Page 28 of A Letter in the Wind (Mayhem and Scandal Collection #1)

Elizabeth rested her head against her husband’s shoulder as they sat before the fire in the sitting room adjoining their chambers. The earlier refreshment tray had been of much use and now they awaited another one. Darcy yawned and stretched, appearing impossibly relaxed. He lowered his arms and used one to pull her even closer. The quiet content she had always longed for was this moment in his arms. She closed her eyes to savour it and recall every look, touch, and scent. They had not consumed any wine, and yet she felt entirely intoxicated. She chuckled to herself as a memory emerged.

“What makes you laugh, my dear?”

“Oh, I was just recalling how you boldly told the butler that you were giving me a tour and to not disturb us.”

“He has been married. He would understand.” Darcy caressed her hand. “I hope I did not mortify you too much.”

She flushed. “It was well worth it. I suppose I would have been flustered no matter what, and like so many things in life, it must be endured to reach a reward.”

“Hmm…very wise,” he agreed before taking a sip of tea. “Although, if you keep saying such things, we will not leave these chambers for days.”

“I am quaking in fear at your threat, sir,” she said with an impish grin.

The look of ardour he gave her before capturing her lips made her toes curl. No wonder he could not speak to her with such passion churning within him. To be the only one who could bring out such feelings elated and humbled her. She loved him before, but it was nothing to how she felt about him since becoming one. It ran far beyond the intense attraction and physical manifestation. This gentle giant of a man with the world at his feet stood alone amongst family and peers. He was hers to protect. She promised to love, honour, and obey in her wedding vows. Now, she added another one. She promised him loyalty and to never bring him reproach.

*****

Darcy’s mock threat of not leaving the chamber for days was not far from the truth. For three days, they spent every moment of the day with one another and ate all their meals on trays. Cloistered in their apartment, they had shut the world out and had the freedom to nurture their love. They took turns reading and had long conversations before the fire.

Elizabeth discovered many fascinating things about her husband, such as his hatred of cold tea, his love of holding her in his arms or even linking their hands together. She had suspected that he preferred silence to talking. Surprisingly, now that there was no pressure to perform, she learned that Darcy could willingly speak for hours on certain occasions, such as modes of transportation and his desire to travel the continent. After seeing some of the house on her previous visit, she was prepared for him to have exacting standards of cleanliness in their private chambers. On the contrary, he left articles of clothing on the floor, spilt tea, left crumbs littering the table, and hung his stockings by the fire. Although endearing, Elizabeth demanded the maid be allowed in to clean.

Despite her momentary annoyance, it encouraged her to expose her untidiness. Jane had been a fastidious roommate. She did not scold but constantly moved Elizabeth’s toiletry items to their appropriate place. She had feared that her penchant for leaving things lying about would irritate Darcy or make her appear incapable of being a proper mistress of his homes. Instead, he seemed relieved that she had a similar flaw.

After breaking their fast together, they would briefly separate to attend to their daily ablutions. On their third day of marriage, Elizabeth joined Darcy in the sitting room after her bath, watching as Darcy haphazardly searched for something around the room.

“Where is the volume of Lyrical Ballads , my dear?” Darcy asked. “I can only find the Burney novel you were reading me.”

“I believe it is under the latest copy of The Times , there on the green upholstered chair,” Elizabeth answered.

Darcy shuffled toward the chair, lifting the unwanted newspaper and snatched the book. “This is why we are perfect for one another. You can recall the exact placement of items in a sea of mess. Whereas I am hopelessly lost.”

Elizabeth laughed. “What shall happen in my old age? Shall we both be cast about?”

“Perhaps we shall have assistance from our numerous children and grandchildren,” he said with a wink.

“Just how many have you envisioned?”

Darcy chuckled and reached for her hand. “Only the Lord knows, but at least two of each.” He led her to the settee and nestled her in the crook of his shoulder. Then, he leafed through the book. “I could not help thinking of this poem while in the bath. It reminds me of you.”

