Compulsively Mr. Darcy (21 page)

Almost reflexively, she grabbed his hand back.

They both stared down at their joined hands. The rough, reddened cracks in his hand embarrassed him. He tried to pull his hand away again but she tightened her hold.

“William,” she whispered. She took his other hand and folded both together in hers. Leaning forward, she kissed his reddened fingers and palms. Gently, she laid her cheek atop their joined hands.

“Lizzy.” He rested his own cheek against her head and pressed his lips to her hair. Inhaling a deep, nourishing breath, he took in the familiar fragrance of her gardenia scent. “But I did, hurt you, I know.”

Her head swayed as if denying his words, but she stayed silent.

“I should have trusted in your love for me. You gave yourself so generously to me, your heart and… everything, and I was afraid.”

“You were?”

“I was afraid you'd discovered I was unworthy of you. I used to stare at you when you slept, fearful you were a figment, and you'd disappear in the morning.”

“Oh, William.” Tearfully, she kissed his knuckles. “I'm so sorry I did disappear.”

Though her tears stung the cracks in his hands, he welcomed the soothing pain. “I don't blame you, love. You didn't trust me not to hurt you, and I didn't trust you not to hurt me.” He paused and lifted his head. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Yes.”

The way she had said the word without any hesitation humbled him. “I love you so much, Lizzy. I don't think I had allowed myself to love until you came into my life. You got through my defenses so easily, I was scared. I had never met, nor wanted, nor needed any one person so much until you.” He blinked rapidly and turned away until he controlled himself. “I didn't, and still don't, know how to be in a relationship.”

“Me either,” she reminded him. “I've also never been in a real relationship.”

“You asked so little of me. You didn't need my money… my name…”

“But I do need you.” Her hands gripped his fingers tight. “Just you.”

“When you left, I thought you had finally figured out how lacking I was as a partner, just as I had feared and expected. But you left because you were hurt—”

“No, no, you mustn't blame yourself.” She touched his face. “I should have been brave enough to stay and talk to you.”

“You were afraid to talk to me?”

“Yes. We were both afraid, William. Now, I want to talk about why I left so suddenly… ask you questions I was afraid to ask then, okay?”

He nodded. They heard noises from beyond the door. “I don't want to keep your sisters from their room. Could we go somewhere else to talk?”

“Let's go to your room.” She reached into her toiletry bag for a small tube of something and put it in her pocket before pulling a large T-shirt on over her leather top. Taking his hand, she led him out into the small sitting room.

“Elizabeth, Caroline Bingley is marrying…” Darcy paused. They had left the others and were now on their way to his room.

“She's marrying my gay ex-boyfriend.” She tugged his hand, urging him to keep up. “Funny, huh?”

“Does she know?”

“Hussein told me when he revealed his last relationship was with a man, and the one before that and so on, her response was he hadn't met the right woman yet and everyone experimented. And she didn't want to talk about icky intimate stuff.”

He shook his head. “Sounds like Caroline.”

“I'm a bit concerned about leaving Richard and Charles with him,” she said. “I hope he doesn't make a pass at them. He likes blonds.”

His lips twitched. “Richard was expecting strippers.”

“I can't believe Mary's been running interference because she thought you were abusive to me.”

“She doesn't know me. She's only being protective.”

“I need to talk to her about making snap judgments without hearing all the facts. She should have at least talked to me before she acted. Why are you smiling?”

“No reason,” he said, amused at her lack of self-irony.

“I'm glad you find some humor in Mary's interference.”

“All your sisters have my permission and my undying gratitude to make sure no one, including me, ever harms you.”

They approached the wing where his suite was. She stopped at the entrance and explored a birds of paradise plant, lightly running her hand down its stem and examining the orange bud.

“We could walk around a bit more,” he offered.

“No, I'm tired.”

She seemed to always have a boundless amount of energy, so her fatigue now worried him. As soon as he opened the door to his room, she went straight to the bed and crawled into it. “I'm sorry, it's been a long day with the wedding activities.”

“Perhaps you should rest now.”

“I'll rest after we've talked. Come.” She patted the bed and pulled a small tube out of her pocket. “I want to put this on your hands.” When he settled himself next to her, she reached for his right hand and dabbed a smear of cream on it. “Tell me if it stings.”

Gently, she massaged the cream onto the small cracks of his knuckles. She then did the same to the other hand. He stared at her bent head while she carefully examined his hands.

