Her Voice of Reason Page 14

  “You ruined my dress,” Elizabeth murmured sleepily some time later. She had her head placed on his chest, her hair in disarray, the petals from roses which adorned her head spread around them. They were still partially dressed, but so tired after their lovemaking that for the time being they had no strength to disrobe themselves completely. Elizabeth still had her chemise and stockings on, although the stays were gone as well as her petticoats. Darcy was in his shirt, with his black trousers lowered down to his knees but not completely removed.

  “Where did you get this dress from?” he wished to know.

  “Mrs. Crane, naturally. She insisted that I should have it even though I tried to protest that it was too daring.”

  “Can it be repaired?”

  “It is beyond repair, I am afraid.”

  “I will write to Mrs. Crane to make you the exact same one.”

  Lifting her head to look at him, she asked, “You tore it to pieces to have it sewn again?”

  Cupping his face, he explained, “You will wear the new one, but only when we are in private.”

  She grinned. “You, sir, were jealous of your cousin.”

  His hand cupped possessively her behind, going under the hem of the chemise to stroke her naked skin. “And you, little devious creature, purposively donned such a daring gown to elicit my reaction.”

  “Perhaps,” she said, placing her head back on his chest.

  With a sigh he gathered her more closely to him, kissed the top of her head. “We should talk, discuss this misunderstanding between us.”

  “But not tonight,” she pleaded.

  “Tomorrow?”

  She yawned. “Yes, tomorrow.”

  ***

  The next morning Elizabeth woke up sore in more than one place but quite pleased with herself and her husband.

  Darcy was nowhere to be seen, the same as her maid. Naked and still very much sleepy, she stomped to the chair to pick up her robe, putting it on. Then she dragged her legs towards the dressing room, where she took time to refresh herself.

  On returning to the bedroom she saw the door leading to the sitting room open. Darcy was there, dressed in a casual manner, standing over there uncovering the dishes with breakfast.

  “Here you are,” he said, turning his head, a smile gracing his handsome features.

  She ran into his arms.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “Well, but not for very long.”

  Leaning down, he kissed her softly. “I cannot have you overtired, thus I have a proposition to make.”

  She gave him an encouraging look.

  He put his hands around her waist, squeezing lightly. “We shall stay here for the entire day. We shall eat, then read, sleep, make love, eat and sleep again.”

  “It sounds lovely. However, what about Colonel Fitzwilliam? Will it be proper to neglect him so? He is the guest, after all.”

  “I have already talked to him. He will entertain himself in the library, I assure you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Simply that you are tired.”

  “He might think me lazy.”

  “He will not. He likes you too much, much too much for my taste.”

  They kissed again, long and deep. Elizabeth’s growling stomach interrupted this activity. Darcy laughed, sitting his wife behind the table and filling her plate with all her favourite food.

  They ate in silence and with great appetite after the night’s activities, smiling at one another from time to time.

  After the meal Elizabeth proposed that they should play backgammon. They had played chess previously, but never this game. Darcy had the set brought from the library and they began to play, sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace.

  Elizabeth concentrated on the game. After only a few turns she could see that Darcy was as good at it as he was at chess. She had no intention to lose to him, thus she concentrated all her brainpower to gain advantage over her husband.

  “Your turn,” she said when he failed to roll the dice, frowning over the board, thinking of his next possible movement.

  “I love you too,” he spoke in return.

  She lifted her eyes to him, forgetting the game.

  “I apologize for not returning your sentiments when you said them. My pride and resentful nature stopped me from doing so.”

  She smiled. “It is all well now, Fitzwilliam.”

  “You are gracious to say so.”

  “You are the gracious one to love me still after how I deceived you.”

  “I was a fool, Elizabeth, refusing to see your true feelings for me. We were both at fault, that is for certain. As for loving you, I have never stopped. My heart bled, but I loved you more with every day.”

  “Your turn,” she repeated.

  He shook the dice in the cup and rolled them onto the board.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Colonel Fitzwilliam departed to Matlock. Elizabeth was grateful for his visit. Who knew how long it would have taken for Darcy and her to come to an understanding without the advantage of Colonel’s Fitzwilliam presence?

  Intensified preparations for Christmas began at Pemberley. It was decided that they would spend it quietly this year, but still there were many matters which should be taken care of. The house was to be decorated with holly, mistletoe and green garlands. The baskets with food and small gifts had to be prepared for the poor. Elizabeth had her hands full. It was her responsibility to decide which rooms should be decorated and how, which families should receive the gifts and what should they be.

  They were also invited to several balls and parties in the neighbourhood for New Year’s Eve. They accepted only one invitation to Matlock. Georgiana was accompanying them. She was not yet out, but Elizabeth thought that it was heartless to leave her alone at home. She could not participate in a ball and parties, nevertheless she could still enjoy the company of her cousins and family at Matlock Manor. Darcy was aware that the company at Matlock would be varied and that Georgiana would encounter at least a few young men there. He was less than pleased with that. Elizabeth reminded him that she was not a child anymore and that contact with young people her age, both men and women, could only help to overcome her shyness. He scowled at her arguments but did not oppose them.

