A Peculiar Connection (38 page)

William stood waiting at the foot of the staircase as I descended, and I hoped he approved of my dress. The light in his eyes told me that the simple green gown pleased him. At the table, neither of us seemed to have much appetite, although the meal was deliciously prepared and elegantly served. I found myself partaking of more wine than food to the point that, when we rose from the table at the close of supper, I had to reach for the back of the chair to steady myself.

“You should have eaten more,” William whispered in my ear as he took my arm and guided me into the drawing room. My eyes widened when I heard myself giggle.

Where did that come from?

“Shall you play for me, dearest?” He gestured toward the instrument sitting prominently near the window.

“I fear that I should play even more poorly than usual tonight.” My eyes beseeched him not to insist, and he did not.

“Then, sit here by the fire while I provide the music.”

What? Has my husband kept his talent hidden from me all this time?

I could not believe Georgiana had failed to tell me that her brother was proficient on the pianoforte. Instead of walking toward the instrument, however, William rang the bell for the servant. Within moments, three men entered the room, walked to a far corner, and picked up a violin, bass fiddle, and cello. I smiled with delight when they began their serenade with the loveliest of songs.

William poured himself a snifter of brandy and then picked up the bottle of sherry with a questioning look in my direction. When I nodded, he smiled and brought me a glass before sitting close beside me on the sofa.

“Do you think of everything?” I asked, inclining my head toward the musicians.

“I want tonight to be perfect.”

“’Tis more than I have dreamed of.”

“I trust you will say that in the morning.”

His statement and the piercing look in his eyes made me drink the sherry far too quickly, for I drained the tiny glass in one gulp.

“Another?”

I nodded my head more than I needed to. “Please.”

He smiled again, rising to fetch me another drink. “I suggest you
sip
this one.”

“I will.” I nodded and took a sip, and from somewhere, another unfortunate giggle escaped.

William rose and held out his hands to me. “Will you do me the honour of dancing with me, Mrs. Darcy?”

“I…yes, of course.” I could not help but smile. “But how shall we dance with just the two of us?”

“I wish to teach you something new called the waltz.” He led me to the wide, open portion of the vast room, and after nodding at the musicians, he took me in his arms.

“William!” I was surprised at his boldness in front of others.

“This dance allows a somewhat shocking position, but one I consider perfect for dancing with my wife.”

The most beautiful music I had heard in a long time began. The romantic nature of the waltz proved enchanting. It did not take me long to follow William’s lead, and I loved how the three-quarter rhythm provided perfect timing for the steps of the dance. Secure in his strong arms, I felt like a princess in a fairy tale. Round and round he whirled me until I began to laugh aloud.

“Where did you learn this?” I asked at the end of the song.

“At a ball in Bath. A couple who had honeymooned in Vienna introduced it. Evidently, it is fashionable in Austria.” He signalled the musicians to begin again, and they commenced into yet another song in the same tempo.

“Once upon a time, I do recall hearing you declare that you did not care for dancing.” I gave him an arch smile. “Then, you surprise me with a reel in Ireland and now the newest of steps.”

“It all depends upon my partner. I detested being forced to lead around every mother’s daughter seeking a husband. But now that you are my own darling wife, I find I tolerate dancing fairly well.”

Just then, I stepped wrong and fell against him. He caught me and helped me to regain my footing. When he suggested that we sit down, however, I did not object, for by that time, the room was spinning. I reached for my glass of sherry as he guided me to the sofa.

“I suggest, my dear, that you forego the sherry for water from now until we retire.”

“If you wish, but sherry tastes better,” I said, giggling again.

He smiled and whispered in my ear. “Elizabeth, if I drink because we cannot marry and you drink because we can, how shall we ever make this union work?”

I leaned my head back and smiled up at him. “Seems a hopeless task to me.”

“Nothing is hopeless,” he growled. “Come with me.”

You must believe me when I tell you…my husband made it work.