“There, that should help your hands heal. We have to make sure to get you the gentle cleansing soap for when you wash your hands.” She looked up. “William? Are you okay?”

He knew he should be embarrassed that his eyes had brimmed with tears, but he couldn't look away.

Her own eyes blinking rapidly, she caressed his face. “I used to wonder why you stared at me so… in the middle of the night.”

He took a breath and began, “You have questions for me?”

“You aren't secretly engaged to Anne, are you?”

Despite himself, he smiled at her direct question. “No, that's my aunt's delusion. That's why you left, wasn't it? Did she tell you that?”

He had known his aunt was involved, yet when Elizabeth confirmed it with a nod, a fresh wave of rage surged through him, some of it at Catherine but mostly at himself.

Elizabeth lay down and urged him to do the same. When he stretched out next to her, she stroked his chest. Soothed by her caress, the tenseness gradually left him. In a tender voice, she said, “Tell me about your aunt. What's your relationship with her?”

“Before my father died, he asked me to watch over my sister and my aunt.” He stared at the ceiling. “I've always found Catherine a rather difficult person to deal with. Immediately, we fought over custody of my sister. I admit I wasn't the best person to be a young child's guardian then, and Catherine knew it. We finally managed to come to a truce. For Georgiana's sake, I've tried to humor my aunt with duty visits, her birthday dinners and so forth, and ignore her odd obsessions and her attempts to intrude and run our lives. It became a habit to avoid confronting her directly.” He met her eyes. “Now you know how weak a man I am.”

The soft pads of her fingers gently tapped his chest. “No, love. You're not weak, just… loyal. Your father did ask you to care for her.”

“I didn't introduce you because I was waiting for the right time to deal with her delusion about my marrying Anne. I knew she wouldn't take it well, and I wasn't looking forward to the big fight. I should have told her, though, for it cost me you.”

“William”—her fingers stilled—“I thought you didn't care enough about me to introduce me. From your emotional reaction about her birthday dinner, I thought that she meant a lot to you, that you wanted her approval… and that you were ashamed of me.”

He stared at her for a few seconds before he closed his eyes and grieved for the time they had lost. “How did we both come to misunderstand each other so much in New York? I was not ashamed of you, but of me; I was afraid meeting my aunt and dealing with her craziness would be another strike against me, more baggage.”

“Why do you think you need to be perfect for me to love and marry you? You thought I would hold a crazy aunt against you? Did you have so little trust in my love?”

He stayed silent, not knowing how to answer her.

“All along, you really expected me to disappear somehow, sometime, didn't you?” she said. “That's why you didn't come after me.”

“Your leaving proved my fear had come true,” he admitted. “I wanted to so badly go after you, Lizzy. Many times, I had the jet ready to fly to wherever you were, but then I would remember the phone call and you…”

“And I asked you specifically not to follow me,” she finished. “I'm so sorry, William. I was so upset that day. I regretted that so many times. Then, I thought you felt I wasn't worth it when you never came after me.”

“Far from it,” he paused, unable to get the words past his throat, remembering the pain of his yearning for her.

“I do know differently now.” She took hold of his hands and softly kissed them again. “The state of your hands tells me you cared.”

It came to him at that moment: this was what being loved and accepted felt like. His anxious habit had always been a source of shame and stress for him, but now, he saw cracked hands also heal. “I don't remember if I have always washed my hands, even when I was anxious and nervous as a child. I do remember that I was a difficult child. I didn't warm up to people very easily, or they to me.”

“That's not true,” she protested. “I liked you right away. I fell in love with you immediately.”

He smiled at that. “My father, and a few others, had a difficult time with me, I remember that. But not my mother. After she died, I thought that no one would ever love and accept me so unconditionally or so unreservedly ever again… and I was afraid to completely trust or believe in your love for me.”

“I didn't leave because you weren't perfect. I left because I was not perfect. I was scared myself.”

“I guess we both were in the same state then.”

She nodded. “We both were insecure about each other. We got together so quickly and came to love each other just as quickly. I think trust needs time to build, though.”

“What else did Aunt Catherine say to make you leave?” His aunt had refused to tell him the details when he confronted her. Judging from the way Elizabeth now tensed in response to his question, he knew it was more than his aunt's obsession about him marrying Anne. “Richard suspected Catherine might have said something about the other women.”

She met his eyes then turned to stare at the ceiling.

“Did she mention the penthouse and the women?”