  ***

  There were more than thirty baskets placed on a long table in the servants' hall. Elizabeth had a list in her hand checking if there was a basket ready for every family.

  “Are you going to distribute them yourself, Mistress?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.

  “I wished to, but Mr. Darcy was not keen on the idea,” she replied. “He does not like when I go to the village too often, especially to see the poorest families.”

  “Mr. Darcy must still bear in mind what happened to you last summer.”

  “I am aware of this, but my opinion is that he should let it go. Such a thing will never happen again between footman and Romeo always accompanying me on my trips to Kempton.”

  “Master Fitzwilliam has always taken his responsibilities to heart, even as a young lad. He must have felt guilty that his wife was harmed so badly at his own home.”

  “I hope that he will forget about it until next summer.”

  “Of that I would not be certain, Mistress.”

  Elizabeth frowned over her list with concentration. “This reminds me... Mrs. Reynolds, where is the basket for Mrs. Miles?”

  The housekeeper pointed to the last basket in a row. “Over there, Mistress.”

  Elizabeth stepped to it and began to look through the contents. “I have some warm clothes for the baby I would like to add here. They are lying prepared on the chair in my room. Could you have a maid go upstairs to fetch them?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Darcy. I will see to it myself. Mrs. Miles should thank her stars that you took an interest in her.”

  “I would not say that, Mrs. Reynolds. After all, if it were not for me her husband would still be living and breathing.”

&nbs
p; “And drinking and beating her and those innocent children. It was very generous of Mr. Darcy to give her that old cottage in Kempton with such a lovely garden behind it. She can collect a sizeable income on growing pigs and chickens alone, not to mention the vegetable garden. Had it not been for Mr. Darcy’s generosity she would have starved in the street with all those little ones.”

  Elizabeth looked at the elder women with a troubled expression. “I must admit that I feel some guilt over what happened to Miles. He deserved punishment, but imprisonment would have been quite enough for him.”

  “Allow me to disagree, Mistress. That man was not good. He was not willing to be reformed. Master Darcy acted exactly as he should have in this situation.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I cannot even start this subject with him, as he grows very upset.”

  “Mrs. Darcy, perhaps it is not my place to speak so bluntly to you, but as a mother myself I can see that you have a good and tender heart. You are still very young, though. Time and experience will allow you to look at many matters differently.”

  “Mrs. Darcy,” Elizabeth heard her husband’s voice. On turning her head, she saw him standing in the doorway. “May I have your company for a minute?”

  “Of course. Mrs. Reynolds and I are finished.”

  She thanked the housekeeper with a smile and joined her husband.

  “I have news from Hertfordshire,” he said as he led her in the direction of the library.

  “From whom?” she wished to know. “Good news, I hope?”

  Darcy allowed Elizabeth to walk in first and closed the door behind them. He sat down behind the desk, reaching for one of the letters.

  “From what I could decipher from Bingley’s scribbles, he officially invites us, Georgiana included, to their wedding on March third.”

  “So soon?” Elizabeth marvelled.

  “Jane did not write to you about it?”

  “She did, but not recently. I imagine that she mentioned to me the middle of April or even early May.”

  “Bingley writes that he cannot wait any longer to be joined with his beloved Jane forever. He sounds quite poetic.”

  Elizabeth reached for the letter. “May I?” she asked. Darcy nodded his head and she scanned the first paragraphs. It was very badly written.

  “How can you even read it?”

  “Years of training.”

  Elizabeth stared at the words which resembled Egyptian script more than anything else. “I have never seen such a thing.”

  “Bingley was not the brightest of students when it came to reading and writing. I have never seen him reading for pleasure. He told me once that one of his tutors swiped his hand every time he wrote something badly.”

  “How horrible.”

  “Yes, quite. He is a brilliant mathematician, though. He would be excellent at business with his head for figures if not for his soft heart.”

  Elizabeth abandoned the trial to read through the writing of her future brother. She gave the letter back to Darcy, cupping his cheek. “You have a good heart as well.”

  Darcy frowned. “I do not know from where you have taken such a brazen idea.”

  She rolled her eyes. “We shall travel to Hertfordshire by the end of February, then,” she more stated than asked.

  “We shall,” he agreed gravely. “However, I cannot imagine how we will travel if the roads are not dry by that time. There is always horseback, and although it is fine for me and Georgiana, you do not ride.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “We shall worry about it when the time comes. I could learn to ride in the next two months.”

  “Absolutely not. You are afraid of horses.”

  “I am not afraid of them.”

  He pinned her with a doubtful look.

  “I simply disliked staying in their close vicinity. But I could try. Perhaps I may like them if I put my heart to it.”

  “Perhaps in a year’s time, certainly not now.”

  She frowned. “Why in a year?”

  Darcy extended his hand to her, inviting her onto his lap. “You must be, or rather we, must be very careful now.”

