Mr. Darcy's Promise (38 page)

“It’s about time you see her for what she is. She was very devoted to you and now
look what you have to show for it . . . seven little babies, all strong and healthy. That is a lot of love to handle. Are you sure you and the missus can raise them?” Sparks motioned with his hands for Darcy to look at the chicks.

He examined them closely.
Babies? They were chicks, just big enough to get through the winter storms, not babies. “You meant chicks, did you not, Sparks?” But Sparks had left him already. He was alone with the chicken that had Elizabeth’s eyes. The devoted chicken who had been forced into sitting on eggs at a time of year that wasn’t ideal. He knew he was onto something. Elizabeth had once expressed how she felt forced into the marriage. His eyes popped open. The rocking of the carriage reminded him of where he was.

He had to tell her what he just dreamed about! He shook her shoulders gently. “Elizabeth! I figured it out! You are a chicken!” She had her head on his lap and she sat up with the strangest look on her face.

“Are you calling me a coward?” She smirked.

He shook his head violently, “No, no, not a chicken,
the
chicken.” His mind felt refreshed and lively. He understood now and he wanted to share it with her. He wanted to show her he loved that part of her that she had kept close to her all these weeks. He wanted to kiss her! He took her by the shoulders and kissed her hard on the lips. “You are the hen!”

Elizabeth wasn’t quite sure if her husband was awake or talking in his sleep. She pinched his arm. “There, are you awake now? Because I am beginning to wonder what in the world you were talking about.”

He rubbed his arm, but even her teasing wouldn’t let him lose the enlightenment he felt. “You love the chickens!”

“William, are you well? Just because I like the chickens does not mean I have grown wings and become one of them . . .” What kind of stress was her husband under to be talking such gibberish? She watched him retrieve a piece of paper from his vest pocket.

Mr. Darcy showed her the list of facts that he had been carrying around with him since the morning he had discovered it was in fact Georgiana’s letter from Wickham, not Elizabeth’s. He hadn’t meant to bring the list along, but when he found it that night he studied it as often as privacy would allow. “I have been trying to figure out why the chickens, the eggs, and the chicks getting their feathers all were so important to you. They are more than some farm animal to you. But I think I know now. You feel like the hen! Or maybe it was
felt
like the hen, I do not know.”

The laughing expression in her eyes slowly faded. He knew he was right. “You felt like you had no choice to get married, just as the hen had no choice but to sit on the eggs. Nature decided it for the hen, and your father decided it for you. Have I hit upon the truth?” She nodded slowly.
Yes!
He had finally unraveled this mystery!

“So something besides your free will put you in a situation that you had not wanted . . . Oh! Not simply that, but at a time that you did not want. For the chicken the right time would have been spring, the natural way to raise chicks . . . but for you . . . oh, I do not know . . . for you . . . the right time would have been getting married when you were in love? Am I right?” She nodded. He was thrilled, but continued.

“So you got married before you loved me; no, were forced to marry me before you loved me, but you found a way through it anyway. The hen could not leave or abandon the eggs, it was not in her nature; she was driven to make the best of her situation. That is just like you. You cried so hard on our way to London on our wedding day but then things changed. I saw it in you. It was not right away but you grew to . . . to accept it.” He wanted to say she grew to love him but caught himself. She hadn’t spoken those words yet. “You found a way to accept your situation and in fact learned to maybe even appreciate the time you had been forced to spend with me?” She nodded. Tears were forming in her eyes. He reached for them and wiped them with his thumbs. He got braver. He dared presume even further in his enlightened state. He lowered his voice and said, “But things changed for you, did they not? You learned to want to be married to me?”

His heart fluttered and it felt like forever before she nodded. He smiled. Her simple nod of the head was more powerful to his body than any kiss or embrace they had shared so far.
She wants to be married to me!
He tried to focus; there was still so much on the paper that he hadn’t clarified, like the hatching of the eggs. “And when you said that I could not help the eggs or force them to hatch . . . you were talking about me forcing you to love me.” She nodded, and he continued.

“Yes! And the struggle to get out,
to hatch, was part of the process! I needed to give you the time and space to fall in love with me on your own time. You said it takes a while to hatch; you said it just takes time. But letting you come to it on your own only makes you stronger. So your love for me was the eggs hatching?” She nodded and fresh tears welled up in her eyes. He leaned in and kissed the tears away, tasting of the salt on his lips. He then felt like he had figured it all out but one thing. If Elizabeth was the hen, forced to sit on the eggs–– or get married–– and because she endured, her love for him developed, or in other words the chicks hatched . . . but what in the world did getting their feathers mean? If the chicks hatching was a representation of her love then of course she would want them to survive! He let out a big breath. “And getting their feathers before the winter storms? The storms . . . those refer to trials, correct? You want our young love to endure the trials we face?”

Elizabeth had been silent long enough. “You said ‘our’ love, but you were talking about my love for you. I must stop you before my heart jumps out of my chest.”

“I did mean our love. I have loved you for so long, Elizabeth. There was no time I have not. Not since I saw your fine eyes and heard your heart-piercing laughter, or memorized your impertinently raised eyebrow, or saw your kind heart, or tasted of your sweet lips, for there was not a time that I could not admit that I love you. Everything I learn about you only makes me love you more. You are my world now. I cannot think of a time I have been more happy than when I rolled in chicken muck with you! Every moment I have had I simply want to engrave in my mind and remember it always. You may not believe me but it is true . . . and I have been a fool for not telling you the real reason I married you.” He drew in a deep breath.

