Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (80 page)

BOOK: Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle
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“I could not reach her,” Richard murmured tiredly. Then noticing the ring next to his boot, he leaned over to retrieve it. After examining it, he held it towards his cousin.

Taking the ring and sliding it back onto his little finger, William replied, “Her death is not your fault.” Then he looked down at Elizabeth, gently lifting her face to peer into her eyes. “I shall send for the physician.”

Elizabeth was crying and shaking her head no at the same time, so William kissed her forehead before he slid his hands under her knees and picked her up. She rested her head under his chin as they followed Richard off the balcony. Just inside the attic, the constable and Lord Landingham stood, both having arrived just as Gisela began her fall. They stepped back to allow the couple to pass.

As the entire party descended back down the series of stairs, William enquired about the others, and Lord Landingham began to recount how the rest of their party had fared. To his knowledge, a few men had sustained cuts that needed stitching, but no wounds were life-threatening.  Mr. Ross’ shoulder had been grazed by an errant bullet, Sergeant Pugh suffered a flesh wound to one arm and Colonel Neilson had suffered a broken rib, possibly two, but all were being treated.

Reaching the foyer, lit by the same poor candle as before, eerie shadows made those who had died appear a ghostly shade of grey. The dead, Mr. Wickham and Grady, had been moved to one side of the room, while Mr. Gladstone knelt over Agnes on the other, nearest the light. He caught William’s eye and shook his head, just as he clasped the end of a cloth and began to pull it over her body. Elizabeth, who had scanned the room until she found the maid, sobbed and looked away. At once, William fled the house while Richard stayed to take control of the situation.

Outside, Lord Matlock and Charles Bingley guarded the prisoners along with those who were to help transport them to the local jail until they could be transferred to London. Constable Carver had just joined that group when William appeared still holding Elizabeth.

 

Both Lord Matlock and Bingley were visibly relieved to see that she appeared unharmed. Nevertheless, the determined look on William’s face and his short, clipped answers to their enquiries soon led them to understand that what he desired most was to leave Stillwater behind as quickly as possible. He made an excuse and headed towards the horses.

Finding that none of the carriages had been fetched, William asked some men to bring them to the house, which sent riders racing in that direction. And since he had no choice but to wait, he found a stone bench near a walkway where he proceeded to sit down, careful to keep Elizabeth in his lap. Taking advantage of the dark, he pulled her even more tightly to himself and kissed the side of her face, before feathering kisses downward until he reached the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She sighed and he felt her hands slide to his back, her fingers digging into his skin. Unfortunately, their moment of solitude was interrupted by Richard, who had come to locate them. 

“Good news, Darcy! We have come out relatively unscathed while the majority of Wickham’s men are dead. Of the ones taken captive, only a few need medical attention, and Mr. Gladstone is seeing to them. With so few injuries, we have adequate room for all the wounded in just two carriages, so you are at liberty to take the third and go on ahead. There is no need for Miss Elizabeth to suffer further by delay. Take her to Percival Manor.” 

William offered his hand, and Richard clasped it, shaking it heartily. Almost overcome by the magnitude of all that had happened and the reality that Elizabeth was safe with him, William murmured roughly, “Thank you. I shall never forget your courage and skill in planning this undertaking. I could not have done this without your help.”

“Is that not what family is about?”

Elizabeth reached out to touch Richard’s arm. “I thank you.”

His face softened as he smiled at the young woman his cousin loved. “You are indeed welcome. I swore to bring George Wickham to justice after he accosted my cousin, but it seems one of his own kind has done me the favour. That I could be of service to you, while at the same time being a witness to his demise, made it all the more gratifying.”

The sound of carriages arriving and the voices of the servants as they rushed to open the doors caused William to stand. With a nod to Richard, he carried Elizabeth towards the first one in line. Richard hurried to catch up, grabbing the door and holding it open for his cousin. After placing her inside, William climbed in to take the seat next to Elizabeth.

Slamming the door shut, Richard spoke through the open window.  “Take care of her, Darcy. I shall see the both of you tomorrow.”

