Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (69 page)

“As Miss Elizabeth stated, I am seeking a divorce, and though she has agreed to wait for me, we are both aware that it could take years. In the meantime, I shall place all of my wealth and resources at her disposal, just as I would if we were officially engaged. In addition, I shall direct my solicitor to draw up papers that will, in essence, make provision for her care should I expire before our marriage can take place.”  Elizabeth’s hand tightened around his. “It will be very generous, I assure you.  In my heart, we are betrothed.”

“That is very noble of you,” Mr. Bennet said a bit sardonically.

Hurriedly, William added, “I know that Bingley will not be bothered by any gossip nor would he ever forsake Miss Bennet, however, I would consider it a kindness on your part to allow me to augment the dowries of your other daughters— to counteract any contempt that might arise as a result of my circumstances.”

“You presume too much, Mr. Darcy. I am not opposed to having my other daughter’s dowries considered if your relationship with Lizzy should become well known and affect them conversely, however, they are still years away from being courted. Though my wife likes to think otherwise, I shall not agree to a courtship for any of them until they are much older.”

“In that case, with your permission, I shall increase the sum I leave to Elizabeth, should I die before we are married, to include the monies for their dowries. I would not want my dilemma to affect them adversely if I can do something to counteract it.”

“Do as you wish,” Mr. Bennet replied resignedly. “I have no doubt you will do whatever you feel is necessary.” He rubbed his forehead pensively. “On the whole, dealing with Mrs. Bennet and her penchant for gossip will be the worst of this situation, I fear.”  He began to rise. “I shall need time to consider all that I have heard.” He managed to make it to his feet, using his cane for support. “Lizzy, I believe we should return to the Gardiners now and to Longbourn in two days time. That should give my leg ample time to rest from the ordeal of travelling. Mr. Darcy, will you be kind enough to lend me a carriage and a footman to manage her trunks to Gracechurch Street?”

Seeing his resolve, William stood and went over to the door. Opening it, he spoke quietly to a footman standing just outside. As he made his way back to Elizabeth and her father, he stated, “A carriage has been ordered. A maid will pack Miss Bennet’s things, and they shall be delivered later, if that is agreeable to you.”

Elizabeth stood shakily, crossing the room to take his hand again, squeezing it as though to gain his attention. Addressing her father, nonetheless, she mainly looked at him.

“But, Papa, I cannot return to Meryton now. Mama will not give me a minute’s peace. Will you not allow me to stay in Town with Aunt and Uncle?”

“I do not consider that wise, Lizzy. After all, if you return to Meryton, perhaps these horrific rumours will dissipate as people realise that you are not
with
Mr. Darcy.” Then he added knowingly, “Besides, I have no doubt that you will arrange to see one another if you are in close proximity, and that can only add fuel to the fire.”

Elizabeth’s eyes pleaded with William for support, nevertheless his next words were not what she wished to hear.

“I have to agree with your father, Elizabeth. If the rumours have begun in earnest, Gisela will be in the thick of it, and she will not be content until she finds a way to embarrass and censure you publicly, just as she has me.”

Clearly devastated and defeated, Elizabeth entreated her father. “Papa, may I have a word with Fitzwilliam privately?” At his austere expression, she added, “Please.”

Mr. Bennet slowly proceeded to leave the room. Once the door was fully closed, Elizabeth fell into William’s arms, imploring, “Please do not send me away. I can face anyone’s censure as long as I am with you.”   

William steeled himself for the hardest task he had ever faced. Pulling her tightly against his body, he closed his eyes and buried his face in her glossy hair as he brought one hand up to cup the back of her head. A whiff of lavender that remained there almost caused him to forget his resolve.
Dear God, how I love you!
How I yearn to keep you safe in my arms!

“We have no choice, sweetheart. Your father is determined to remove you from my influence and the fury of wagging tongues.” He sighed raggedly. “I cannot say that I blame him. He is doing what he feels he must to protect you and your sisters.”

