Her Voice of Reason Page 13

  Darcy had loved her once, opening his heart to her. Since the situation with Mr. Coleman, when she had revealed the truth about her reasons to accept his proposal, his attitude had changed. He kept her at arm’s length even when they were very close. He treated her well, with respect and consideration. And since his return from London he returned to his custom of paying her nightly visits. Usually it was three or four times a week. He never stayed until morning. She never asked him to stay with her. She could feel his reserve. Their relations were not what she wished them to be.

  Still there were no signs that she was with child. Nearly half a year after the wedding and her monthly courses were coming regularly without interruption. In a letter she confessed her worry to Aunt Madeline, who ensured her that it was much too soon to worry about it. Elizabeth hoped that the news of a child would strengthen the bond between Darcy and her, close the distance between them. She was well aware that it was her main duty to produce healthy heirs, boys preferably. Especially since she had brought nothing into the marriage apart from her own charms. Darcy never indicated that he was disappointed that there was no heir to Pemberley on the way. Not yet, at least.

  She sighed quietly. What should she do to make him believe that her feelings had changed? She tried to show it to him when they were together at night but also when they went for a walk and talked. He did not seem to notice her efforts. He was courteous but he never kissed her, embraced her, or even touched her or held her hand, unless they were in bed. Even then, although he was not unkind, he was rather hurried, leaving as soon as he was finished. It broke her heart. Many times after he went to his room at night she cried. She wished to cry now.

  Blinking away her tears, she rose from the chair, smoothing her skirts. She was not a coward. She would fight for her happiness. She refused to believe that he did not love her anymore.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she spoke in a clear voice, standing next to his chair.

  “Yes, Elizabeth,” he answered, finishing writing his name at the end of the letter. He put the paper away to allow it to dry, then he looked up at her. “What is the matter?”

  Elizabeth gathered her courage. She leaned forward and kissed his lips, her hand cupping his cheek. Quietly, but clearly enough so that he could hear her, she whispered that she loved him. He allowed the kiss but he did not try to touch her or pull her onto his lap like he would have done in the first months of their marriage.

  Slowly she pulled away from him, straightened up and shyly searching his eyes.

  He reached for one of the letters, opened it, and began to read as if nothing had happened. “That was not necessary,” he said at last, not looking at her.

  “I wished to do it.”

  He was silent for the longest moment, before he began to speak, his tone quiet and matter-of-fact. “Elizabeth, I am well aware that you are grateful to me for rescuing your foolish youngest sister from ruin, inviting your father and the Gardiners to Pemberley, convincing Bingley to return to your other sister. Nevertheless, you do not need to repay me in any special way. Truly. You complete your duties as Mrs. Darcy very well, in every respect, I assure you.”

  Elizabeth stepped away from him, tears flooding her eyes. It was not the response that she hoped for.

  “I will come to you tonight if that is your wish,” he added quietly, still concentrated on his letter. “Now go, finish your book.”

  “I do not wish to read,” she whispered, her voice breaking. With as much dignity as she could master, she left the room. Only in the corridor she allowed the tears to run down her face. Hateful, hateful man!

  ***

  “Are you going out, Lizzy?” Georgiana asked, descending the staircase with an armful of music sheets pressed to her chest.

  Elizabeth was standing in the main foyer, hurriedly putting on her bonnet and gloves. “Yes, for a short walk,” she answered, attempting to control her voice from trembling.

  “It is quite late,” Georgiana noted with concern, coming to stand in front of her. “It will be dark soon. And it is terribly cold.”

  “I will not be long,” she responded, hiding her eyes from her sister. Georgiana was a few good inches taller than her, so that it was easy to hide her tear-stricken face by simply looking down.

  Elizabeth stepped out of the house, icy cold air hitting her, cooling the heat from tears and humiliation on her face. She inhaled deeply and began to walk. Romeo was by her side as usual, but she paid no attention to him. She usually petted the dog or threw him a stick, but not today.