Instead of answering, she put her hand over her eyes. He turned to fully face her and waited. Finally, she lifted up her hand. At the hurt in her eyes, he swallowed and collapsed back down on the bed. He too stared at the ceiling and tried to gather his thoughts and his words.

How could he tell her how ashamed he was? How could he admit to her that he had used other women, used their fascination with his looks, his wealth, and his position to take advantage of the brief moments of pleasure in their bodies, never caring how they really felt about him or how he had felt about them? He was no better than Wickham. That was why he never wanted to tell her about his previous life. How could he tell the one and only woman he loved how worthless a man he really was?

She, on the other hand, was pure in both body and heart. She gave herself to him only because she loved him—and what a gift that was, her selfless love. Each time he was in her body, he had gloried in the knowledge that he alone had the privilege, alone was the recipient of her precious gift. How could he tell her how unworthy he had felt to receive such a gift? He wished he had come to her a better man, but he hadn't expected someone like her to exist at all, much less love him so unselfishly.

He didn't know how to say all that coherently, but he tried. He must have expressed himself eloquently enough. The hurt left her eyes. She moved closer and buried her face against his neck. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight against his heart.

“You expect too much of yourself. You're only human, my love.” They lay like that without speaking for a time before she spoke again. “Now tell me about Anne.”

“I knew she was a little infatuated with me when we were teenagers. Soon after, Catherine started her obsession about Anne and me marrying.”

“That must have been very uncomfortable.”

“It was,” he acknowledged, “and I've always tried to maintain a distance between us. I hired her at my aunt's request. It appeased Catherine enough to leave the issue of Georgiana's custody alone. Anne has proven herself very capable in business matters; otherwise she wouldn't have lasted at DDF.”

“You guys never really dated? Went out?”

He barely managed to suppress a shudder. “No. Trust me, she's not my type. I thought she was as uncomfortable as I was about my aunt's matchmaking…”

“You thought? You don't think that anymore?”

“Richard and Georgiana both think Anne's not opposed to what Catherine wants.”

She laughed. “You look like a nine-year-old boy who just learned some icky girl likes him in
that
disgusting way.”

He smiled, glad she could laugh about it. “I've finally accepted Richard and my sister can be more astute than I am on many things.”

“I'm sure they loved hearing that.”

“Catherine used PTF to pressure the hospital not to hire you. The hospital denied it, of course; nevertheless, they lost the grant.”

Her smile disappeared. “I'm sorry. I thought it was you. I thought you were going to break up with me sooner or later and you didn't want me to get too settled.”

He sat up and stared down at her. “How could—”

“I'm sorry.”

“Shhh, it's okay,” he soothed when tears filled her eyes again. “You have to promise me, before you make any conclusions about me or us, you'll talk to me.”

“I promise.” She wiped her eyes. “But you have to talk more too. I can't read minds. You didn't tell me about your aunt or Anne. I can't ask questions if I don't know what I don't know.”

“I promise to talk more,” he said. “Anne denied knowing what Catherine was doing with the hospital and you, but I don't buy it, and neither does Richard.”

“Why?”

“Catherine should not have any influence on the foundation's grant process at all. If Anne can't keep her stepmother out of it, then she can't be in charge of it.”

“It seems rather unfair to blame Anne if your aunt was the one responsible. You yourself have trouble confronting your own aunt.”

“Not anymore. I made it clear to both Catherine and Anne that even if I hadn't met you, I would never have considered marrying Anne, under any circumstances.”

“And how did that go over?”

“Not well with Catherine, as expected. But it's her problem, not mine anymore. As for Anne”—he shrugged—“she seemed more upset at the loss of overseeing PTF and her reduced role at DDF. She's restricted to managing a couple of departments only. She's no longer vice president of operations.”

“That's a bit harsh, for her to lose her position because of her stepmother's interference,” she said. “But you must have other good reasons?”

“Not really, not yet anyhow,” he confessed. “Except my trust in her has diminished. You needn't worry about her. Her negligence has damaged the foundation's reputation, even if she wasn't directly at fault. But, more important to me, you were hurt by it and I lost you.”

“You didn't lose me. I've never stopped loving you.”

Until that moment, he hadn't realized how much he needed to hear her say the words.

She continued, “Now that I know she means nothing to you, I trust you to do whatever you need to with Anne. We're back together and I'm happy, so I'm feeling very generous to the whole world and don't want anyone to suffer needlessly, but you know best.”

“I do know that you're the best thing that ever happened to me, my Lizzy.”