Regency love story - part 6

hello,
My lovely Darcy friends invited me to join a flash project for Holidays inspired short stories and '45 days in Europe with Mr. Darcy' has got a follow up!

Yeah, those lovely Darcy and Lizzy are stuck in South Africa very close to Christmas, it's all love and bickering in Portuguese only - so far. I'll post more about the project of this pocket book once it moves along.

Anyway, here, if Elizabeth can't find her way out of an impossible situation, help may reach her...

Love in acts

1^st act

LOVE HURTS

angst, rated M, short, sequel to P&P
previously

PART 6-

‘Oh, my goodness, finally you’ve come!’ Georgiana ran with opened arms to hug her brother and sister, already in quiet sobs. ‘They won’t let me see him; they keep me with the children. I’m too old for the nursery; I understand what’s going on.’

‘Calm down, Gigi.’

‘Oh Fitzwilliam! How could this have happened?’

‘All will be well, Gigi.’

‘Oh Lizzy, are you ill?’ The tall girl’s eyes lost focus with the sad tears. ‘Don’t fall ill too, I beg you!’ She wrapped her arms about Elizabeth muffling the protests.

‘She’s not sick, Gigi. Let her breath, though.’ He tapped his sister’s shoulder with care while holding his wife by her too thin waist. ‘Where is uncle Matlock?’

‘With Richard. They won’t let me in, or the cousins. Only the men and aunt can come in.’

‘We’ll go there directly.’ He announced for the butler who handed their outer garments to a footman and maid, nodded and pointed the way Darcy knew too well, the big old house was familiar to him almost as much as Pemberley. He kept his wife’s hand tucked firmly in the crook of his to give him strength, dreading what he would find.

Once upstairs, the butler knocked on Colonel Fitzwilliam’s door; the nurse opened and on seeing the crowd, took a step back to let Darcy in but shook her head and raised a palm to Elizabeth.

‘Cousin?’ She yelled rising on her toes and craning her neck reaching almost Georgiana’s eyes, in the hopes of seeing anything over the nurse’s shoulder.

‘I’m here!’ Richard answered.

She held the door with her shoulder as the nurse made to close it. ‘Cousin, how are you?’

‘Alive!’

‘Planning to keep that way? Don’t lie.’

‘Yes, Lizzy!’

‘You have always been precise in promise-keeping, can’t change now!’

He chuckled, she heard other tense chuckles and the door opened almost unbalancing her to let lady Matlock get out.

‘My dear Lizzy!’ She hugged Elizabeth’s shoulder. ‘We had to wait almost a week for you to arrive so we could have such needed respite.’

‘He sounds well. Is he?’ She asked worriedly, Georgiana looked expectantly from one adored sister to an adored aunt.

‘As much as possible.’

‘Can’t I see him?’

Lady Matlock looked from her nephew’s wife to her niece. ‘Better not yet.’

Georgiana whimpered. ‘He’s disfigured.’

‘No, my dear.’ She patted Georgiana’s hand. ‘He only needs time and our prayers.’ Lady Matlock sighed. ‘Let us move to my parlor, we can have tea.’ She eyed the butler and he nodded. ‘Send for my daughters as well.’

‘Oh my, this is the most beautiful bonnet of the season, cousin!’ Lady Brakenbury, or simply cousin Margaret, gushed.

Georgiana lowered her cup. ‘The redingote is absolutely divine.’

‘And the tippet, the muff…’ Lady Dorset, in her mama’s parlor simply Claire, touched her cheeks to the thick welcoming fur. ‘Oh, cousin, we will have to be careful not to be seen together because I am surely placing an order for these!’

‘I haven’t seen any of these last time I was in London.’ Margaret hit her hands inside the watermelon sized brownish muff. ‘Tell me where you found these, Lizzy.’

‘It was Fitzwilliam…’ Elizabeth apologized to lady Matlock. ‘I still think it fickle to worry about fashion when facing such a worry, but he sent for the shops. Yesterday I had my parlor in London full when I finished breakfast.’

‘Maybe he merely wanted a distraction.’ Lady Matlock smiled kindly.

‘And instead of fencing at the club, he chose pleasing his wife…’ Claire sniggered.

Elizabeth blushed and shared a conspiratorial glance with Claire. Surprisingly, it was not only Colonel Fitzwilliam who was extremely pleasant company; his three siblings were also very agreeable. Maybe their congeniality surprised Elizabeth so much because she expected variations of Lady Catherine. ‘I wasn’t even sure the modiste would finish the adjustments on the redingote in time.’

‘You are so thin, that’s why the window piece fitted you.’ Claire bit her lip. ‘A husband making an effort to please his too thin wife… I wonder why?’

‘Why?’ Georgiana was instantly worried. ‘He said she was not sick.’

‘She will be in a few weeks…’ Margaret lowered her head to look at Elizabeth through her lashes.

‘Months, sister!’

‘Girls!...’ Lady Matlock admonished her laughing daughters trying hard to contain her own mirth.

‘Why, sister? Will you be ill?’ Georgiana’s large eyes widened.

‘Not ill, Gigi.’ Margaret leaned forward in her seat. ‘But she’ll be in pain.’

‘Oh, dear Lord, that pain. I swore I wouldn’t do it anymore and two years later, bam! Now I’m done. Two boys are enough: he has his heirs already.’ Elizabeth, Margaret and Lady Matlock chuckled. ‘It is. It’s very hard to find wet nannies for more than one babe, you two will see. You laugh, sister, because you only have one.’

‘Dear Lord!’ Georgiana’s cup rattled. ‘You’re with child!’

‘No, no Gigi. I’m not.’ Elizabeth squeezed the girls’ hand.

‘You’re not?’

‘No.’ She sighed and shook her head looking down.

The sisters looked at each other, then at their mother who shook her head discretely but they laughed loud anyway. ‘She’ll be soon!’ They said together as much as they did when little girls and it was impossible to keep a straight face with married ladies of the Court behaving like children.

‘With all these presents...’ Claire winked at Elizabeth.

‘Soon, very soon, Gigi.’ Margaret nodded sighing to calm her laughter.

Elizabeth still looked down, her cheeks so deeply flushed she felt even a little lightheaded.

‘Girls.’ Lady Matlock said. ‘Take Gigi to-’

‘Not to play for the babes!’ Georgiana raised her voice.

‘For a stroll.’ Lady Matlock leaned forward and tapped the girl’s hand. ‘If your sister can be as generous as I know she is, you three can take her muff and tippet for company. I know I’d love to.’

Elizabeth forced a smile. ‘Please, they hate to spend one second not being gushed upon!’

Once the merry trio had left, Lady Matlock patted the seat beside her. ‘Come here, my dear.’ She observed her nephew’s wife figure and she seemed to have lost more weight than her splendid dress gave way. ‘You seem sad.’

‘We’re very worried about cousin’s health, aunt.’

‘All of us are in dire straits; I waited anxiously for Fitzwilliam to improve Richard’s spirits with his company, they had always been very close since babes.’

‘Fitzwilliam was beyond himself when he received the news. We were in Scotland, if he’d been closer, he would have arrived sooner.’

