A Peculiar Connection (34 page)

At last, I decided to speak. “Mrs. Gardiner noticed your short temper with Georgiana today. She wished to know whether something was wrong.”

“And did you tell her?”

“What should I have told her?”

“That I am in a horrid mood because I cannot take you in my arms. That I find it more and more difficult to pass each day so near and yet so far from you.”

“Naturally, sir. That is exactly what I told her.”

He smiled. “None of your impertinence, miss, or I may kiss you right here in front of everyone.”

“William!”

“I am in pain, Elizabeth.”

“Pain?”

“For want of you.”

I looked up at him, wishing I could assuage his yearning. “You simply must not.”

“Have no fear. I will not touch you. See, my hands are before me. I do not even brush against you when you stand there as tempting as a goddess. But I can feel you…your warmth, your softness…every lovely bit of you.”

I could not speak, for his words of love caused that heat deep within to rise up and flood my senses. The way he looked at me and the ragged tone of his voice were so tender that he may as well have placed his hands upon me.

“Do you wonder how I know what you feel like?”

“I dare not ask.”

“Dreams…endless dreams. I have dreamt of you for nigh on to two years.”

“William…”

“I knew just how you would fit in my embrace—as though you were made for it—how the warmth of your silky skin would set me on fire and how the essence of your scent would remind me of everything good in this life. I have known these things since long before I could admit that I loved you, for you have haunted my dreams without mercy.”

I swallowed. “When did you first know that you loved me?”

He smiled. “I hardly know. I was in the middle before I had even begun.”

I could feel his eyes upon me as they moved from my hair, over my face, my lips, and down to my neck like a loving caress.

“How…how do you do that?”

“Do what?” he asked, smiling again.

“Make love to me with your eyes?”

“As easily as drawing breath.” He groaned and turned his back to the rail. “Oh, why does this blasted ship not give a sudden lurch and throw you into my arms again?”

“I found it very difficult being in your presence when we thought we were brother and sister.”

“Difficult! It was a wretched nightmare! And it went on and on and on. I thought I should never find the truth.”

“When did you doubt our relationship? What made you persist in this long, endless quest?”

“When did I doubt that I was your brother? Almost from the beginning. Oh, I tried to accept it. I struggled with everything in me, but I found it impossible.”

“Because of your father’s character?”

“Because I knew God could not play such a monstrous trick on us.” He indicated that we should walk, and we ambled slowly up and down the deck. “And yes, I refused to accept that my father could have been guilty of such dishonour, but even more, my stubborn will refused to believe I could never have you. My greatest fear was that Fitzwilliam or some other man would win your hand in marriage before I could find the truth.”

“So you were jealous?”

“What do you think?” He smiled down at me.

“I feared that you were seeking a wife, first at the Whitbys’ ball when you danced with Miss Denison and then when I saw Miss Simpson on your arm in Bath.”

“Diversions…nothing but diversions.”

“Poor Miss Simpson, to be called nothing more than a diversion. I fear you broke her heart.”

“Save your sympathy for someone else. Miss Simpson has a string of suitors, and she has broken more hearts than any other woman in Bath. She cared little more for me than I did for her, for she had set her cap on a titled conquest. If you wish to feel sorry for someone, you should feel sorry for me. I was forced to watch you dance with every man in the house at those blasted balls!”

That remark made me laugh. “I did not dance with every man, sir, but you certainly selected the most beautiful ladies.”

“I beg to differ, for at each ball, I desired most ardently to dance with the most beautiful woman there, but it was forbidden.”

He inclined his head so near, and the expression in his eyes was so filled with passion that it was all I could do not to lift my lips to his.

Suddenly, he placed his hand at my elbow and steered me toward the hatch. “Hang this ship and these seamen. I must kiss you, Elizabeth!”

As we reached the stairs, he told me to go below and step into the dining room. We could not descend at the same time lest it appear unseemly. I started to protest, but the look in his eye silenced me. That night, he was a man who would not be refused.

