My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey Into Love Everlasting (28 page)

"I am your husband, Mrs. Darcy, which gives me the right!" They glared at each other, anger in full sway on both sides with neither able to contain themselves.

"Is this how it is to be now? You barking commands without explanation? This is not like you, William. Tell me what is troubling you or I will make no promises of any kind."

"You have already promised to obey, if you recall." He flashed, immediately wincing inwardly.

She stared at him for a long while, Darcy sternly meeting her eyes but clearly deeply disturbed. "You are correct, Mr. Darcy, I did promise. I just never thought it would be lorded over me in such a manner."

His face fell and he reached for her slack hands. "You must trust me in this, Elizabeth. I know what is best."

His eyes were pleading, but she detected a distance not seen since long before their engagement. He was keeping a secret, she was sure of it, and the stab of pain to her heart was acute.

"I am going to change for bed," she finally said, withdrawing her hands. "Excuse me."

Darcy watched her leave, ripping at his choking cravat with a foul curse. "Blast, Darcy, you are a fool!" he muttered, throwing the unoffending neckcloth violently at the wall. He strode to her door, pausing at the last instant.
Give it a moment,
he thought,
calm yourself and think!

He had worried so, not wishing to cause her pain by learning of Lady Underwood's advances. Yet he now suspected that his horrible actions had caused her far more pain than the simple truth. Furthermore, her comments strongly suggested that Lady Underwood had said nothing untoward. He suddenly wondered if she had not cunningly schemed for his outburst, realizing that she need only sit near Elizabeth to rankle her protective husband.

He threw his body onto the chair, hands running angrily in his hair. Now he had to rectify the situation, find the words to apologize profusely and on bended knee if need be, and then tell her the truth. He groaned, absently unbuttoning and removing coats as his mind whirled.

Whether planned or not, his natural need to shield her from pain had aroused his temper, in turn inciting her ire, and the two of them had clashed. Why is it that she rendered him in all ways impetuous? It had always been so, from their first unruly tete-a-tetes at Netherfield to the wild abandon found in their bed. She unhinged him in all ways, his organized mind disheveled constantly by her wit and verve. His passionate nature was unleashed and reckless. His love for her so consuming that rational thought flittered away with the supreme desire to please her and care for her.

He had asked her to trust him and knew that ultimately she would, without further questions. But he had seen the hurt in her eyes and knew it was borne of his distrust in sharing with her, not in the rude command. The wall thrust between them must be destroyed. He sighed, bending to remove his shoes and stockings.

She returned at that moment, hair braided rather than loose and wearing a plain gown with thick robe belted tight. She did not glance in his direction, but walked with lifted chin and stately poise to the bed. Darcy could not help but smile at her fire and not-so-subtle hints.

"Elizabeth, my love," he began.

"I am tired, Mr. Darcy. Good night." Her voice was firm, vexation apparent.

He paused, watching her roughly fluff the pillow and draw the blankets. Softly he spoke, "Remember how I told you once that women would offer themselves to me? Offers I never accepted, but grew somewhat accustomed to nonetheless?" She did not answer, but had stilled with her back yet to him. He swallowed and resumed, "Lady Underwood extended such an invitation to me, several times." Another pause followed by a deep sigh as he leaned back in the chair. "I should have told you and been honest, but I did not wish to ruin our holiday. I was in error. Please forgive me?"

Lizzy clutched the sheet, not turning. "How did it occur? What did she say?"

"The particulars are not important..."

"They are to me! What happened?"

Her voice was cold as Darcy had never heard it. He frowned but answered her. When he finished, she stood silently for a handful of minutes, the sheet edge crinkled under a white-knuckled fist. His frown deepened and he sat forward, opening his mouth to speak when she abruptly spun about. Her countenance was flushed with a rage he had never witnessed, not even at Kent. Eyes practically shooting sparks, she stormed to where he sat, Darcy involuntarily gripping the chair arms and sinking into the cushions by the force of her anger. She stopped before him, swaying slightly and leaning into his stunned face.

"Do not
ever
keep such secrets from me, Fitzwilliam Darcy!"

He nodded, but she was already moving away, striding vigorously toward the door in a manner vaguely familiar. It was just like him! Having no idea what she was thinking but truly fearful at the fury evident in every particle of her body, he jumped up and trailed after. The door was opening before he reached her, Darcy lunging forward and slamming it shut with one hand high over her head.

"Elizabeth, where...?"

"Out of my way, William!"

"No. I will not allow you to leave so angry and dressed like this. We must discuss this."

She pivoted, one hand still on the knob and pulling futilely against his superior strength, meeting his eyes with defiance. "She touched my husband! Pretended to be my friend while laying hands on you! She demanded to... to..." Lizzy spluttered shrilly, waving her free hand briskly in the general region of his front side, "know you in the Biblical sense!"

Darcy fisted his free hand over the smile threatening to break forth as he coughed on the laugh that erupted. Lizzy's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"If you dare to laugh, William, I will hurt you! This is not at all humorous. If the situation were reversed, I know quite well how you would handle it! Pity there is not a sword or pistol about." And she actually visually scanned the room as if expecting and praying a rapier would materialize.

"Elizabeth, forgive me. You are right. This is not humorous. However, you are overreacting just a bit. Nothing occurred, naturally..."

"I know that!" she snapped, rolling her eyes and piercing him with a look of utter contempt. "I trust your fidelity, William, if not your reasoning and faith in trusting me!"

"I am not so sure my reasoning was flawed, considering your present irrationality."

She opened her mouth for a sharp retort and then clamped it shut as the partial truth of his softly spoken words penetrated her brain. Her eyes lowered and body relaxed into the solid door, finally releasing her tight grip on the knob. Not trusting her compliance completely, Darcy remained leaning into the door, sizeable frame dwarfing hers.

