Page 29 of A Letter in the Wind (Mayhem and Scandal Collection #1)

Elizabeth listened in silence as Darcy explained about his parents’ marriage and the devastating childhood he experienced. She had no words to offer that could alleviate her husband’s suffering. Instead, she communicated her support and love in other ways—with an embrace, a caress, a kiss.

“Mother felt too much—had too much emotion.” Darcy dropped his head to Elizabeth’s shoulder. “That runs in my veins. There are times the feelings nearly overcome me. I fear one day, I, too, shall go mad. You should be terrified of me.”

“This is why you did not wish to marry for love,” Elizabeth spoke as understanding dawned on her. “To be rejected by the woman you loved would be too much. It was safer to keep everyone out.” She squeezed him tightly. “They broke your heart, and you could not trust anyone again. Despite these things, William, I see no signs of madness. What makes you think her affliction was hereditary? Has anyone else in the family been similarly affected?”

“Her grandfather went beyond all boundaries of decent society, and her father was not much better.”

“Were they unrepentant and unpunished murderers? They harmed children and innocent animals?”

“No.” Darcy shook his head. “Drinking, gambling, whoring. Her grandfather rejected the Church and joined a group of men that mocked all things righteous and good.”

“I do not condone any of that, of course,” Elizabeth said. “Just the same, those behaviours do not strike me as a health or mental concern. They are a matter of faith. For whatever reason, he did not believe he needed to abide by the laws of God. It does not seem that he broke the laws of man any more seriously than many others.”

“And the fear that I cannot keep control of my emotions? What of that?”

“I come from the wrong family to try and tell you that you must never have an emotion. Perhaps if you allowed yourself the freedom to feel the emotion without condemnation, it would leave quicker and not have to overtake you to be acknowledged.” Elizabeth paused as she thought over something he had said earlier. “What did your father mean when he said, “I have told you what I would do if it ever happened again”? What was he talking about?”

“I do not know. I have wondered that myself a few times but have had no one I could ask.”

“He said she frequently left the house at all hours. Darling, is it not probable that she had a lover and your father was jealous?”

Darcy dipped his head. “Oh, I knew she had many. They frequently argued about it and did not care to hide from me or any passing servant. I am certain my father despised her for it but was probably not innocent himself. Usually, he did not react so viscerally to such behaviour. There must have been some event.”

“If that is the case, it was about her behaviour and choices. Her actions—not merely her feelings.”

“Richard says that she was addicted to laudanum and became more erratic as she got older.”

“Do you believe your father would be so cruel as to send her to an asylum simply because he could not stand her intense emotions?” Elizabeth wondered aloud. “There would have been other, less extreme, options.”

Darcy thought for a long moment. “It was not a rash decision. It was clearly planned.” He hung his head and took a deep breath before continuing. “I cried when they took her away. Father did not care for my emotional display. He was constantly telling me to be a man. I feared I would be taken, too. In a way, I was. I was sent to Eton—although that had long been scheduled.”

Elizabeth squeezed him tightly. “You are not your mother.”

Darcy swallowed several times, and his eyes shimmered before he could speak. “You do not know what it means to me to hear someone say that.”

“I am sorry that you have never had someone you could talk to about this. My heart aches so much to think of the hurt you have been through.”

Darcy looked down at her and gently wiped away a tear streaking across her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Do not weep for me, my dearest. What kind of man am I that I must burden my wife with my hurts?”

“I think…” She trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I think this is what a true marriage ought to be. We shoulder each other’s burdens. I will fight for you just as fiercely as you will fight for me. You have already done so. What did you say to my mother?”

He did not immediately respond. Instead, Darcy stroked her back as she listened to the beat of his heart. Finally, he kissed the top of her head. “I told her that if she ever insulted you again or caused you distress then she would not be welcome in our homes, I would deny all association with her and do everything I could to discredit her.”

Immediately, fear coursed through Elizabeth. Every muscle she had tensed.

