Willow Hall Romance Read online

  “I do not know exactly when I began to think of you in such familiar terms, but I am fairly certain that it was after your stay at Netherfield.” He smiled sheepishly at her. “You were charming.”

  “I was not,” she disagreed. “I was disagreeable.”

  He shrugged. “It was most charming.”

  She laughed and held his arm more tightly as she stepped towards him as if there was something about his person that drew her to him. “So I have not only promised myself to an arrogant man, but one who finds argument and debate to be charming?”

  He nodded. “So it would seem.”

  She heard him sigh.

  “Do you regret your answer?” he asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head and then lay it against his shoulder. “Not this time.” The letter in her pocket reminded her of just how fortunate she was to have been given this opportunity to correct her mistake. “I shall never regret it,” she added softly. She smiled as she heard him sigh once again, only this time instead of holding concern, it was an exhalation of peace. So they walked, slowly, toward the tree where he had met her that morning, where he gave her a second kiss, and where he stood watching her until she reached a turn in the path.

  As Darcy stood looking at the path where Elizabeth had been, he considered his good fortune in not only having found her again but in being accepted. He wanted to whoop and toss his hat in the air, but that particular article of clothing was still on the ground next to where he had kissed her the first time. A smile spread across his face. She was his, or nearly so. He would leave early for town so that he would have time to speak with her father, and then, he would plead a need to see his sister to Bingley, so that he might return to Derbyshire sooner than originally planned. And once returned, he would make known to one and all that she was his. Plans in place, he drew in a deep breath, released it quickly, and headed back to the wall to find his hat and his horse.

  Chapter 4

  Days passed. Calls were made and received. Friendships were begun and strengthened. Life and love, like the fields where the labourers toiled, blossomed and flourished. All seemed idyllic, but on such serene and happy times there must of necessity encroach some form of displeasure or discontent. For Darcy and Elizabeth this came in the form of a necessary separation of a fortnight, which is not so very long unless one is in love. And Darcy and Elizabeth were in love. Though they had not spoken of such things, even in private, to any of the friends who surrounded them, there was little doubt in anyone’s mind that the two were more than mere friends as they claimed.

  Darcy’s agitation as he prepared to leave nearly a week after his arrival was quite obvious to Philip, who had, at his friend’s request, called at Pemberley. He sat silently waiting in Darcy’s study as Darcy shuffled papers and muttered under his breath about business that should have been sorted out but was not.

  Finally, his desk cleared of all pressing matters, Darcy leaned back in his chair and began the necessary conversation. “I am reluctant to leave.”

  Philip nodded. “That is obvious.”

  Darcy raised a brow.

  “You become testy when faced with a duty you do not wish to do but feel must be done,” explained Philip.

  Darcy sighed. “I apologize. I am reluctant to leave Georgiana.” It was partially true. “And because of my reluctance, I wish to ask a favour of you.” He ran a finger along the edge of a pile of papers on his desk and allowed his eyes to follow it. He could still not speak of his failure in regard to his sister without some degree of shame. “You and Lucy know of the damage done to her last year.”

  “She seems recovered,” said Philip.

  “Yes, and I thank you and Lucy for that. Had you not been willing to take her in for those few weeks while a new companion was obtained, I am certain her recovery would not have been so quick.”

  “I cannot take credit for that, my friend. It was Lucy.” He smiled. “Who would have thought that having nearly had her reputation ruined by her uncle would have been a blessing?” And in truth, it was the commonality of having lost parents and been preyed upon by men who should have been trustworthy that bound the two ladies together during that time.

  Darcy reluctantly nodded his agreement.

  “Lucy’s father could not prevent her uncle from acting as he did, any more than you could have prevented Wickham’s actions. You may be master of a large estate, but you are not God, and you cannot discern the intentions of any man save yourself.” Philip tried to keep his voice from sounding too much like he was delivering a message from the pulpit rather than sitting in the home of a friend, offering encouragement.