She dwelt among the untrodden ways

Beside the springs of Dove,

A Maid whom there were none to praise

And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone

Half hidden from the eye!

—Fair as a star, when only one

It is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know...

Darcy looked up from the book and stroked Elizabeth’s arm. “Of course, the ending with the muse’s death does not suit. I wrote a new one for you.”

She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lizzy came to me

Her love whispers in the wind, oh,

The difference in me !

Elizabeth could only smile before Darcy embraced and kissed her until she could no longer think.

*****

Darcy clasped his wife, and her soft form moulded perfectly against him. He never knew he could have so many emotions at once. There was desire, which at times demanded all his attention. Even then, though, it was infused with love and tenderness. It was not the sort of demanding love he had witnessed in others. The kind of love that selfishly sought gratification either of physical affection or other signs of adoration. True, he craved Elizabeth’s every touch and demonstration of her love, ranging from a teasing look to playful banter to a gentle caress. Her kisses intoxicated him. It inspired him to lavish his love on her. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her lavender scent.

“Have I told you yet today how much I love you?” He murmured against her skin.

Even with shut eyes, he could feel her smile. He could envision her slight smile and the twinkle in her eye as a teasing remark flitted through her clever mind. He studied her so much that he could estimate her reaction to the second. Now, she arched her right brow.

“Only for the fiftieth time, but I will not abide by you shirking your duties, sir.”

“Ah, let me remedy that! Now, have I said it yet this hour?”

“Perhaps so, but I give you leave to praise me again. You must constantly practice your adoration to become proficient.”

“You are most correct.” He enumerated several of the ways he loved her. Trailing kisses over her cheek, he spent several minutes worshipping her beautiful face. Finally, he met her lips. “Have I met with your requirements, my love? Does my affection please you?”

She lazily nodded before meeting his lips again. His heart warmed as she seemed to intuitively know how to express herself to him in a fashion he could most understand. After having repressed feelings for most of his life, he had finally discovered a way to convey his inner thoughts and turmoil without bungling it all up with too many words. He drew back a little, lifting her chin to meet his eyes.

“I love you, my dearest Elizabeth. Is there anything you would prefer to do today? Perhaps the theatre or a museum?”

Her lips lifted in a teasing smile, drawing his attention to her mouth again. “Well, do you think I could finally have that house tour? We were rather too distracted a few days ago.”

He had never expected her to say such a thing and heartily guffawed as she laughed, her eyes shining in merriment.

“If you insist on leaving my arms and our rooms, then yes, let it only be for a house tour. With you here, I could happily remain indoors forever.”

“Would that not be the greatest sort of scandal? I can see the gossip rags. ‘Mr D of the great estate P in Derbyshire and his new wife have become recluses. No one has seen or heard from them since their nuptials last week. This magazine’s writers and editors cannot guess their motivation. Having previously dragged their names through the mud and having hounded Mr D for years, we cannot understand his disinterest in Society and his contentment with the company of his mere wife, who only recently lured him to the altar.”

Darcy laughed at her sarcastic remarks before standing. “It is a good thing you have never taken up the pen. Your clever comments would be lost on an undiscerning public. If we ever do have parties, then I am sure you will go down in history as one of the greatest wits of the ton .”

Elizabeth gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Honestly, I seldom seek to censure or criticise. I usually only want to amuse.”

“You always charm me. There were several occasions I had to fight laughter when you spoke to Miss Bingley.” He gave her a light peck on the nose, causing her to giggle. Then, he stretched to ready himself to stand. “Shall we get ready for our tour? I suppose if we leave our suite, then we ought to put on proper clothing.” They had lounged in merely their night clothes and robes each day.

Elizabeth nodded. “And if we do that, we might as well bathe and do our regular toilette.” She sighed and cringed. “Perhaps I do not wish for this tour after all. Marriage has made me quite lazy.”

Darcy stood and held out his hand to assist her in standing. Then, he could not resist pulling her directly into his arms. “As much as I love the time we have spent the last few days, reality must come. We have duties, and you have a right to at least see the house you reside in, which you will soon manage.”