“What is it?” Darcy asked. “I know it must sound harsh, my love, but I can think of nothing else to motivate her. I will not abide anyone abusing you.”

“It is not abuse; it is punishment,” she whispered. “And I deserve it.”

“Impossible!”

“William, concealing Lydia’s elopement was not the only secret I kept from you,” she confessed through tears. “I had thought once we married, none of it would matter, but my mother reminded me that it would.”

“What can you mean?”

“Upstairs, you spoke of wanting to fill the house with babies. I want that more than anything. All I have ever wanted was to have a loving husband and family, children of my own that I could cherish.” Words refused to come as her voice strangled. Elizabeth took a few shuddery breaths and tried again. “When I was born, my parents desperately wanted a son. Mother had a difficult pregnancy with me, and they were concerned that perhaps she could not carry another. All hope rested on this second birth. I am told that a father always wants a son, but an heir was necessary to end the entail and not leave Mama expelled from the house. Then, I came out.”

“That is hardly your fault,” Darcy said soothingly. “How ridiculous of them to hope so extremely in that. Besides, your mother had three more daughters. Did she greet them all with the same disappointment?”

“No,” Elizabeth answered. “She met them with mourning and deep grief that has never lifted. You see, minutes after I was born, another came. I had a twin brother.”

Darcy squeezed her tightly. “I am sorry, love. Unfortunately, many babies are weak. I have already told you about my mother losing several.”

Elizabeth’s mouth ran dry, but she forced herself to continue. “I was stronger than him,” she said. “The midwife said I must have taken all his strength.” She closed her eyes as the memories of her mother’s story assaulted her. “He lingered for a few weeks, but it was not until a I grew ill one night, and the nurse was busy tending to me, that he passed. They said he never made a sound, whereas I always fussed and demanded attention. I have always been too much but also not quite enough.” The following words were nearly as silent as drawing breath. “I have always been unwanted.”

“No.” Darcy’s lips grazed her ear as he spoke so lowly, she had to focus to catch his words. “You were what I always wanted. Maybe your family did not want you—they could not appreciate you—but you have every quality that I always desired. I have needed your playfulness and love all my life.” He kissed her. “The things you have endured have made you into this woman. It has made you strong, loving, forgiving—all things that I need, and you must possess to be married to stubborn me.”

“I thought you were the epitome of graciousness and good humour, William,” she said sarcastically, uncomfortable with his assurances.

Darcy lightly chuckled. “It was all part of my plot—to coax you into marrying me without a good quality to my name.”

Elizabeth smiled at his teasing before growing serious. “Perhaps it is better to leave our parents in the past.”

Darcy’s brow furrowed. “I do not think that is possible, my love. We cannot merely shut the door on the heartache in our lives.”

As he talked, a realisation struck Elizabeth. She had one more confession to make. “I have always craved my mother’s love. In fact, if she could not love me, who could? That is why I desperately wished to marry for love alone. If I were forced to marry anyone else, I would have been inconsolable. I managed the situation with you only because I already wanted to marry you. I had other fears, though. I was terrified you would never return my love.” She held her breath, ready for his offence at her admittance.

He gazed at her affectionately, seemingly undaunted by her fears. “And yet, I already did. I am rather sure that I always have.”

“Even before you knew me?”

“Perhaps I loved you best then.”

Elizabeth released a shocked and offended gasp, and he burst into laughter. She scoffed that he had found a way to tease her and then laughed in glee. “Ooh, just wait. I will retaliate when you least expect it.”

“I quake in fear, my love.” Darcy kissed her forehead. “I do not know the moment or the day I fell in love with you. All of a sudden, I realised that I had. The process was nearly imperceptible because you had been a part of my heart for so long. But how did I not discern it earlier? I became aware that I was attracted to and liked you—you fascinated me. But even by then, it was hopeless. I cannot conceive of anyone not loving you.”

He gave her a sweet kiss on the lips that was interrupted by Elizabeth’s stomach grumbling. They broke apart in laughter.