"How can a woman be so bold and... devious and immoral? Not that I cannot understand her excellent taste," she whispered, glancing up into his face. Her cheeks were ruddy, anger still evident by the fiery glints deep in her eyes.

"That is kind of you, Elizabeth. But I do not think such women are overly particular." He sighed. "I should have trusted you with the truth from the beginning, then we both could have avoided her and diverted this argument. You are justified to be vexed with me."

"Yes, I am vexed with you!" She flared anew, stalking past him to commence pacing and shooting daggers his direction. "And I am not overreacting in the slightest. Again and again she accosted you, these... advances occurring where anyone could have seen. And while I was pathetically unaware! You allowed me to pursue a friendship with her, knowing her character and what she had attempted with my husband. Do you not see what a fool this makes me? How she must be laughing at the stupid little girl? The pathetic child with the faithful husband who treats her as an infant."

"Do you honestly care what she thinks of you?"

"No! Yes! A little. That is not the point. Do you not see, William? Either what we have together is special and plainly revealed to all, or it is a lie. I
do
care what
you
think of me! No secrets, remember?"

"Yes," he whispered miserably.

"I am not a child. Nor a toy that you can play with and show off as your own personal property to protect and not treat with respect and equality."

"You know I do not think that," he began, but she continued as if he had not spoken.

"And why is it that you consider it your right to dash off risking your life to defend your claim and my honor, but I cannot do the same? Your possessiveness is not a mutually exclusive privilege, William. You belong to me as surely, and I am equally furious to think of another seducing what is mine! Yet, as offended as I am, what I cannot believe is that you would shield me in this way."

"Elizabeth, please, I am deeply sorry!"

"I know you are, William." She stopped pacing, suddenly weary and weak. "I also know you meant well, only wishing to spare me pain because of your love for me. I
am
naive in so many ways and perhaps not fully capable of handling such things. But I never will learn if you do not trust me! Your job as my husband is not to screen me from life so that I do not mature in wisdom."

They stood in silence, eyes downcast as they wrestled with thoughts and emotions. Darcy was ashamed, recognizing the truth of all her words although he could not honestly imagine relinquishing the fundamental need to protect her from all pain or harm. Lizzy was mainly tired, yet a vivid vision of ripping Lady Underwood's hair out lingered.

"Have there been other propositions?" She spoke quietly, staring at the floor.

He looked quickly to her averted face, shaking his head vigorously as he rapidly crossed to her. "No others since long before we were engaged, beloved. But it does not matter in any case." He reached to clasp her shoulders but was halted when she lifted fierce eyes.

"It matters to me! I need to know if there are other 'friends' of mine who have privately desired or even unashamedly attempted to make love to my husband." Her voice caught on the final words, tears springing to blazing eyes.

Darcy studied her with deep remorse and concern. Her countenance was yet smoldering with resentment but also quite pale and pinched. She looked so fatigued and drained. Overcome with guilt and with heart constricting, he lifted gentle fingertips to her wan cheek, caressing slowly.

"We cannot control what others may muse on, beloved. I, however, can and should control my actions with improved wisdom. I made a horrible mistake in doubting your understanding. Will you please pardon me?"

"You are twice the fool if you honestly fear I would not forgive you any misstep," she countered with some asperity.

And then with a weak smile she fell onto his chest, Darcy embracing her tenderly yet with steely strength. All night he held her close, dozing lightly as he preferred to gaze on her face in the moonlight, noting the ease relaxing her facial muscles and the increasing health filling her cheeks as she slept. In the darkest hours of the night, it was Lizzy who roused and reached for her drowsy husband, pulling his body and lips onto hers. They made love in the shadows, dreamily bonding and stimulating with remaining four senses leading and heightened.

It was while Darcy waited patiently for his wife to join him in their chamber to descend for breakfast that Lizzy slipped out a side door on a mission of her own. She had slept well and her heart was whole. She understood Darcy's reasoning for maintaining his silence, and she did appreciate the compassion that drove him even if she did not agree with the decision. Hopefully he now recognized the reality that honesty and full disclosure between them was essential, even at the risk of hurt feelings.

Lady Underwood was another matter. Her anger toward that lady had simmered all night even in her dreaming state. There was no excuse, in Lizzy's eyes, for a woman to act in such a way. There were plenty of unattached men in the world for her to fraternize with, as disgusting and immoral as even that activity was to Lizzy. Yet certainly better than enticing married gentlemen, especially after they made it perfectly clear they were uninterested. Depravity warped into pure evil when one considered her threats to Darcy and counterfeit amiability toward Lizzy. This was not a lonely woman seeking comfort and companionship. This was a wicked narcissist bent on destruction.

Lizzy's knock was answered by a maid who admitted Lizzy and exited to inform Lady Underwood she had a visitor. Lizzy waited, experiencing a strange detachment. All night, even in her sleep, she had imagined what she would say or do, never doubting for one second that she would not confront the so-called lady in some manner. Pistols or swords were out of the question, but she now better comprehended Darcy's need for retribution. With well-laid plans intact, she evaded her husband and now waited.

However, calmly conceived ideas dissipated as rapidly as smoke in a stiff breeze the moment Lady Underwood entered the room.

"Mrs. Darcy. What a delightful surprise to see you in my room so early in the morning." She was dressed for breakfast, her hair yet unstyled, the smile on her lips only partially hiding the curiosity and trepidation.

Instantly the fury of last evening poured through Lizzy, with vivid pictures of this creature touching her husband invading her mind. She lashed out with every ounce of the bizarrely extreme strength she possessed in her svelte body and delivered a stunning slap to Lady Underwood's left cheek. The stricken woman staggered and cried out in pain, gasping in shock.