A deep sigh from his wife interrupted the threatening stabs of fear. “I miss Amelia. I wish I could see her and the baby. Who knows when we will be able to travel again between winter and infants to care for?”
“We could visit on our way home, if you wish. Leicestershire is not far out of the way, and I am certain they would not mind.”
“Could we? Oh, William! That would be so wonderful! You are brilliant and far too good to me.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Thank you, dear, but I was only thinking of myself as Lathrop is the best billiard player after Hughes that I know.” He picked up Mr. Keith's missive, feigning indifference while Lizzy chuckled.
Mr. Keith's letter was brief, stating that all was well with harvest beginning as usual, sheep being prepared for market, and the horses all responding according to the breeding plans. Georgiana delivered a rambling dissertation of her adventures sans any mention of Lord Gruffudd now that they had left his vicinity of Wales, to Darcy's mumbled pleasure. His uncle had included a short paragraph stating that they expected to return by the second week of September. Mrs. Bennet gave a typically detailed commentary of the local gossip, some of which actually interested Lizzy, noting in passing that Mr. Bennet and Kitty were well. Charles declared that all was in hand with the plans for relocation, the actual move to take place mid-October.
After the letters were read and shared, Darcy turned to the newspaper. Even on holiday he could not eschew keeping abreast of current events and business affairs. This compulsion was not only due to years of habit but also an obligation related to his station and influence.
“Ah! Look here, love. An entire article on Miss van Lingen landing her balloon on Hampstead Heath. She landed safely, not precisely where she planned to in the vastness of the park, but close enough that the awaiting spectators and reporters could relocate. Excellent!”
That evening they dined with a company of guests. The food was excellent, as always, and the lively conversation enjoyable, especially to Lizzy. Darcy was reserved, as was typical, his contributions limited and mostly confined to discussions of politics with a new resident of the inn, a barrister named Spade, who sat next to him. Lady Underwood was dining as well, but thankfully for Darcy, sat at another table. Nonetheless, he was uncomfortable, her presence and noisy laugh constantly reminding him of events he wanted to forget.
After dinner scheduled entertainment was a chess tournament for the men, although two brave women insisted on playing, and a fashion exhibit for the ladies. Darcy nervously separated from his wife, unable to resist casting a cold, warning glance toward Lady Underwood. She smiled benignly, her eyes hard. Darcy's irritation and trepidation increased, but there was nothing he could do.
Three modistes from Yarmouth brought living models to show the latest styles from abroad. It was wonderful fun with tea and refreshments offered, animated banter, and many of the accessories available for purchase.
Lady Underwood sat near Lizzy, seemed to take a special interest in her, in fact. Lizzy was flattered and sensed nothing amiss, honestly delighting in the older woman's charm and wit. Despite the gap in their upbringing and age, Lizzy felt relaxed and accepted.
The segregated portion of the night passed swiftly for Lizzy, but Darcy had difficulty concentrating on his game. Lizzy anxiously awaited her husband's reappearance, yet was content for the time being, enjoying the conversation and female entertainment.
When the gentlemen began filing in as their games ended, Lizzy kept an eye on the door from her seat at the settee where Lady Underwood sat beside her. Darcy entered, eyes immediately scanning the room for his wife, spying her seconds before she glanced up. Lady Underwood was currently speaking, her visage gay as all hung on her every word, one hand lying lightly on Lizzy's forearm. Darcy froze, instant rage masked from all in the room behind his regulated facade. Lizzy glanced up, automatically issuing a dazzling smile that wilted moments afterward at the constrained thunder in his eyes.
He crossed the room with minimal strides, entire body tense, bowing curtly to the assembled ladies and offering a brisk preamble. “Pardon me, ladies. Mrs. Darcy, it is time for us to retire.” He held out his hand, Lizzy taking it with open mouth and scarlet cheeks. She murmured vague good nights, sensing Darcy's stress and impatience, further baffled and embarrassed by a brief but harsh glare directed at a triumphantly smirking Lady Underwood.
They did not speak until in their room. Darcy was seething and frantically wondering what he was to say to Lizzy after his precipitous rudeness. Lizzy was confused and worried and irritated all at once.
“William, what is the matter…?”
“Elizabeth,” he interrupted, vainly struggling to soften his tone. “Please forgive me for that. It was rude and ungentlemanly I know, but I could not bear to see her talking to you so intimately.”
“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.
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 tete-a-tetes 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.