“I suppose we ought to feed you!” Darcy said. “There should be a tray in the room by now.”

They returned to their chambers, shutting out the rest of the world and painful memories. Elizabeth knew that her husband had been correct. They could not pretend as though the wounds of the past did not exist. Now hope leaped in their hearts. Perhaps healing would begin after a lifetime of hurts.

Despite the matrimonial bliss, they had to emerge on the fifth day for church. Nerves filled Elizabeth as they boarded the coach for the short distance. She would have preferred to walk, but it rained. When they arrived, many stood and openly gawked. Elizabeth wanted to run back to the house and avoid the harsh looks forever.

“Have courage, love,” Darcy murmured in her ear.

She gave him a quick nod but also kept her eyes down. She would not be intimidated if she did not see their looks. All through service, she could feel eyes upon her. A quick peek showed her that some people could attend to the homily and were not curious.

A new struggle emerged. The scripture reading was on the rebellion of Korah and Dathan against Moses after the Israelites left Egypt and wandered in the wilderness. The rector, who was not the minister on Good Friday, used it to speak against individual freedoms.

“It is a spirit of rebellion that is upon the people today, too,” Reverend Montagu said. “It can appear in many forms. Criticising His Majesty, desiring what they call self-rule.” He paused, and Elizabeth swore that he was looking directly at them. “Another common practice is marrying to disoblige relations and the head of the family.”

Elizabeth felt Darcy tense beside her. His jaw clenched, and his hands were balled into fists. His gaze lingered on his uncle, the earl. Above them stood a large, stained-glass window with a beautiful scene of the binding of Isaac and Abraham’s near sacrifice of his promised son. Abraham had the knife perfectly poised to strike. Was that what the earl was now doing, only not at the behest of the Lord?

Darcy did not linger to speak with anyone after service ended, which suited Elizabeth just fine. She would suggest that they attend services with the Gardiners in the future. They had nearly made it to their carriage before a voice that sent chills down Elizabeth’s spine stopped them. She would never forget it from that evening at the opera.

“The newlyweds,” Mr Ingalls said in a tone dripping with malice. “I am unsurprised you are not on your honeymoon.” He stepped closer to them. “After all, you’ve already enjoyed your milk before you bought the cow. Is it souring after marriage? Or is that just your cow’s face?”

Elizabeth stumbled backwards as though physically assaulted. For a moment, she thought Darcy would resort to violence. He yanked Ingalls by his lapels, nearly lifting the shorter man off the ground.

“Moderate your words, or there will be consequences,” Darcy said in a lethal voice.

“Only the guilty would be so defensive,” Ingalls said. He gripped Darcy’s wrists.

From Elizabeth’s position, she saw a crazed—almost rabid—gleam in the man’s eyes. Darcy’s display thrilled rather than terrified him. He would not back down. He wanted things to escalate.

Thinking quickly, Elizabeth laid a hand on Darcy’s arm. “Let us go home.”

Darcy looked down at her before lowering the scoundrel. “My wife and I leave town in a few days. I better not see you again.”

Ingalls took a few steps away, and Darcy handed Elizabeth into the carriage. Just before he climbed in, Ingalls loudly called out, “Count on it. I shall be as scarce as your family is. For we all know that they abhor the grasping seductress. Even with a fortune, no other gentleman wanted such tainted goods. The whole family is ruined!”

Darcy turned, and Elizabeth was sure he would have approached Ingalls and either harmed him or invited him to the field of honour, but she pulled on his arm. “Come, my love. Let him be. No one can think his behaviour is appropriate, and you should not stoop to it.”

Darcy’s muscles strained under his garments. She could see that his every impulse was to defend her honour. After a long moment, he boarded the coach. They rode in silence to the house, but she did what she could to soothe him. She cuddled close and tore off her glove, stroking his cheek. They both seemed to relish in the contact of skin. Just before arriving at the house, she met his lips.