He escorted her to her chamber, grinning as she slowly and reluctantly shut the door, standing in such a way that she peeked through until the very last second. The look of love and adoration in her eyes made his heart skip. How could such precious love be directed toward him?

An hour later, he awaited her in their sitting room. He glanced around the room. There was hardly an area in the London house that was not tainted with memories of his parents arguing and violent outbursts from his mother. He was prepared to be assaulted with unpleasant recollections in his mother’s former chambers. Amazingly, none of that intruded while in Elizabeth’s company. It was only now, without her soothing presence, that discomfort nagged at him.

“We will not have my parents’ marriage,” he vowed. “We love and respect each other.”

In the past, that had never been enough to quell the fear and anxiety. Did he not witness his parents also say they loved one another? Were they not a reputed love match? Their passion soon evaporated, and they were caught forever….at least until his mother was taken away.

“William?”

Elizabeth’s near voice jolted Darcy from his reverie.

“Are you well, dearest?” she asked cautiously.

“Certainly. I was merely wool-gathering.”

“Another time, and I would ask what my husband spends his spare moments contemplating. However,” she held up a finger, “I am desperate for this tour, and so my curiosity about your mind must wait.”

Darcy raised a brow at her. “Desperate, are you? Well, I had thought that I made entertaining company.”

“Hmmm.” She tapped her chin and cocked her head in mock contemplation. “Perfectly tolerable, but you need more practice.”

He reached for her, more than ready to “practice” spending more time with her, but she danced away from him. She giggled as she threw open the door and stepped into the hall, leading him on a merry chase. After a few feet, she allowed herself to be caught.

“Ah, I have you now, love.” He circled his arms around her.

She slowly ran her hands up his arms and looped them around his neck. “There is no one else I ever wish to be captured by.” She reached on tiptoe and gave him a light kiss. Then, quick as a flash, she lowered her arms and grasped his hand, giving him a tug. “Come!”

Darcy laughed, allowing himself to be led by his petite wife. Instead of guiding her through the house, he happily followed her as she wandered from room to room. The most interesting details fascinated her, while all the usual descriptions of grandeur or cost meant nothing.

“What is here?” she asked at a door after viewing several bedrooms on the third floor.

His heart accelerated as he considered what the room held. The chamber was at once a prison and a refuge. Elizabeth turned curious eyes on him, and the unwelcome memory dissolved into a glorious image of the future. His mouth dried as an unknown desire awakened in him. He slowly approached. Before opening the door, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. He said nothing as he led her through the doorway.

Once inside the nursery, he turned to face her, holding both of her hands in his. She took a moment to look around, and a softness came over her face. Her eyes shined when they returned to his gaze. He closed the gap between them.

“Will you make this house a home with me, Elizabeth? Do you wish to fill this room with our love as much as I do?”

“Yes, William.” She cupped his cheek with her hand and brushed his lips with hers. “This will be a home of love and joy.”

They embraced, and for a long moment, they remained in place, with her head over his heart. The longer he held her, the more determination grew in him. Alas, he could not accomplish his goal alone or with his wife in ignorance.

“I have something else to show you,” he murmured. “I cannot go without you. I fear it is not as lovely as the vista at Rosings or as endearing as this nursery. Will you come?”

“I will follow you anywhere. I trust you.”

He nodded, gripped her hand tightly as he led her down to the second floor, and stopped at portraits on the long wall between the drawing room and the principal bedrooms. “These are my Darcy great grandparents.”

Darcy paused as Elizabeth looked at each of them. “This woman, my father’s grandmother, was the daughter and heir to the final Somerset baron. He had no sons, and the barony became extinct. All of his money went to his only child. When she married, they built Pemberley.”

He paused as she took in his words. When she appeared ready for more information, he continued. “The Darcys had been a noble family in the area for some time. You may have heard of Lord Darcy during the so-called Pilgrimage of Grace. My ancestor was executed and stripped of his title for not firing upon Catholic civilians who protested Henry the Eighth’s changes. He was branded a traitor and heretic. The next generation felt they had to prove everything. Soon, his barony became extinct. The marriage of a Darcy to a Somerset filled my family’s heart with a lust for prestige and power.”

