Am I to have no friends at all? Is he allowed jealousy with no basis in reason, while I am allowed none, when he’s already admitted to a relationship with that woman? She walked slowly to their room, angrily swiping away her tears with the back of her hand. He looks very tired though. He looks tired and concerned. She stopped by her dressing room and pressed a hand to her heart. We’ll be home soon in London, and then we can relax and wait for the baby.
All will be fine as it once was.
It has to be.
For the first time in his life, he looked a mess. When he walked into her dressing room, he was barefoot, his hair wild, his eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion, his coat off, and his shirt pulled out from his pants, the tails hanging down from his waist. Their eyes met.
“May I?” he asked quietly. She had been standing before the immense French doors overlooking the garden, staring unseeing across the moonlit expanse, a brush in her hand. She turned to look at him, tears streaming down her cheeks, and she nodded, offering him the brush.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I find it hard to hit upon a comfortable position when I sit on that antique vanity chair, and I am so very tired tonight.” He tenderly took the brush from her hand and began to glide it through her soft, shiny hair, then set down the brush to loosely braid it for her. Quiet surrounded them.
“Shall I rub your back?” His hands lay warm and gentle at her waist.
She nodded, and when she looked up, she saw him watching her in the dark reflection of the window. He looks so sad and tired, and her heart broke for him. She placed her hands upon his.
“Forgive me, Lizzy,” was all he could manage to say as he pressed his forehead atop her head. She turned quickly and reached up, struggling onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. They stood like that for a time, holding each other, then softly kissed.
He led her over to the bed, helping her up the two steps and onto her side to rest. Sitting next to her, he began to massage her back and hip through her night robe, a sad, embarrassed look upon his face.
Finally, he spoke. “I’ll apologize to Fitzwilliam in the morning. I don’t know what came over me; I think I may be losing my mind. I saw the two of you holding hands and…”
She turned on her back and placed a finger to his lips. “Hush! It is all right, William. I was crying, and Richard heard me, so he asked if he could enter. He was almost equally concerned, you see. I welcomed his company because it was frightening waiting alone for you with that storm blowing.”
Darcy lay down beside her and gathered her into his arms, pulling a coverlet over them. “I don’t think he sleeps well. Catherine is concerned and wants me to speak with him; it seems that some nights he just roams through the halls. I imagine he was lonely as well.”
“He is such a kind man, William. Truthfully, if you had come home an hour before, you would have seen a hysterical banshee instead of a wife.”
He took her palm from his face and kissed her soft hand.
“You’re tired, William, and you worry much too much. Let’s go to sleep. This will all be over in a few months.”
He grunted loudly. “I’ll collapse well before then,” he murmured in her ear.
The following morning, he found Fitzwilliam at breakfast early, as he knew he would. Fitzwilliam had to be off and on the roads to make London late the following day.
“Morning, Cousin. And how are we feeling today?” Fitzwilliam called out when he saw Darcy approach the breakfast room.
“ We feel like a complete ass, thank you very much, and how do you feel, Cousin?” Grabbing a cup of coffee, he sat down across from Fitzwilliam, stretching his long legs before him.
“Very well, actually. Finally slept like a baby.” He was eating three eggs, ham, and bacon. He also had a huge slice of buttered, freshly baked bread, which he was carefully stuffing into his mouth. “God, you are so predictable.” He let out a hoot of laughter. “I knew you’d feel absolutely miserable this morning. Made the whole thing completely worthwhile.”
“You truly are a black-hearted bastard.” Darcy roughly rubbed his sleepy eyes and then destroyed the achingly perfect coif his valet had given him by rubbing his hands through it. Resting his cheek on a fist, he gazed in amazement at the quantity of food his cousin could consume.
Fitzwilliam stopped in midbite. “What?” he groused defensively then swallowed. “An army moves on its stomach.”
“Well, it better not be going far. You’re going to be puking before the first road station.” He motioned with his hands for Fitzwilliam to pass food to him.
Fitzwilliam handed him an empty plate, sliding an egg onto it and a huge slice of ham. He then reached for the scones for both of them.
“I’m going to try to get an extended leave the month Lizzy’s due to deliver. Let me know if you need me for anything before then.” Fitzwilliam leaned back in his chair and stretched, finishing up his morning coffee.
Darcy nodded. “Thank you, by the way, for staying with her last night. At least you kept her calm. I, however, managed nearly to give her apoplexy.” He grabbed several pieces of toast.
“I know you, brat, and I know what is eating at you. There is no evidence for it. Many women never miscarry; some miscarry and then go on to have a perfectly normal delivery. Your mother had a history of troubled pregnancies. Her death was unfortunate but not something that will happen to Lizzy. You are worrying unnecessarily and driving everyone insane.”
“Then why are you taking leave at the time she’s due? Hmm?” It appeared that Darcy’s appetite was returning with a vengeance as he reached for Fitzwilliam’s nearly empty plate to bring it across and add any remnants onto his own. He grabbed for more toast and pastries.
“That’s entirely different,” Richard said. “That’s me. I am a military genius, or hadn’t you heard? Battle-ready whenever needed.”
“You’re an idiot, and you want to be there to torture me when the child is born,” replied Darcy, finishing up the ham and scones.
“That’s true, too.” Fitzwilliam nodded deeply and in complete agreement. “Where do you go from here?” Fitzwilliam had poured himself one more helping of coffee and was ready to push away from the table.
“We go directly to London; I want Elizabeth to be as near to the best medical minds as possible. I have left nothing to chance, believe me. Her physician is world renowned and has assured me he will be in residence, near Pemberley House, the entire final month. Furthermore, he guarantees that the midwife he has secured is the very best. Also, I have contracted with no less than three other physicians and apprised them of the situation. They have all agreed, for a not-so-slight remuneration, to remain in town that last month of her pregnancy. It is all costing a small fortune, but the peace of mind is priceless.” He stared unseeing out the window, not bothering to hide his distress from his cousin.
“Something else is bothering you—out with it.”
“What if there are twins in there?” Darcy shook his head. “She’s so big, much larger than I had imagined she would be at this point. But mayhap it is because she’s such a tiny thing. I don’t know anymore. The proportions appear all off to me. And her delivery is not until sometime at the end of January.” He sighed heavily. “At any rate, do not forget about Georgiana’s debut and presentation. That will require Elizabeth and me to reside in London from before Christmas and then throughout the entire social season.”