‘Scotland! I say!’ Elizabeth looked at her hands on her lap. ‘What on Earth were you two doing in Scotland? A honeymoon?’ Still Elizabeth kept silent. ‘My dear, calm your heart.’ Lady Matlock took both Elizabeth’s hands in hers. ‘You’ll soon be with child, you two are just starting and at first, it takes patient to… adjust to the bedroom visits.’

Elizabeth’s sigh faltered. ‘It’s not that, aunt Daphne.’

Lady Matlock chuckled. ‘I see… A love match is so very different from a regular marriage.’ She smiled sideways. ‘We have no reason to believe Fitzwilliam have trouble siring-’ She stopped hearing a discreet sob. ‘What is that?’ Elizabeth stood to fetch a handkerchief from her reticule forgotten on the couch she had sat with Georgiana. ‘You may talk to me, Lizzy. I know your mama is far away; my sister is no longer with us and frankly, if she were, she wouldn’t be of much help anyway.’ Lady Matlock muttered. ‘She and her sister were made from the same clay.’

Elizabeth shared a chuckle with the lady who graciously waited until she gathered her courage. ‘I shall not breed a Darcy heir, my lady.’ She turned to the window and the older woman waited. ‘And Fitzwilliam does not have trouble siring. I have proof.’ She stopped to hold in her tears. ‘He had.’ She sobbed. ‘He-’

‘Had a mistress.’ Lady Matlock said calmly. Elizabeth nodded still looking away. ‘Maybe more than one?’

She turned sharply. ‘You knew?’

‘Of course not, good Lord!’ Lady Matlock scoffed. ‘A lady is not interested or moved by this.’

‘I’m surely not a lady, if that is what you’re saying.’ Elizabeth sat heavily on a small chair. ‘I could never be considered for cousin Edward. Oh, what am I saying? I apologize, I’m devastated.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ Elizabeth’s eyes widened, tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘My husband had- paid-’

‘Hired mistresses.’ Lady Matlock calmly sipped her tea. ‘Hired women are less worrisome than paramours. Paramours from the Ton are the worst.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘They tend to think they have the same rights as the legitimate wife, want to attend the same events as we do in the season.’ Her eyes flashed with an irritation Elizabeth hadn’t seen before. ‘You said Fitzwilliam had?’ Elizabeth nodded dazzled. ‘In the past?’ She nodded again. ‘Before your wedding?’

‘He said as much.’

‘Then, it’s settled.’

Elizabeth shook her head slowly.

‘You think I’m cynic, probably? Don’t bother to answer.’ Lady Matlock sipped her tea again and carefully rested it on the side table as if choosing what to say. ‘When Catherine stormed into this house telling us Fitzwilliam insisted to marry an unknown girl without connections whose father’s estate was entailed to her parson, I decided instantly to like you.’ The corner of her mouth raised slightly. ‘But of course, she is right, it was unwise of Fitzwilliam.’ Elizabeth sat up straighter. ‘A lady of the Ton would never shed a tear for that, neither loose her health for a male indiscretion, much less demanded a Scotland honeymoon!’

‘I didn’t demand.’ Elizabeth sniffed. ‘He went after me because he wanted to.’

Lady Matlock gasped. ‘After you?’

‘He refuses to let me go.’ Elizabeth’s shoulders shook. ‘I asked for an annulment. He denied it and went after me.’

‘Annulment! Good Gracious, indeed it was impossible for my son Edward to have chosen you! I’d never permit the future Earl of Matlock tie himself to such a headstrong silly girl!’ Lady Matlock rose angrily. ‘I hate when Catherine is right!’ She stomped very unladylike. ‘You, girl, have no right to give that old crow any reason!’ She pointed at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth’s tears stopped with her amusement.

‘How did you find out?’

Elizabeth blinked.

‘About the mistresses, girl!’

‘He told me.’

Lady Matlock was more appalled with each sentence the sickly thinning silly Elizabeth uttered. ‘How? Why?’

Using few words and being very economic with details, Elizabeth told her about her aunt’s letter, her need for space after the visits and the Gardiners’ help.

‘Dear Lord! I shall send a letter to your aunt immediately; she has to know the damage she created!’ Lady Matlock walked briskly to Elizabeth and held her chin up. ‘You march down my house right now and tell my nephew you were temporarily out of your mind. Go! The boy admitted to you, by his own accord, by gad!’ She let go of Elizabeth’s thin face and put her hands on her hips. ‘That’s why I have no patience for love matches.’

She walked to the door, locked it, opened a side cabinet using a key fetched from a long necklace and took a crystal jug filled with a yellowish cream and two tumblers. She filled both and gave one for Elizabeth. ‘Drink.’ She ordered. ‘All of it at once.’ And she tipped hers tossing her head back, winced and nodded when Elizabeth put it to her lips. But as she simply sipped, the lady pushed it with the tip of her finger until Elizabeth drained it. ‘Good. Another?’

Elizabeth coughed. ‘What is that?’

‘Limoncello .’ Lady Matlock said filling again the tumblers. ‘My maid is Italian. I like it better than brandy. Drink again.’

‘Thank you but I’m not used-’

‘Drink, I say.’ She gave Elizabeth a stern look. ‘With me, go.’

She stored the used glasses in the cabinet and closed it. ‘I’ll have Paola give a bottle to your maid. Tonight, you drink twice as much – four tumblers – to give you courage. Then you put on a very revealing dress and give orders to your maid to tell Fitzwilliam’s valet to tell him to come to you.’ She pointed the key at Elizabeth. ‘You behave and please him and very ardently you convince him it was all silliness of a newlywed.’

‘I wish I could!’ Elizabeth hiccupped. ‘Pardon.’ She poised three fingers to her lips, lady Matlock shook her head. ‘But as much as I enjoy our marital bed, I keep seeing him naked with other-’

‘Stop. Drink five tumblers tonight. You won’t see anything.’ She stashed the key back in her cleavage. ‘You know what would happen if you make Catherine proud, silly girl? I’ll tell you: if Fitzwilliam gave you the annulment, you would be disgraced and he would not only hire other women but would also marry another! You think you imagine him with other women, be sure you will see him with other women, siring babes with another wife.’ Elizabeth gulped, the liqueur rose back to her throat but she swallowed. ‘Ah! Now you are seeing reason… go to your maid. Wash up. Reappear lovely and making us laugh as you always do. Go!’

Wings – Matlock Hall

‘Here, take this. Milady didn’t say how big, and this is as much I can spare without fore notice.’ Paola extended a small embroidered crystal carafe to Ashton. ‘If she thought it necessary to share her secret, I bet she’ll drain her own bottle in no time.’

‘Weren’t you Italian?’

‘Weren’t you French?’

Ashton giggled. ‘I was trained by a diable Parisienne.

‘Ah, the queen of everything proper and fashionable…’

‘And of hosting titled gentlemen late at night.’

They both laughed and Paola held Ashton by the arm guiding her inside the housekeeper’s den. ‘Lady Matlock’s daughters’ maids are busybodies…’ She pressed her eyes looking around them. ‘They are together often, like to gossip too, be careful.’

‘You’ve been with Lady Matlock for long?’

Paola nodded. ‘Five years or so. Since milady sent her old maid away because the chit passed information to his Lordship’s mistress’ maid.’

