Christmas at Pemberley (14 page)

DARCY'S EYES OPENED to the first streaks of light working their way between the window shutters' slats. He inhaled his wife's sleep-seduced body as she burrowed deeper into him, seeking his heat as her own. Even during the warm summer months, Elizabeth woke in need of the day's heat; and from that first morning when they had awakened in each other's arms, Darcy had willingly provided it. Enjoying her softness along his body's length, he tightened his embrace. Elizabeth had invaded his dreams, haunted them, in fact, from the night of the Meryton assembly, the night he had first laid eyes on her.

He would wake in yearning, thinking of how it would be to fill his lungs with her scent and to know her taste on his tongue. Elizabeth's ardent spirit had ruined his life—the arrogant and presumptuous life he had led before meeting her: the dreadful time when he had simply existed, half-alive and half-dead. Sometimes, he had wished that he could explain how much she had changed everything he had known before her, how much joy Elizabeth brought him each day. He had even considered begging her to forego their having a child. If it meant losing Elizabeth, Darcy would rather not have an heir. Pemberley could pass to Georgiana's children.

A light knocking brought his senses fully alert. Easing Elizabeth away, Darcy unwrapped the blanket and sat on the bed's edge. Standing gingerly and testing his legs, he had taken several steps in the door's direction before he recalled the double occupancy. He
reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head and then cinched a robe over that.

Watching his step in the crowded room, Darcy made his way to the door. Opening it, he found Mrs. Washington and Nan holding ewers of hot water. “Morning, Sir,” the inn's proprietress whispered. “Brought ye fresh water.”

“Thank you, Ma'am,” he said huskily. “Put it on the table.” He gestured to a small side table along the wall.

“Breakfast be ready in half an hour, Sir,” she informed him.

“Mr. Joseph and I will be down soon, the ladies a bit later.” Darcy remained by the door. “How does the weather look?”

“Stopped raining. Now if we kin get some sunshine to help with the meltin', things might return to normal.” Mrs. Washington brushed a hair wisp under her cap.

Darcy had wanted to depart for Derbyshire. “What are the travel possibilities?”

“Mr. Washington say it'll not happen 'til the morrow, but ye kin sees for yerself when ye come down, Sir.” She turned to leave. “It be a good thing, Mr. Darcy. What ye and Mrs. Darcy did.” With a quick glance about the room, the woman disappeared into the dark hallway.With a disbelieving look of her own, Nan closely followed.

Darcy hefted one of the ewers and carried it to his side of the room. Pouring some water in a bowl, he undressed to the waist and washed as best he could. Then he lathered his face and finally lit a candle so he might see his reflection in a small mirror. Removing the razor from its case, he ran the edge along the whetstone to sharpen it.

“So handsome,” a husky whisper brought his attention to the bed's female figure.

Smiling broadly, Darcy teasingly leaned over her, pretending to want to kiss Elizabeth while spreading the lather from his face to hers. “Morning, Love,” he whispered seductively.

“No!” she gasped on an inhalation and shoved hard against his
bare chest. “You cannot, Fitzwilliam.” She pulled the blanket over her head, further muffling her words of protest.

Darcy gently wrestled the linens from her hands. Leaning over her and pressing his weight across Elizabeth's body, he lovingly caught her hands and brought them to rest above his heart. “I could.” He draped himself closer. “But I would not.” He paused to give her time to stop squirming. “If you promise me your loyalty.” He shielded his words from the Josephs.

Elizabeth quieted before staring deeply into his eyes. “I'm far from devoid of proper feelings where you're concerned, Mr. Darcy. I love you to distraction.”

Darcy stroked her cheek. “My heart beats out a love staccato—one bearing your name, Lizzy.”

A hushed conversation from the partition's other side told him that the Josephs also stirred. He released Elizabeth and sat on the bed's edge. Taking a steadying breath, Darcy spoke loud enough for all to hear. “Mr. Joseph, if you'll see to the fire, I'll light the candles. Mrs. Washington has brought hot water. I suggest we dress and go down to breakfast. Then the ladies can see to their needs and follow us.”

From the screen's other side, he heard the stirrings come to life. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I'll inform you when I've completed my ablutions.”

“Perhaps we can assess the road conditions ourselves.” Darcy reached again for the razor and adjusted the small mirror. Making the first swath, he added, “Mr. Washington doesn't hold out much hope, but I'd prefer to draw my own conclusions.”

“Good morning, Edward,” Georgiana said from her place at the table's head. She'd purposely arisen early because she knew her cousin would be one of the first to breakfast. Her eyes followed his movement. For nearly three years, Georgiana had pined after the man. Edward Fitzwilliam had offered her comfort when she'd foolishly
considered an elopement with George Wickham. Along with her brother, the colonel served as her guardian. He had, over the years, read her bedtime stories and tended to childhood injuries.

