“She is not entirely unprotected. Her uncle was in London on some business. We sent word to him, and from what I hear, he is not a man to cross.”
Richard screwed his mouth into a grimace, ignoring the colonel’s comment. “And I, fool that I am, saw to it he had plenty of funds to fleece that poor girl!” He fisted his knuckles and plopped his chin on his hand, furious with himself.
Forster regarded him somewhat quizzically, but when Richard offered no more, he shrugged, and his expression cleared. “Well, Fitzwilliam, I would keep a sharp eye out if I were you. I would not be surprised if he did not go far. Blooming foolish of him to stick around here, but if he has it in for you and Darcy….” He shook his head and rose, signalling the end of their interview.
Richard’s shoulders drooped, defeated for the moment. He had counted on some reassurance from his old comrade, but none was forthcoming. He would just have to protect Georgiana the old-fashioned way—by keeping her in sight at all times.
Darcyshifteduncomfortablyinthe saddle. He had chosen to ride again for the speed it offered, but even he, consummate horseman that he was, did not relish quite so many hours in one day on horseback and in a pouring rain besides. He grimaced against his seizing muscles. Now he remembered why he had relegated the sorrel gelding to his London house. He was a fine-looking animal with flashy paces, most suitable for brief tours of the public lanes, but blasted uncomfortable to ride for more than half an hour. Darcy flexed his thighs against the awkward twist of his fancy park saddle—made, of course, to fit this wretched horse—cursing even that unfortunate item in his gnawing displeasure.
If he was correct in his guess, he had less than an hour to go on this uncomfortable journey. He could survive sopping, freezing cold and stiff saddles and rough horses if he could just find himself again in Elizabeth’s loving arms at the end of it all. How freely she had welcomed him that very morning in the sunrise! It was worth a lifetime of devotion just to be blessed with her sweet smile, the warm fragrance of her as he pressed her close to him at last. No other woman could fit so perfectly into his heart! It was as though she had always belonged there, and he had only needed to slough his cursed pride to be worthy of her.
A smile began to grow, despite the water droplets running down his face. No, he was still not worthy of her, but she had promised to have him regardless. His precious Elizabeth would be his forevermore! He pushed aside thoughts of his aunt’s schemes for the moment. He would not allow himself to dwell on his darker thoughts and fears while he yet struggled with his momentary hardships. If he could only get back to her warm embrace and assure himself of her continued attachment, all would be well.
He closed his eyes to blot out the rain, assuming his clumsy mount would manage to keep on all fours for the space of a few breaths, at least. He pictured his sweet Lizzy at Pemberley, filling his home with her laughter. Rooms long left shrouded and untouched would flood once more with the warmth and light of their mistress—and the master’s heart would fare even better!
Which would be her favourite walks and groves? With a twitching mouth, he determined that he would personally be there for each of them as she made up her mind—most particularly those which afforded some modicum of privacy! He burned with impatience to see his home through the eyes of the woman he so longed to please. He felt sure that the lively and authentic Elizabeth would appreciate Pemberley’s natural landscape and sprawling vistas. It was highly likely, he mused, that she might even introduce him to facets of his home that even he had yet to discover.
After their long walks, of course, he would have to see to it that his pearl was not over-tired. She must rest! Onlyhischambers would do, to be sure, where he could personally ascertain that she was comfortable and well coddled. Oh, yes, he had every intention of coddling her, and with his recent glimpses of her breathless response to his affections, he felt sure she would allow him to pamper her as he saw fit.
Her restrictive attire, made for public eyes, must, in the end, give way to her comfort. He would start with her shoes, inspecting and massaging her dainty feet to be sure that her exertions had not caused any discomfort. His fingers laced unconsciously through his horse’s mane as he next envisioned freeing her rebellious curls. Her shining hair, that perfect combination of twining ringlets and soft silkiness, would coil over his fingers as he kissed the elegant and forbidden column of her neck.
His arm, he would keep wound securely about her as he caressed her so that she might not suffer any danger from her weakening knees, as he had proudly begun to sense the day before. Oh, no, better yet, he would help her to recline comfortably on….Good heavens. He gulped, his pulse skittering.
Indulging his fondest desires, he allowed his ardent fantasy to continue. Her confining stockings would obviously have to go, as well as the stiff garters holding them in place. What would her bared skin feel like beneath his fingertips? Would she permit him to wander freely, acquainting himself intimately with all her secrets, every hidden delight?