Ashton gasped, Paola nodded pressing her lips. ‘Mrs. Darcy has not had a fit of purges in weeks. I fear this much booze will send her back to the pit.’

‘You think this is a lot?’ Paola snorted. ‘You have no idea how much Lady Matlock has every week! I have to cook at a trusted tenant’s house so no one knows about it.’

‘Poor Mrs. Darcy… She can hardly rest from annoyances too. Her family, the Bennetts, are a good cause for brandy. I know so; I worked there for her just before the wedding.’ Ashton trembled in disgust. ‘At least they were not aware of our adventure alone in Scotland…’ She babbled and realizing the faux pas, changed subjects. ‘I hope Limoncello helps her, poor thing, I hope she can make good use of this, then.’ She finished pressing her lips and raising her brows.  ‘Is this like brandy?’

‘Sweeter, lighter, ladylike. My grandmamma used to make it for Christmas and I offered it as a gift to her ladyship. She was very sad because of her husband’s indiscretion and I wanted to keep my job.’ Paola shrugged. ‘I remember my grandmamma saying in Italy, when unsatisfied with her husband, a woman would drink Limoncello and go to bed summoning Cupid to soothe her body and mind.’

‘Did it help?’

‘Want to try tonight? I have a small dose for myself.’ They both grinned. ‘My, my… Mr. Darcy is so handsome… I never thought he would be unsatisfying… I know Colonel is not…’ Paola blinked coquettishly.

Ashton gasped. ‘I’d say, with a house full of valets why would a maid give the sons a chance to have fun?’

‘Full of valets?’ Paola shook her head and searched the housekeeper’s den for a towel to wrap the Limoncello bottle. ‘You may enjoy this house full as it is now, because as soon as they decide Richard-’ She bit her lip. ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam will live; his sisters and brother will leave and take their help with them. I say, only Lord’s Dorset’s valet seems to be proper. The others are only good for a tumble.

‘Mr. Darcy’s too.’ Ashton twisted her nose.

‘Well…’

‘Well…’

‘Will he live?’

‘Richard?’ Paola asked and Ashton nodded holding the wrapped carafe as an infant.

‘I believe so. His legs are in pitiable state and may need to be cut off.’ Ashton winced, Paola nodded sadly. ‘But he’ll still be a fully functional man, rich, handsome to a point, second son of a good family.’ She shrugged. ‘If your lady’s purging return with the creamy, let me know and I’ll give you the lighter version. Lady Daphne prefers the creamy because the smell is softer.’ Paola arranged the carafe in Ashton’s hands to hide it better. ‘If lady Daphne says your lady can use the Limoncello’s help, believe her. She is wise.’

---

‘Cousin, will I have the pleasure of breaking bread with the Darcys tonight?’ Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled seeing Darcy all dressed up for dinner entering his room and checking for any company they may have.

‘No, cousin. My lady is still forbidden to enter your room.’

Colonel Fitzwilliam groaned from his bed. ‘Every lady is forbidden, not even Claire and Margaret-’ He grinned. ‘Aside from that nurse but then again, what’s ladylike there?’

Darcy chuckled. ‘Be good, cousin.’

‘Oh, I know this look. What is it? Gossip? Are you sneaking me out for a night ride?’

‘I wish, but with this leg, I wouldn’t dare.’ Darcy still searched the room. ‘Anyone in your chambers?’

‘No. My valet is of no much use anyway, I’m locked here until my leg can grow meat back.’ He shared the same boyish smile. ‘Lock the door anyway; the nurse uses my dressing chamber.’

‘Here, hold this.’ Darcy gave the Colonel Fitzwilliam a small crystal bottle with a small tumbler before walking to lock the said door. ‘Your mama gave my wife this carafe and I might say it is made in heaven!’ He chuckled. ‘Aunt Daphne apparently gave Lizzy order to drink after she retired, but when I entered her chambers to escort her to dinner she was looking so handsome I kissed her and she hiccupped!’ Both men chuckled. ‘And the kiss… lemon. Taste it!’

Colonel Fitzwilliam opened the cork, sniffed, raised his eyebrows and filled a tumbler. ‘Mama has many secrets, doesn’t she?’ He drained it and passed to Darcy.

‘Limoncello, Lizzy said.’ Darcy drank half a tumbler. ‘Have another, I’d better put it back before her maid finds out I took it. And if your nurse shows up, don’t blow in her face!’

After a guffaw, Colonel Fitzwilliam wiggled his brows. ‘It’s quite good… Lighter than brandy… The ladies like it, you say?’

‘My lady loved it.’ Darcy smiled charmingly. ‘Her maid may have not since she had twice the work tonight.’

‘Ah, newlyweds!...’

Darcy’s face hardened and he walked to the window. ‘Your Illness is God sent, cousin.’

‘By all means, cousin! If it’s of your liking, I can drop dead as well.’

Darcy smiled at the window pane looking at his cousin propped upon several pillows reflected on the glass. ‘My wife left me two months ago.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head frowning. ‘The women I hired, it made her insane.’ Darcy turned. ‘Insane with jealousy!’

While Colonel Fitzwilliam drained almost half the liqueur carafe, Darcy told him the despair that took him over, the annulment request, Scotland and how Colonel’s illness brought Elizabeth to his side again.

‘You should name your heir after me! No! After Napoleon!’ Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. ‘Napoleon Darcy. I’ll be his tutor, handsomely paid of course.’

‘Of course!’ Darcy shook his cousin’s hand. ‘I wanted to confide in you when I arrived, but you had a full house.’

‘My brothers usually keep me company. But I suspect they were very relieved to see you arrive; now they can ride very far away from my rotting leg.’

‘Did you consider amputation?’

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded. ‘At the battle field but the surgeons gave me a chance to come home.’ Noise outside the window made Darcy turn. ‘I’ll probably use a can from now on, and trousers. No more breeches. Aunt Catherine will never invite me to Rosings again.’ He faked dismay. ‘Isn’t that sweet?’

‘It won’t stop her to come see you anyway.’ Both men winced. ‘Hurry, give me the carafe. I have to store it and go to my wife before aunt Catherine pounces on her.’

Being denied access to her nephew’s sick bed made Lady Catherine de Bourgh greatly displeased and so she proceeded to make her other nephews just as upset. The former Matlock girls heard icy observations about their ability to sire and raise heirs, Elizabeth for the absence of heirs, Georgiana for having any opinion on married ladies having heirs. The Matlock heir heard about the next heir his wife – left at her parents’ - was about to deliver and how he must provide for his future. The Matlock girls’ husbands and their papa-in-law – all titled men - escaped to a corner leaving Darcy to lend an ear to what-only-God-knew Lady Catherine complained or gave orders about.

Darcy occasionally shared glances with Elizabeth but she looked away before the slow blink. Yes, she loved him ardently and needed him to reassure her but it still felt… foreign. Something he was not entitled to give her.

‘You see Anne, poor thing?’ Lady Matlock asked arriving close to Elizabeth, her tea cup close to her lips.

‘She does look better than last time I saw her…’ Elizabeth said under her breath. ‘She’s almost giving out her secret.’

‘You know she’s not half as sick as her mama believes?’

‘Oh, yes! I saw her playing with the parsonage children once!...’ Elizabeth hid her grin behind her cup.

