Mr. Darcy's Obsession (20 page)

"Can I get you anything for your present relief? A glass of wine?"

She touched the infant's hand, and the tiny fingers wrapped tightly around hers. She gave a polite smile and said, "I thank you, no. I am perfectly well. I wonder where Lizzy has gone."

Darcy knew a dismissal when he heard it. He executed a formal bow. "I will seek her out." He left the room, but he knew he would not soon forget the emptiness of her countenance as she watched her child sleep.

He looked into the shop, but it was still shuttered and empty. He had never been farther into the private apartment than the sitting room. He followed the narrow hallway past a dining room. The odor of spices told him the final door was the kitchen.

The heat of the room struck him first, coming from the hearth where two pots hung. Elizabeth stood with her back to him, her finger tracing words in a well-worn notebook. She took two onions, chopped off the ends, peeled the brown skin, and then looked back to the book. The sight of her stopped Darcy in his tracks.

Would he always feel as if the room had shifted when he laid eyes on her? Even doing such a mundane task, one suited to a servant, her liveliness could not be diminished. The elegant sweep of her arm as she reached for a handful of cloves was better suited to a ballroom than a kitchen, but even so, he could not help running his eyes along the sweep of bare skin below her sleeves. She took his breath away, even when he could not see her face.

His fingers ached to touch her, but he relished the chance to watch her unobserved. He had not made any fixed plans for where he would go once his tasks in Meryton were accomplished, but at that moment he decided that nothing would make him leave Meryton until Elizabeth could go with him. If it meant staying at the inn for weeks, so be it. He could not bring himself to leave her, even for a day.

He watched, mesmerized, as Elizabeth raised her hand to her face, as if wiping something away. With a start, Darcy awoke to reality--that the woman he loved, who deserved only the best of everything, whose life should be free of cares, was doing the work of a servant. He had known it to be the case when he saw her chapped hands, but it was different to witness it.

One by one she pressed cloves into the onions and then added them to the large pot hanging over the hearth. She stirred the contents, then, when she looked up, she spotted him. Her cheeks were immediately covered with the deepest blush.

Even in her discomfort, she gave him a cheeky smile. "Unless you perchance have a pressing interest in a recipe for curry soup, you may be more comfortable in the sitting room."

"How could I be comfortable there when you are here?"

Elizabeth put a hand on her hip. "This is not such a bad place to be."

"Perhaps not, but I would not wish to see you so."

"Nor do I, though my reason may be different from yours. Cooking, you see, is not among my accomplishments, and I deeply regret that I will have to eat the product of my labours. It is not a fate I would wish on a friend."

Once again, she had effectively disarmed him with her wit, but it still pained him to see the perspiration on her brow. "Where is Charlie?"

"No doubt emptying the chamber pots or bathing Mr. Browning. He has already made breakfast, been to the butcher and the greengrocer, built up the fire, and put on water to heat. He cannot read well enough to make out the recipe, so I do this part." She stuck cloves into the onion. "Please do not say anything; I do what is needed."

"You will have assistance soon. One of my maids will be arriving this afternoon and will stay as long as she is needed."

"You have been busy indeed! Have you spoken to Jane about this?"

"Not yet, but I shall. I hope she will not object; in this case, it is a fortunate happenstance. The girl needs to leave London, and your sister needs assistance."

Elizabeth surreptitiously wiped her irritated eyes. "If she has to leave London, is she suitable for working here?"

"It is not that kind of situation. She made an enemy in London through no fault of her own, and she will be safer beyond his reach. She is a country girl."

"You take a great deal of interest in your servants' welfare."

"My cousin says I am too soft on them."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, or Miss de Bourgh?" She found it hard to picture either of them making such a statement.

"The colonel's brother, in fact. You have been spared meeting him, for which I thank God." There was a new hardness in his voice.

Elizabeth glanced up at him as her fingers unwrapped the package from the butcher. A veal knuckle; Charlie had chosen Mr. Browning's favourite for the soup. She added it to the pot and rinsed her hands in the last dregs of washing water. She removed the apron, carefully not meeting Mr. Darcy's eyes. "I must go out for a short time, sir. If you will excuse me."

"Is there any way in which I can assist you?"

She stopped short at his words. Cocking her head to the side, she made a show of looking him up and down. "I fear you are somewhat overdressed to fetch water, sir."

He did not return her smile. "You should not be fetching water."

"I have been fetching water for weeks, and it seems to have done me no lasting harm." She bobbed a quick curtsey and made her escape before he could object again.

He was quicker than she and blocked her way into the alley. She made no resistance when he took the buckets from her; it would hardly do to tussle over them.

He said, "I will do it."

Her lips twitched at the ridiculous idea of his finely dressed figure pumping water. "The pump is on the village green. You cannot go there without being seen. It will create talk."

"I know where it is. I have watered my horse there. You must know I cannot stand by while you do this, but I would be grateful to have your company."

Elizabeth concurred, since she did not think she could stand to be parted from him in any case. Besides, she hoped her presence might distract him from the stares that were bound to follow him, so she maintained a lively conversation as they walked. She had not anticipated, however, the pleasure she obtained in watching his economical movements as he pumped water, the flexing of his arms displaying a power not often seen among members of the
ton
. She noted his inexperience with the process with some amusement, however. "If you fill the buckets to the rim, the water will slosh over the side when you carry them."

"I am fortunate to have such a knowledgeable teacher." Darcy tipped the bucket, allowing a small portion of the water to spill out.

"Hardly fortunate! The greater part of the population is very well versed in this particular skill. You, I fear, are in the minority."

"Ah, but my teacher teaches my heart as well."

"I have never heard of anyone carrying water with their heart. It must be a very advanced skill."

