Page 22

MR AND MRS DARCY REUNITE

D arcy hurried up the steps, almost desperate to see Elizabeth.

It was bad enough to be trapped in town this additional week, but it pained him physically to have spent the entire day away from her, standing around Tattersall’s overhearing debauched peers’ tawdry discussions about women and whether the joys of a mistress’s flesh were worth more than the price of this horse or that one.

Even if his own company had centred their conversation on horses and youthful exploits on their estates, the stench of decadence had surrounded them.

He had endured far too many knowing smiles and handshakes congratulating him on his marriage and asking whether he had already tired of his new country bride.

This is why he despised being in town, why he had wanted to whisk Elizabeth away from the prying eyes and gossiping lips of the ton .

This is not how it should be. Wasting our treasured first weeks of married life worried over Lady Catherine’s opinions and romances. And stinking of horse, leather, tobacco, and whisky.

He glanced into the drawing room—empty—and continued down the corridor. Finding the music room and study empty too, he turned to a housemaid lighting candles.

“Where is Mrs Darcy?” The awestruck girl shook her head.

“In her—your, the small, um, sitting room. I was taking this to her there.” Another maid stood at the staircase, holding a tea tray.

Darcy reached for it. “I shall take it.” He climbed the stairs, strolled down the corridor, and stopped at his wife’s bedchamber. “Oh, Mrs Darcy,” he called in a high-pitched voice as he opened the door. “I have brought you what you wished for.”

Elizabeth, the picture of loveliness in an ivory gown, looked up, laughing at him. How he adored making her laugh. Darcy set down the tray, desperate to taste her rosy lips. Her nose wrinkled as he drew near. “A long day with horses, my love?”

He gave her a rueful look. Blast! So much for a cuddle.

“I requested a bath to be readied upon your return, and asked for dinner to be served here,” Elizabeth said, almost shyly. “I hope that was not too forward. I can only imagine what the servants are thinking of your new wife.”

“They are wishing, as I am, that you had arrived here much, much sooner.” He smiled tenderly. “Thank you.”

A good soaping down and the promise of an intimate evening alone with his wife lifted Darcy’s mood, and within half an hour, he had returned to the warm, cosy room.

He kissed her hungrily before both turned their appetites to the leek soup, roast chicken, and puddings on the small round table where, he hoped, they would share many such intimate meals in the years ahead.

His stomach full, his mind unburdened, Darcy pulled Elizabeth onto his lap. His knee hurt from one of the day’s many tumbles, but he paid it no heed.

“Tell me of your day,” she said.

“Beyond that I missed you terribly, old earls walk too slowly, and I wish to see the back of every acquaintance I have in this blasted town?”

“Oh, my poor man,” she said, tucking her head into his neck. “I am sorry for whatever you endured, but it does promise to be an aromatic tale.”

He groaned. “I employ men to stock my stables. Why anyone wishes to stand about for hours in the cold, examining teeth and hoofs, and speaking aloud every impure thought is beyond my ken.”

“It seems the stalls were cleaner than the tongues,” she replied, immediately shaming him for having spoken so openly of his disgust. Before he could apologise, Elizabeth said, in an unexpectedly light voice, “No matter the hygiene or the cleaning, barns will always have flies and such. Did the earls wager on flies or fleas?”

“I fear my uncle would have the advantage if they had. Lord Cadbury is not only gouty and hard of hearing but is half blind as well,” he said, recalling the sight of the man stooped over, a quizzing glass pressed to his eye as he peered at the description of the horse towering over him.

She kissed his jaw, eliciting another groan from him, before saying in that teasing voice she had, “Tell me what you learnt of Lady Catherine’s admirer.”

“You choose this conversation over the one we could enjoy in our bed?” Feeling her nod, Darcy shifted her off his sore knee and attempted to right his thoughts.

“Lord Cadbury is as we saw him, gregarious and easy to laugh. He appears known to many of my uncle’s acquaintances and well-liked by most.”

“Only most? That is not promising.”

“Ah, but I speak in the singular. According to Fitzwilliam, the earl appears to have had his own Wickham, a former friend turned envious enemy, in the form of Robert Wilkes, a baronet and cousin to Cadbury’s late wife.”

“Envious? Did he wish to marry his cousin? ”

“It is more likely he coveted her fortune. Yes, I know,” he assured her, “that Lord Cadbury apparently needed her fortune as well, but there appears to have been true affection between him and his wife, as they had five children.”

“A terrible blow to young Lady Catherine Fitzwilliam,” murmured Elizabeth. “Did he know of your aunt’s feelings?”

“I think not. A man some eight years her senior likely viewed her only as his friend’s much-younger sister. Seeing her now—much as he can see, for he appears quite blind—I wonder at his interest. I should think him wanting his final years in peace.”

“He might be lonely,” Elizabeth said, shifting on his lap and rubbing his shoulders. “And she seems quite the delicate flower in his company.”

“Yes, not the strong, stubborn, unyielding weed we all know.”

“She has yielded to our marriage,” Elizabeth replied. “To me.”

“As she should,” he said, gratefully sinking into his wife’s ministrations. “Wait, what was it you said about betting on fleas?”

Laughing, Elizabeth told him about the earl’s letters. “There is a lady, a girlhood friend of Lady Catherine’s, who may be familiar with your aunt’s affections for Lord Cadbury.”

“I hope my aunt’s intentions are honourable, for neither Fitzwilliam nor I observed anything untoward in his conduct, nor in others’ reception of him.”

“As you said. And her love for him was quite pure, albeit that of a schoolgirl.”

“I suppose we shall have to make our final judgments at that godforsaken dinner with my family. It must be our final engagement, Elizabeth. We cannot grant them another hour of our time.”

“I agree,” she whispered, her fingers tracing her favourite spot behind Darcy’s ear.

When he moaned, she murmured, “I too anticipate our escape from town, and hosting your family is to be the final test of my future success in society.” In a house I have lived in for mere weeks and most of that spent in these rooms. She bit back a sigh, feeling the tension gripping her husband.

Darcy would know her worries, and she must reassure him of her readiness.

“I am fully able to do so. I spoke to Mrs Raskin and Cook about Lady Catherine’s call tomorrow, and both are quite able to?—”

Shifting Elizabeth off his lap, Darcy stood and paced back and forth, finally stopping to give her a beseeching look.

In his stocking feet, his collar twisted and his hair tousled, he looked the little boy readying a tantrum.

“Of course you are able to, but you should not be asked to tolerate another moment under my aunt’s thumb!

Despite having nothing to prove to her or to the ton , you have done so time and again.

Why do you feel you must do as she asks?

My family adores you and finds Lady Catherine ridiculous in her assumptions. ”

His anger seemed to subside into earnest frustration, which sat more handsomely on his beloved countenance. Elizabeth rose and reached for his hands. “I believe your aunt is overwhelmed with feeling, and with the rush of meeting Lord Cadbury anew, she is vulnerable?—”

“Vulnerable?” Darcy shuddered.

“—and in need of my assistance. A lesson, even.”

“Just one? She is in need of so many lessons, particularly from you, my love.” He pulled her closer and asked, “What, specifically, will you be teaching her?”

“Arts and allurements. She would be a true proficient had she ever been taught.”