‘She is quite sassy, isn’t she?’ Lady Matlock asked in a sneer and Elizabeth giggled nodding. ‘Imagine that sassiness in your husband’s bed.’ Elizabeth turned sharply to Lady Matlock splashing tea over her sauce and gasping. ‘When he ‘lets you go’, Catherine will pounce, he will be heartbroken and unable to fight as he did once to marry you. She’ll gloat about having reason; you were unfit for him after all… He’ll have Anne as second wife as not many proper ladies will have a man with an annulment in his past.’ Lady Matlock gloated herself on Elizabeth’s wide eyes turning from Anne to her husband listening stoically to Lady Catherine fill his ears. ‘Catherine will then insist on heirs, Anne will undoubtedly be able to sire one, two, three…’

‘That’s enough, my lady.’

‘I love when I can help young people see reason…’ Lady Matlock sighed. ‘Did your maid give you the Limoncello?’

‘Yes. I already used it.’

‘Really?’ She raised her eyebrows surprised, her lips curling at the corners.

Still shaking with despair, Elizabeth nodded. ‘Fitzwilliam also enjoyed the…’

‘Tartness?’ She asked and Elizabeth nodded. ‘Good. Let Paola know if you need more, my dear.’ She smiled and caressed Elizabeth’s chin before walking away. Charmingly, she crossed the room disguising the conceited smile on her lips. ‘Catherine, Maurice wants to explain to you in details how he managed to bring our son back in the middle of war.’ Lady Matlock sighed exaggeratedly. ‘What an ordeal!’

‘Indeed, that boy was always wild. I advised you repeatedly how to tame him but you never listened-’

‘Go, dear. Talk to him so he can explain everything.’

Darcy sighed deeply. ‘Aunt Daphne, that was a dirty move, uncle Maurice probably didn’t deserve.’ He said quietly. ‘But I thank you, my lady.’ Gallantly he took her hand to place a kiss.

‘I accept your gratitude, boy, but this is not enough.’ Lady Matlock hooked her hand on the crook of his arm and gently urged him towards the other side of the library where the Matlocks served tea after dinner when the house was full of guests. ‘You know that exuberant muff your wife wore today?’ He nodded frowning. ‘Can it be made in white?’

‘I believe so. Or else there was a polar bear cub in her sitting room yesterday.’

‘Oh!’ Her hand shot to her bosom. ‘Was it that big?’

He nodded curiously. ‘Almost as big as my wife, she could pull it by a leash; fortunately she chose the castor one.’ He used a funny intonation for the color name. ‘Why?’

‘And a matching tippet?’ He shrugged. ‘Send for it, my boy. First thing tomorrow.’

‘For you, aunt? Of course, but why? Will you shield me and my wife from aunt Catherine forever?’

She smiled devilishly. ‘See your wife looking at Anne?’

Darcy tilted his head to the side and frowned deeper. Although surrounded by smiling Claire and Margaret, Elizabeth looked haunted; her fine eyes intent on Anne wanly sipping her tea.

‘Poor thing, what may be going through her head, I wonder…’ He looked sharply at his aunt and she nodded still smiling. ‘I could wager my new muff and tippet she is picturing you brokenhearted after the stupid annulment-’ He straightened up surprised his aunt knew about it. ‘Being forced to marry Anne out of duty. How your new mama would demand heirs and well, you can calculate the rest, you know your Lizzy.’ Darcy grinned and leaned down to kiss his aunt but she raised a hand to stop him. ‘Discretion, boy. You had the ability to find the most headstrong girl in all England, now you have to learn how to deal with her. Soothe and control her, identify what has importance for her. Your money obviously doesn’t or else she would be gushing about that marvelous muff.’ He nodded, he had already arrived to that conclusion. ‘She loves you completely; enough to overcome her hurt pride.’

‘Jealousy.’ He said smiling big.

‘Wipe that smile off your face. Play the part. Let her come to you.’ She commanded and he nodded. ‘And keep my Limoncello secret!’

---

tumblr

continue reading


update: 

a revised & extended version of this story will be available on Kindle Unlimited from Jan 25th, 17.

Regency love story - part 5

hello,
I'm taking part on a very interesting on line course about Pride and Prejudice - can you imagine how much I'm enjoying having a plausible excuse to talk about P&P? I'm on cloud 9!
Last week I was asked to compare Darcy and Collins - I have never thought about such a comparison!
This week we compared Lady Catherine and Mrs Gardiner - also I never considered comparing these two ladies... There's so much more in P&P than my humble mind can spot!
A lot, it seems. (ha!)

Also, I'm learning a lot on Regency and this story I'm posting here will be severely revised in the future but I'm also glad to confirm that some of the plots I came up with for this Regency trilogy do make sense.

Anyway, let us move on with this situation Elizabeth can't find her way out.

Love in acts

1^st act

LOVE HURTS

angst, rated M, short, sequel to P&P
previously

PART 5-

He paced the inn’s parlor in suspended expectancy. Something had to be done to solve this situation, and it would have to be done that day. Her solicitor entered, held the door and she came in, lovely and sad and thin.

He bowed. ‘Good morning, sir. My love.’

She sighed, the solicitor bowed back. ‘Good morning, sir. I brought Miss Bennett with me as you required -’ He gesticulated at Elizabeth seated on the corner quietly while Darcy touched his knuckles to his lips to refrain from protesting against the use of her maiden name ‘–to witness the settlement’s negotiations.’

‘Very well.’ His eyes rarely averted from her still form.

‘The lady wishes to cause no difficulties for you, provided you agree to an annual allowance, a London house that need not be Darcy house, can be another of the same consequence–‘ He paused and she nodded ‘-a small property for her parents, and the lady will retire to the South of Italy to start a small business of ladies’ items. You will not be bored by her any longer.

He nodded, she blinked sadly, the solicitor nodded happy that this time he wouldn’t be attacked and there was silence.

‘I wish a private interview with my wife.’ He demanded and she pressed her lips. ‘She still is my wife.’ He raised his imposing voice.

She nodded for the solicitor and the man left promising to remain by the door in case she needed him.

‘Italy?’ He asked as soon as they were left alone.

‘Is it far enough?’

He shook his head; she widened her fine sad eyes. ‘I would go to you without much trouble.’

Her shoulders slumped. ‘Let me go.’

‘Let my past go. Send it far away.’ He offered, she frowned. ‘Name the place: West Indies, the Colonies, the New World. Whatever you decide, I’ll agree.’

‘That’s what you meant… I don’t want to meddle with any of them.’

‘Yet you visited, to further hurt yourself.’ His eyes bored into her.

‘That reminds me.’ She opened her reticule and extended him two cards, the ones his mistress had given her. He stretched his hand and took them, frowned on what was written and his face paled.

‘You were with child, then.’ He roared, she shook her head. ‘You last claimed your indisposition the week we arrived at Pemberley, months ago.’

