Mr. Darcy's Promise (16 page)

The stables were nearer to the gardens, with a barnyard just to the south. She could make out a whole flock; nearly fifteen to twenty chickens, and perhaps more of those that she could not see. She would need to visit them later, she decided. As a child, she had been mesmerized by the constant pecking and scratching whenever they were fed. She had to concede that chickens were the silliest animal she knew, but she took every opportunity at Longbourn to feed them whenever possible, even saving her scraps for them. She had needed to be secretive since her mother did not approve of such behavior. She could hear her now.
This is not the sort of thing a gentleman’s daughter does, Lizzy! Whatever will I do with you?
The memory made her laugh. She was so content at the moment, more content than she had been in many weeks. She took one last glance at the estate and then stretched out to soak up the rays of sunshine. She hadn’t had a single confusing thought about Mr. Darcy on her entire walk.
I knew a walk was what I needed!
She closed her eyes— just for a moment, she told herself— and promptly fell asleep.

*****

“What do you mean she is missing?” Darcy started to pace in front of Mrs. Reynolds. He had assumed she slept in after yesterday’s long journey and had asked for a tray to be brought up to her. And, he had to admit, he had also assumed that she was avoiding him after the near-kiss yesterday. He should be more careful, he told himself firmly.

Mrs. Reynolds cleared her throat. “Serafina was rung for several hours ago and readied Mrs. Darcy herself. Serafina said she was especially in good spirits and asked for her pelisse and bonnet.”

“Well, does Serafina know where she is? Did my wife give any indication where she went?”

“Mr. Reynolds attended her at the front door but she gave him no indication of where she was going.”

“Well, search the house; I want every servant looking for her inside and out! She is new to the area and could easily be lost. And tell Roberts to fetch my horse!” He went searching for Mr. Reynolds. He was certain Mrs. Reynolds had reported all that she could, but he was going to ask him himself.

“Reynolds!” he barked. “What time did my wife leave? Do you know which direction she went? Did she say anything? Did she give any indication at all where she was heading?”

“Sir, it was just after seven, and she headed north towards the gardens. She gave no indication of where she was going or even why she was leaving, sir,” Mr. Reynolds said.

“Seven? That was over three hours ago! And you have not seen her since?” Darcy’s heard his voice crack slightly with worry.

“No, sir.” Reynolds looked at him. “I am sure that we will find her very soon, sir.”

Darcy ignored his reassuring words. His mind was busy imagining the worst: Elizabeth lying somewhere injured, lost, or even attacked by an animal. He started pacing at the front door, praying that Elizabeth would simply walk through it. For a moment, he could almost see her laughing at all the commotion and then chiding him for his worry. When she did not appear, his hands tightened so much that he could feel his rapid pulse in them. “Where is my horse?”

Mr. Reynolds did not offer an answer, wisely discerning that it was not truly a question, only Darcy’s method of regaining some control of the situation.

Darcy stepped out the front door and headed towards the stable.
If I have to ready the horse myself, I will!
He could see the servants running around the estate calling Mrs. Darcy’s name. His eyes darted every which way for a glimpse of her skirts or a flash of her curls.

Much to his relief, he could see Calypso being led up the path. He closed the gap and mounted her. He headed north, barking out further orders to the servants he passed. He passed the gardens, scanning the landscape that he knew so well. Where would she go? There were a number of well-marked gravel paths that led around the estate, but knowing Elizabeth, she would take the path least marked. He needed a better view. There was a great cliff that rose high enough to see the entire estate, a favorite of his, and he led Calypso in that direction. To his relief, he saw the delicate impressions of a shoe that must be hers.

“Elizabeth!” he called. Did she cross the stream? She would have had to jump, but he couldn’t imagine that deterring her. Sure enough, the footprints began on the other side of the water. Of course she would jump! He kicked Calypso on. “Elizabeth!” he called again. The footprints died off as the ground dried, but he pressed on, hoping to find her nearby. He stopped the horse for a moment. Just ahead was a flash of yellow skirt beneath a green pelisse. He recognized the gown immediately and dismounted. “Elizabeth!”

“Mr. Darcy!” She turned in astonishment. He was rushing towards her, his face tight with anxiety. His long strides quickly closed the distance between them.

He reached out for her and embraced her tightly. She looked to be in good health; no limp or blood, no dishevelment besides a hint of windblown curls. He held her so tightly that her bonnet slipped to the ground. She was safe! A moment later, however, he realized that not only was she safe, but she was pushing against him quite forcibly.

“What is the meaning of all this?” she demanded. She reached for her bonnet and fastened it securely back on her head.

“We could not find you and we feared for your safety!”

“We?
Who is ‘we’?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“The whole household!
Everyone is looking for you! Where have you been? You left over three hours ago!” He heard her groan loudly and saw her grimace. Her hands went to her hips, and he found his relief at finding her had settled back into anxiety as he suspected he was about to be privy to a very strong reaction from her.

“Mr. Darcy, I simply went on a walk! You sent the whole household looking for me because I did not show up for breakfast? Must I be at your side at all times? Is that what a good wife should do?” In spite of her vows to obey and be a good wife, she found she was furious at his presumption.

He felt heat rising in his own chest. If she knew even the slightest amount of fear he had experienced in the last half hour she would not be so belligerent and flippant about what had happened!

