Chapter 2.4
Elizabeth woke the next morning spooned in her husband’s arms. She smiled to herself and sighed then put her hands over his. She felt rested and wanted to rise from the bed, but she could not abandon his closeness.
She slowly turned to face him. Their bodies still wore the warmth of the previous night’s lovemaking, and she shivered as her breasts brushed against his chest. Her left hand glided around his waist. Through his deep sleep, he released a moan then turned on his back.
Elizabeth’s smile widened while she watched him with great interest. His breathing was steady, and his expression showed peace and contentment.
He looked even more handsome in his sleep.
Elizabeth withdrew a few more inches so she could have a better view of the man she loved.
Her fingers travelled—without really touching—along his face, his neck, his shoulders, then stopped upon his heart and her lips joined them, resting warmly on his skin.
Darcy felt a chill shattering his body, and his sleep vanished when Elizabeth’s hair touched him. A moment later, her soft fingers burned him and he captured her hand—making her let out a soft cry of surprise. He brought her hand to his lips as she laughed with delight.
“Forgive me for awakening you, my love.”
His arms trapped her.
“I am glad you did, my dearest. For so long I have dreamt that your beautiful face would be the first thing I would see in the morning and the last at night…and several times between…” He covered her cheeks with small kisses.
She chuckled, delighted by the sweet indulgence.
“It must be almost noon—I cannot remember when I last slept so much,” he continued, and she laughed.
“I would rather say you slept late but not much.”
“True. Last time I remember it was almost dawn. Did you sleep well?”
“Very well. Not much but very well…” She cuddled against his chest, and he kissed her hair.
“I love your teasing, Mrs Darcy.”
“Then you may depend upon my teasing you as often as I can, Mr Darcy.”
∞∞∞
The Darcys appeared for breakfast at noon
At Elizabeth’s request, Mrs Hamilton informed them that the young woman found in the park was feeling unwell. She had been feverish the entire night, and it appeared she had caught a very bad cold.
“Send for Dr. Harris,” Darcy said. “See if there is something to be done for her.”
“Very well, sir.” The housekeeper was about to leave then turned to her master. “Sir, I was just thinking: in the ten years I have run this household, no one on the staff has been severely ill. Except Spencer, but he was already sixty when I came to the house.”
“True. This proves your excellent management, Mrs Hamilton.” Darcy smiled with a glance at Elizabeth, but the housekeeper continued in all seriousness.
“No indeed, sir—it proves that, in this house, the staff is treated with care and fairness. Thank you, sir.”
“Mrs Hamilton, just see what can be done in the present situation and let us know.”
When they were alone, Elizabeth smiled at her husband.
“You receive thanks and gratitude very poorly, Mr Darcy. Your kindness and generosity are indeed praiseworthy—only I failed to notice it at first.”
He returned the smile and took her hand. “Let us not speak of this any longer. Since we brought the woman into our home, it is our duty to offer her proper care. It is the only honourable thing to do. Now, can we have some music? I would love to hear you play.”
“I admire you as much as I love you, William. I am sure the girl will owe her life to you, even if you do not want to admit it. And yes, I would happily play for you.”
An hour later, the doctor’s report was as good as could be expected.
Two days and a night spent in the icy weather did not happen without consequences, but the physician was confident that it was no more than a cold, which would pass with tea, good food, and some rest in a warm chamber—requirements that were quickly provided.
Elizabeth felt strangely affected by the young woman, and she had to fight with herself to be reasonable about the entire situation. She realised that Maud would have found better care nowhere else.
With a heavy heart, she tried to be as good company as possible for her husband. However, a sudden headache lowered her spirits even more, but she sought to hide it behind a polite smile.
She played for Darcy, they read together, and then, in the afternoon, he took care of some letters from his solicitor while she wrote a note for the modiste to establish an appointment in a few days.
Darcy repeatedly inquired whether she was well as she looked pale and tired, but she assured him everything was fine.
However, it was not as her back started to ache too, and her stomach felt sick.
Later on, he proposed a short stroll before dinner, which Elizabeth gladly accepted.
The fresh air lifted her spirits, and while the headache did not dissipate, she still enjoyed walking by her husband’s side.
