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“If I had not seen Stefano’s body, I might have thought he had prevailed! It would be nice if you had let someone know you were still alive!”

William smiled, knowing Richard’s rants were only to mask his concern for his safety. “We were just about to come and find you.”

“Right! After another kiss perhaps?” he retorted with a wry smile. “Please do not let me keep you from whatever you were doing!”

With a slight smirk, William pulled Elizabeth into his arms, capturing her mouth in a kiss so torrid that Richard began to feel a bit uncomfortable. He left the room quickly, loosening his collar which now felt entirely too tight and seeking some fresh air. Lost in each other, neither William nor Elizabeth heard the low whistle that echoed through the halls just before Richard lunged out the front door.

By then Evan and several men were running up the steps. “Did you find Darcy? Is he well? And Miss Elizabeth?”

Richard looked more flustered than Evan had ever seen him as he spit out, “He is fine. Elizabeth is fine. Stefano is dead. All is well.”

All the men collapsed, exhausted, on the steps, except Evan, who started towards the door. “Then why are they not out here with you?”

Richard stayed him, grabbing his arm as he shook his head sternly. “You do not want to go in there just yet, Cousin.”

Evan stopped, looking perplexed, until suddenly he understood. He grinned, dropping down to sit on the top step to take a well-deserved rest. Richard took his place beside him as Evan chuckled.

“Do you suppose we shall have to wait long? You know how slow Darcy is when trying to make up his mind what to do next.”

~~~*~~~

Chapter 39

Liverpool

Barnwell’s Boarding House

A bedroom

Mr. Williamson sat on the bed as if in a daze. He had just spent a few precious minutes with Elizabeth while the others met with the constable and checked on the injured. Even so, he had barely had time to talk to her before being asked to leave to accommodate the physician. Instead of returning to the room in which the others would reconvene, however, he had retreated to his own bedroom to collect his thoughts—to consider what he would say to William about Lizzybet.

Though he had known for some time that she was alive, a combination of relief and sadness had washed over him when he finally stood face-to-face with her. The young girl he had known was now a woman—not much changed in appearance, but very different in manner. Her dark eyes now held a hint of cynicism instead of sparkling with insatiable curiosity. The girl, who had once asked him how to know if she was in love, had been replaced by a woman who knew far too much of love from a madman’s perspective.

When the vicar opened the door, a maid sitting in a chair just inside quickly stood and nodded towards the balcony. As he reached the balcony door, Elizabeth turned at the sound of his footsteps and, for a moment, neither of them spoke. She looked bewildered, so he offered, “Lizzybet?”

Convinced it was actually him, she began to cry and ran into his arms. “Father Williamson!” He cried, too, pulling her into a warm hug. She apologised against his chest, “I—I am sorry! I mean, Mr. Williamson!”

Pulling back to look at her, he soothed, “I know your father made you stop calling me that because he thought it was disrespectful, but I never felt it was—I cherished it!”

“I was a child. I heard Gregory call you Father, and I wanted to do the same,” Elizabeth replied sheepishly. “I did not know it could be misinterpreted until my mother heard and scolded me. Then she told Papa.”

“Since Gregory was lost at sea, there is no one to call me that endearment anymore. I would dearly love you to do so if you wish. I always thought of you as my daughter, and I know you called your own dear father ‘Papa’ so I do not believe he would mind.”

She shook her head, sniffling as she brushed the tears from her face. “Papa always respected you and our friendship, so I do not think he would mind at all. You realise that I have no family now, other than Jane, Charles and Peter and, of course, my aunt and uncle in London. I would dearly love for you to be a part of my family, as you have always been a part of my heart.”

“Then so be it!” Williamson declared, clasping her again in a hug. “Henceforth, we shall be family in truth as well as in spirit.”

Elizabeth nodded vigorously against his chest, before leaning back to look up at him with a quizzical expression. “How ever did you come to be here? With Fitzwi—Mr. Darcy?”

It took several minutes to explain how he had met Fitzwilliam Darcy and the detour his life had taken afterward. Mr. Williamson began his story with finding William in despair at the cemetery and their shared sorrow, adding how much he had admired the young man from the very first time they had met. Then, his face transformed, his joy palpable, he spoke of learning she was alive and of William’s invitation to visit Pemberley to see her again. Finally, he related to her how they had come to be in Liverpool and about their efforts to recover her.

At the end, he declared, “I cannot believe it. My Lizzybet is alive! God is good!”

Reaching to hold both his weathered hands, Elizabeth suddenly seemed reserved, and her eyes dropped to the floor. “I—I cannot let you leave without telling you of my resolution. Please know that I contemplated the cost but have chosen my path. I daresay that you will not approve.” Her eyes found his again. “But, as part of my family, you have the right to know.”

He nodded solemnly—conscious from her manner that she was talking of something very close to her heart.

“Every minute I was Stefano’s prisoner—over two long years—I longed for the man I truly loved—Fitzwilliam Darcy. I know now that he felt the same way about me.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “It was his love that restored me. I would never have recovered had he not taken me into his home—into his life—and shown me unconditional love. And, foolish as I was to fall back into Stefano’s hands, I have been given yet another opportunity.” She squeezed his hands harder now, willing him to understand.