She nodded grieved for having had their overwhelming intimacy broken on that fateful day when he admitted his pernicious practices as normal. ‘I bled on the road, the first night I spent away from Pemberley.’ He felt his heart bleed too, for he had still been hopeful. ‘My aunt thinks it was my being so busy with the house and you; my body was playing tricks on me. It happens, she said.’ Her eyes roamed the room, his boots, his legs, the table at the other side of the room; but never fixed on his face. ‘You were truthful to me; I can only give you the same treatment, Fitzwilliam. I was equally sad and relieved when my courses arrived symbolically the night I left your domains.’ She paused for a ragged sigh. ‘When that crippling nausea hit me at dinner with your cousin, I thought it was a child, but how could it have chosen that day to let me know it was coming? Why not the day before when I was so deliriously happy?’ She risked a glance at his eyes and saw reflected her own torment. ‘Later when I had that first fit in your arms, I was sure it wasn't love growing inside me, a love child couldn't open a hollow in my chest with every heave.’ She paused, he stared out the window. ‘Your… ladylove scribed these cards for me; she said it would be my key to freedom. A nurse to take measures and a solicitor. How… practical of her, isn’t it?’

He pressed his teeth together with so much force his bones jumped against his skin. The year settlement he arranged for Miss Trent would be curt immediately and she would surely be sent to the New World.

Elizabeth sighed. ‘I came here for nothing; you just wanted to waste my time.’

‘Absolutely, I have a proposition.’ He said suddenly as if breaking from a spell, she blinked. ‘I can’t erase my past, neither would want to. What I want is my life back with you by my side, in my house, in my bed.’

‘No. I said I can’t deal-‘

‘Wait.’ He pulled a chair and seated in front of her, his legs opened on either side of her clasped knees. ‘I offer my hand again, this time you accept me with your eyes opened. First time you were polluted by a cad; second time we were in love; now we know how our life can be good, our faults, where we need to make an effort. You can send my past as far as you want.’

She took air to answer but the door opened, he looked at the delivery boy with rage and it took anyone with sense but a few moments to leave.

‘Sir…’ The boy trembled. ‘It’s an urgent delivery.’ He extended a shaking hand.

‘Later.’

‘Sir, I was sent from London to deliver this post haste.’

‘Take it. The boy is here.’ She looked away, actually glad for the chance to break free from the power of his gaze on her.

He rose, took the letter, tipped the boy and broke the seal. In a moment he was livid. ‘Love…’ He tried to speak but his voice faltered, he turned the letter trembling and found the date. ‘More than a week ago, they probably didn’t know where I was…’

‘What is it, Fitzwilliam? You look very ill.’ She was on her feet the moment the dreadful idea occurred to her. ‘Georgiana?’ She held his wrist and he shook his head, eyes wide perusing the letter, face livid. ‘My family? Jane?’

‘Fitz.’ He whispered, she covered her mouth with a gloved hand and tightened her hold on his wrist. ‘Injured in battle, he is being brought back to England.’

‘Good Gracious. More than a week! He may already be in London.’ A shudder passed through her and reached him. ‘Go! Go now.’

‘I can’t.’ He blinked slowly and turned his eyes to her. ‘What if he-’

‘No! don’t think about it.’

He looked at her dainty hand on his arm: that was what was keeping him warm. She was in mourning, though. ‘Come with me, you like him as much as I do.’

She shook he head and took a step away.  ‘Not as much as you do, he is your family.’

He reached out for her and brought her to his chest, this time she hugged him back. ‘He is, you are. Come with me.’ His eyes filled with tears. ‘Help me.’

She looked up fearing he was crying and on finding that he indeed was, her eyes misted too. ‘He is merely injured, you’ll see. Take my coach; it’s smaller and faster than yours. Go now.’

‘Come with me, my lady.’ A tear rolled down his cheek. ‘Please.’

---

Her maid had all of two hours to pack whatever Elizabeth had in Scotland and they departed with their hearts perilously bleeding. His cousin was badly injured, may not resist the crossing, but at least his wife was with him even if not back to him, yet. In a way, the agony patched their marriage.

She was in a carriage with him again, but this time there wouldn’t be any exploration or giggling. His cousin may as well be dead, as much as her marriage. She ached for him, for that afternoon of impromptu lovemaking in his study straddling his lap brazenly and instigating his libido until he touched her. She ached to love and be loved in return.

‘You didn’t bid farewell to your beau.’

She looked from the window to him. ‘Mr. Neville?’ He nodded. ‘I left him a thick letter apologizing and explaining my heart.’ His eyebrows rose and his lips pressed, she sneered. He let his lips crawl up at the corners as her fine eyes smiled returning to the window.

They stopped to change horses and rest and for those few minutes he took extremely care of her offering refreshments or explaining the landscaping but soon they were en route again.

‘We’ll make it to the border in three days.’ He said examining his pocket watch.

‘Faster than when I came.’

He nodded. ‘We have to make haste. I sent order to hold any letters at the last post in England. May God permit to be good news.’

‘Amen.’ She whispered and returned her eyes to the window. Suddenly she sat up straight as if she had been bitten by a snake.

He was instantly alert. ‘Lizzy?’

‘Georgiana. Is she still at-’

‘Matlock.’

‘Oh goodness, she must know about all this, poor girl. She’s in the heart of the maelstrom, Fitzwilliam.’ She watched the freight take him over. ‘She’ll be ill again.’ He swallowed. ‘Oh, Fitzwilliam…’ Elizabeth changed seats to hug his neck. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He hugged her back. ‘And so worried.’

He buried his nose in her neck and kept her close for as long as she allowed him, his whole body vibrating with longing and worry. ‘You are very thin, my Lizzy.’ He whispered in her ear giving her the chills. ‘After we see to Fitz and Georgiana, we’ll take care of your health.’

‘Never mind me, worry about your family.’

‘That’s what I’m planning.’

---

At the inn, she retired to her room to rest and dine alone with the help of her maid. Restless, Elizabeth stood at the mansard behind the closed window watching the moon praying that Colonel Fitzwilliam was alive and on his way to recovery but it didn’t bode well. There was also Georgiana and her nerves, the Matlocks... And there was her marriage, his mistresses and children.

The man himself appeared on the courtyard pacing nervously, she need not open the window to recognize him. His imposing figure, the regal way he carried himself made it impossible for her to resist admiring – the  sad truth was that she loved him too much to bear. While she pined for him, he stopped by a corner, leaned on a tree and hid his eyes in his fingers. Without thinking, she opened the window and called out; he looked up and averted his eyes quickly while his fingers searched for his handkerchief in his waistcoat’s pocket. When he looked up again after dabbing his eyes, she was practically climbing out. In an unspoken communication, he went to her.

She was at her door waiting for him to climb the stairs. As she extended her hand, he made haste and took her in his arms closing the door behind them.

Wings – Road Inn

‘This inn is improper for Mrs. Darcy.’ Ashton’s pretty nose wrinkled. ‘Even with her own linens and towels, this is filthy.

‘Didn’t you stop here when you came?’ Rodgers asked raising one eyebrow before spooning food in his mouth.

She shook her head in a disgusted little movement making her small curls bounce. ‘We came by the other route. Mrs. Darcy wanted to fetch Mrs. Neville from relatives as Mrs. Collins asked.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded. ‘Eat.’ He pointed at her plate. ‘It’s actually good.’

‘I had soup with the mistress.’

‘This is better. Meat will help you endure the rest of the journey.’

‘I doubt. I have a delicate organism.’

He eyed her for long moments. ‘You’re not talking so much… calmer?’

‘Oh, yes. Mrs. Darcy is with Mr. Darcy now; we’re traveling comme il faut.’

