Darcy's Temptation (23 page)

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Authors: Regina Jeffers

BOOK: Darcy's Temptation
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Ten days passed since Elizabeth received word of Darcy's attack. Mr. Howard returned from Hemswell, but no news of Fitzwilliam Darcy followed. No one saw him, and no one knew of his whereabouts.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Darcy,” he stumbled across the words with feelings of inadequacy.“I searched a ten-mile area around where we found Mr. Darcy's coach. I found people who took the wheels, the metal trim, and the seating cushions, but I do not believe any of them knew of Mr. Darcy. They all were poor peasants who simply took what they could from an abandoned coach.”
“Mr. Howard, you did all you could.” Elizabeth offered him forgiveness for failing in his journey. “At least, we know Mr. Darcy is alive somewhere.”
“If you say so, Madam.” Mr. Howard tried not to give her false hope.
“I say so.” Elizabeth gave him a warning look. She would accept no negative thoughts when it came to her husband's life.
Each day, Elizabeth and Georgiana visited the tenants. The time Elizabeth spent in the poorer homes gave her a sense of comfort; her efforts would make Darcy proud. She and Georgiana took charitable baskets of food and assorted supplies.The foundation they established at the Christmastime celebration made it easier for the tenants to welcome them. Most knew of Mr. Darcy's disappearance, but the fact both Mrs. Darcy and Miss Darcy still made their duty calls told the tenants Pemberley would continue even if the Master did not return.
“I promised Fitzwilliam I would keep Pemberley alive.” She and Georgiana traveled back to the estate's main house. “It is one of his
passions
; I cannot let it die.”
“Elizabeth,” Georgiana said, her eyes misting over, “I am so frightened.”
“I cannot tell you the last time I dreamed.” Elizabeth spoke to the air, not looking at anyone.“When Fitzwilliam first left, I dreamed of him each night; it gave me solace.Yet, since the day I dreamed of his pain and later his peacefulness, I cannot bring an image of his face to my dreams. It is as if Fitzwilliam Darcy ceased to exist—where did he go, Georgiana?”
Georgiana began to sob, and Elizabeth took the girl in her arms again. “Elizabeth, if my brother is well, he will come back to us.We have to believe that.”The sobs racked the girl's shoulders.
“I stand for hours in the gallery looking at his portrait; I pray to have Fitzwilliam home again—no matter what the circumstance,” Elizabeth nearly pleaded.
“My brother would say beware the prayer the devil answers.” Georgiana tried to tease to break their somber mood.
“There could be nothing worse for me than living my life without Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth could not give up the longing so quickly. “He had a plan for you and me to live out our days at Pemberley.The child I carry will inherit this estate, and I will not let your brother's dream for Pemberley die.”
“Elizabeth.” Georgiana bit her bottom lip. “Shall you ever forgive me?”
Elizabeth looked shocked.“Forgive you—for what?”
“If I showed no interest in Mr. Harrison, my brother would not have gone to Hull to learn how to protect me. I promise to never see Mr. Harrison again!”
“Oh, Georgiana, you did nothing wrong!” Elizabeth hugged Darcy's sister again.“If it were not this situation, something else would take him away. It is part of our journey. I seriously believe that.”
“Do you?” Georgiana gasped.
Elizabeth tilted the girl's chin so she could look directly in her eyes. “Your brother loves us; he will come home to us. As far as Mr. Harrison goes, let both your head and your heart decide. Do not blame him for what happened to Fitzwilliam.”
“What would I do without you in my life, Elizabeth? Thank God Fitzwilliam gave me you.”
 