As the carriage began to roll, William slid Elizabeth back into his lap. Instantly she pushed his unbuttoned coat apart, clasped the lapels of his shirt and buried her face in his chest. The familiarity of his cologne, the hardness of his body and the vice-like feel of his arms brought her immense comfort. And though she had sworn not to cry anymore, she could not suppress the flood of tears that ensued. They continued for several minutes while William whispered words of love and planted kisses in her hair. 

“When I thought you were going to die,” she sniffled, closing her eyes, “I was so afraid that I could not breathe and then… and when you offered never to divorce Gisela, my heart stopped.” With a voice breaking with emotion, she asked, “Would you have kept the vow never to see me again, Fitzwilliam?”

Her doubt pierced his heart. Smoothing an errant curl behind an ear, he ran his fingers gently from there to her chin before caressing her face. “Surely you know that that was just a ruse to gain her trust. I would never have kept that vow.

“Elizabeth, look at me.” Her teary eyes opened. “I would have promised her anything to save your life, but I could never have kept that vow! You are my world, my life. Do you not know that?”

Big tears rolled down both cheeks. “Where is my ring?”

Instantly William pulled the signet ring off his little finger and slid it on Elizabeth’s middle one. She examined it lovingly before entreating, “Show me that you love me.”

It began tenderly, but Elizabeth’s responses became more demanding and William’s passion rose to match. They kissed deeply for many long, wonderful minutes, their tongues meeting and their hands gently caressing each other until he breathlessly drew back to study her. In the darkness, her eyes now resembled two black pools, pools in which he would gladly drown. And when she ran her hands into his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers, all thoughts of self-control were lost.

The trip back to Percival Manor was free of any concern of what society or their families might think. Too much in love to care one whit about either, the circumstances of the last twenty-four hours had reduced them to nothing more than a man and a woman—a man and woman intensely in love and hungry for each other.  Even if their flushed faces, red lips and dishevelled clothes and hair had not suggested what had transpired in the carriage, by the time Mrs. Watwood greeted William as he carried Elizabeth into the foyer of Percival Manor, it was plain to see that this couple was utterly in love and, without proper chaperoning, would likely end up in each other’s arms that night.

Fixing on William, the housekeeper declared brightly, “Mr. Darcy! I am delighted that your mission was successful. Only seconds before your arrival, a servant returned to inform me of the outcome and to report the scope of the injuries. It seems the Lord has protected all of you.”

Anxious to be alone with Elizabeth, William did not want to encourage her to talk, so he kept his answer brief. “Yes, God was on our side it seems.”

The older woman addressed Elizabeth next. “I am Mrs. Watwood, the housekeeper for Percival Manor. I prayed for your safe return, Miss Bennet, and I cannot say how very pleased I am to be able to welcome you here now. It is a blessing to know you are safe within our walls.” Elizabeth smiled wanly and nodded.

Shifting his feet with the weight of her, William looked to the top of the stairs. “I know that you will understand when I say that we are both very tired. So if you could just show—”

“Of course! Where are my manners! You both must be exhausted, so I shall delay no longer. If you will follow me, I ordered the bedroom that adjoins mine prepared for Miss Bennet.” She looked directly at Elizabeth. “I intend to sit with you tonight, my dear. I would not be surprised if you suffer night terrors after all that has transpired.”

 

Elizabeth tried to protest, “Oh, I have never suffered from—”

She patted Elizabeth’s arm. “You poor thing! We will not be sure until you try to sleep, will we?”

Smiling innocently, she went towards the grand staircase, being careful to address the young maid who waited at the bottom with both her voice and a nod of her head. “Have you finished preparing the
blue
bedroom, Lois?”

Lois’ eyes widened in surprise. “I… I do not recall being—”

Mrs. Watwood cut her off.  “You did find the new nightgown in the dresser, did you not?”  Since the housekeeping was nodding, Lois nodded her agreement.

“Good, good! Then, bring some towels to the dressing room and then locate Mr. Lawrence.  He is still upstairs, I believe. Tell him to bring up the rest of the hot water.” 

Lois curtseyed. “Yes, ma’am.”  She then hurried up the stairs to prepare the blue bedroom since it seemed that is what the housekeeper wished.