He smiled against the raindrops hovering on his lips. Oh, yes, his passionate Lizzy would put aside her modesty for him, and for him alone. He did not deserve her caress or her open reception of his advances, but his generous Elizabeth would lovingly bestow them, nonetheless.
His hands curled as he imagined sliding his fingers up beyond her… whatever remaining garments women wore—drawing aside the final barriers between them. What unparalleled beauty would be his to behold? He forgot to breathe for a moment as his mind kissed and blessed her sweet form in his dreams. Her sighs of pleasure almost reached his ears as he imagined lowering himself over her at last, forming a protective cocoon around her body with his arms and sharing her breath in the most intimate embrace afforded a man and a woman.
A cold splash over his knees jarred him at last from his pleasant reverie. His blasted horse lurched to the side as he tried to avoid a pocket of muddy water sprawling across the road. Grunting, Darcy vowed to himself he would sell the intractable beast as soon as may be. Squeezing his calves mercilessly, he urged the spoiled town-dwelling brute across the puddle. The horse made an awkward lunge, fearful of falling into the great black chasm of nothingness stretched before him.Chicken-heart!thought his owner sourly, all the more cross because his dreamy musings had been so dashedly interrupted.
Darcy sent the horse off once again, looking about himself. He was only five minutes nearer Elizabeth than he had been before, and it had long been quite dark. He shrugged his shoulders, chilled, and a fresh rivulet of water cascaded down his collar under his oilskin. He heaved a weary sigh. Bedraggled mop that he would appear, he intended to see his love first and ascertain that she was well before he made himself presentable at Netherfield.
CharlotteLucascrouchedsulkilyon her bed, her arms wrapped about her knees and her scowling visage propped upon her thighs. Maria had visited her briefly in her confinement, but so far, her father felt it best that she heed Lady Catherine’s advice to solitary reflection.
The opinion, of course, was seconded by her affianced. Charlotte ground her teeth. She had endeavoured to regard Collins as tolerable because of the independence he offered, but even that highly desirable prize had started to pale. She began, like Elizabeth, to question if the respectability of a married woman was worth the price of her entire future.
There was a soft knock at the door, so light that Charlotte almost missed it in her self-pity. “Yes?” she answered.
The door pushed open to admit a furtive shape, then closed quickly. Charlotte blinked in some amazement. “Miss de Bourgh?”
Anne de Bourgh held a finger to her lips, glancing back at the door. “My mother is in the next room,” she whispered.
Charlotte stared curiously, slowly adjusting her slovenly seat upon the bed and inviting Miss de Bourgh to sit opposite her. Anne accepted, her face bright with her exertion. “Can I help you?” Charlotte ventured cautiously at last.
Anne nodded, smiling faintly and putting her hand to her breast as she caught her breath. “You can tell me about your friend.”
Chapter 30
Elizabethhadgentlydemandedthat Mrs Cooper take a rest. She had spent the last few days eating and sleeping in this little room for the most part. With her husband’s assurances and her own belief that her patient was improving, she was finally persuaded to take a real bed for the night. Elizabeth took her post with a candle and a book for her company—but not her only company. She allowed herself a sly smile. The truth was that she had begun to cherish each moment she shared with Darcy, and even Jane’s unobtrusive presence put a damper on her delicious reminiscing.
She worried ever so slightly about Lady Catherine’s threats. She knew that Darcy was dependent upon none of his relations and that there was no real power his aunt held over him, but she did not like that his family would be displeased by their marriage. She pitied poor Anne de Bourgh if she were truly disappointed but took some comfort in the fact that his uncle and certainly his other cousin appeared to look upon their union favourably. She shook her head. Surely Lady Catherine was justifiably vexed in the dashing of her every expectation. It could not excuse the lady’s atrocious conduct to herself, but even that Elizabeth could find in her heart to forgive. She had Darcy’s assurances, and that was all she really cared for.
She luxuriated in a little sigh of pleasure as she sank into her chair and admired her ring once more. In character and talents, there could not be a man better suited to her. His understanding was excellent, and though he was little inclined to light-hearted small talk, he spoke freely and eloquently enough when they were alone. She smiled privately, wondering how long it would be before she was able to spend agreat dealof time alone with him.
The door opened, and she looked up, expecting Jane, or perhaps her aunt. It was Darcy, sopping wet and frigid. “William!” she gasped and sprang to her feet immediately.
She moved into his arms without hesitation, impulsively wishing to share her warmth with him. His face softened, the weary lines giving way to a meek smile as he stepped back from her. “I am all wet, Elizabeth.”
