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“If you desire to go, Elizabeth, then we shall go. I am exceedingly proud of you, and I would love for London and the whole world to see my beautiful bride.” He paused as she blushed, examining the handkerchief she knotted in her hands. William had read the unspoken question in her last comment. He was not ashamed of her.

“But, know this—some of my relations cannot be civil. I shall not tolerate any of Edgar’s insults, whether aimed at you or anyone else I love. And, I should add, that applies to any of my relations who do not respect my choice. I am a man, not a boy to be ordered about. My only reservation is that I know that if some of them attend, and they might in hopes of insulting you, a confrontation is inevitable. I do not want it to be more than you can bear.”

“I can bear anything with you near me, my love.”

Elizabeth’s expression as she looked towards her husband was so intimate that everyone else averted their eyes.

For his part, William wanted only to carry her directly to his bed, but all he could accomplish was to swallow hard, his eyes entreating her to read his mind. Later, my love!

Strangely, before another half-hour had passed, each couple declared their exhaustion and retired to their rooms, leaving the newlyweds alone in the drawing room. William and Elizabeth lingered there not a minute longer than necessary for the last guest to clear the grand staircase before they hurriedly made their way to the privacy of their bedchamber.

~~~*~~~

Chapter 45

London

Matlock House

Two Months Later

The woman reflected in the gilded mirror no longer resembled the waiflike creature that William had brought to London from Netherfield so many months before—the one with lacklustre locks, dark circles under her eyes and a pale complexion. In her place stood the perfect example of a woman transformed by the love of a man and expecting her first child—she was radiant.

Her dark eyes sparkled, her skin had a healthy glow, and her lustrous dark locks, styled by Lady Matlock’s French maid, were pulled atop her head then woven into an intricate design, featuring long curls down the back with diamond pins scattered throughout. She wore an emerald-green, silk gown with cap sleeves. Elaborate silver embroidery accented with glass beads surrounded the dress at the empire waist and were repeated on her white satin slippers and white, elbow-length gloves.

Though William had insisted that she order a new gown for this occasion, at the last minute, she had decided to wear this one because she loved the colour, and it was not too revealing—or it had not been when she had worn it at the reception the Ingrams had hosted three months before. Nevertheless, now that her breasts were determined to keep pace with the increase in her stomach, the décolletage appeared much more daring. As she studied the dilemma, her eyes were drawn to the very exquisite necklace adorning her neck—William’s wedding present—and the corners of her mouth lifted in a smile.

At least most are more curious about my necklace than my breasts when I wear this!

For a brief moment, she had deliberated against wearing it, as she did not want to divert attention from the newly engaged Mrs. Largin. But remembering Lady Matlock’s assurance that it was appropriate for tonight and that she had loaned Richard’s fiancée an equally elaborate necklace from her collection, Elizabeth’s misgivings had vanished. That matter settled, she was free to admire her lovely present, and her fingers slid effortlessly over the brilliant diamonds fashioned into five-strands and featuring a large teardrop emerald.

It was designed as a choker that dipped in the front, where the teardrop, surrounded by smaller diamonds, rested. Along with the matching earrings, it coordinated with her wedding ring. Truly astonished at the riches at her disposal now that she was Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth recollected how William had insisted she select some jewels from the Darcy collection their first week at Pemberley. Afterward, he had secretly commissioned this necklace, in spite of her insistence that she had all that she would ever need at her disposal. Suddenly she pictured her husband on his knees presenting the gift as she had sat at her dressing table.

“I am not being extravagant, sweetheart. This is your wedding present, and it should be uniquely yours, not something passed down through my family. And please do not forbid me to shower you with such gifts, as I intend to do it for the rest of my life.”

“But ...but, I have no gift to give you.”

“You have given me a priceless gift—you have given me yourself. For you are worth more than any token I might buy.”

She cupped his dear face. “I shall forever thank God that you took me back into your heart when you found me at Netherfield.”

“You never left my heart, Elizabeth. It would not let you go.”

“Neither would mine forsake you.”

Remembering the way they had made love afterwards, she continued to finger the piece, considering its appeal. The majority of the ton would envy her these jewels, unaware of how insignificant they were apart from being tokens of William’s affection. She, on the other hand, was well aware of her true treasures—William and their child. Thoughts of the baby made her turn sideways and, from habit, run her hands down her abdomen, seeking reassurance that there was indeed a swell where the baby lay. Her heart filled with happiness as she contemplated the child she had longed for, and she did not notice when Lady Matlock appeared at the door.

“No one will guess unless you tell them, Elizabeth.”

Startled, she glanced to the corner of the mirror to see Evelyn Fitzwilliam behind her. As their eyes met, the expression on her aunt’s face was the same as when she gazed at William—as a mother would regard her child. Tears came to Elizabeth’s eyes, and she swiftly lowered her gaze, trying to keep her new aunt from seeing.

But Lady Matlock had seen the reaction and hurried forward to put her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders, their eyes meeting in the mirror. “Oh, my dear, I assure you that no one will recognise that you are with child just from your appearance. I would never have said anything if I had known it would upset—”

Elizabeth shook her head, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as she interrupted, “It is not the baby, and truly I do not care if they do guess. We were going to announce our good fortune to our family this weekend. It is just that you sounded so much like a ...” she took a ragged breath, “a mother.”

Having long since heard of the events that brought Elizabeth into William’s life again, Evelyn Fitzwilliam’s heart broke, and she turned the young woman to face her, gently lifting her chin. “Elizabeth, if you will allow me, I shall be privileged to care for you as a daughter—after all, I have always loved William as a son.”

No longer able to hold back her tears, Elizabeth began to cry softly, and Lady Matlock pulled her into an embrace—Elizabeth’s head resting on her shoulder. “Now, now, dear, you must not cry. My nephew will want everyone to see his bride, and you are much too beautiful to ruin the effect with a red nose. William is so seldom in London that I am convinced that many came tonight just to catch a glimpse of him and the woman who won his heart.”