][

As much as I found myself swept away by the enchantment of the night before—as exciting, enlightening, and somewhat surprising I found the marriage bed to be—awaking within my husband’s arms the following morning touched me so profoundly that I almost wept.

My head lay upon his chest. I took a breath and revelled anew in his delicious scent. My arm was thrown around his bare waist, and the warmth of his skin filled me with pleasure. He held me in a close embrace, his chin resting on my head. Oh, how I loved that man!

Stirring slightly, I raised my eyes to see whether he still slept. Instead, I was greeted with a smile.

“How long have you been awake?” I asked.

“Long enough to rejoice that I am not dreaming.”

“This is not a dream, is it?”

“It cannot be, for no dream feels as good as you.” He kissed my forehead, and I lowered my gaze, hoping he did not notice the mist in my eyes. Unfortunately, nothing escaped William.

He lifted my chin, and I saw his frown. “What is it, my love? What is wrong?”

“Nothing. I am simply overcome with happiness.”

“But you must not weep. Happiness does not create tears.”

“At times it does.” I raised myself enough to lean upon my elbow. “I wakened this morning feeling so safe, so wanted, so loved that I cannot find the words to convey what I mean. All I can say is that for the first time in more than a year, I feel as though I have come home. In your arms, I feel as though, at last, I am truly where I should be.”

“My only love, you are…you are exactly where you should be.”

He pulled me down into his embrace. We were content simply to hold each other for the longest time, marvelling at the unbelievable gift we had been granted in becoming man and wife.

][

Our accommodations for the second night of our journey were not as fine by any means, but it mattered little to either of us. The food did not compare to our wedding night feast; no musicians with strings entertained us, and the bed was by no means as soft as the former night’s. I tell you the truth—we could have slept in a barn as long as we slept together. I no longer needed the wine bottle to calm my nerves, for William had proved a patient and generous lover, and I found that I took to his guidance with exceptional speed. Now that I had been introduced to the delights of married love, my eagerness almost matched his.

We found that we were compatible not only in bed but out of it as well. Upon reaching Pemberley, I undertook my duties as mistress of that great house as though I had been born there. At times, I was astonished anew at the fact that, but for Sir Linton’s interference, I might have come into the world in one of those bedchambers.

William fascinated me with all that he knew about the history of our home, and I spent countless hours listening and learning from him. Wishing me to be acquainted with an outline of his estate duties, he introduced the basic tasks he attended in running Pemberley.

In the weeks to come, I was surprised to learn that William not only owned the vast lands surrounding Pemberley and his townhouse in London, but he also possessed a home in Ramsgate.

“It is but a cottage,” he said. “My father bought it so Mother could enjoy the benefits of summers by the sea. I should like to take you there if you have not had your fill of the ocean.”

I smiled and kissed his cheek. “By the summer months, I am quite certain I shall be glad to visit the sea again.”

“And would you welcome another ocean voyage?”

I was surprised he made that suggestion. “Perhaps.”

“Do you recall how narrow the beds were on board
The Falcon
?”

“I do,” I said, wondering why he asked such a curious question.

He pulled me onto his lap and began running his finger along the neckline of my gown. “I rather think I would enjoy sharing one of those beds with you.”

I laughed and played with his curls. “Would you now? For how long?”

“Oh, we could begin with at least a hundred years.”

][

We had resided at Pemberley as husband and wife for a little over a fortnight when William called me into his study one day. He said the post had come, and several letters in the stack were addressed to me. I recognized Jane’s script and that of Aunt Gardiner, but the third hand belonged to a stranger. Intrigued, I opened it to see Father Darcy’s signature, his writing obviously weak. He had dictated it to Father Rafferty as planned, but he made the effort to sign his name.

He hoped that we were married by the time his letter arrived, and his best wishes and prayers for our happiness made up most of the remainder.

You have filled my heart with joy that I never anticipated, Elizabeth. I am still amazed that I have fathered such a daughter.

