“Who?”
“Lady Underwood.” He avoided her eyes, his rage so intense that he did not wish her witnessing it. “Promise me you will not speak with her further.”
“William, you are making no sense. Lady Underwood is a lovely person, kind and considerate, humorous and lively. She has done nothing untoward…”
He interrupted again with a barely controlled edginess, “Elizabeth, I will not discuss her attributes or character! I am ordering you to have no contact with her.”
“Ordering me?” This time it was Lizzy who interrupted, bristling and seriously vexed. “You have no right to speak to me thusly, William.”
“I am your husband, Mrs. Darcy, which gives me the right!” They glared at each other, anger in full sway on both sides with neither able to contain themselves.
“Is this how it is to be now? You barking commands without explanation? This is not like you, William. Tell me what is troubling you or I will make no promises of any kind.”
“You have already promised to obey, if you recall.” He flashed, immediately wincing inwardly.
She stared at him for a long while, Darcy sternly meeting her eyes but clearly deeply disturbed. “You are correct, Mr. Darcy, I did promise. I just never thought it would be lorded over me in such a manner.”
His face fell and he reached for her slack hands. “You must trust me in this, Elizabeth. I know what is best.”
His eyes were pleading, but she detected a distance not seen since long before their engagement. He was keeping a secret, she was sure of it, and the stab of pain to her heart was acute.
“I am going to change for bed,” she finally said, withdrawing her hands. “Excuse me.”
Darcy watched her leave, ripping at his choking cravat with a foul curse. “Blast, Darcy, you are a fool!” he muttered, throwing the unoffending neckcloth violently at the wall. He strode to her door, pausing at the last instant. Give it a moment, he thought, calm yourself and think!
He had worried so, not wishing to cause her pain by learning of Lady Underwood's advances. Yet he now suspected that his horrible actions had caused her far more pain than the simple truth. Furthermore, her comments strongly suggested that Lady Underwood had said nothing untoward. He suddenly wondered if she had not cunningly schemed for his outburst, realizing that she need only sit near Elizabeth to rankle her protective husband.
He threw his body onto the chair, hands running angrily in his hair. Now he had to rectify the situation, find the words to apologize profusely and on bended knee if need be, and then tell her the truth. He groaned, absently unbuttoning and removing coats as his mind whirled.
Whether planned or not, his natural need to shield her from pain had aroused his temper, in turn inciting her ire, and the two of them had clashed. Why is it that she rendered him in all ways impetuous? It had always been so, from their first unruly tête-à-têtes at Netherfield to the wild abandon found in their bed. She unhinged him in all ways, his organized mind disheveled constantly by her wit and verve. His passionate nature was unleashed and reckless. His love for her so consuming that rational thought flittered away with the supreme desire to please her and care for her.
He had asked her to trust him and knew that ultimately she would, without further questions. But he had seen the hurt in her eyes and knew it was borne of his distrust in sharing with her, not in the rude command. The wall thrust between them must be destroyed. He sighed, bending to remove his shoes and stockings.
She returned at that moment, hair braided rather than loose and wearing a plain gown with thick robe belted tight. She did not glance in his direction, but walked with lifted chin and stately poise to the bed. Darcy could not help but smile at her fire and not-so-subtle hints.
“Elizabeth, my love,” he began.
“I am tired, Mr. Darcy. Good night.” Her voice was firm, vexation apparent.
He paused, watching her roughly fluff the pillow and draw the blankets. Softly he spoke, “Remember how I told you once that women would offer themselves to me? Offers I never accepted, but grew somewhat accustomed to nonetheless?” She did not answer, but had stilled with her back yet to him. He swallowed and resumed, “Lady Underwood extended such an invitation to me, several times.” Another pause followed by a deep sigh as he leaned back in the chair. “I should have told you and been honest, but I did not wish to ruin our holiday. I was in error. Please forgive me?”
Lizzy clutched the sheet, not turning. “How did it occur? What did she say?”
“The particulars are not important…”
“They are to me! What happened?”
Her voice was cold as Darcy had never heard it. He frowned but answered her. When he finished, she stood silently for a handful of minutes, the sheet edge crinkled under a white-knuckled fist. His frown deepened and he sat forward, opening his mouth to speak when she abruptly spun about. Her countenance was flushed with a rage he had never witnessed, not even at Kent. Eyes practically shooting sparks, she stormed to where he sat, Darcy involuntarily gripping the chair arms and sinking into the cushions by the force of her anger. She stopped before him, swaying slightly and leaning into his stunned face.
“Do not ever keep such secrets from me, Fitzwilliam Darcy!”
He nodded, but she was already moving away, striding vigorously toward the door in a manner vaguely familiar. It was just like him! Having no idea what she was thinking but truly fearful at the fury evident in every particle of her body, he jumped up and trailed after. The door was opening before he reached her, Darcy lunging forward and slamming it shut with one hand high over her head.
“Elizabeth, where…?”
“Out of my way, William!”
“No. I will not allow you to leave so angry and dressed like this. We must discuss this.”
She pivoted, one hand still on the knob and pulling futilely against his superior strength, meeting his eyes with defiance. “She touched my husband! Pretended to be my friend while laying hands on you! She demanded to… to…” Lizzy spluttered shrilly, waving her free hand briskly in the general region of his front side, “know you in the Biblical sense!”
Darcy fisted his free hand over the smile threatening to break forth as he coughed on the laugh that erupted. Lizzy's eyes narrowed dangerously.
“If you dare to laugh, William, I will hurt you! This is not at all humorous. If the situation were reversed, I know quite well how you would handle it! Pity there is not a sword or pistol about.” And she actually visually scanned the room as if expecting and praying a rapier would materialize.
“Elizabeth, forgive me. You are right. This is not humorous. However, you are overreacting just a bit. Nothing occurred, naturally…”
“I know that!” she snapped, rolling her eyes and piercing him with a look of utter contempt. “I trust your fidelity, William, if not your reasoning and faith in trusting me!”
“I am not so sure my reasoning was flawed, considering your present irrationality.”
She opened her mouth for a sharp retort and then clamped it shut as the partial truth of his softly spoken words penetrated her brain. Her eyes lowered and body relaxed into the solid door, finally releasing her tight grip on the knob. Not trusting her compliance completely, Darcy remained leaning into the door, sizeable frame dwarfing hers.
“How can a woman be so bold and… devious and immoral? Not that I cannot understand her excellent taste,” she whispered, glancing up into his face. Her cheeks were ruddy, anger still evident by the fiery glints deep in her eyes.
“That is kind of you, Elizabeth. But I do not think such women are overly particular.” He sighed. “I should have trusted you with the truth from the beginning, then we both could have avoided her and diverted this argument. You are justified to be vexed with me.”