  There was no snow yet, but the ground was frozen, trees completely bare. She walked quickly towards the park. Then she began to run. Her feet were slipping on the frosted ground, but she did not fall. Years of running and walking gave her the experience needed to stay safely afoot in the worst possible conditions. She reached the first trees, and tired, she dropped on the nearest bench, trying to catch her breath.

  When her breathing calmed down, she looked at Pemberley. It seemed to her dour and imposing.

  How could he show so much cruelty to her? Cruel, hateful man! She opened her heart to him and he acted as if it had meant nothing to him.

  Romeo placed his large head on her knees, asking for caresses.

  “Good dog.” Elizabeth stroked his side. “Good Romeo.”

  Petting the dog, she calmed down, regaining some control over her emotions. Her nose was runny. She reached to the pocket of her coat but there was no handkerchief there. She began to search for one in the pockets of her dress when Romeo abandoned her side, running towards the house. It could only indicate one thing. Was she not allowed a moment of privacy?

  “Elizabeth!” she heard his voice from afar. At last she found the handkerchief, hastily cleaning her face and nose the best she could.

  She saw his boots in her eyesight but she refused to look up.

  “Georgiana was concerned about you. What are you doing here? It is freezing and nearly dark. Come home.”

  “It is not my home,” she responded from the bottom of her heart.

  He sighed then took a seat next to her, the bench moving under his weight. “I am sorry for what I said in the library. It was unnecessary.”

  Elizabeth turned her head away from him, looking at the graphite-coloured sky. She felt his arm wrapping around her back, bringing her to him.

  “Leave me alone,” she said, rising to her feet, walking forward.

  “Where are you going?” he cried after her.

  “Nowhere!”

  Soon she was stopped by his hand on her arm. “You will walk tomorrow,” he said. “Now we must return home.”

  “Do not touch me!” she exclaimed. “Do not... Leave me alone!”

  “Calm down,” he spoke firmly. “We shall talk it through, but first you need to return home and get yourself warm.”

  She was breathing heavily, looking into his worried face. “Please, I beg you,” he whispered. “Let us go inside.”

  What other choice did she have but to go with him? To walk into the dark night all alone? She might reach Lambton and rent a room in the inn. Such a thing would be the talk of entire Derbyshire, though—the mistress of Pemberley escaping her home and husband on foot to live in the inn all alone.

  She turned towards the house and began to walk. He was beside her within minutes, trying to touch her arm, but she shrugged him off. In silence they reached the house.

  Elizabeth stared at her feet the entire time, carefully avoiding anyone’s gaze. Darcy walked her up to her room, but she forbade him from entering.

  “I shall be fine now,” she said, staring at his chest. “I shall rest now. I will take dinner here. Please excuse me to Georgiana.”

  He hesitated. “Very well. I shall send the maid to see to you.”

  She shook her head. “No, no maid. Have the dinner sent later on, please.” Elizabeth stepped inside and closed the door in front of his face.

  It was a while before she heard him walking away down the corridor. He was gone and s
he was alone. At least for the time being. The awareness allowed her to take a deep breath and pick up the last pieces of dignity which she had left after today’s confrontation with her husband.

  The warm fireplace and delicious dinner improved her mood and calmed her down considerably.

  Near eight o’clock there was a knock on the door. She was rather certain that it was Darcy. Indeed, when she opened the door there he was, staring at her with a concerned look on his face.

  “Are you feeling better?” he enquired, stepping inside the room.

  “Yes, thank you,” she answered, managing a polite smile.

  He watched her carefully, clearly not convinced by her assurances.

  “My dear, my behaviour in the library was insensitive. I realize it now.”

  “It may be insensitive, but what you said was very distinctive and perspicuous. I understood you perfectly well. I should have not run into the park. It was reckless of me. I cannot escape, can I? I have nowhere to go. I am afraid that I do not have as good control over my emotions as you do.”