  “I have tried to believe that,” said Darcy, “but the fact remains ─”

  “The fact remains,” interrupted Philip, “that what has happened in the past cannot be undone. Your sister will be well. Lucy and I will see to it.” He leaned forward in his chair, a small smile on his face. “And I do not believe for one moment that it is leaving your sister that has you in such a state. There have been several occasions over the past year when you have left her to deal with business. I do believe, however, that her experience of being taken in during your absence has you worried that the same may happen to Miss Bennet.”

  The speed with which Darcy rose from his chair and crossed to the window was all the confirmation that Philip needed. He waited patiently for his friend to speak.

  “I lost her once.” Darcy’s shoulders drooped and his voice was soft. “I narrowly survived the experience. I am not sure I would survive a second time.”

  Philip tipped his head to the side and studied his friend’s back. “So she is the lady of whom you wrote?”

  Darcy nodded.

  “I suspected as much.” Philip rose to join his friend at the window. “Do you fear she is inconstant in her affection? Or does she still withhold her heart from you?”

  “No,” said Darcy, “she has given me no reason to doubt her, and yet, I do.” He expelled a loud breath as he tried to relieve the feeling of guilt such thoughts brought to him. “And I should not.”

  Philip clapped him on the shoulder. “Do you see the beauty of the garden?”

  Darcy gave him a puzzled look.

  “An illustration, my friend,” Philip answered with a smile before turning his gaze back to the paths lined with blooms and greenery. “The caretaker no longer worries about the growth of the shrubberies or the trees or the flowers, but when they were newly planted, he did. Presently, he tends and nurtures their growth, but he no longer fears they will not bloom. The same is true of love. Although I still nurture the love that I share with Lucy, I no longer fear it will not bloom, but, you are in the first throes of love, so naturally fears will follow.” Philip leaned against the window frame. “A little faith is what is needed. Tell me,” he continued, “what is the worst that could happen during your absence?”

  “Fire, accident, disease — ”

  Philip held up a hand to stop the flow of disastrous events. “I really should know better than to ask such a question of you.” He chuckled. “Allow me to rephrase my question. Who, in our acquaintance, would attempt to steal her away from you?” He held up his hand again to forestall Darcy’s answer. “Wickham is not here, and the only unattached gentleman Miss Bennet knows well is my brother.” He lowered his hand.

  “There are others in your parish,” Darcy protested rather weakly.

  Philip shook his head. “Miss Bennet met many of them before you arrived and even with my sister trying to arrange a match between Miss Bennet and Marcus, she has shown no interest in any. In fact, she was quite uncomfortable with all of Mary Ellen’s attempts. You have nothing to fear.”

  Darcy’s brows furrowed, and his mouth turned down in a small frown as he thought.

  “Lucy and I will do all in our power to see that Miss Bennet is just as attached to you when you return as she is now.” Seeing his friend’s features did not relax, he added, “I shall write to you straightaway if any new gentlemen enter our ne
ighbourhood. I shall even offer my sister as tribute in Miss Bennet’s stead.” He lay his hand on his heart and affected a somber expression as he said the last.

  Darcy relaxed and shook his head. “You are a good friend.” He chuckled. “So good a friend that I will not mention your offer to Mary Ellen.”

  Philip laughed. “I thank you for that.”

  ~*~*~

  Elizabeth folded the letter and dried her eyes. She leaned her head against the tree and looked up into its canopy. She was uncertain how long she had sat there trying to compose herself. Her emotions had been anything but complacent since yesterday. She shoved her handkerchief into her pocket and drew first one deep breath and then another. It would not do to return to the house looking as she imagined she did now. She closed her eyes. She had thought her tears had been expended before sleep last night. She chuckled lightly at herself. Who in her family would believe that the man she had so vehemently opposed in all things had now become the source of both her delight and sorrow?

