Page 27 of Fitzwilliam Darcy An Honourable Man

Pemberley

Tight muscles finally began to relax as William sank deeper into the warm water filling the oversized tub. After several moments of enjoying the sensation, he sat up straight and grabbed a cloth and soap and began scrubbing. Completely finished in a short while, he plunged under the water, re-emerging seconds later, wiping the water from his face. Then laying his head against a small, folded towel on the back of the tub, he closed his eyes, anticipating the pleasure of having more hot water added as soon as Adams returned. Exhausted, he barely noticed the opening and closing of the dressing room door. Without looking, he murmured, “That did not take long.”

Waiting expectantly for the hot water to be emptied into the vessel, he was surprised when none came. Realising there had been no answer to his greeting and thinking it odd, he ventured, “Adams?”

There was still no answer. Looking over his shoulder, he could see no one as the room was only lit by a couple of candles, and the corners were left in the shadows. Perplexed, he stood and reached for the towel that Adams always placed on his dressing table. There was no towel on the table, nor was his robe hanging on the hook where it always resided. With a resigned sigh, he stepped out of the tub to obtain a towel from the linen closet. “What a time to forget ...”

His words abruptly halted as Gwendolyn Waltham stepped out of the darkness holding up his robe. Winking at him, she threw the article of clothing on a nearby chair and took a step closer, holding out the towel. In order to take the offering, however, William would have to move towards her. He hesitated.

“My, my, Fitzwilliam! The boy that I knew has become quite a man.” Lust-filled eyes trailed from his face to his groin. “It looks as though you have ... grown .”

Trying to mask his uneasiness, William replied through gritted teeth, “Give me the towel and get out of my room.”

She laughed. “I believe, sweetheart, that you are in no position to give orders.” Untying the ribbon at the top of her dressing gown, it fell open and Gwendolyn shrugged her shoulders, causing the silky material to slide down her arms.

“Do you want to see what you are rejecting? You may change your mind.” Still holding the towel, she slid first one arm and then the other out of the sleeves, sending the offending article floating to the floor. Beneath it, she wore a very sheer, silk nightgown and, clearly, nothing else.

A look of revulsion crossed William’s face and his eyes narrowed. “My valet will return at any moment. I suggest you leave before he does.”

Gwendolyn was not discouraged. “On the contrary, I think you are not so concerned with your valet’s return, but you fear your little plaything may find me here?”

“I have no idea who you mean.”

“Oh, my! Are we not protective? You are not fooling anyone. The story of your cousin has reached London, and everyone believes that she is your mistress, although I had hoped they were wrong. What could you possibly see in her? Honestly, I would have thought you, of all men, would choose a lover from your own sphere. I hear she is but a country chit, unlearned I am certain, and undoubtedly lacking in proper decorum. Besides, I have seen her, and she is certainly no beauty!”

William stepped forward, jerking the towel from her hands and quickly tying it around his waist. “You do not even know Miss Lawrence, yet you condemn her and call her a whore. I am not surprised. You, like most of the women of the ton , are conceited, selfish and lacking human decency and morals. Life is a just a game to you—a chance to see how many heads you can turn, how many men you can bed. You cannot conceive of a lady like my cousin—someone who is all that is virtuous, selfless and lovely—so you disparage her and try to ruin her reputation.”

Catching him off guard, Gwendolyn quickly ran her hands up his wet abdomen to his chest, admiring the feel of the hardness under her palms. “Surely you do not mean that.”

He pushed her away forcefully, taking several steps back. “I meant every word!”

The hurt she felt was evident in her eyes, but she was undeterred. “There was a time when you welcomed my touch, Fitzwilliam. Do you not remember our passion? We could still be good for each other, if you would only calm yourself and let passion have its way. I have never forgotten how fervent we were, but you would be astounded at the many ways that I have learned to please you now. Most men only dream of the sensuality I am offering to you. No other woman of your acquaintance can possibly match it. Let me live the rest of my life pleasing only you ... let me be your mistress.”

“Fortunately our relationship was years ago, when I was young and naive. When your husband died, I only meant to help you—never to become your lover. Thank God, I am no longer a gullible boy and will never again be taken in by someone as vulgar as you. So please, do not embarrass yourself further. Go back to your room and stay there. I mean to post a footman to assure that you do. I want you out of my home at first light.”

“And if I refuse?”

A decidedly angry voice came from the direction of the doorway, “Lady Waltham!”

Gwendolyn jumped at the sound of Lord Greenwich’s displeasure and paled as he opened the door that she had failed to close properly.