However, the incident with Mr. Wickham had changed everything. She'd learned, despite her naiveté, some very hard lessons, and Edward had guided her every step. Because of him, she'd allowed her shame to fall away. As proof, Georgiana would offer her ability to converse with Kitty about Lydia Wickham's marriage without fighting the fear of someone else knowing of her earlier insensibility.

“Good morning, my dear.” Edward bent to kiss her cheek. “You're up early.”

“I keep country hours,” she countered.

The colonel began to fill a plate from the covered dishes. “I wanted to inspect the roads to see whether it would be safe to send a messenger to the Earl regarding my return.”

Georgiana's gaze followed his shoulder's line to his narrow waist, which the cut of his uniform emphasized. His familiar form looked leaner, but there was nothing wrong with the colonel's appearance. At age one and thirty, he'd now served in the British military for a decade. During those years of service, she'd stood silently cheering his successes as he neared his career's pinnacle. But while the colonel saw to his duty in the American war, Georgiana had taken a vow that if he returned home safely, she'd no longer remain silent.

Edward came to the table with a plate heaped high with eggs, bacon, and kippers. He speared one and inspected it. “Thank God for British food, at last.” He took a hefty bite.

“You've lost weight, Edward.”

“I plan to allow your brother's generosity to add a few pounds to my frame.”

Georgiana breathed easier. She'd worried whether he might rush off to William's Wood. “Then you'll remain with us for a few days? I'd enjoy that very much.”

He smiled lovingly at her and reached for her hand. “You
didn't think I'd leave you alone with Lady Catherine in residence? With Darcy away, our aunt will take advantage. Even after Darcy's return, I'll tarry a few days.Your brother isn't likely to be of a mind to accept an invasion of his marital bliss.”

She interlaced her fingers with his. “Although I truly welcome your presence in dealing with Her Ladyship's demands, I pray that Pemberley offers other inducements.” Georgiana slid her hand up his sleeve. “You were missed, Edward—more than words may express. You were always in my prayers.”

Georgiana noted the exact second her cousin's demeanor changed. He said nothing out of the ordinary, but she heard the hitch in Edward's breathing. It matched hers. A frown graced his forehead. As if he were unsure what had just happened, the colonel said, “I thought of you always. Ask the lieutenant. He'll tell you that I've sung your praises on two continents.”

She slowly removed her hand and returned it to her lap. “What more could a lady request of a man she admires?” she asked with a bit of amusement when his eyes followed her hand. “To be spoken of…to have her name on his lips.”

“There you are, Elizabeth.” Darcy stood to greet her. He took her hand and brought it to his lips.

“Mrs. Joseph and I took a few moments to reorganize the room. I apologize if we kept you waiting.” She smiled glowingly at him.

Darcy wouldn't criticize. Despite a few dark shadows under her eyes, his wife appeared happy. He wondered what it was about Mrs. Joseph that gave Elizabeth a sense of calm. Whatever it was, Darcy would foster the relationship. “We've ordered breakfast.” He seated her beside him.

“I'm ready to break my fast,” Mrs. Joseph boldly declared. “I kindly tell Mr. Joseph that eating for two is a tiring occupation.” The woman accepted her husband's assistance.

Mr. Joseph braced his wife's weight. “This journey's been difficult for you, my dear. We should've thought better of it.”

“Mother Joseph is ill,” she explained. “We could do nothing else. Our consciences demanded it. I don't regret any discomfort we've experienced.” She smiled sweetly at her husband. “We must think of it as an adventure.” Mrs. Joseph laughed lightly. “Besides, we've made the acquaintance of the Darcys, and I, for one, cannot imagine how our journey would have been without them.We'd be picking straw from our hair and worse without their charity.”

Resigning himself to her logic, Joseph sighed deeply. “I was quite warm last evening—a much better situation than I expected when Mr. Washington announced a lack of rooms.”

“Then let's learn of our new friends, Matthew. I want to genuinely call Mr. and Mrs. Darcy by that designation.”

“Miss De Bourgh.” Southland bowed from the library's entrance. “I beg your pardon. Mr. Nathan said I might find the colonel here.”

Anne De Bourgh looked up tentatively. “I believe my cousin planned to check the road conditions. He'll return shortly.”

The man eyed her with an interest Anne rarely experienced. He actually appeared to seek a conversation with her. “Would I be disturbing you, Miss, if I waited with you for the colonel's return?”

Anne shot a quick glance at her long-time companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, and with a nod, the lady silently agreed. Swallowing her initial shyness, Anne managed, “Certainly, Lieutenant. Would you care for tea?” She gestured to the pot on a nearby serving table. As he slowly approached the chair where she remained seated, Anne fought for composure. She couldn't remember the last time a gentleman had sought her company.

“That would be quite pleasant, Miss De Bourgh.” He took the seat across from her. “Dark English tea was one of the things I missed the most while serving in America. People do not brew a proper cup of tea anywhere but on our shores.”