“But should the rumours reach Meryton, our neighbours will shun me, perhaps my entire family. I shall not be able to bear it if I am forced to stay in the house with Mama and my sisters and listen to her denunciations.” She tilted her head back to look into his face. Her eyes were darker than he had ever seen them and brimming with tears. “Worst of all, I fear that I shall never see you again once I leave Town.”

Her words found their mark, and he felt as though his heart was being ripped from his chest.
So this is the substance of poets’ prose—the agony of losing your heart to the woman you love.

He studied her face carefully. “Please listen, my love. I promise to come to you as often as possible, and I shall position an express rider at Netherfield, so that we may communicate as often as you wish. Furthermore, if the situation in Meryton becomes too unbearable, I shall come for you and remove you to a place far from there. Do you trust me?”

She nodded, though she could not hold back the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes. “Very well, I shall go. I cannot struggle against you both.”

William took hold of the silver necklace that adorned her neck, before gingerly lifting it until his signet ring appeared from its hiding place. He fingered the onyx forlornly.

“A poor trade for all you suffer on my account.”

Elizabeth reached for his hand and brought it and the ring to her lips to bestow a kiss thereon. “Never say that! I cherish this ring as it represents your heart… your love.”

Capturing her mouth in a kiss with more fire and passion than he had allowed himself previously, he prayed that she would never live to regret those words. Only an insistent rap on the door brought them both back to an awareness of their surroundings.

William tried to tease as he let the ring drop to its hiding place. “It seems your father is anxious to separate you from me.”

Lizzy could not be cheered. “Nothing will EVER separate us. Not truly.”

Unbidden tears now appeared though he blinked hard to contain them.
How does a man deserve such devotion?

“Meet me in the park at Gracechurch Street each morning until you leave Town. I shall be waiting for you, no matter how early the hour.”

Despite her despair, the corners of her mouth lifted. “I shall count the minutes until I see you again.”

With the backs of his fingers, he softly traced the outline of her face. “Until then.”

A last gentle kiss sealed their good bye, and they stepped apart. Elizabeth replied brokenly, “Until then.” 

When she opened the door, her father was waiting. So deeply affected that he could not think clearly, William watched Elizabeth disappear as though it were a dream, and it took several seconds before he thought to follow her.