Next, he led Elizabeth to another wall which contained his grandparents. “Here are both sets of my grandparents. As you heard from Mrs Gardiner, her father was friendly with my Darcy grandfather. Frederick Darcy was a younger son and not expected to inherit. I believe as such he was not taught the family’s typical coldness and greed. You will notice that there are no portraits of my mother’s grandparents. That is because the family is not proud of them.” Darcy pointed at his mother’s father, the former Lord Fitzwilliam. “The previous lord was a gambler, a drunk, and a womanizer. His father was ten times worse—a true Hellfire Club member. It was around some fifty years ago. Led by Sir Francis Dashwood, they revelled in the bawdy and impure.”

Elizabeth gasped, and Darcy nodded.

“Shocking, is it not? Well, my Fitzwilliam grandfather married a woman descended from Puritans. Although the family had rejoined the Church during the Restoration, strict adherence to forced piety remained.”

Now, Darcy directed Elizabeth to the portrait of his mother and father. “There are other portraits of them at Pemberley. A copy of the piece painted for Mother’s debut is there. This painting was done a few years after their marriage. It was to be a family piece, with the hope and expectation of a baby and heir to join them before completion.”

Darcy closed his eyes against the pain of all his family memories and felt Elizabeth slip her small hand around his elbow. She stood close, leaning her head against his arm.

“You do not have to tell me anything else. We can finish the tour another time. I never need to know anything about your family, for they are not you .” She leant on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

He turned and pulled her into his arms. Once embracing her, he felt his courage rise. “We all inherit things from our family. Contrary to what so many others think, I do not believe it is completely in our blood, but it is there. Just as much as my father passed down his build and colouring while I inherited my facial features from the Fitzwilliams, I bear the scars and failures of each generation.”

He rested his head on her hair and breathed in her scent for several moments. At last, he continued, “Mother lost the baby. She lost many before I was born. Some of them were early on, and some of them were during birth. When I was born, I carried the weight of many lost and unknown siblings. My parents hardly acknowledged me, perhaps because they did not want to be hurt if I should perish, too. Or maybe it was simply because they grieved too much. I shall never know. In the end, it was my parents whose lives were cut short.”

Elizabeth squeezed him tightly. “I am so sorry, William. I wish I could take away all your pain.”

“I know you do, my love. However, it is mine to bear. I would never want you to experience what haunts me.”

“You have said you believe that things are passed through generations. Perhaps acknowledging the issues can help fight them. You do not have to pretend they are not there or that you can keep me from being influenced by them. If not for me, then think of our future children.”

Darcy froze. At first, a cold chill went up his spine. How could he ever tell Elizabeth the truth about his parents? She would be terrified of him. She would reject him. Then, as she murmured words of love, a calm warmth spread around him. Love was the answer.

Immediately, fear engulfed him, threatening to consume even the air he breathed. Inside his mind, a war raged between fear and faith, faith not only in Elizabeth’s love and acceptance but also in the fact that he was not destined to carry on their problems.

Unbidden, the twenty-third Psalm came to his mind. Beginning as a small child directed by his nurses, he had read the entire psalter each month. In fact, this evening, he would read Psalm 23. Did he believe it? Did he genuinely trust that he need not fear anything, and that God wanted only good for him? That he could have true and lasting peace?

As Elizabeth nestled even closer, new understanding permeated his heart and soul. What had he ever done to deserve this beautiful, selfless woman? Likewise, he could never deserve God’s love. It was a gift, and he would take it.

With renewed determination, Darcy led Elizabeth to the study. He gathered her hands in his. His own felt clammy with sweat as nervousness filled him, but he would not turn back now. Taking a deep breath, he said a silent and quick prayer for courage and peace. “This room has been my prison for most of my life. Not a single thing has changed about it since I can remember. Behind this settee is where I was hiding when my mother was taken away.”