  She stared at him for a moment longer, trying to understand his meaning.

  “Your monthly courses are late.”

  “They are?” she asked him.

  “You have not noticed.”

  She considered for a moment. “They should come around this time of the month,” she agreed. “They will start in a day or two.”

  Darcy reached past her for a large and heavy dark leather book where he wrote down all the important matters, dates and events.

  He opened it with one flip of his hand, showing her what he wrote in the left upper corner of the page.

  Elizabeth leaned forward to read. December 17th-23rd E. courses

  She gasped, flushing bright red. “How could you write such a thing in a book that is available for everyone to see when they walk in here?”

  He shrugged. “Even if someone dared to look through the book, he would learn nothing from it, as I wrote ‘E.’, not Elizabeth.”

  “Everyone is aware that my name starts with E!” she protested.

  He pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “The fact is that today is December 22nd. So far you were extremely punctual in that respect.”

  Elizabeth leaned into his embrace, relaxing completely as he kissed her shoulder.

  “Perhaps,” she acknowledged. “But we cannot be sure until I feel something.”

  “I would like for you to see the midwife. Mrs. Beatle is the very best, I hear. She lives in Lambton, but she is called as far as to Matlock to deliver babies. ”

  “It is much too soon to see a midwife.”

  “Next month, then,” he conceded.

  “If my courses do not come next month, I shall see her.”

  “Very well, then. As you see, the riding lessons are out of the question.”

  “It is a relief, to be entirely truthful.”

  They were silent for a longer while. Darcy kept her in his arms as if he did not wish to ever let her go.

  “Are you pleased with the possibility?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Naturally.”

  “And if it is a girl?”

  “Do not stress over it. These are matters which cannot be predicted. I will love and enjoy a girl as much as a boy.”

  Supporting her head on his shoulder, calmed by his assurances, she confessed, “I long to see Longbourn, my sisters and Mama.”

  “I am aware of it. You must promise me one thing, though—two, actually. We shall not stay at Longbourn but at Netherfield, and Wickham cannot attend the wedding.”

  “He will not, Jane will see to it. As for staying at Netherfield, Mama will not be pleased.”

  “And I will not be persuaded about it, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice quite stern.

  “Very well. Mama will have to come to terms with it.”

  His hand went to her stomach, pressing there. “The child will be born in the middle of summer. It will be quite uncomfortable for you, especially with the heat waves like we had this year.”

  She tapped his chest lightly. “Will you stop fretting? You cannot know if the weather will be hot or not in eight months or so.”

  He let out a tortured sigh. “I will do nothing but fret for the next eight months.”

  “No you will not,” she said, opening the buttons of his vest, then shirt, her hand slipping inside, touching his warm skin.

  “Elizabeth, I do not believe that it is the best time,” he murmured, his voice slightly admonishing but not in the least convincing.

  Her small fingers tickled his ribcage, causing him to frown.

  “Stop it this instant,” he ordered, but her hand on his ribs did not listen.

  “I shall not, and I intend to use your weak point to my full advantage.”

  “I am not ticklish,” he denied, his lips turning up in a smile.

  A minute later Mrs. Reynolds was passing by the libra
ry with the head maid when they heard a male laugh coming from behind the wall.

  “Keep going,” Mrs. Reynolds said as the other woman stayed behind to listen at the door.

  The maid caught up with the housekeeper, whispering, “I have been here since I was seventeen, and in all these years I have never heard Mr. Darcy laugh like this.”

  “It is not your place to make such remarks, but if we are at this subject, I must say that I am very glad to see Mr. Darcy so very happy.”

  “People say that she bewitched him. They say that she is neither very beautiful nor worldly and still Master follows her like an eager puppy.”

  Mrs. Reynolds halted in place, glaring at her companion. “Do not ever repeat such a thing!” she whispered in a high-pitched tone. “I do swear people can be more stupid that it should be tolerated. I do not wish any gossip among the maids. It is not their business to discuss the private life of their employers.”

  The maid hung her head. “Yes, Mrs. Reynolds.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A month later

  Elizabeth threw the stick as far as she could. Romeo reacted instantly, shooting ahead to collect it. The dog indeed enjoyed the game. He could run after the stick for hours and hours on end.

  The stick was brought to her and placed at her feet, the long tongue hanging out of the hound’s mouth in anticipation of another good run.

  Bending, she placed her hands on her knees and said, “You like running, don’t you boy?” Romeo gave her an eager and expectant look. She picked the stick and threw it again.

  A warm current went down her back which told her that Darcy was nearby. And indeed she was correct in her assumption. On turning her head, she saw him approaching from the direction of the house. His black great coat cut off from the white scenery, making him look even more handsome. Her heart filled with joy at the sight. The last weeks had been truly the happiest of her life. How could she have once despised the man who was her husband?

  “Have you decided to join me?” she asked, smiling widely when he was close enough to hear her. “You said that you were too busy today. Much too busy to join your wife on her daily walk,” she teased.