Page 46 of Leave Her Wild
“So, I was correct, you required a vessel for your lust!” she declared in triumph.
“Yes, I required a wife and the time to bring her to child,” he admitted. “Even if she produced a daughter instead of a son, a court might rule in my favor.”
“And so now you mean to switch your ‘affection’ from Jane to me?” she asked in a betrayal of mixed emotions.
“You know such is not true. I have wanted you from the first time we met, but I knew at age fifteen you would falter as Pemberley’s mistress and pursuing you would destroy you. I was the worst sort of man that particular evening because I did not defend you to my cousin and the others. We met on my first foray into society after my year of mourning for my father. I was frightened to fill my father’s shoes, and you . . .”
“Could not fill your mother’s slippers?” she accused. “Why do you believe I could fill them now? Why should I consider your professions of affection this time?”
“From the start of our acquaintance at the ball, I was a bad bargain. Even you would admit I was a . . . a . . . stiff-necked, prideful, selfish wretch caught in my own beliefs,” hestated. “I was not able to offer you the tender emotions a young girl would require during such a daunting experience of becoming the mistress of an estate more than tenfold larger than is Longbourn. The recrimination you have previously presented to me is well deserved, for I have done more harm to you than I ever dreamed possible.”
“I never wished you harm,” she said with a grin, “except perhaps being drawn and quartered.”
“And I would well deserve it.” He reached a hand to her, and she thankfully accepted it, but she still kept a bit of distance between them. “If you should wish me to leave you and return to Derbyshire to spare you the pain of . . .”
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“Oh no!” she exclaimed quickly, which was joyful to his heart, though she had moved no closer to him. She studied his features to know the truth of his words, as a myriad of emotions crossed his countenance. Finally, learning what she wanted to know, she began again, “It shall be torture, but, if you hold feelings for me at all . . . This is madness! Why cannot I simply walk away from you?” Elizabeth wished to be sangfroid, but her heart was beating wildly. She rolled her shoulders into place as if she prepared for war, but it was worse than war, for she must bare her soul to him if they were to go forward.
“When we first met, I developed what could only be termed as a ‘schoolgirl’stendre’ for you, one most would term as both frivolous and fleeting in nature, but, in truth, it was never that simple. In my mind, you became the standard by which I would be judged by others, as well as to judge other young men in their turn. I would ask not only why you never extended your approval to the likes of me, while knowing, deep down, you were correct. When another young gentleman approved too quickly, I would wonder why he was so easily pleased, and you were not? Why did he not see what was lacking as easily as had you?”
She swallowed hard and chose to be truthful. “Yet, the fact is I have been truly and deeply in love with you ever since I was old enough to understand what the word meant. It was always a mad and foolish thing to do, for my doing so could lead to nothing but heartache and pain, for I know . . .”
“You believe I do not love you?” he finished her denial with his own question. “It is a dashed bad thing when a man must attempt to woo one woman when it is her sister that stirs his blood. I felt those urges to possess you when we met years prior, just as I do now. I want nothing more than to take you into my arms and tell you that I love you, Elizabeth Bennet. Most ardently. I have actually loved you for some five years, but my damn pride has stood in the way. And I never wish to be parted from you from this day forward.”
He took a firmer grip on her hand and tugged her down to sit beside him to rest across his chest where he might finally kiss her. Soon Darcy found himself fisting her silky hair in his hands, as she fit so perfectly in his arms.
Finally coming up for air, he looked into her hazel eyes to say, “Elizabeth Bennet, I love you with all my heart. Please permit me to prove my devotion to you—only to you.”
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A knock at the door finally brought them apart, as she quickly stood again and turned away to hide how swollen he had left her lips. Mr. Thacker cautiously opened the door to say, “Pardon, Mr. Darcy. Lord Matlock has arrived.”
Elizabeth reached for her hair, which was now draped across her shoulders. “The earl cannot view me as such. What will he think of me?”
“That you are perfectly beautiful,” Darcy declared. “Thacker, you should be the first to know that Miss Elizabeth has agreed to be your new mistress.”
“Excellent, sir. Darcy House will experience great happiness with this turn of events.”
“You may speak to your uncle,” she said as she backed away. “Alone.” She turned and darted away.
“Send Hannah to assist Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy ordered with a smile of satisfaction, for bedding Miss Elizabeth would be pure perfection, something to which to look forward and, most assuredly, without the dread he had experienced when he thought upon his future with Miss Bennet. “And direct my uncle to my quarters.” With a smile of satisfaction, Darcy used his good arm to straighten the bedding across his lap.
In less than a minute, his uncle was saying, “What the devil, Darcy? Has this household gone batty? Why must I learn of this business secondhand? And what is going on downstairs? A woman who introduced herself as ‘Miss Bennet’ was holding hands with that Bingley fellow with whom you sometimes were known to associate.”
“Good,” Darcy said in response. “All is good, Uncle. Great, even. The best my life has been in years. Have a seat. Would you care for a drink or tea, my lord?”
“Too early for a drink and I tire of tea,” Matlock grumbled before he gestured to Mr. Thacker to leave the room. His lordship sat heavily in a nearby chair that Georgiana had placed close so they might talk when she called upon him. “Now speak, boy. Start with your injury.”
“I was shot by Mr. Wickham a bit over a week back. Your son has located Wickham in Newcastle and placed him under arrest. As Fitzwilliam is currently attending to his general’s wishes, when I finish my report, if you hold no objections, I wish for you to take control of Mr. Wickham’s trial and make certain it has as little fanfare as possible. I would be forever appreciative for your interference in the matter. As Wickham isnow a lieutenant in the Regulars, it will take the power of the earldom to see that my father’s godson knows justice.”
“Where is he being held?” his uncle asked with a nod of understanding.
“I was told at Middlesex.”
“And what do you wish for his disposition?” his uncle asked in equal seriousness.
“Truthfully, I wish him dead, but transportation with no hopes of return to the United Kingdom would be, not equally as satisfying, but acceptable, nonetheless,” Darcy stated. He appreciated how his uncle responded without a multitude of questions, but the one he asked went straight to the point.