Another week passed; Elizabeth went through the motions of normalcy. She addressed the books each day with Mr. Howard; she rode out regularly with Georgiana to make tenant visits; she approved Kitty's renovations to the nursery.These were all things she would do if Darcy were home. She summoned her mantle of confidence as she went about her duties as the Mistress of Pemberley.
Elizabeth's charitable activities included the new village school. Along with Mr. Ashford and Kitty's help, she chose books from Darcy's library to be donated for the school's use. “Kitty, please write to Papa later today and ask him for some of our old schoolbooks and the books we read as young girls. If he will send them, I will have staff go to Longbourn to bring them here.” Elizabeth handed her younger sister a book for the donations.
“Oh, yes, we have so many books at our home, Mr.Ashford.”
Ashford asked,“Your father is a reader, then?”
Elizabeth began to laugh. “Our father, Mr. Ashford, could enter his library and never come out again if not for the demands of society.”
Georgiana entered with books of her own. “Here is a copy of Goldsmith's
The Vicar of Wakefield
and Mrs. Radcliffe's
The Romance of the Forest
and
The Children of the Abbey
. Of course, some people may not approve of Mrs. Radcliffe's offerings,” she teased. Georgiana added her contribution to the stack of books.
Elizabeth picked up the Goldsmith book and fingered it delicately.“Is there something wrong, Elizabeth?” Kitty asked.
Elizabeth's eyes welled with tears. “We talked about those books, Georgiana, the day my aunt and I came here for tea. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were here. Do you remember?” Elizabeth took a seat, unable to stand any longer.
Georgiana came and knelt in front of her. “Of course, I remember. You protected me from Miss Bingley; you were everything Fitzwilliam promised me you would be.”
“We went into the conservatory; I chose the yellow boxwood rose.” Elizabeth's voice seemed distant.
“My mother's favorite plant.” Georgiana swallowed hard.
“Do you know Fitzwilliam brought every yellow rosebud from the conservatory to Kensington Place for our wedding night?” Tears streamed down her face. “In the conservatory I told him yellow was my favorite color of flowers, and although some say yellow represents jealousy, I believe it demonstrates a constancy of spirit—like the sun, it lasts forever. I preserved some of those roses in the books at Kensington Place.” Elizabeth broke down,“How can I go on without him?”
“We are all together; you do not have to be without Fitzwilliam. He lives within you; your child will keep my brother alive for us until he comes home again.” Elizabeth allowed Georgiana to take her to her room; the girl offered endearments along the way.
Mr. Ashford looked at Kitty; she, too, cried. Immediately, he was in front of her. “Do not be sad, my loveliest Katherine. I cannot bear it.”
“What if Mr. Darcy never comes home?”
The man pulled her to him so Kitty could rest her head on his chest. “It is a quandary, and although initially I thought there was little hope, I believe Mr. Darcy will come home to Pemberley. There is too much love for him in this house for God to allow Mr. Darcy to never return.”
“Do you really believe this?” Kitty's voice came out small.
“Great loves never die, my Katherine.” He stroked the back of her head. “Your sister and Mr. Darcy have a great love.” He lifted her chin to look deeply in Kitty's eyes. “Some day we will write the story of our own great love.”
Kitty wanted him to kiss her again, but he already broke with propriety by taking her into his arms. Instead, Mr.Ashford slowly traced her jaw line with the back of his hand before releasing her. “Come, Miss Bennet.” He briefly took her hand to lead her outside.“I am in need of a walk in the garden.”
“I think I would prefer seeing the boxwood rose in the conservatory,” she teased.
Ashford stopped short and turned back to her; a smile overspread his face.“Any flower which so inspires love is definitely to be seen.”
 
“Mrs. Darcy, I am sorry to disturb you,” Mr. Howard called as he entered the study.
“What may I address for you, Mr. Howard?” The stress of her deprivation became more obvious the last few days.
“Some of the tenants are stirring up trouble. With Mr. Darcy gone, some want to return to the old ways of planting. They are gathering at the Jefferson farm. What do you want me to do?” Mr. Howard fidgeted with his hat.
Elizabeth came around the desk. “Tell Mr. Shepherd to
hitch up the small coach; I will go with you to Jefferson's. I am in no mood to hear their complaints today.”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.” Then the man was gone.
 