“I have heard it all. Come, madam! I will escort you to your room. You have upset Mr. Darcy long enough, and I, for one, am ashamed of having brought you here.”

Looking back at William, Gwendolyn realised that her gambit had failed. Huffing as she stooped to pick up her dressing gown, she donned it hastily before stalking to the door and stopping in front of the elderly gentleman. She hissed, “I need no escort, you old fool!”

Lord Greenwich watched her progress down the hall until satisfied that she was inside her room before addressing William. Without turning to look at his young host, he offered solemnly, “Please excuse me for insinuating myself into your business, Darcy, and for inadvertently bringing this woman here. Be assured that I shall remove her from your home tomorrow morning as soon as it is light. And you can rest assured that this matter shall never be spoken of by me.” Lord Greenwich closed the door behind him, not expecting a reply.

Adams came into the room barely a minute after that gentleman had retreated to his own bedchamber. A quizzical look spread across the valet’s face as he realised that William was not in the tub.

“Are you ready for more hot water, sir?”

“I believe I have been in all the hot water I can stand tonight, Adams. I apologise for the trouble, but I am going to bed. You may clean this up in the morning.”

Adams observed the tired slump of his Master’s shoulders as he headed into his bedroom. Scratching his head, the loyal valet poured the bucket of hot water into the tub and headed to his own quarters.

That is strange. The Master’s bath did not seem to relax him in the least.

Meryton

The Vicar’s Cottage

Mrs. Haversham found the former vicar where she often came across him, amongst the graves. He often tended his family plots, pulling weeds and tending to the flowers. Frequently, he would place wildflower cuttings by the headstones, as he had today. She watched as Mr. Williamson stopped at his parents’ graves first and then attended to his wife’s. But it was when he stopped at Elizabeth Bennet’s grave and pulled a few weeds before placing some wildflowers on her headstone, that tears filled her eyes. It was well known in Meryton that Elizabeth had been like a daughter to the old gentleman and her death had taken much of his spiritedness out of him, but it had been a blow to her as well.

Ah, dear Elizabeth, how you loved wildflowers! My Julie would have been so happy to be sharing her wedding day with you. You were such good friends. Taking a shaky breath, she pushed away heartbreaking memories, as the dear man stood and made a display of straightening his back. When Mr. Williamson turned in her direction, she approached.

“Do you think the weather is going to stay rainy, Mr. Williamson, or will the Good Lord smile on us and let the sun break out for the wedding tomorrow?”

The old vicar smiled at the grey-haired woman who made sure the church was prepared for the services every week. “Well, now, Mrs. Haversham, I believe we must have faith that what we ask in prayer, believing, we shall have. And I, for one, believe that we will have sunshine. And you?”

Mrs. Haversham smiled, her lined face suddenly transforming with faith. “Aye, Vicar, I believe we will have sunshine as well.”

“Good.” Mr. Williamson smiled. “It only takes two to agree in faith for something to be done.”

“Just as you have preached all these years.” She grinned to see the vicar beam. “I just wanted you to know that I have finished preparing the church, and I am going home. I must help my daughter with the wedding breakfast, and we still have much to do. It is not every day that a granddaughter weds.”

“No, indeed, my good woman, and I am proud to be the one chosen to conduct the ceremony.”

“Well, we mean no offense to Mr. Clary. He is a good man and all, but you christened Julie, and nothing would suit her, nor us, but that you conduct the marriage as well.”

“I assure you, Mrs. Haversham, that Mr. Clary takes no offense. He realises that years from now he will be marrying all the babies that he is christening lately. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go home and practice what I shall say tomorrow.”

The old woman laughed. “Practice? You have used the same service for as long as you have been here. Surely, you know it by heart.”

Now it was Mr. Williamson’s turn to laugh. “I am getting older and, believe it or not, I am more forgetful. So I like to prepare as though it were my very first time. If I am relaxed and confident that I know the words by heart, then I can concentrate on calming the bride and groom and ensuring that they enjoy the experience as well.”

“Then that accounts for all the brides who sing your praises, Mr. Williamson.”

A smile split his face, and his brown eyes lit up. “I do not know about that, madam, but I do enjoy a good wedding.”

Suddenly, Mrs. Haversham saddened. “I could not help but notice that you placed flowers on Miss Elizabeth’s grave. You know that she and my Julie were lifelong friends. It is so sad that she did not get to marry in our parish, or even come back home to visit—and then, to be taken from us so young, and in such a horrific way.”