‘I have to go soon, he’ll need me.’ Rodgers spooned more food in his mouth and Ashton cringed in disgust.

‘Don’t bother to hurry, he’ll be with her for a while.’

He squinted. This pretty girl thought she knew his master better than he did, huh?

‘I know her, she is terrified. Has been since we left Pemberley. She is stubborn, refuse to admit  to be intimidated but doesn’t block fear. He makes her feel safe.’

‘A week ago you said he made her fall sick.’

‘That too.’ Ashton giggled and Rodgers shook his head. ‘It’s just that she…’ He waited and Ashton bit her lip. ‘She…’

‘She?’

‘Never mind.’ She sighed, sipped her ale, cringed again and watched the man eat like a mongrel. It was common for a lady’s maid to wed the master’s valet but Rodgers was so very different when far from Mr. Darcy.

Handsome, thin, polite when he chose to, imposing… Maybe a tumble, but no more than that!

---

‘All will be well.’ He nodded hearing her sweet whisper, his nose in her hair tied with a simple ribbon on the back of her neck. ‘Fitz is a strong man, a good soldier. Have faith.’ He sniffed, her heart broke. Elizabeth looked up at Darcy and tried to press a sad excuse for a smile. ‘Wash your face and take off your coat, rest a while here.’ He gladly did and more gladly yet saw her small fingers open his waist coast and free his shirt from his breeches, something he always enjoyed.

It felt like a dream to see her undress him like she did in the evenings after dinner to help him relax with her reading a book until their desire made them search their bed, what they did at that moment and laid side by side even if she was under the covers and he over them. ‘I apologize for this inn.’

‘I don’t care. I want to arrive soon.’

‘Me too.’ They gazed into each other’s eyes. ‘I missed you in my bed.’ She closed her eyes, her face in pain. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ She blinked trying to see his dear face in the feeble candlelight. ‘Too much to share. Don’t be so proud, my-’ She bit her lip. ‘Forget about pride, Fitzwilliam, let me go.’

‘What pride do I have left, Lizzy?  For two months you have been mincing me.’

‘Somehow you never realize you destroy my pride with your actions and words; the way you destroy me... Those children, that woman insinuating I keep you from her.’ She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the nausea growing inside her.

‘You shouldn’t have searched for any of them. It had been months since I had any inclination to visit anyone. And that first proposal you still think so offending, was merely my deepest concerns. Wait.’ He touched her lips to stop her. ‘If you were from my stance, you wouldn’t be so shocked about this whole affair.’

‘I’d be cynic enough to think it normal.’

‘Yes. And that was probably why I wouldn’t have thought twice of you because it was exactly what I despised in a woman, such as Caroline Bingley you so generously offered me.’ She snorted, he caressed her nose with the back of a finger enjoying the simple pleasure of having her in bed with him. Stupidly he had taken it for granted since the wedding night. ‘Let’s rest, we need it.’

Albeit their hearts also needed the proximity of being side by side in bed and hold hands helped calm their fear, for her it didn’t feel right.

---

The more they traveled, the more their hearts suffered. When he sent order to hold any letters in the last English post, he wanted to avoid missing any important news but not receiving anything put them deeper in desperation. 

Both soothing and upsetting were the nights spent in Scottish inns. She loved him in spite of herself, of anything - she had learned to love him with all her being after the complicated courtship, refusal, family falling, his heroic efforts to save their name and his bewitching constancy. Loving him that much meant she would never let him spend a night alone dwelling on dark imaginings for his favorite cousin.

He loved her more than he thought himself capable of ever loving a wife. Having been prepared to choose any handsome lady from the Ton, he was surprised by Elizabeth’s wit, her intelligence, the spark in her eyes that ignited him. To Darcy, with each married morning she looked more handsome, more enchanting until that fateful day... Well, marriage was supposed to enclose sickness and health, richness and thriving times, they both sworn this in front of a minister with her sister and Bingley. Only he had never thought the sickness and thriving would come within the first six months.

His aunt, may Heavens bless her, had obnoxiously warned him about marrying off his stance, about this particular lovely headstrong girl but he was sure it was her he wanted to be his life companion. Still was, actually.

She was indeed headstrong and at the moment, her problem was loving him too much to be able to share. He chuckled to himself. She didn't want to share him. So handsome sleeping beside him in bed, her long dark lashes kissing her thin cheeks, the dying candle flickered giving her an even more charming aura. He leaned forward and placed a feather-like kiss on her closed eyelid; she grumbled, stirred and turned her back to him. With a half-smile, he laid his head on her pillow and closed his eyes inhaling her weak perfume of rose water.

Yes, he had chosen right, she was the woman for him. A lady from the Ton would possibly expect him to keep mistresses to make his visits to her chambers scarce and businesslike. She would also choose to take cicibei herself... The thought of his Lizzy in other man's hands killed him inside… that Neville cad wanted to court her, the gall!

Once this was all over, for he was sure things would return to normal, he would have to address the matter with her uncle. It was unacceptable of him to help her find and visit the women who serviced him. It degraded her; she should have been shielded from herself!

He opened his eyes and flexed his fingers to keep from caressing her sinuous silhouette. His lady, so lovely, loved him this much...

And who needed him as much as he needed her.

---

By the time they arrived at the first post in England, there were several letters for ‘Darcy’ and ‘Bennett’. She read half, he read half and aside from several matters concerning his estate, the ones concerning Colonel Fitzwilliam were either prior to the one that reached him or saying the same: he was on his way crossing the Channel and everyone was worried. To feed the hope still carrying them, there was a letter from Bingley announcing Jane was with child and for her one from Aunt Gardiner containing several from her sisters and mother saying jolly silly nothings.

That night, the third sleeping together, she raised the covers and he laid close to her.

‘All will be well.’

‘You repeat this, it gives me hope.’ He blinked slowly. “I love you ardently”, it meant. ‘Can you please stop with the mourning dresses? Those give me the worst ideas.’

‘I’m sorry but my trunks never arrived and my aunt had all those mourning dresses from her papa’s passing and…’

‘I held your trunks; I wanted you to come get them.’

‘Ah…’ She bit her lip. ‘I wouldn’t wear anything in those anyway… My clothes are fashionable now.’

‘They compliment your handsomeness.’

‘But they call attention.’

‘Especially from men.’ She nodded. ‘You’re with me now, it’s safe to use what you have with you.’

‘I’ll see what can be arranged in the trunk we’re carrying.’

‘Use my shirts, but please, don’t use mourning while we hope he’ll live.’

She contained a heave. ‘I’m sorry.’

They made love in silent long glances.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

The next day she wore the lovely yellow simple day dress with her heavy travelling coat over it. Usually it'd be a dress to wear at Pemberley when her husband would spend the day out and although simple, it was three notches more fashionable then her best strolling dress from before her marriage. Still, she felt self-conscious of his appreciative stare on her figure and cleavage; he probably never saw that dress before. Would he think she indulged in modistes and purchases while away from him? Would he compare her with the woman similar to her who he paid to please him? She was thinner and... And...

Her maid arrived in a hurry. ‘Your bonnet, madam. Let me tie the ribbons for you.’

Darcy stretched his hand to her maid. ‘Allow me, Ashton.’