Her teasing warmed him and made him wish they were alone. Although the townspeople were giving them wide berth, the clatter of hoof beats and cart wheels on the cobblestones reminded him that they were on High Street. The words he wished to say would have to wait. Instead, he hefted the buckets. While the weight did not strain him, it angered him to think that Elizabeth had been bearing such a burden, but even a demeaning chore such as this was a pleasure when Elizabeth's eyes were sparkling at him.

Elizabeth led Darcy back through the garden to the kitchen door. It stood open, allowing the heat to escape. Inside, Charlie was vigourously scrubbing the table. When he spotted Darcy carrying the buckets of water, his eyes widened. "I can take those, sir," he said, dropping the rag and hastening to relieve Darcy of his burden. He set the buckets in the far corner.

A wail pierced the air from the direction of the sitting room. Charlie said, "He's been at it again, Miss Bennet. I offered to take him, but she said no."

Elizabeth shook her head in disapproval and glanced apologetically at Darcy. "I wish I could offer you a more pleasant visit, sir, but I fear my sister requires my assistance. She should rest."

"You need not entertain me," Darcy said gravely. In truth, he needed no entertainment; being in Elizabeth's company was all he desired. He followed her into the hallway.

A few feet from the sitting room, she laid a hand on his arm. He stopped instantly. She tipped her head to the side, and with a mischievous look, she touched her fingertips to his lips. A shock of desire shook him at the unexpected, but more than welcome, touch. He could not resist catching her hand and pressing first one kiss, then another, into the curve of her palm. Elizabeth's sudden, sharp inhalation, along with the colour filling her cheeks, told him that she was not indifferent to his actions. If only he could take her into his arms! But for now, this new intimacy was enough. He closed his eyes as he touched his lips to her flesh once more.

"My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth," he said unsteadily. But anything further he might have said was drowned out by wails.

"I thank you for the compliment, but the other man in my life is calling for my attention, and he is less patient than you." In a swirl of skirts, she vanished into the sitting room, only to reappear a moment later with her nephew in her arms. The baby's cries would not be silenced, though, until she took him into the garden.

Darcy watched in fascination as she spoke quiet nonsense in the baby's ear, walking to and fro while rocking him against her shoulder. The baby's hand found its way out of the swaddling clothes, and it waved about for a moment before the tiny fingers anchored themselves firmly in Elizabeth's hair, pulling a curl out of its careful arrangement.

Behind him, the garden gate creaked open. He turned to see a woman accompanied by a servant carrying a covered basket. It was a moment before he could place her identity. It had been more than two years since he last saw her at Rosings.

"Lizzy, I brought you--" Mrs. Collins's words trailed off abruptly when she spotted Darcy. "Mr. Darcy! What brings you to Meryton?"

So Elizabeth had not taken her friend into her confidence. "Mrs. Collins, it is a pleasure to see you again. I hope your family is well."

"Very well, thank you. I hope Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh are in the best of health."

"I have not heard otherwise." Darcy stepped closer to Elizabeth. After all the time he had spent longing for her, it seemed that there was always someone wanting to take her attention from him.

"I am glad to hear it." She took the basket from the maid. "Annie, go ask Mrs. Browning what she would like you to do today." Once the maid had left, Charlotte gestured to the basket. "Lizzy, shall I leave these things in the kitchen?"

"Thank you, Charlotte." Elizabeth followed her friend into the kitchen, and Darcy trailed behind.

Mrs. Collins removed the checkered cloth from the basket and unloaded it. "Muffins, a raised giblet pie, a mutton shank, some biscuits, and a roasted partridge."

"You see that Charlotte takes pity on my lack of skill in the kitchen," Elizabeth said.

Mrs. Collins darted a curious glance in his direction. "I have a cook, and you do not. Is Mr. Browning any better today?"

"Much the same. He takes sips of broth." Elizabeth gestured towards the pot over the fire.

"Does his agitation continue?"

"I do not think that will change. Mr. Browning is not well suited to being helpless."

Mrs. Collins folded the cloth and replaced it in the basket. "And you, Mr. Darcy? Are you visiting or passing through town?"

"I plan to remain in Meryton until Elizabeth is free to return to London. I assume there will be a room at the inn."

Mrs. Collins turned a shocked gaze on him, and he realized he should not have used Elizabeth's Christian name before their engagement was announced. "I see," she said dubiously.

"Miss Bennet has just done me the great honour of agreeing to be my wife."

Her look of surprise was replaced with one of utter astonishment. "She has? You are? Oh, Lizzy, I am so happy for you!" She embraced her friend, baby and all, and did not have enough words to describe her pleasure. "In that case, if you will give me the baby, I will take over here."

"You need not do that," Elizabeth said.

"A girl becomes engaged to be married only once. Now you go off with Mr. Darcy and enjoy yourself for a bit, away from invalids and babies."

Elizabeth laughed. "I know there is no arguing with you when you have that look in your eye, so if it is agreeable to Mr. Darcy, I will accept your offer."

Darcy bowed. "It is very agreeable. I thank you, Mrs. Collins." The idea of being alone with Elizabeth was beyond agreeable. He silently blessed Mrs. Collins.

While Elizabeth ran inside to fetch her bonnet and gloves, Mrs. Collins turned to Darcy and spoke confidingly. "I hope you will marry soon. It would be a pity if your wedding were delayed because of mourning for Mr. Browning. He may not be long for this world."

Darcy nodded slowly at the sensible advice. "Time is of the essence, then."

"Exactly."

"Your point is well taken. I am in your debt, Mrs. Collins."

"If you take Lizzy away from here and treat her as well as she deserves, I will be the debtor."