Father Rafferty added a postscript wherein he stated that my father’s health declined daily. He doubted that he would live to see the new year. That statement saddened me, and I hastened to answer the letter.

Chapter Nineteen

After spending Christmas with Georgiana in London, we were to take her home with us to Pemberley the third week in January. I looked forward to our return because, although I enjoyed being in Town now that I was married, I still preferred country life in Derbyshire. Before we left, however, I told my husband that I wished to call upon Miss Willoughby.

“I would prefer to send a message asking her to call upon you, instead,” he said. “Have you any objection?”

I agreed, of course, for I had dreaded returning to that dreary house belonging to the baronet. My aunt replied soon after receiving the note, indicating that she accepted my invitation with pleasure. She was to call on Thursday next, but to our surprise, the visit occurred sooner than expected.

Late one night in the early part of that same week, we had been listening to Georgiana play for us when we heard a knock at the door. My husband rose, curious as to who might call at such an hour. Instead of a caller, he was surprised to see that a message had been delivered.

“Georgiana,” William said, upon reading the note the servant had brought in. “Would you excuse Elizabeth and me? It is late, and I believe it is past time for you to retire.”

I was surprised at William’s statement, for he rarely directed his younger sister as to when to go to her chamber. Gradually, he had begun treating her more like the young woman she had become. She frowned but did not question him. Instead, she rose from her chair and bade us good night.

“William, whatever is the matter?” I asked upon Georgiana’s removal from the room.

He took my hand, assisting me to rise from the sofa. “I did not wish for my sister to hear the contents of this note, for they are quite alarming.”

My eyes widened, fearing that one of my family had fallen ill.

“It is from Miss Willoughby.”

“Miss Willoughby! At this time of night?”

“Sir Linton is dead.”

My mouth flew open, but I could not think of anything to say.

“Elizabeth, he fell from the second floor and broke his neck.”

“Oh!” I leaned against him, for I suddenly felt faint. “We must go to her.”

William shook his head, leading me back to the sofa. “I shall go alone. She requests my assistance.”

“Do you not think that my presence would comfort her?”

He rang the bell for the servant. “I would not have you witness the scene. Naturally, the constable has been called, and there is much confusion. I prefer that you wait here. Are you well enough for me to leave you?”

I nodded. “I am well, but I would rather go with you. I do not like the idea of my aunt being alone at such a time.”

“If she is willing, I shall bring her home with me.” He kissed my forehead and then strode from the room.

Thus, it came about that my uncle died the same unspeakable death that he had proclaimed for my mother in the falsehood he told my father all those years ago. I shuddered at the thought that he fulfilled his own horrid prophecy.

Suffering from shock and grief, Miss Willoughby remained with us for more than a week while William made arrangements to bury Sir Linton. He also assisted her in meeting with her brother’s attorneys. My husband’s kindness increased my admiration of his fine character, for he was more than considerate of my aunt’s state.

There were no male heirs to inherit the Willoughby property. In truth, none of the three Willoughby children had offspring other than my mother. Sir Linton’s will directed that his property, such as it was, be left to his sister. William and I knew that Aunt Eleanor could not be content living in that decaying townhouse, so we encouraged her to visit us at Pemberley, which she agreed to do later in the year.

“I have so longed to see Bridesgate again,” she said one day as we stirred our cups of tea while sitting in the small parlour.

“Then, you shall, for we are acquainted with its tenant, Admiral Denison.”

“I have not lived there since I was but a child.”

“I hope it will provoke memories of more pleasant times.”

She reached out and took my hand. “Each time I look upon your face, my dear, I remember pleasant days, for I see my sister. Your presence lifts my spirits in a manner I thought had died long ago.”

I was surprised at her words, for in my mind, I could still hear Sir Linton’s accusations that I had ruined his family. My aunt had declared his charges untrue, and I had vowed to rid myself of that memory. Life had taught me, however, that some vows are difficult to keep. Hateful words linger with a pain that is not easily forgotten.