Mr. Williamson tried to blink back the tears that always appeared on remembrance of Lizzybet. “Yes, it was a tragedy. I find it hard to believe sometimes that she is gone.” A ragged breath shook his gangly frame as his eyes sought Elizabeth’s headstone over the others. “I suppose that that is why you may find me there so often, reading the inscription ... just to remind myself.”

Mrs. Haversham touched his arm. “I apologise. I should not have brought it up. I did not realise your pain was still so tender.”

He tried to rally. “You have said nothing amiss. I thought that I had come to accept her loss months ago, but a young man came looking for her grave a few weeks past. I am afraid that his pain was so fresh—so raw—that it stirred my own. I assure you that I shall be well, given enough time.”

She smiled sincerely. “I shall pray that the Lord stays close to you in your sorrow and one day soon relieves you of it entirely, so that your only memories of her are happy ones.”

“Thank you, madam. I shall believe with you that He will.”

There was a rumble of thunder in the distance, and they both looked up at the dark clouds gathering. Mr. Williamson pulled his collar up, motioning towards the gate that marked the entrance to the small cemetery.

“Though there is sure to be sunshine tomorrow, for now I think it wise that we move along rather quickly, or we shall both get soaked.”

Big drops of rain began falling, and each could hear the other’s laughter as they ran in different directions.

~~~*~~~

Reaching his small abode, Mr. Williamson pushed opened the door and began wiping his shoes on the small rug just inside the door. With his dear Agatha gone, he tried to keep the little cottage as clean as possible. As he walked over to the kitchen table, he was surprised to find a letter lying there. It was normal for the young man who brought his letters to leave them on the table, but he had already heard from his brother this week and was not expecting any more correspondence. Noting the elegant script, he glanced up to see where the letter had been franked and was surprised to see the return—Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pemberley, Derbyshire.

How unusual to get a letter from him right after my conversation with Mrs. Haversham about Lizzybet. Are you trying to tell me something, Lord?

Carefully unfolding it, he began to read, his brow furrowing the further he read. Past the usual pleasantries, the letter was an invitation, almost a plea, for his presence. After reading though it once, he began again at the top, reaffirming the important parts.

… have much to talk with you about concerning Elizabeth…

… consider accepting my offer of a coach to collect you and bring you to Town…

… stay with me at Darcy House…

… if agreeable…travel on to Pemberley…

Scratching his head, Mr. Williamson wondered what more Mr. Darcy could possibly have to talk about regarding Lizzybet. He thought they had covered everything when the young man was in Meryton. Sighing, he knew he would never refuse someone in need and especially not a man he now considered to be a friend. Besides, he had insisted that Mr. Darcy contact him if he ever needed to talk, and if that poor young man still needed his help, then he must make himself available .

The fact that a change of scenery and a few weeks of a different occupation was part of the invitation only made his acceptance easier.

Pemberley

As is common after a terrible storm, the next day dawned sunny and beautiful. Only the broken branches and leaves strewn about the portico and grounds testified to the severity of the weather that preceded the bright blue skies and downy white clouds.

The visiting party practically fled from Pemberley at daybreak, though Mrs. Reynolds made sure Cook had plenty of food prepared to break their fast before they departed. Mr. Darcy had made a brief appearance in the dining room, speaking politely, though never acknowledging Gwendolyn, as he assured Lord and Lady Greenwich that he had been happy to provide them respite from the storm. Nevertheless, it seemed to the housekeeper that the Greenwiches were in a big hurry to resume their journey and took very little time to eat. Thus, by the time Elizabeth made her way downstairs, only William remained in the room, finishing a well-deserved cup of tea. Looking up at her entrance, he could not hold back a smile as he greeted her.

“Good morning.”

Elizabeth tried to form a smile, but her expression changed to one of confusion. “Good morning. Have your visitors come down yet?”

“Our guests were up very early and left several minutes ago.”

“Oh?” Elizabeth stated, her confusion changing to dismay. “I am sorry I did not get to see them before they departed.”

Now William was curious. “And why, may I ask, would you care to see Lady Waltham again? I take it you were not that anxious to see Lord and Lady Greenwich?”

Elizabeth looked down nervously. “No, I wanted to see her . I was much too fascinated by her sudden arrival and her show of temper to actually look at her closely.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I thought this might be my last chance to study her appearance ... to understand her appeal.”

William stood and moved to take both her hands in his. Neither spoke, though she knew he was waiting for an explanation. Still studying her slippers, she let out a resigned sigh. “If you must know, I saw her go into your room last night.”

William closed his eyes, irritated that Lady Waltham’s antics might have upset Elizabeth. “And did you see her leave shortly thereafter?”

“No.” She tried to cover her concern with a mirthless laugh. “I could not bear to know how long she stayed.”

Pulling her into a tight embrace, he felt her hands surround his waist as he whispered in her hair. “She came in while I was taking a bath with intentions of seducing me, but I rebuffed her. However, had Lord Greenwich not come down the hall shortly after she entered, I am afraid I would have had to summon help to toss the trollop out. She was determined she was not leaving.”

Elizabeth gasped. “How shameless! And his Lordship caught her?”

“Yes, Lord Greenwich heard everything, and he was quite upset, so I do not believe they will be escorting Lady Waltham around England ever again.”

William pushed her to arms’ length, noting that she would not look up at him. “Elizabeth, tell me what are you thinking.”

She stuttered, “I—I can see why a man might desire her. From the short time I was in her company, I realise that she is very beautiful.”

He cupped Elizabeth’s face, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose; then, he ran a thumb over each high cheekbone, as he thoroughly examined her face for some time. Finally, her eyes lifted to his and he smiled, satisfied to have her attention.

“I will admit that she used to be a beauty, but she never possessed that same beauty inside. What I need you to understand is that she was never— in any way —as beautiful as you.”

She dropped her head, sighing with frustration. “Please do not say that, Fitzwilliam. I know that you find me desirable, but I am not beautiful. Mama said that I was passable, but that no man would ever find me beautiful like Jane.”

He tipped her chin up. “Look at me.” Finally, brown eyes, flecked with gold, met his. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, and I intend to tell you that every day for the rest of my life. Please do not ask me to deny what I see ... what I feel. I have not looked at another woman since the day we met and never with the love that is in my heart at this moment. You take my breath away.”

As he spoke, large tears formed and slid from the corners of her eyes. He leaned down to kiss first one, then the other, from her cheek.

“Oh, Fitzwilliam ... my William,” she whispered. “I do not know why you love me, but please, do not ever stop.”

Their lips met with great urgency, and the kiss quickly escalated, neither remembering where they were as they drank deeply from one another. He tried, but could not resist pulling her hips to meet his, to feel her body melt into him. When finally he remembered that a servant could walk in at any moment, he reluctantly broke the kiss, pleased to see both desire and regret in her eyes.

“Come, sweetheart, walk out with me.” Leaning over, he grabbed a serviette and filled it with sweet rolls, before wrapping it and taking her hand. “Now, we are prepared!”

As they departed the dining room, William barely noticed the maids standing near each door. He had no way of knowing that Mrs. Reynolds had entered the room through another entrance and had quickly backed out, pulling the door closed. Discreetly, she stationed a servant to guard each entrance, giving William and Elizabeth their privacy. Only the wide smile on the long-time housekeeper’s face gave the maids any hint as to what might be transpiring between the two people inside, as neither dared to ask.