“I see it now in your eyes what has been in my heart since the Meryton Assembly when I first felt my heart strings pull in your direction. I fought it; oh I did, I even said that awful thing about you not being tempting, just so that I would not have to endure the foreign feelings I was having. My heart was gone from the moment I heard you laugh with Miss Lucas at the refreshment table. There is nothing I want to do more than spend my life hearing that laughter. I want only to make you happy and I vow with every fiber of my being that I will! I never want to see that forlorn and hopeless face that I saw on our wedding day. Forgive me for being too careful; no, even
cowardly. I should have expressed my love long ago but somehow I knew deep down that you needed time to learn of it yourself.”

“I wanted to tell you I loved you when I botched that awful proposal. I wanted to tell you I loved you when you came down to breakfast that morning after our wedding. I wanted to tell you I loved you when I went shopping with you and they measured you for your theatre gown. I wanted to tell you the night of the theatre how much I needed you and could not live without you. I wanted to tell you how you are more valuable to me then all of Pemberley when we got out of the carriage and saw it for the first time together. I wanted to show you I could be everything you needed and wanted. I wanted to tell you I loved you when you called me a beast and then rubbed mud in my hair! I wanted to tell you how I admire your fighting spirit the day you hit your head and still walked three hours to get home. And oh! God knows I wanted to tell you in the library after our first kiss. I wanted to tell you I will always love you no matter what, even when I thought your heart was not mine but rather Wickham’s to claim. I wanted to tell you I love you when I woke up and saw your sleeping face on my chest. I wanted to take you in my arms and show you how grateful and lucky I am to have you in my life after you so generously massaged my head when you could have been angry with me instead! I wanted to tell you so many times. But I am telling you now. I love you dearest Elizabeth, I cannot spend another moment without telling you, showing you, and proving to you that I love you.”

He then kissed her fervently, finally expressing all the passion he felt inside. He explored her lips like never before, his fingers finding their way into her hair. He could feel her response to the kiss then but she pulled away. He didn’t want to stop so early, the other kisses they shared lasted much longer.

Elizabeth put her finger to his lips and said, “
Shhh, I would love to continue in such a way but there is a promise you still have not clarified for me. You say you loved me before we were married. Is that the reason you never told my father that it was Wickham who compromised me? Is that why you married me?”

Darcy looked sheepish. “I would have to say I saw the moment as a road of opportunity.”

“A road of opportunity? What exactly is that?”

“I have to give the credit to Martin. I was very distressed the morning after the ball and he was trying to help me make my heart and
mind cooperate. He said that I should listen to my heart and let my mind find roads of opportunity. I pondered that on my horse ride and realized that being forced to marry you was the best opportunity that was ever placed before me and I was not about to let it slip by. One thing I learned from my father was not to let an opportunity go by that would make me a better man. I am a better man because I married you, Elizabeth. I am not the prideful man I know you once thought I was. I have tried to show you that.”

“I have not thought you were prideful since the ball when you comforted me instead of judged me for Wickham’s kisses. That opinion started changing even before that when Georgiana showed up unannounced. I saw how kind and loving you were with her and I realized I had judged you prematurely. I still struggled at times but mostly because I too had foreign feelings budding that I did not know what to do with since I could not imagine you loving me like you do now.” She leaned in and kissed him, letting her body take over. They kissed on the lips for a moment and then he explored her cheeks and then made his way back up to her eyes and he kissed them as well. Then he pulled away.

“I am truly sorry I did not have the courage to ask Bingley for two rooms. You did not even seem angry at me the next morning. How exactly did we end up in the same bed?”

She laughed, “It was a road of opportunity! It was a way to make my mind and
heart cooperate!”

He grinned and pulled her head to his chest to hold her close. When he looked outside, he saw they were slowing and had pulled up to the inn. One more day and they would be back at Pemberley.

“Oh, William?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too. More than I had ever hoped possible.”

*****

“What do you mean there are not two rooms?” Darcy bellowed at the innkeeper. Elizabeth put her hand on his arm and he looked at her beautiful face. He took a calming breath. He turned back to the innkeeper, “You must find a way. No one is leaving for the day? No one is traveling tonight? What if I gave you extra money?”

“No sir, it is Sunday. No one travels on Sunday; well, except you, sir, I suppose. But I do not see a problem if it is just you and your wife. It is a large bed and sleeps two quite comfortably.” The innkeeper fidgeted. Mr. Darcy was a regular and he always tipped well. He never gave him any problems before now and he didn’t know why he was so upset at him.

Elizabeth pulled William aside while addressing the innkeeper, “May I just have a word with my husband?” The innkeeper left the entryway and Elizabeth and Darcy were by themselves. She wasn’t quite sure why her husband was so irate. “William, it will be fine. Perhaps there is a chaise. And even if there is not, it is not like we have not slept in the same bed before. Do not get worked up over this. Save your strength for more important things. We are both weary and hungry.”

Darcy knew that sharing a bed was in no way possible. What Elizabeth didn’t realize was when they did sleep in the same bed together he was passed out and totally unaware of it. There was no way he had enough strength to knowingly, willingly, be in the same bed as Elizabeth and get any sleep at all. The early morning moment he had with her in his arms was still fresh in his mind, and if he relived it, by choice this time, he knew he would not let her go and kiss her all night long. This was not some youthful brother-sister relationship. His feelings were far from platonic. He could not be that near her and keep his promise and although they had expressed their love for each other, he knew she still needed to express her desire to change the relationship in that manner. She had not done that. And he definitely did not want to have their first night be in the Rose and Crown Inn even if she did! There was no way he had the fortitude to sleep next to her. He doubted he could even be in the same room, and a chaise was certainly unacceptable! Tempting as it was, he had to hold his ground.

His voice came out more like a whine, pained and pleading, “I cannot Elizabeth, I proved myself untrustworthy with requesting a room from Bingley. I cannot . . . I just cannot. I promised you that I would not . . . I want you to know I can be trustworthy again.”