Mrs. Watwood fixed her gaze on William just in time to catch his scowl. She almost laughed. “I took the liberty of having Cook fix a tray for each of you with soup, bread, cheese and a pot of fresh tea. I thought you might want a little nourishment before you retire.”

William tried his best to intervene one last time.  “I intended to stay with Miss Eliz… Miss Bennet tonight. Just to be sure that—”

“A gentleman in a lady’s room? Oh no, that would never do! Besides, her bath will be ready shortly, and there is much to do before she is settled in for the night. I have plenty of hot water boiling, so you may have a bath if you wish. That should afford you some relaxation after the ordeal that you have endured.” 

William could not think of another argument, so he became mute as the petite woman ascended the grand staircase. A few steps up she turned to declare, “Are you coming?” At William’s nod, Mrs. Watwood continued without a backward glance.

Terribly upset that their plans had been thwarted, William locked eyes with Elizabeth, and her gaze lifted his spirits. For there, shining in her ebony orbs, was the same love and desire that he felt. Somehow, knowing that she was just as disappointed made it a little easier.

Leaning in for a soft kiss, he pulled back, offered her a frustrated smile and whispered, “I wish we did not have to part like this. Another time, Elizabeth, and soon, I promise, very soon. I love you so much.”

“I know. I love you just as fiercely.”

Sighing heavily, William dutifully began to follow Mrs. Watwood to the second floor. After depositing Elizabeth in the room that the housekeeper designated, he walked to the door and paused for one last glimpse of her. Mrs. Watwood stopped whatever she had been saying to address him, making it clear that he must leave.

So he did, closing the door behind him as he walked woodenly down the hall. As he progressed, arms now bereft of the woman that he loved, he contemplated whether the housekeeper had any idea how much strength it took for him to walk away.

Alone with Elizabeth, Mrs. Watwood began to undo her buttons, since Lois had not returned as yet. Hearing the young woman take a ragged breath, she decided to speak.

“That young man loves you dearly.”

 

Elizabeth blinked back tears. “Can you tell that I love him just as much?”

“Oh, yes, my dear, it is evident. I may be old, but I once experienced a love like that.”

Elizabeth turned to consider her. “What happened?”

“We got married, of course! And we were in love for one and twenty years, until his death parted us.”

“I… I am sorry. I did not mean to pry.”

“Nonsense! I do not mind speaking of it.” She took both Elizabeth’s hands and looked into her face. “Please allow this old woman to pass along a bit of wisdom I have gleaned in a lifetime.”

Elizabeth nodded.

“If it is true love, it will stand the test of time. Losing yourselves in a moment of passion may seem the thing to do, but it often creates more problems than it solves. Waiting until you are husband and wife is so much more fulfilling.”

Elizabeth blushed but said nothing. The point was taken.

 

~~~*~~~

 

 

Chapter 44

 

Darcy House
London
The Drawing Room
The next morning

 

Georgiana glanced to Lady Ashcroft, who stood to move nearer the windows and took a seat on a sofa where the sunlight would help her see with greater clarity. She knew that would be her aunt’s destination when she pulled a small embroidery frame from the generous bag that always followed her from room to room. It was filled with her current projects, and Georgiana never failed to marvel at how accomplished her companion was—either knitting or embroidering whenever she sat still for longer than a moment. But it was the portable frame that her aunt seemed to employ the most, as it allowed her to embroider the smaller pieces when she was not in the music room. It was in that room that she kept her largest project, a tablecloth, in the huge standing frame. That was the endeavour she worked on whenever she had time to listen to Georgiana practice.

Now firmly ensconced on the end of the upholstered piece of furniture, Audrey had discarded her slippers, as was her custom, and wrapped her stocking feet and lap with a knit coverlet. Georgiana would have sworn, if she were asked, that her aunt was completely untroubled at that moment.

As for herself, she had been unable to rout the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her whenever she pictured all that might have gone wrong when her brother rescued Miss Elizabeth. Were they all unharmed, as Fitzwilliam had written, or was that a ruse used to placate the child he still considered her to be until he could deliver the news himself? Was her father still alive? Was Richard or her uncle?

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