  It had been a delight to see him waiting for her under this very tree this morning. She had thought yesterday was the last she would see him until the month’s end, but he refused to leave until he had seen her once more. So, while his coach and four sat on the side of the nearby road, he had come to stand under this tree until he had been able to give her the letter she now held. For a man of few words, his ability to write a letter and express his soul in those words was truly amazing. She lifted the paper that held his professions of love and longing to her lips and gave it a kiss. “And I love you, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered before tucking the new letter into her pocket next to the old one. With one more deep sigh, she felt ready to continue her walk and face the day.

  Jane and the Gardiners would be arriving the day after tomorrow. She must think on that. She rose, shook any bits of dirt or leaves from her skirts, squared her shoulders, and affixing a smile to her lips, began walking in the direction of Willow Hall. Several times while she walked she had to remind herself to smile, to hide the pain that was in her heart, and every time she did, she wondered anew at how Jane was able to smile so very much.

  “Ah, there you are,” called Mrs. Abbot when Elizabeth neared the house. “I was afraid you might have gotten lost on your rambling.” She tilted her head to the side and gave Elizabeth a searching look. “You look a bit worse for the wear this morning. Are you well?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I am well, although I must admit to not having slept soundly last night.”

  “Then you must take a rest after you have had your breakfast.” She took Elizabeth by the arm and walked toward the house with her. “I dare say, with Mr. Darcy being gone, we will have fewer visitors today.”

  “I believe you are correct,” said Elizabeth, the thought doing nothing to aid her in her attempts to smile and be pleasant. “However, the house will be full soon.”

  Mrs. Abbot squeezed Elizabeth’s arm. “I am quite excited,” she admitted. “I have not seen Marjorie in nearly a year. She was with me for Aiden’s birth, you know.”

  Elizabeth nodded and allowed Cecily to prattle on about how delightful her younger son was and how he had nearly taken a step yesterday, which was at least a full month ahead of when his brother, Lucas, had attempted such a feat. The Abbot brothers were delightful. Elizabeth had spent many hours of her stay with them, reading books and building blocks, just as she had done with Aunt Gardiner’s children when they were young.

  “One day,” Cecily was saying, “you will have your own children to crow about.” She sat a cup of tea before Elizabeth. “Will it be soon?” she asked with a sly smile.

  “I do not see how it can be,” said Elizabeth with surprise. “It is still the practice to marry before having children, and I am not married.”

  Cecily laughed heartily at the comment. Gathering herself, she clarified, “I apologize for being unclear. I had meant will you be marrying soon, so that our little ones might grow up together?”

  Elizabeth took a sip of her tea and slowly lowered the cup back to the table as she sought for a way to answer such a question without saying too much. She and Mr. Darcy had agreed that their understanding was to be of a secretive nature until he had been able to secure her father’s approval. “I cannot say.” Her cheeks glowed rosy. It was not a lie. She could not say without breaking her promise to Mr. Darcy, and yet, her heart felt it a half-truth.

  A smile spread across Cecily’s face. “Then, I shall not press you on the matter until Mr. Darcy returns.” The words were spoken in a loud whisper.

  “Thank you,” said Elizabeth. “I simply cannot say,” she repeated.

  Cecily patted her hand. “But it is not that you do not know.”

  Elizabeth’s cheeks felt as if they were on fire now.

  “I will say no more.” Cecily pretended to lock her lips and place a key into her pocket.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “A fortnight is not so very long,” Cecily commented as she lifted her own cup of tea and gave Elizabeth a wink. “He will be returned before you know it. I remember when my Harry would be gone for some reason or another — all related to business, of course.”

  Again, Elizabeth smiled and nodded and continued on with her breakfast while her friend told her story after story of the year before she and her husband were married and a bit about the year following.