Inside the dining hall, I wondered at Mr. Darcy’s reasoning, for the wall adjoining the passageway contained four large windows. How might we find privacy therein? Some minutes passed before I saw him making his way down the hallway.

“Come,” he said. “Surely there is some hidden alcove in this room.”

I watched in wonder as, in the dark, he began to open doors to closets filled with supplies. At last, he pushed open a door and motioned to me. I joined him in the galley. I marvelled at how the ship’s cook managed to prepare meals in such tight quarters. Mr. Darcy bade me wait just inside the door while he scoured the area. I wondered how he could see his way without a candle.

“At last,” he said upon his return, “there is no one here. We are quite alone.”

He pulled me into his arms, and I felt my skin begin to burn in anticipation. Gently, he kissed my cheek, my ear, and my neck before finding my mouth. Over and over, he stroked my lips in teasing nibbles until I took his face between my hands and stilled him, making him truly kiss me. I felt engulfed by love for him, filled with passionate desire to merge us somehow together for all time. I understood what he meant when he said he could not hold me close enough, for I clung to him, never wanting his kisses to cease.

They did, however, when we heard a strangled sort of noise within the room. We froze in each other’s arms. He placed a finger to his lips and softly stepped away, shielding me with his body. It was nigh on to impossible to see any movement in the dark. After indicating that I should stay put, Mr. Darcy silently advanced further into the galley. The noise occurred again before he returned, and something about it sounded familiar. Within moments, he returned, placed his hand at my waist, and hurried us through the door back into the dining area.

“What was there?” I whispered. “It almost sounded like an animal.”

“A human animal.”

“Someone was there? Did he see us?”

Mr. Darcy shook his head. “He could not see anyone. It was the cook, sound asleep in a hammock at the end of the galley. The noise we heard was his snore.”

I began to giggle, not only at the circumstances but also at the pained expression I could hear in Mr. Darcy’s voice.

“I see nothing amusing about this, Elizabeth.”

“Forgive me,” I whispered, taking his hand. “It is just that you sound so disgusted.”

“Indeed. Shall I tell you how I feel?”

“I think I know. Let us say good night, William, before we are discovered.”

He sighed. “You are sensible, of course. Return to your cabin. I will wait until you have had time before I step into the passageway.”

Wistfully, I smiled at him. “I love you,” I whispered.

“That is my sole comfort.” He kissed my forehead and sent me from the room.

Chapter Seventeen

Upon reaching Holyhead, I thought Mrs. Annesley might kiss the ground beneath her feet. Once more, she had suffered from seasickness almost the entire voyage.

Fortunately, my aunt was spared the affliction this time. She told me privately that she suspected her illness on the trip to Dublin had been due to expecting a child all along. Nonetheless, she was more than relieved to reach land.

After securing lodgings for us, Mr. Darcy paid a call upon the office containing the mail packets heading for Ireland. That evening after dinner, he asked Mr. Gardiner and me to join him.

“I have a letter from my aunt in Bath.”

“Is something amiss?” Mr. Gardiner asked.

“Our former search through her husband’s journals and correspondence caused her to undertake a thorough cleaning of the library after my sister and I departed. While directing her servants to clear away stacks of old correspondence and other papers, she discovered a letter written by my father to his brother tucked inside Admiral Darcy’s prayer book. Mrs. Darcy said she never thought to look there, for her husband was not a religious man, and she rarely saw him open the book.”

He handed the wrinkled pages to my uncle. “Why not read it for yourself?”

Mr. Gardiner held the letter near the candle and cleared his throat.

15 July 1805
Derbyshire

Dear Henry,

I rejoice that you have found Peter. How I long to see the dear boy and hold him close once again! Of course, he is no longer a boy. Evidently, he has grown away from all of us more than in the geographic sense, especially in light of the calling he has embraced. I cannot say I approve or that the news pleases me. I, however, wish him well. His choice will not lessen my love for him. I am surprised to learn that Mother aided him in going to Ireland by discreetly laying by her own funds for his use.