When they returned home, Elizabeth fetched Molly to help her dress for dinner. She felt tired and wondered how it was possible as it was still early and she had not done anything that would explain her state.
She lay down for a few moments, and when she rose to dress, she heard the maid release a small cry.
“Mrs Darcy, are you hurt?”
Elizabeth was puzzled and followed the maid’s gaze; then both came to the same understanding, seeing the red spot on the sheets.
“Oh, forgive me, ma’am. Let me help you change,” Molly said, and Elizabeth barely succeeded in concealing her distress.
The door between the apartments opened without warning, and Darcy appeared, obviously concerned, and then became surprised and worried as he noticed the same red spot. He attempted to speak, but Elizabeth shouted at him:
“Please leave us!”
He left in haste and closed the door as she pulled the robe around her.
Silly, silly me! She had not thought of her courses at all although she should have known it would happen.
What was she thinking? What a shame! And the expression on his face—no doubt he was appalled.
What was she to do? How does a woman handle this with her husband?
If she had remembered to ask Mrs Gardiner, her aunt surely would have known how to advise her. Silly, silly me.
The door from their rooms opened halfway, and Darcy spoke from the opening. “Elizabeth, are you well? Should I fetch Doctor Harris?”
“Oh no—no, not at all. I am very well…I only need some time…I am well. But I will not have dinner tonight…I am sorry.”
“I see…as you wish. I will be here in case you need me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and he retired while her cheeks burned from embarrassment.
It was around eight o’clock in the evening, and Elizabeth rested on the bed, covered in blankets, just as she used to do at Longbourn. Except that at Longbourn it was her mother and her sisters, who all knew about her “several days discomfort,” and she did not need to worry about what to do or say.
Now, she kept glancing toward the closed door. She dismissed Molly and refused to eat or drink anything except a cup of tea. She only needed to rest and calm down.
The knock on the door startled her although she was expecting it. She shyly invited Darcy to enter, and he stepped in. She forced a smile then averted her eyes.
“Are you well?
“Yes. Please forgive my improper reaction earlier. I was just…I did not want you to…”
“Please do not apologise. May I enter?”
“Yes, of course.”
He stepped closer and waited a short distance from the bed. She held his gaze a moment then averted her eyes again. Such heavy tension between them she did not remember experiencing since before their meeting at the cottage.
“I did not want to disturb you. I just wanted to know if you need anything. “
“No, thank you…I just need to rest.”
He watched her, obviously wondering how to proceed further, then decided to leave.
Elizabeth looked at him in silence; a sudden lump in her throat prevented any words she might have wanted to say.
It was the first night they did not share, but it was only natural this way.
And yet, the silence of her elegant room seemed hard to bear, and she wished and hoped to see him return.
Then she furiously scolded herself for such silly, improper thoughts.
The door opened once more.
“Elizabeth, I…forgive me, may I stay with you?” Without waiting for the answer, Darcy took a seat on the bed. “I am sorry if I embarrassed you. Should I leave? Would you rather be alone?”
“No…your presence is always dear to me. But I am afraid I will not be a joyful companion.”
“My love, I do not seek your company only for joy. I simply want to be with you if you will have me.”
“I would like that very much,” she said with a tearful smile.
“Forgive me—this is rather silly. I mean, it is nothing of consequence. I am not ill or anything, and I do not want to worry you. I shall be fine in a couple of days. It is just that…it is very embarrassing. I have never before spoken to a man about it.”
“Nor have I ever spoken with a lady…I mean…I do know what you mean, but…I was worried…”
He kissed her hand then caressed her hair. “I noticed you were unwell the entire day. And then I saw the blood, and I was frightened. I imagined it was my fault somehow…that I have not been patient enough or—”
“Oh, this is silly.” She laughed to hide her emotions, stroking his face.
“We are both silly, truly. I admit it was the most embarrassing situation, and I was not prepared to handle it properly. But we shall not bother to speak of it anymore. I shall stay in bed for a day or two and that will be all.”
“May I sleep with you? I mean—near you?” She was at a loss of what to reply, attempting to guess his meaning. He leant and kissed her forehead.
“It would be nice just to sleep with you in my arms as we did before we were married. But if you are uncomfortable, I will return to my room.”