~~~*~~~

Lost in daydreams, William and Elizabeth walked nearly all the way around the smallest body of water without a word passing between them—simply enjoying being with each other and sampling the wonderful sweet rolls. For his part, William was content to have Elizabeth near. All too clearly, he remembered his despondency after Kent, and how, at that time, it was impossible to imagine anything would ever change—that one day she would forgive him and be living at Pemberley.

Finally, reaching the far side of the pond, a sudden movement in a nearby pasture drew their attention. A small black colt with white stockings was frolicking, running and kicking up his heels. A black mare with the same markings stood nearby, watching her young and when William came into sight, the mare whinnied. This caused him to call out, “Juno!”

Elizabeth laughed as they walked over to the fence, and William pulled a small apple from his pocket. The horse ambled to him, neighing softly, and he fed her the apple.

“Juno? Goddess of Marriage? And do you always have apples in your pockets?”

William rubbed the mare’s head, glancing sideways at Elizabeth as he chuckled. “The answer is ‘yes’ to the first two questions, and I took two apples from the sideboard before you came into the dining room. Here,” he held out the other apple, “it is your turn.”

Elizabeth reached for the fruit and placed it on her palm. As the mare took it, she giggled as the velvety mouth nibbled on her hand. “She is beautiful.” She stroked Juno’s nose as she glanced at William. “Did you name her?”

