Chapter Eleven #3
And, for that particular moment, all was right.
She could have said she loved him, and he would have found his truth, found it and known it was nothing less than pure—but the moment passed as fast as it came.
A beat later and instant was gone, and she was forced once again to live in silence with her love for the man beside her.
So, in its stead, she kissed him long and deep, poured her heart into the physical connection, and was ready to hope against hope that he might decipher her love from that single kiss.
Alas, he did not. He tucked her body to his as was his wont and was soon asleep.
Elizabeth, having listed a few of the thousand reasons she had for loving William, began to tick the rest of them off inside her head, looking forward to sleep that was not going to come.
Sadness filled her heart as she ticked off the reasons—the way he held her hand before they took their seats in the Great Hall; the unapologetic way he heaped eggs onto his breakfast plate in the morning; how he taught her how to sit in Thora’s saddle so she could canter without a backache—all those things were reasons she loved him.
She, after all the convincing she had done to kill his regret, was beginning to be filled with her own.
Would he ever believe her once she told him how much and how deeply she loved him?
* * *
“Lady Caroline, how lovely of you to join us this morning!” Jane exclaimed, holding her hands out to Lord Bingley’s sister.
Elizabeth sat back with her sewing. Jane's false warmth emanated almost as if true. Had Jane actually delighted in Lady Caroline’s presence, her welcome would have shone in her eyes, but Jane's hazel eyes were somehow even chillier than the witch's icy green gaze.
“Lady Jane, 'tis an honour indeed. It has been several years since we last spent time together, has it not?”
“It has. I had been readying myself to marry my dear Sir Finnegan when last we met. Have you not yet found that special man? You know, the one of which your dearest brother approves?” Jane laughed heartily, but by Caroline’s wooden attitude, she, as had Elizabeth, had clearly noticed the cold flick of the lady's gaze.
“Nay, ma'am, I am afraid to admit I have not. Charles depends upon me wholly for my advice and counsel. I have no need for a husband or a lover.”
Elizabeth almost choked. Jane shot her a warning glance.
They had had just enough time that morning to decide how to handle Lady Caroline, and both had come to the conclusion it was not worth causing trouble, though Elizabeth was dying to see how Lady Caroline would handle the unbroken horse in the stables.
“Well, then, you have painted the picture of a perfect life,” Elizabeth replied as she sipped her tea delicately.
She had worn her husband's favourite colour—midnight blue—today and had awaked to a most pleasant sensation of kisses being sprinkled all over her bare flesh. Naught could spoil her mood.
“I do live a perfect life, my lady. A most perfect life.”
Elizabeth gave a perfunctory smile and placed her teacup upon her saucer. What a foolish woman to believe such a shallow life was perfection!
A maid dipped a brief curtsey to the room's inhabitants. “Lady Jane, your presence is requested in the Hall.”
Jane appeared uncertain, but Elizabeth dismissed her. Lady Caroline could not do much that Elizabeth would find unbearable. Once Jane was gone, Elizabeth resumed her sewing.
“Charles must long to see Jane. He always did fancy her. He was quite heartbroken when she married that Finn fellow.” Lady Caroline’s voice was nasal.
“I was not aware they knew each other.”
“Oh, we are good friends. We have known each other for years.”
Elizabeth did not miss the implication that she was the stranger in this situation. Instead of taking the bait that Lady Caroline laid at her door, she gave a simple nod intended to show her understanding.
“My princess, may I speak candidly for a moment?”
“You may.”
“Prior to my travels north, I spoke with your George Wickham. He had heard of my and my brother's impending trip and made a point to seek me out before I left. He is still quite distraught over losing you, my princess.”
“I am sorry for him,” Elizabeth replied in a quiet voice.
This was the last thing she had expected.
George was nowhere near Lady Caroline's rank.
Why would she have even considered an audience with him, in particular because Lady Caroline had always seemed so averse to condescension?
Although her throat tightened at the revelation, Elizabeth quickly recovered.
“You cannot do anything about his feelings about the past now. I have married, and he should look forward to the same for himself.”
“I am afraid, my lady, that your George is the very picture of single-minded pursuit.” With that and an expression of concern that would have been believable but for the cold glint in her eyes, Lady Caroline produced a piece of expensive pressed paper on which George's heavy hand was scrawled.
She pushed the letter towards Elizabeth, causing the tightness in her throat to return and a wave of nausea overcame her.
“He insisted I give this to you upon seeing you.”
She hesitated a moment before she took the note.
Feelings and images began rushing back to her as her fingers made contact with the letter.
It was almost as though the paper was bespelled with her and George’s entire past: his smile and giddy laugh and the way he danced found their way to her face in the form of a wistful smile.
Yes, she had loved George, but it was the fresh, innocent affection of a girl who had never loved before.
Now she was a woman with a husband whom she loved so much.
He was like air after holding your breath under water.
He was vital to her very being. How she missed William at this moment!
“You do him a great service, Lady Caroline. I wonder why.”
“I think it awful that your father sold you into a loveless marriage. I want to see things set right.”
Elizabeth stood. “I thank you for your concern, Lady Caroline. If you will excuse me.”
“Of course, my princess,” the backbiting woman said. She stood and gave Elizabeth a smirk that sent chills down her spine.
With the proud and composed deportment of the true princess she was, Elizabeth quit the room.