  “He was such a diligent worker. I am sure there is not another like him in all of Derbyshire.” She paused to sip her tea. “And the Lord has rewarded us for it. Willow Hall is beautiful. My children are strong and healthy, and my Harry is no longer called away as he once was.” She took another sip of tea. “He is still a hard worker. The best of men is what he is.” She finished her tea. “Now look at me, talking and talking about my blessings and not allowing you a word.”

  “I enjoy hearing of your blessings, Cecily,” assured Elizabeth. Indeed, it was what she had needed to take her mind off the events of the morning.

  “Well, now,” said Cecily after scrutinizing Elizabeth’s face. “I must say you look better for having eaten.” She stood. “Time for a rest.”

  Elizabeth sighed.

  “No, I will not stand for you wearing yourself out and becoming ill.” Cecily’s hands were placed firmly on her hips, and although she was not more than six years Elizabeth’s senior, she looked for all the world like a well-practiced matron. “One hour,” she said definitively. “We shall not have visitors for at least one hour, so you are to lie on your bed until that time has passed.”

  Elizabeth rose to do as instructed but instead of allowing Elizabeth to pass, Cecily stepped in front of her and drew her into a firm embrace. “He will return like the wind. It was in his eyes,” she whispered. Then, she gave Elizabeth a kiss on the cheek and allowed her to continue on her way.

  Chapter 5

  An hour is an incredibly small amount of time to lie on one’s bed if weary, but when one’s mind is filled with thoughts such as Elizabeth’s was, it can be a very long time indeed. Feeling no more rested now than when she had first lain down, Elizabeth rose and readied herself for the possibility of callers.

  “Oh, my, this is excellent news!” Cecily’s voice carried from the sitting room and climbed the stairs to where Elizabeth was descending. “Elizabeth! Elizabeth!” she called as she hurried into the hall. “Oh, Elizabeth, you will never guess, but it is the most excellent news.” Cecily waved the letter she held. “Our sisters will be here tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Elizabeth said in surprise.

  Cecily’s head bobbed up and down, her smile seeming to grow with each bob. “My brother Edward concluded his business early, and so they will arrive early.” She clasped the letter to her chest. “Oh, I must alert Mrs. Smith. There is so much to be done.”

  “I dare say there is little to be done,” said Harold Abbot as he watched his wife hurrying down the hall in search of the housekeeper.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Very little needs doing. The
beds have been made for three days now, and the rooms have been aired. I suppose it is just a matter informing the cook of a larger number of guests for meals.”

  “And cutting fresh flowers,” said Mr. Abbot.

  Elizabeth sank into a chair in the sitting room and placed her workbasket on the floor next to her chair. She pulled out a piece that she had begun last week and prepared to work on it. “I suppose the flowers will be best gathered in the morning,” she said.

  Mr. Abbot agreed but worried slightly that his excited wife would not be able to wait so long to prepare. “I say, you do not seem so excited to see Jane as Cecily is to see Marjorie,” he commented with a laugh.

  “It has not been a year since I last saw Jane,” explained Elizabeth.

  Mr. Abbot smiled at her as he opened his book. “I dare say you would not be so exuberant as Cecily even if it had been a year. We each express our delight in different ways. Cecily happens to be more demonstrative than most, although not improperly so. Had we had company — beyond family — when the letter arrived, I know her excitement would have been better contained. However, I cannot fault her for her exuberance. It is a wonderful thing to have people you love visit after a long absence.”

  “Indeed,” said Elizabeth. “I cannot imagine having so long a time away from Jane.”

  Mr. Abbot peeked up from his book and winked at her. “A hazard of marrying someone who is not local. But Edward is a good man and has done well for himself. It was a good match.” He chuckled. “Not that I was even courting Cecily when Edward stole Marjorie away from Lambton.” He lifted his book to read once again. “It would be nice to have more family settle in the area,” he muttered.

  He had not lifted the book quite high enough to hide the knowing smile that accompanied the statement, and Elizabeth was positive that it was done purposefully. The Abbots were so happy in their marriage that any news that hinted at another possible happy match always brought out their teasing natures.