You must not regret your decision to withhold knowledge of the child from him. I agree that it was for the best. She would be fourteen years old by now, and what would a Catholic priest do with a girl of that age? Besides, it would interrupt his life, calling for full explanations among his peers, perhaps even cause scandal in his parish, and all for naught, for what could he do for the lass? From what you say, he lives a life of sacrificial poverty—hardly a suitable means by which to offer support.

Yes, perchance we do have a moral responsibility to inform him that he is a parent, but, in my opinion, it would serve neither him nor the child well. According to Lady Margaret, when Peter disappeared, he believed his wife was dead, and none of them knew he had left the girl with child until months later. Knowledge that Elizabeth had been, in fact, alive at the time would only grieve him and impose a burden of guilt from which he might never recover. Nine months later, his wife truly was dead, so it is preferable to let things remain as they are—hidden and buried for all time.

I believe the child is better off growing up where she is. She will never know her connection to our house or to a singular priest living in a secluded village in Ireland. And why should she? I cannot imagine any need arising for her to have such knowledge.

Listen to my counsel, and put your mind at ease. You have taken the correct action.

Affectionately,

George

“So the brothers Darcy acted from noble intentions,” Mr. Gardiner said. “Fourteen years after the fact, they could see naught but harm resulting from their revelation of Elizabeth’s birth to Father Peter Darcy.”

“I find one sentence chilling,” Mr. Darcy said. “ʻI cannot imagine any need arising for her to have such knowledge.’ If my father had only known the turmoil his decision would cause years later.” He turned to me. “Elizabeth, have you nothing to say on the matter?”

I had sat down when my uncle ceased reading. “I hardly know what to say. It is all so strange…hearing people I have never met speak of my life and arranging things that would result in such far-reaching consequences. I feel as though they speak of some other girl, someone I never knew.”

“Lizzy, you are not going to be missish now, are you? I am sure neither Mr. Darcy nor I want this information to cause that.”

William sat down beside me. “Forgive me. I should have been more considerate. I never meant to give you greater pain.”

I shook my head. “Neither of you must fret over me. It is just that each time we uncover another piece of the puzzle, it—”

“It makes you sad,” he said softly.

“Not sad, simply overcome. At times, this situation still seems imaginary to me. Can you understand what I mean? I feel as though I stand at a distance, watching it happen to someone else. Oh, I do not know how to explain it.”

I rose and picked up the letter from the table where my uncle had placed it. I ran my hand over the lines on the paper, as though touching the words might make it real.

“I believe you are simply fatigued from the long journey, Lizzy,” my uncle said. “I suggest you retire early tonight. Perchance sleeping on dry ground will give you sounder rest and renew your spirits.”

He patted my arm and said he thought it time to join the ladies.

Mr. Darcy nodded, assuring him that we would be along in a few moments. As soon as Mr. Gardiner closed the door, William took my hand in his and lifted it to his lips.

“Dearest, it grieves me to see you like this. Would you rather that I refrain from sharing any further discovery with you?”

“What more is there to learn?”

“Once I deliver you safely to Longbourn, I plan to visit my barrister in London and then Lady Catherine. I shall also call upon Sir Linton Willoughby again and insist that he see me.”

“Oh, William! You promised you would not challenge him.”

“And I shall keep my word. That does not mean I shall not call him to account for his misdeeds.”

“What can that possibly accomplish?”

“It will give me satisfaction, my dear.”

“Is that so important? Should we not be grateful for the happiness we have found and let the past be?”

He led me back to the sofa and bade me sit beside him. “I am grateful. Believe me; no one is more grateful that you are mine and that we are to be married soon, but I shall deal with Willoughby. Do not attempt to dissuade me, for my mind is set on it.”

“And Lady Catherine?”

He pressed his lips together, and a scowl extended over his face.

“William, tread carefully. She is your aunt, and I would not have you break close family bonds on my account.”

“If I discover that she knew the truth and deliberately deceived us, she will be responsible for any rift it causes in our relationship. Elizabeth, you are everything to me. If my aunt cannot accept that, then she and I shall no longer meet.”