“If the Darcys want to be fixin' with the crops, let them come here and do it themself.” Jefferson spoke loudly so all could hear.
Unfortunately, about that time Elizabeth stepped around the corner of the building. “I am here, Mr. Jefferson. It seems you have a complaint you wish to address.”
Jefferson scooped the hat from his head as a sign of respect, but he did not back down. “I be beggin' your pardon, Mrs. Darcy, but my complaint lies with Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy is not here, and I am, so your complaint is mine to address.” Elizabeth came forward to face the man.
“We be thinkin' the four-crop rotation be a waste of land.” Jefferson could not back down in front of his friends.
Elizabeth knew what happened in the next few minutes would affect how Darcy's plan for his estate would be fulfilled; she chose her words carefully. “My husband is a learned man. You who have been on the estate for years know him to be as kind as he is intelligent. He rejoices at the birth of each new baby and grieves at the loss of each passing. He loves this estate. It is more than his ancestral home; it is his passion—his compulsion. He loves this land enough to suffer the censure of society to teach both his sister and me how to run the estate. He does not just want the knowledge of a future heir to the land to be his only hold on it. Mr. Darcy traveled all the way to Scotland to learn about the best way to save the land from depletion. The four-crop rotation is successful elsewhere, and it will be successful here. However, Mr. Jefferson, if you so object, we will release you from the obligation you have to this estate, but please understand if you choose to leave, you may
never
return. I will not help those who do not believe in my husband's dream for Pemberley. I will gladly divide your land among
your neighbors. So, what will it be, Mr. Jefferson?” Elizabeth stepped in closer as she knew Darcy would to make a point.
Jefferson began to fidget under her stare, and Elizabeth fought back a smile of triumph. “Well, Mrs. Darcy, we meant nothin' by it.We just want to be sure we be havin' a home.”
“Mr. Darcy's heir is on its way. Pemberley is growing stronger each day. If you believe in my husband's dream for Pemberley, then follow Mr. Howard's orders. If not, tell Mr. Howard, pack your things, and leave the estate forever. Mr. Darcy's dream lies in this land and this child, and I will broker no complaints in those areas.” Elizabeth turned on her heels and left the men mumbling apologies as she left.
Once they returned to the coach, Elizabeth let out the breath she held. “You were brilliant, Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Howard gushed in admiration.
Elizabeth slumped back against the coach's seat. “I wish Fitzwilliam was here. He would know how to handle these things so much better than I.”
“You are wrong, Mrs. Darcy; you did exactly what Mr. Darcy would have done. He would be proud of how you took on this task.When he first shared his plan, I scoffed, but Mr. Darcy knew you were the right person for this estate. Pemberley lives through you, and I do not just speak of the heir you carry.”
Elizabeth blushed at his words. “I hope you are right, Mr. Howard.”
 
Elizabeth decided to take tea in the lower drawing room. She sat with her feet propped up on a hammock; no one else came into the room, and, in a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep. Unusual for her, a nap came as the confrontation with Jefferson drained her of her energies.
 
Elizabeth knew he waited for her. Compelled, she slipped carefully out of the bed she shared with her eldest sister, Jane. Grabbing her pelisse,
she crept quietly down the stairs, unlatched the door, and hurried through the mist surrounding Longbourn. She cut across the open field and entered the tree line leading to the hill behind the estate. The morning mist rose slowly, and she felt as if she walked through a cloud. Why she came she knew not, except Elizabeth knew Darcy waited for her—needed her—loved her.
Then a familiar figure filled her senses. Darcy turned to pick up Cerberus's reins and began to mount. He wore his breeches, an open-neck shirt, boots, and a greatcoat. Elizabeth felt her heart flutter with anticipation. She loved this man with every ounce of being in her body. He turned at the sound of her approach, and their eyes locked, peering into each other's souls. As if in a trance, they moved forward; only a lover's embrace could satisfy their needs.Without a word, Darcy encircled her with his arms, clasping her to his body; she felt his warmth radiating through her, filling her with the love only he could give.The sun danced behind them as he whispered her name into her hair,“Elizabeth.”
“Fitzwilliam.” She laid her hand upon his chest and welcomed his nearness. Their hearts beat wildly as they envisioned the happiness awaiting them.
“Dearest Elizabeth,” he said, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
She nibbled on his lower lip.“I could ask you likewise, Sir.”
“I could find no sleep for images of you. I sought my release by riding here to assure myself this was not a dream, and I find a living, breathing Elizabeth.”

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