“Never!” He broke into a broad smile, dimples flashing. “I told Gigi that we would be the laughing stock of Derbyshire if her choice for their names became known. But she insisted on naming Juno as well as Romeo, Juliet, Benedick and Beatrice, who are all around here somewhere.”

Pointing in the direction of a magnificent, black stallion several fences over, he declared, “And that is Romeo, the sire of that little fellow entertaining us so earnestly.” Nodding his head towards the colt, he offered, “His name is Cupid.”

“God of Love?”

William looked sheepish. “If I should ever ride him, I shall be ashamed to call out to him, so it is likely I will resort to a nickname when he is older.”

“Oh, please do not change it,” Elizabeth begged, shyly touching William’s cheek. “I love his name.”

The smile faded, and he sobered as his eyes darkened. Turning into her touch and kissing the palm of her hand, he whispered, “You win. Cupid, it is.”

She stood mesmerized, and though she retracted her hand, neither looked away. The love she felt was plainly evident, and at that moment, William knew he could never refuse her anything. His heart was beating wildly as he tried to continue the conversation. “I suppose now that you are here, Gigi will no longer insist on naming all my foals.”

“Why is that?”

“She hoped that by naming them after symbols of love and marriage, they would bring good fortune to Pemberley.” He brought her hand back to his lips before pulling her into his chest. “And they have. You are a Godsend, Elizabeth, and I am the most fortunate of men.”

Brushing a soft kiss across her mouth, he discerned a whimper. Pulling back, he could not resist what he saw in her expression. Taking her hand he began pulling her towards a small copse. As they passed a large oak, he whirled around, pressing her against the trunk and capturing her mouth in a torrid kiss. When she moaned and arched into him, he shrugged off his coat and feverishly began to unbutton his waistcoat, letting it drop to the ground without quitting the kiss.

His hands slid up from her waist to her breasts and explored their softness. Not satisfied, he pulled her hard against him, away from the tree trunk, which allowed him access to the buttons on back of her gown. He began slowly unbuttoning them. Still lost in the kiss, he pushed the gown off her shoulders, caressing their softness. His shaft immediately hardened, and his resolve not to go this far instantly evaporated.

Need drove them—the need to touch, to possess. As his tongue slipped inside her mouth and she began a duel with her own, he slid a hand inside her décolletage, grasping one soft mound. The feel of her breast in his hand, the nipple hardening against his palm, was his undoing. Immediately, he pushed the gown further down and dipped his head, taking one hard bud into his mouth and running his tongue over and around it, completely absorbed in the pleasure he was experiencing. Her hands were in his hair, pulling him closer as she writhed. First one nipple, then the other, were privy to his kisses, nips, and suckles, until she could bear it no longer.

Sighing softly, she murmured, “Oh, my love, I am terrified that this happiness cannot last. Please make me yours while we have the chance.”

Her pleas brought him back to the present, and he began pressing soft kisses around each dark circle before sighing and pulling her garments back into place. Their breathing was erratic as they came down from the peak of desire, and he leaned in, placing his forehead against hers. Once calmed, he gathered her back into his embrace, while he buttoned her gown. Having completed the task, he whispered into her hair.

“I understand how you feel. I cannot help but think something or someone will take you away from me, but I want you to consider me as your husband, not just your lover, when we consummate our love. I truly believe the vicar to whom I have written will agree to conduct a small commitment ceremony for us.” He kissed her nose. “And despite my inability to restrain myself,” another kiss on her forehead followed, “I want you to know I truly love you ... not just desire you.”

She smiled wanly. “I know that you want to protect me, though I think it is you that needs the protection from me.”

His eyes were serious, concern shining out of their depths. “I look forward to lowering my guard, then.”

After leaning in for another soft kiss, he took a deep breath. “I hate to go to London without you, but I cannot take the chance of having anyone see us travelling together, since you, my dear cousin, are supposed to be recuperating at Pemberley.”

Returning his kiss, Elizabeth murmured against his mouth, “Though, rumour is that your cousin grows stronger and more wanton each day.”

Chuckling, he feathered soft kisses across her cheek, and nuzzled her neck. As she placed kisses in his hair, she sighed. “You have not yet departed, and already I am missing you. Please come back to me as soon as possible. I am only alive when I am in your arms.”

William cupped her face. “And I am only alive in yours. I promise to return as fast as is humanly possible.”

As he pulled her hard against him, another passionate kiss sealed his promise. With a sigh, he pulled her close and held her tenderly. Tomorrow, Richard would come down from York and they would leave for London. This one special moment would have to endure them until his return.

~~~*~~~