“A good wife?
A good wife?” What was this she was saying about being a good wife? All he cared about was her safety! “Is leaving and not telling anyone where you are going, and taking unescorted adventures to areas unknown to you what you call being a good wife? Try starting with a little consideration for what others are feeling before you give your opinions about what a good wife should be!” He watched her eyes widen at his heated words and he regretted them immediately. He wanted to explain that he was only speaking out of the sheer worry he had felt since he could not find her. He took a deep calming breath before gently grasping her shoulders. He leaned into her, lowered his voice, and whispered, “Dearest Elizabeth, I only feared for your safety. You worried me.”

His voice was soft and she could feel the heat of his breath on her ear. It sent shivers up and down her spine, and she felt her anger dissipate with the sensation. His hands released her shoulders and she let out her breath. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t imagine it slowing anytime soon. She looked up to see his eyes were looking cautiously at her. She remained silent; she couldn’t say anything for fear that her voice would tremble.

“Please Elizabeth, let me escort you until you know your way around the area.” Then seeing her bite her lip, most likely because she did not want to be escorted by him, added, “At least tell someone so we can have an escort, anyone, to ensure your safety.”

She could see the plea in his eyes and whispered her meager excuse, “I simply fell asleep. I am sorry. I have not been sleeping well lately.” Concern etched deeper lines into Mr. Darcy’s brow.

“May I ask why you have not been sleeping? Is the bed not to your liking?” Mr. Darcy had never thought to ask her if she had slept well. The topic felt somewhat inappropriate, to say the least, when speaking to a wife whom he promised not to take to his bed.

How could she tell him that thoughts of him kept her awake each night? How could she tell him that she couldn’t stop recalling each and every encounter between them, and every time, her body would react as if it were happening at this very moment? How could she tell him that he seemed a totally different man than what she expected to marry? How could she tell him of the repeated dreams in which he
appeared, some of them more intimate than others? She couldn’t. Not when she did not know why he offered his hand in the first place. “Mr. Darcy . . .”

“William . . .” he corrected her.

She felt a prickle of embarrassment at having causing all this trouble by falling asleep, so she partly appeased him. “Fitzwilliam . . .” His eyes started to smile.

“That is the first time you have used my Christian name.” He smiled gently at her. “I am sorry that I interrupted you. Please continue.” A shiver ran down his neck and shoulders at the beautiful way she said his name. He felt as if, having been deaf all his
life, he was now hearing music for the first time. The only thing that would make it better was if he didn’t have to remind her to use it.
Time
,
he told himself,
it will come in time.

“Sir, being married has not been easy for either of
us, I am sure, especially considering our . . . special circumstances. My mind has been preoccupied with a particular problem. I find this difficult to address but I must beg of you to answer a question.”

“Anything.”

She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. It was not in her nature to mince words. “Why did you marry me?”

He took a step backward almost out of instinct. He had not been expecting that kind of question. Didn’t she know? How could she not see the depth that he felt for her? He had time after time found himself gazing at her longingly, he sought opportunities to be near her both emotionally and physically,
he looked for ways to give her all that he had. Was that not enough?
Could she really not know that I ardently love and admire her? If not, why not
?
What was stopping her from seeing his complete devotion? A chill ran through him. What was she really asking? Was she asking his motives in marrying her or was she asking him to explain why he didn’t allow Wickham to marry her?

Bile rose to his throat as he thought of the sight he had seen that night at Netherfield: that scoundrel with his arms around Elizabeth, kissing her in a way that declared nothing but filthy intent. If Wickham’s advances had been welcomed, then that could only mean Elizabeth admired Wickham and not him. His stomach tightened. He needed more time to change her mind and fall in love with him. He needed to allow her enough time to forget Wickham’s charms.
Time, it just takes time.
It was a thought which seemed to repeat itself quite frequently these days.
She needs more time to learn to love me.
“I promise to tell you, but not now. We must be getting back.”

“More promises? Give me at least a little insight into your reasoning, for I will not move an inch unless you do so.” She brought her hands to her hips once again. This time she would not let him escape her questions by making a vague promise. It had taken great courage to ask such a bold question and she expected an answer in return.

He stepped forward and lifted her left hand off her hip and examined it. It was so feminine: the fine white palm, the beautiful slim fingers, and the half-moons of her nails. He turned it over and looked at the ring he had placed on that very hand, his fingers absently caressing the back of the hand as he did so. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of her hand, before he looked at her and then kissed the inside of her wrist. He had promised to tell her later, yet she demanded a little insight into his reasoning. She hadn’t specified that it had to be a verbal insight. He continued in silence as he took that hand and tucked it into his arm before starting to guide her back down the hill. Surprisingly she came willingly and silently.
Was that enough insight for you?
hewondered
.
Because I would be more than happy to attempt to be more insightful on your lips!

*****

True to her word, she always let someone know when and where she would be walking. She tried to avoid telling Mr. Darcy directly but he always seemed to unearth her plans, as well as to find the time to accompany her. By the fourth day in a row she started suspecting that the servants were under strict orders to notify Mr. Darcy whenever she would go out walking. She was surprised to find that she didn’t mind this as much as she thought she would. He was pleasant company, as well as very knowledgeable about his land and the surrounding villages. It became natural to accept his offered arm and guiding hand on the back of her elbow as they walked over more difficult terrain. It was usually easy conversation as well. It had been a week since they had come to Pemberley and Georgiana was due to join them today. Because of this, Elizabeth decided to tell Mr. Darcy directly of her plans to see the stables and barn, knowing he would accompany her, thus allowing him to be nearer to the house than their usual walks so he could watch for Georgiana’s arrival. He had been working with his steward all morning but he dismissed him as soon as Elizabeth entered the room.

“I understand you keep chickens,” she said as soon as his steward, Livingston, had left the room. Some part of her laughed at the plan she was about to carry out.