Rushing to the foyer, he arrived in time to see Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet descend the front steps. Quickly moving to the portico, he observed as she was handed into the carriage and fixing his gaze on the windows of the vehicle, he prayed she might appear in one. Alas, it was not to be, and he stood transfixed as the carriage travelled down the street until it was completely out of sight.

~~~*~~~

Elsewhere in the house

Lord Landingham had not been asleep either when the early morning visitors disrupted the quiet at Darcy House. He had risen and dressed, apparently just after William and Elizabeth, with plans to return to his own townhouse. He had hopes of finding new correspondence from the detective he hired several months before. It had been two weeks since he received any communication from the man regarding Gisela, and he was anxious. However, once the commotion alerted him to a problem downstairs, he descended the stairs in time to see Mr. Bingley escorting several ladies from the house. While he observed their departure, Mr. Barnes stepped forward, holding out a package that had just been delivered for him. 

Looking at the outside of the missive, he could tell that his staff had forwarded it to Darcy House, just as he had instructed. Saying a prayer that the young people he had come to love as his own, Anne’s children, and the woman he now wished to marry would understand, he tore open the seal. Inside was a letter addressed to him, along with a bundle of old papers tied with faded ribbons. With eagerness and dread, he began to read—eagerness, because he truly wished to remove Fitzwilliam from Gisela’s iron grip and dread because he was well aware of what it could mean for his happiness. If those that he loved most would not or could not forgive, he was not sure how he would carry on.

Looking up he caught Mr. Barnes still watching him from his position near the front entrance. Pasting on a smile, he enquired, “Where is Lady Ashcroft?”

“I believe milady is in the library, sir.”

Nodding his thanks, Landingham went in that direction. Once at the double doors, he spied her sitting on a sofa near the windows. He stepped inside and turned to close and lock the doors. What had to be said, no one else needed to hear. Audrey smiled at him when he faced her.

“Locking the door, Marshall? What will my nephew and niece think?”

How he loved her smile! How he prayed she would still smile at him once he finished his confession. Forcing a similar expression, he strolled towards her, stopping in front of her to ask, “May I sit next to you?”

“Of course, you may,” she acquiesced teasingly, “I do think, though, that I should unlock the door. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth are in the drawing room with her father, and I promised to be available if they need me.”

His expression darkened. “Do you think he will do harm to Fitzwilliam? Should I go there straightaway?”

She chuckled, reaching for his hand. “No, Mr. Bennet seems a reasonable man, altogether unlike his wife. She is entirely irrational and excitable. I cannot see even the slightest resemblance between her and Elizabeth.”

“Was she one of the ladies Mr. Bingley escorted from the house?”

“Yes.” Suddenly Audrey began to study him seriously and sobered. “What is bothering you, Marshall?”

He smiled wanly before his expression grew wistful. “How well you know me, my love. It is uncanny.” 

“As I tell Georgiana, just say what is bothering you. Waiting can only make it harder.”

Tears filled his eyes. “I only pray that you care deeply enough for me that you will not hate me once I am done. I do not have the faith to believe that you shall still love me.”

Seeing his anguish, Audrey squeezed his hand. “I am no saint, Marshall, and I hope I have lived long enough to have learned that forgiveness is divine, especially when not warranted. I love you very much, and I promise to attempt to understand any secret you have to reveal. Now, just tell me.”

“Do you remember when we talked of the woman that I loved for so many years?”

Hesitantly she answered, “I… I do.”

“Inside this package are papers that reveal her identity.” At her puzzlement, he continued. “When Fitzwilliam told me several months ago that Gisela was blackmailing him with letters that implied that Georgiana was not a Darcy, I realised that I had to act. I hired a detective to see if he could obtain the evidence she claimed. For several months now, I have employed spies who have lived under Gisela’s roof.”

Taking a deep breath, he held out the package that had been delivered that very morning. Audrey took it, and with one last look at him, began to empty the contents into her lap. After reading the missive from the detective, she began to untie the ribbon around the old papers. She stared at the handwriting, recognising that it was Anne’s. Searching through all the letters, there were none from any other. Swallowing hard, she looked back to Marshall.

“You are Georgiana’s father.” It was not a question.

“Please… let me explain. I believe I first fell in love with Anne when I was a mere boy.  We were neighbours, you remember. Later, I asked her to marry me, and she agreed, but we were so young at the time, each barely fifteen, that we agreed to wait to announce our decision until after I finished university. Then, George Darcy came along, and our plans vanished as dried flowers on the wind. He was older, more sophisticated and… well, you know the rest. I tried to be happy for them, truly I did! In fact, I determined that I would remain a good friend to them both. But, for the most part, I confess, that I wanted to be near Anne in order to protect her. I suppose I thought to be there if ever she needed me.”

He stood and began to pace. “You have to understand that I did not trust George not to break her heart. I was well aware of his propensity for the ladies during our years at university. Nevertheless, for the first few years after they married, he seemed content. Well, at least until she had Fitzwilliam.  Later, there were two children who were still-born, and she lost several others in the early months of pregnancy. That was when the neglect began. He began to stay in London more than at Pemberley. During those years, Anne would cry on my shoulder whenever she heard rumours of a new mistress, a new conquest and there was always some busybody eager to send her a copy of the gossip sheets.”

He looked into space, as if recalling. “Meanwhile, Anne was becoming even more broken-hearted, as she still desperately wanted more children. About the time Fitzwilliam was twelve, she sent for me quite unexpectedly one day, saying that it was most urgent. Naturally, I hurried to Pemberley.

“I found her inconsolable. She fell into my arms, crying hysterically. George had told her that he would never come to her bed again, blaming his decision on his fear of losing her during childbirth. Anne, however, felt that he just did not love her, since he never stayed home with her or Fitzwilliam anymore. Only George knew the truth, I suppose. All I know is that I still loved her, and regardless of the reasons, she needed me and sought solace in my arms. Afterward, we both felt such remorse that we vowed never to let it happen again.”