  Darcy stepped away from her, pacing the room, running his hand through his hair.

  “Is there something else?” she asked coldly.

  He approached her again, bending his head to gaze into her eyes. “I ask for your forgiveness. I should not have spoken to you the way I did.”

  She looked away from him. “There is no need for that. Now, will you leave me alone?”

  “I thought that we would spend this night together,” he said, sounding almost shy.

  “I do not wish for it. Will you respect it?”

  He raised his hand, touching her arm. “Elizabeth, please...”

  “Do you intend to exert your marital rights now? Against my wishes?”

  He sighed heavily. “Again, I am truly sorry for what I said. I bid you goodnight.” He bowed, and with a last long look at her he left the room.

  Elizabeth enjoyed a peaceful night, although she barely slept one hour. Darcy did not interrupt her rest.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Together with December the first snow fell, coating Pemberley in a fairy-like white cloak. Elizabeth had never before seen so much of it and was quite enchanted. She made her very first snowman together with Georgiana. Unfortunately it melted completely the next day, as the temperature rose for a couple of days before it snowed again.

  After the failed attempt to warm her husband’s heart Elizabeth did not try a similar approach again. Something closed deep inside of her. For a while she began to purposely avoid him. Darcy acted his usual reserved self, as if not noticing or perhaps caring that she separated herself from him as much as she could. He knocked at the door to her bedroom several times, but she never admitted him in, inventing excuses. She realized that such a situation could not last forever. Nevertheless, she could not bear his presence in her bed. Touching and loving her but only to ensure the continuity of Pemberley. It was too painful. Her heart had been torn in two by his cold indifference, and she needed time to heal the wound. For the time being they were perfectly civil towards each other.

  Apart from the disaster that her marriage had become, everything else was going very nicely. Jane and Bingley were happy, her sisters sending enjoyable letters with many details of their courtship. Mr. Bennet continued to be in good health, according to the letters from Longbourn.

  Moreover, Colonel Fitzwilliam announced his visit. He was coming a week before Christmas to spend a few days at Pemberley before he would travel to Matlock. Elizabeth was very much pleased with the news of his arrival, as she remembered him as the most amiable gentleman. Georgiana was also excited to see “Cousin Richard,” as she referred to him. He would be an excellent addition to their company.

  ***

  “What did you do, Cousin Richard?” Georgiana enquired, her eyes round with curiosity.

  “I decided that the best solution would be to leave through the window.”

  “From the first floor?” Elizabeth exclaimed, equally engaged by Colonel Fitzwilliam’s words as the younger girl.

  He was retelling the tale of his adventure in the house of his parents’ neighbours. During the party he was purposely locked in the library with the eldest daughter of the hosts. Their intention was to compromise him and the young lady, forcing them into marriage.

  “Quite fortunately there was a very conveniently placed tree and bushes on that side of the house. I climbed down easily, calmly walked to the stables, found my horse and left that charming abode.”

  “And the lady in question? Did she not cry after you from the window?” Georgina enquired.

  “She did not. She did not wish to be married to me as much as I to her. Only last week I heard a rumour that she was with child and her parents sent her to Ireland where she could have it quietly. Then she would be forced to give it away, I imagine.”

  “How very sad,” Georgiana said.

  “She has a large dowry. I am sure that her parents will find a husband for her, desperate enough to marry her for her fortune. They thought that the younger son of the earl would be an excellent solution, but I was not willing. They must look elsewhere.”

  As engaging as Colonel Fitzwilliam’s story was and his way of telling it, Elizabeth could not stop thinking about her own sister Lydia. If not for Darcy she would have been ruined, especially since her family could not pay to repair her reputation. There was a very thin line for women of their station. Once you crossed it, it was almost impossible to return to polite society. There were things which could not be forgotten.

