Elizabeth had remained coolly withdrawn. She rode beside him as before, but her figure was straight, rather than leaning into him. Her complexion was nearly waxen, with bloodless cheeks, unnaturally red lips, and a dewy sheen that testified to her tearful night. Her eyes were all that moved, roving about the carriage with the heaviness of a weighted chain—dragging his thoughts through every rift and valley with them.
How he longed to tear the lid off his turmoil and empty his feelings to her! Not a second had they shared alone since those few minutes before the wedding the previous day—a lifetime ago. But even without that coveted moment alone with her, they had spent enough hours aligning their spirits and exploring each other’s thoughts that a mere look sufficed to know all. If only shewouldlook at him.
Reginald’s head was now leaning heavily against the wall as the train gently rocked. His throat rattled, and his jaw fell slack. At leasthewould have some rest. Darcy’s hand strayed to Elizabeth’s, but when he brushed her fingers, he found them rigid.
“William…” She blinked, and he caught the glitter of a tear trembling at the edge of her lashes. “I—”
“Elizabeth, stop,” he whispered. “I beg you—let us not speak yet.”
Her mouth tightened. “How does it matter when we speak of it? We both know…”
“Elizabeth, I need you now. Just as you come to me with your sorrows and your trials, I need you—I need my friend and my love. Please, do not pull away from me yet.”
The tear fell free and slipped down her cheek—a fleeing phantom, leaving a trail of anguish in its wake. “William, it will only make it worse.”
“Worse?” he repeated. “We have arrived at ‘worse’ and are descending quickly into the morass. How can I not be euphorically happy that a man who was a brother to me has returned from the dead? Yet how can I rejoice when I lose my own life the very moment he reclaims his?”
Elizabeth sniffed and shook her head numbly. She tried to speak, but only a garbled mewl sounded.
He touched her cheek, grazing her soft skin with his thumb as he had so often done. Another tear escaped, and he softly kissed it away. “Only a little longer, my dearest Elizabeth. Let me hold you one more hour before I have to let you go.”
She broke, strangled cries rending her body, and she crumpled to his shoulder. “Oh, my William!” Damp lashes brushed his cheek, her breath hot on his neck as she sobbed. Darcy braced both arms around her, clinging to her for these last few moments with all the hope left in him.
Chapter 41
Matlock
Asupernaturalhushhadfallen over the estate. The earl’s jubilant triumph at discovering his brother alive was no greater than his biting distress over Richard’s condition. A telegram was sent post-haste to London to secure the services of a top surgeon, and every maid and footman flew about their duties with breathless urgency. Through it all, Richard slept in a feverish and drugged misery that the doctor pronounced to be “restorative.”
The earl, Darcy, and Elizabeth formed a revolving body of attendants those first hours after Richard’s arrival. Never were less than two of them hovering over his bed, and more frequently all three. It was not until the countess returned the following afternoon that Elizabeth could be prevailed upon to retire for a few hours. She leaned heavily on Lady Matlock’s shoulder as that good lady nearly bore her from the room, looking back with lingering regret in every step. Before the door closed, she caught Darcy’s eye, then finally turned away.
Darcy leaned forward, staring at the still figure on the bed while Reginald sagged in his chair, kneading his head in his hands. “I mean to have an answer for this,” the earl grumbled. “I will have that general’s stars, I will!”
“Have you wondered,” Darcy asked, “why he was travelling in secret? There must have been some reason. I would not be so hasty to contact the Army, or anyone else, for that matter.”
“What, you think Richard a deserter? Impossible,” Reginald scoffed. “He was born saluting king and country.”
“I would never accuse him of that, but does it not make you wonder? Is it possible he was on a secret mission?”
“To Scotland? Darcy, you need sleep as badly as I do.”
“You should go, then,” Darcy sighed tiredly. “I will sit with him.”
Reginald stubbornly made a fist and propped his jaw against it as he gazed at his brother. “Darcy, about Elizabeth...”
“Don’t. You can say nothing I have not already lectured myself with a dozen times over.”
“I had no intentions of stating the obvious. What I meant to say was for Richard’s sake. It might be better if he did not hear of your engagement to his wife. Not... not yet.”
“You think the telling will become easier with delay and concealment?” Darcy demanded bitterly. “The outcome is guaranteed, regardless.”
“I mean he is in no shape for a shock of that nature.” Reginald nodded towards the bed while jerking a thumb down the hall. “I have hopes that she will be just the medicine he needs. Sweet, caring girl like that, strong enough to stare down his demons and stick to his side? You would not threaten that too early, I hope.”
“I cannot threaten it at all! What shall I say? ‘Welcome back, we thought you were dead, so I moved in on your widow? Sorry about that, no hard feelings’?”
“Stop it, Darcy,” the earl snapped. “I understand your dilemma, but she belongs to him, and heneedsher!”
Darcy hissed and raised from his seat. “Yes, he does. He’ll hear no grief from me over it.”