Elizabeth felt a tremble run through her.

---

At Darcy house in London three days later, his secretary already had news that Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived alive but suffering and was taken to Matlock hall. Arrangements had already been made for the Darcys to leave in a day or two.

‘Ah! My dresses!... I thought I wouldn’t miss them, but I did. How fickle of me...’ Elizabeth uttered with dismay in her dressing chamber to the chuckles of her maid and the housekeeper.

Darcy smiled at the other side of the door. Of course it was ridiculous for the master to lurk and eavesdrop but, intending on a bath after the long journey and the heartbreaking months, once in his dressing chamber that was connected to hers, he heard her voice. His wife was finally home with him; he had barely started to get used to having her when she fled. They wouldn't stay in London long enough to order several new gowns to make her decision of leaving them behind harder, but his secretary was downstairs waiting for him; he'd give the man orders to send for the best pelisses and bonnets in the city so when she woke up, there'd be a warehouse at her disposal for her to choose whatever she wanted.

They dined sharing halted conversation for she felt awkward to be back at Darcy house while he patiently gave her time to return to him. He also anticipated with delight the moment she would invite him to her bed, the first Darcy bed they ever shared.

That evening, before he went down to dinner, he had tried the door between their bedchambers wanting to surprise her with his gallantry of escorting her downstairs, but had frustratingly found it closed. If it had been different, he would have gone to her immediately after she retired. He chose the library as a secluded place to build courage to try again, and there Darcy looked out the window to the streets thinking about nothing for hours, remembering all the times Fitzwilliam was with him in that house before or after one or another ball when they escaped the matchmaking mamas, chuckling and planning that when they decided to marry, the woman would be this way and that.

His escaped him and locked her bedchamber door barely half a year into their marriage.

He sipped his brandy, a hackney passed by and her delectable small form appeared silently beside him making his whole body vibrate.

‘Go rest.’ She said. ‘We’ll have a full day tomorrow before parting early the day after.’

‘Was waiting an invitation to arrive.’ She gasped and took a step back wide-eyed. ‘From you!’ He added hastily. ‘Your door was locked.’ He explained but she was still in shock, clearly suspicious of his intentions. ‘I wonder what would it take to convince you that I don't want anyone else!’

Until she realized he spoke rhetorically, Elizabeth was silent for long torturous moments. ‘It was Ashton.’ She whispered. ‘Ashton locked the door, I didn’t ask for it.’ She was lovely, he thought, still dressed for dinner but already free of her gloves. ‘I miss our bed.’

‘Not more than me.’ He offered her the last drops of his brandy and she took it.

‘To Colonel Fitzwilliam.’

‘To us all.’

She drank, winced, her cheeks reddened, she swallowed several times to tame the lingering afterglow on her tongue. ‘The way you put it's very easy to believe me a child throwing a tantrum.’ He pressed his lips, she sputtered and put the tumbler at the small table by the window with more force than she meant. ‘You believe I'm being childish, don't you?’

He would much rather have her angry than sad or - God forbid - indifferent. ‘You are unwilling to share your toys...’

She balled her hands at her sides, her husband smiled sideways and a groan escaped her throat as realization reached her. ‘You're amused...’

He shook his head. ‘Flattered.’ That got her by surprise. ‘I'm a precious toy you refuse to share.’

‘You're used goods, Fitzwilliam.’ She tried to be spiteful. ‘I don't want hand-me-downs.’

He laughed. ‘You can't return me.’

‘I'm trying. My solicitor said I have a fair chance to succeed.’

‘You don't, my love. These lowlife lawyers are specializing in taking money from proud ladies when they well know it's impossible to achieve what they want. These bastards should be hung for feeding off someone's hope.’ Darcy secretly planned to hunt down the ones who did this to his lady and have them sent to the New World, if not further.

‘My solicitor also said you'd say that.’

‘Of course, I love you, I will never mislead you.’

‘Except you did.’ She challenged him.

‘I didn't. I have told you the truth when you asked for it. I severed all ties to soothe you, I-’

‘You cannot severe ties to your children.’

‘My children will come from your body.’

She opened her mouth to speak but closed feeling frustrated and confused. ‘Still they came from you.’

‘I could tell you I was squeezed to the marrow, but I already showed you how it works.’

In spite of herself, she laughed. ‘Cad!’ He laughed with her. ‘You hired them to offer you a service!’

‘It was not breeding.’

‘Right!’ She snorted. ‘That is my job.’ She turned and looked out the window.

‘I didn’t hire you, I married you.’ He explained calmly but inside he was hot as lava with her arguments. ‘If I wanted to hire you, I wouldn’t have chased Wickham. Your sister had already made it easy.’

She gasped and hugging her chest turned her back to him.

‘You know I did it all for you.’

‘When I breed a male heir, what will you do? Return to mistresses?’

He sighed. She waited.

‘I expect that to happen in... Twenty years or so.’

‘What?’ She turned sharply to face him.

‘You are tightening my leash because of something I did before you accepted me, actually before I proposed to you for the first time. With my luck you'll produce one little Elizabeth after another and by the time a boy comes out, I'll be bed ridden because you and your daughters will have destroyed me already.’ She gasped again and he laughed loud.

She was in his house again, drinking brandy with him, sparring. It took all of him not to lay her on the couch.

She sputtered and wanted to protest but no words came out, he tried to contain his mirth and it infuriated her more. She stomped once and turned to leave but he held her by the waist and easily lifted her off the floor, her back to his chest. ‘Let me go, cad!’

He touched his sprawled hand to her belly. ‘My girls will come from here, heaven help me.’ He laughed.

She stopped struggling and waited him to calm his laughter. ‘You know what is rather funny?’ He didn't answer thinking nothing good was coming. ‘Time and time again you hurt my pride to sooth yours.’

‘You're mistaken.’

‘Am not.’

‘You are, my lady.’ He touched his nose to her neck, her coifed hair caressing his forehead. ‘To prove, as soon as it's safe, I'm taking you to Italy so you can see where your shop will be.’ She froze. ‘I'll be there with you for a while so you can see if a shop would be respectable enough for such a handsome lady. I'll let you buy one, and run it for a while, and then we'll talk.’

She easily left the imprisonment of his arms. ‘That would be only when Napoleon is vanquished.’

‘Until then, you stay right here.’

‘Is this a deal you're proposing?’

He offered his hand and she shook it.

‘Deal.’

She had the time her maid took to prepare her for bed to think things over.

Her heart thumping on her ear, she knocked on her husband's dressing chamber's door. Darcy house was smaller than Pemberley, of course, and between the master and mistress's dressing chambers there was only a small service chamber. Standing there, fidgeting with the small candle holder she held, Elizabeth considered the wiseness of curiosity and impatience. She could have waited until the morrow, but that would mean leaving him alone at night when the visions of a crippled and marred Colonel Fitzwilliam corroded him.

‘Yes?’ Rodgers said impatiently at the door. ‘Oh, ma'am.’ He bowed averting his eyes to the floor immediately.

‘Good evening, Mr. Rodgers.’

‘Leave, Rodgers.’ His heart skipped a beat. She came to him. What a relief!

‘I'll come back in a hour to help-’

‘No need. You may retire.’ Darcy ordered.