  Elizabeth turned her head away from Colonel Fitzwilliam, her eyes finding Darcy. He was seated away from the group, enjoying a glass of wine. Elizabeth smiled at him but he did not return it, looking away with a frown.

  During the rest of the evening, she noticed that Darcy was rather displeased every time she talked with his cousin. Was there a possibility that her husband was jealous of Colonel Fitzwilliam? She tried to recall moments when all three of them had spent time together at Rosings Park last spring. Had Darcy been unhappy when she had paid attention to his cousin back then? Yes, he had. He had observed them from afar as they had talked, laughed, and played the pianoforte. Elizabeth had never been in love with Colonel Fitzwilliam, of that she was certain. Nevertheless, she remembered feeling a slight disappointment on learning that the gentleman had no fortune to spare and had to look for a wife with a reasonable dowry. Darcy knew nothing of that, though. They had never spoken of Colonel Fitzwilliam. In his mind his wife might have borne more fondness for a handsome soldier than she truly did.

  ***

  Elizabeth watched her reflection in a floor-length mirror, quite pleased with what she was seeing. It was certainly not the kind of attire which she usually preferred for family dinners.

  She had selected a wine-coloured velvet dress and had blood-red roses pinned in her hair. The dress was cut daringly low, and she asked the maid to lace her stays tighter in order to elevate her bosom. She felt neither comfortable nor like her own self in it, but there was no doubt that she looked older and sophisticated. She did not have to rouge her cheeks, but she added some black paint over her upper lashes which gave her eyes a more expressive look.

  As she entered the drawing room that evening she instantly felt two pairs of male eyes fixed on her person.

  “Mrs. Darcy, you look most enchanting today,” Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke first, walking up to her.

  “Thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she answered, smiling at him widely, showing not only her teeth but dimples in her cheeks as well.

  Elizabeth sat next to Georgiana, whose eyes were wide and astonished.

  “I have never seen you looking so very elegant, Lizzy,” she complimented.

  “Thank you. Mrs. Crane insisted that I should have one gown in this colour, although I was not quite certain. I had all but forgotten about it. I thought to wear it tonight, as we have a guest.”

  “You should wear it more often,” Georgiana encouraged. “It is so
very lovely. There is no point in keeping gowns unused, hidden in the closet. In a year or two they will go out of style and there is only regret left that we have not worn them when we should have.”

  “Excellent point, my dear,” Elizabeth agreed, accepting the wine of glass brought to her by Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  Darcy had not acknowledged her so far, although she had felt his eyes on her more than once. The evening went in pleasant atmosphere. They talked, played cards, and Georgiana played a few songs on the pianoforte while Elizabeth sang. Darcy was even quieter than was his custom, barely moving from his chair the entire time.

  It was not even nine when he proposed that they should retire. Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared to be surprised with such a request, but he agreed without much opposition. Georgiana as usual listened to her brother.

  Together they climbed the grand staircase. On the landing leading to family rooms Darcy bid his goodnight. Georgiana went to her room, Colonel Fitzwilliam directed himself to the guest wing, while Darcy placed his hand firmly on the small of his wife’s back, accompanying her to the door of her bedroom.

  Elizabeth had no opportunity to thank him for escorting her and bid him goodnight as he walked them decidedly inside, closing the door behind them.

  She took a few steps away from him, but he did not allow her to go far. Gently but firmly he caught both of her wrists in his hand, pulling her towards him.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, mesmerized by his eyes staring down at her.

  “I do not like this dress,” he informed her. Then she heard a ripping sound. With his free hand he tore the skirt off the bodice, revealing the stays and petticoats.

  Elizabeth looked down, her mouth agape in shock at her beautiful dress, which now was entirely ruined. She was about to protest against such an assault, but his kiss made her forget what she wanted to say.

  It was not one of those gentle and tender kisses which she knew from him. It was demanding and exciting. He picked her up in his arms, carrying her to bed. Soon they were a tangle of arms and legs, divesting each other of their respective clothing.