‘I'll help if he needs, Mr. Rodgers.’

The man left without looking up and she walked slowly inside.

‘My lady?’

‘Do I bother?’ She rested the small candle holder over his dresser, beside the big one shining bright.

‘Absolutely.’ He smiled easing the cravat from his neck. ‘You’re always welcomed.’

She wriggled her hands looking away from him already barefoot, waistcoat opened, taking off his cravat… ‘I was wondering what the terms are.’ He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. ‘Our deal, what terms it entails. I supposed you’d want me to… visit you.’

‘I’d love for you to visit me, my love, but there are no terms.’

‘No terms!’ He shook his head calmly taking off his waistcoat, her mind rolling in high speed. ‘So this is just… just… You are just humoring me.’ She felt dumb. ‘You never meant to let me go.’

‘I never said anything about letting you go.’

‘But what about Italy?’

‘I meant it.’

‘But you said-’

‘I’m taking you to Italy as soon as we can, it’s a lovely place, you’ll like it. It’s sunny and you can bathe in the sea.’

‘Oh!’ Her eyes shone. ‘That would be lovely…’ She smiled. ‘And my shop?’

‘Where did this shop idea came from?’ He frowned.

‘London. Meryton. Lambton.’ She shrugged and moved to help him free his shirt from his breeches while he laboriously opened his cufflinks. ‘A milliners is always bound to attract women.’

‘Not if it belongs to a fallen woman.’ She gasped. ‘No respectable lady would even pass by the front window.’

‘I would.’ She pouted. ‘If the items were to my liking.’

‘You are different from most of the ladies in the world, love. I never heard of a gentleman’s wife helping her husband prepare for bed.’

‘You’d rather I leave?’ He shook his head. Even so, she took a step back and leaned on the window sill. ‘Maybe I’m not respectable enough.’ She mused. ‘Not in the expected way.’

‘No, you’re nothing expectable at all.’ She snorted. ‘You help me undress – good God how I love that; you fancy your long walks, speak your mind and challenge everything… Only you could have gone after those women.’

‘My uncle wanted to go with me.’

‘He told me.’ He opened his shirt, his eyes trained on her loveliness inside an almost sheer nightgown outlined by the moon coming from outside. ‘He should have convinced you not to go.’

‘I had to.’ She whispered. ‘I could only think of you and their beds-’

‘Enough.’ He ordered raising his voice, his eyes shut.

It was the thing she wanted most in the world, to have enough of that disgrace and put it behind her. Behind them.

There was silence, he took off his shirt and opened his breeches before reaching for his nightgown. As he tried to get it passed his head, she moved closer and gingerly helped him maneuver the fabric. ‘My aunt said her parents shared only one bed.’ Elizabeth said in a half voice. ‘They were in trade in Lambton, didn’t have a big house.’

‘Gloves and leather goods. I knew them.’

She nodded arranging the collar, her negligée opening as she helped him. ‘My aunt uses her bed only when she’s indisposed or when in her courses.’ She said and waited. He also waited hoping she’d say what his body hoped she meant, but his silence weakened her. ‘I came here today to ask you the terms to our deal… if I’d have to use your bed often.’

‘You considered your husband would force you?’

‘No!...’ She shook her head, fine eyes wide. ‘I know you would never-‘

‘I would never make demands. Is that it?’

‘Well, yes…’

‘Me, who always humor you?’

‘I thought you wanted me to.’

‘I crave it.’ He let the breeches fall to the floor and kicked it far from him. ‘But I’m still waiting for an invitation.’ She swallowed. ‘I don’t have to force you, Lizzy, I can seduce you. I know how, as you bloody well know how to seduce me. We’re both tied waiting for invitations, though.’

She wanted him with all her being, deep down she knew it was not for his sick cousin she accepted to return with him. ‘We should get some sleep.’ Were the words she found courage to say. ‘We’ve been travelling for more than a week, I’m exhausted.’

‘Me too.’ He said realizing it wasn’t that the night they would be a couple again.

In the middle of the night she turned and sleepily searched for the narrow south window overlooking the valley from where came a cold weak wind. For almost a month in Scotland, it was this wind blowing around dawn that woke her up. Instead, it was warm and even… noisy. There were busy voices and coaches somewhere far. She sat up in surprise and turned to one side and the other not recognizing where she was and like a child, she whimpered.

‘Lizzy?’ He sat up as well, she shouted and he hugged her close. ‘What is it?’ He asked ready to defend her.

‘Fitzwilliam?’

‘What is it?’

‘Oh my goodness.’ She sighed. ‘I woke up disoriented, didn’t remember where I was.’

‘At home, in my bed, in London.’

‘I didn’t see you.’ She panted. ‘Didn’t feel you close.’

‘I must have rolled to one side.’ He kissed her forehead as she nodded making his lips also brush the bridge of her small nose.

‘I was scared.’

‘I’m here.’ He kissed the tip of her nose, the side, the corner of her mouth.

His arms still around her, still sleepy and disoriented, she wanted to move but miscalculated and her hand rested over his lap instead of the bed. She retracted gasping; he groaned in delight, she felt her insides awake. His lips found hers and she opened to let his tongue lick and invade. Soon she was on her back with him on top, her hand raising his and her nightgown so her legs could encircle him.

‘Undress.’ He ordered. She complied taking her nightgown off first, than his. Fingers went immediately to nipples and she arched her back. When his organ touched her wet curls, he trembled, she melted. It had been weeks for both of them, weeks of agony and denial made worse by the estrangement and uncertainty.

Once connected, nothing could make them stop except… He maneuvered her leg over the crook of his arm and on his side, thrust deeper until he could feel his shaft touching her core. He groaned and repeated again and again making her open her eyes and see in him something she had never seen before.

‘Who taught you that?’ She whispered.

He opened his eyes and in the semi darkness of the dying hearth, stared seeing though her face, too overwhelmed by her tightness to think straight.

‘Did you do this to the other-’

‘I forbid you.’ He bellowed making her jump, eyes wide. ‘I forbid you to ever bring anyone else to our bed.’ He let go of her leg and got to his knees, shaken and frustrated, almost withdrawing completely. ‘Deuce!’

She ran a hand angrily on her left eye to clean the stupid tear that escaped. He wouldn’t see her cry naked and open legged, that would be too big a shame. Preparing to leave his bed, she scooted back but as he felt her move, he grabbed her hips.

There was a silent war under the weak light until she held him by the arms and brought him to her. He moved a millimeter, she pulled him again. Soon they were back in the motions, he kept on his knees, she rose on her arms behind her. The view favored both of them making their first love session since the fight unmistakably sweet.

‘Never ever do that again.’ He panted hugging her after they were finished.

She nodded.

‘I forbid you.’

‘Me too. But I dread what’s in your head when we’re in bed, I can’t control what you think or remember.’

Impatient and frustrated again, worried about how thin his wife was, he groaned loud and ferociously. ‘Yes, you do control. You control what’s in here–‘ He touched her hand to the bed. ‘In here–‘ To his hair. ‘And here as well.’ To his deflating organ. ‘There isn’t space for anyone else.’

Oh how much she wanted to be sure of that…

---

continue reading

update: 

a revised & extended version of this story will be available on Kindle Unlimited from Jan 25th, 17.