Hello! This is a plotline that has been done before, but it always fascinates me. I'm not completely sure what will happen along the way of this story, but I'm looking forward to finding out. Nervous to share this with you all, but please share your input and reviews as new ideas are helpful since this story is not yet fully written. :)
Enjoy! And remember, I am not Jane Austen and do not own any of these characters.
The pitter patter of rain outside the window was the first noise she became aware of. A dull ache in the back of her head encouraged her to keep her eyes closed, enjoying the quiet of a wet afternoon. A deep breath brought in the pleasing aroma of lavender; her maid must had distributed some of the herb in her room. She reached for the pillow at her side, turning toward it with a yawn. As she moved onto her belly, it immediately became apparent the position would not be feasible. A jerk from within her abdomen caused her to sit straight up in bed. Lizzy yanked the bedcovers off of her and gasped. Calm. She told herself. I must be calm. Her abdomen was firm and rounded, the movement within unmistakable.
No. She blew out a breath, ignoring the pounding in her head. This can't be. Reaching for her chemise, she dragged it up to her waist and stared. Her skin stretched tight over the bulge within, and angry red marks ran parallel down either side of her belly. She pressed her hand against the mass and again felt movement within. Her breath quickened. How did this happen?
"Elizabeth?"
The deep voice startled her, causing her to squint in an attempt to make out the speaker. The man sat in a chair next to the bed, across from where she lay. She knew his voice, but struggled to make out his face. "Mr. Darcy?" Panic rose within her. If she hadn't felt faint before, she most certainly did now.
"Are you well? The child..." His words were soft, but they brought heat immediately to her cheeks. She pushed her chemise down quickly, then pulled the bedcovers up over her chest.
"What are you doing here?" Where was the sense in this situation? The pain in her head. The unfamiliar room. A child within her belly. Mr. Darcy in her bedchamber. What was the meaning of this?
He glanced out the window, his brow furrowed and lips curled into a frown. For several long moments he didn't speak, just stared out into the dreary sky beyond the house. At last, he turned his head and met her eyes. "I am your husband."
"I have never married." The words stumbled out before she had put much thought into them. In such odd circumstances, she really couldn't say what she had or had not done. She couldn't remember anything which would have led her to sitting in bed across from Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy on a rainy day.
"We married last fall. It will be a year next month." His dark eyes fell to her abdomen, then met hers again. "You have two months yet for your confinement."
She wanted to say something else, but she couldn't think of what to ask. There were too many questions, her situation too disturbing to try to understand. A glance at her hand revealed a gold ring around her third finger. Closing her eyes, she reached a hand toward her aching head. Breathe. She reminded herself. I must breathe. A kick in her belly diminished her determination to be calm, but she sought another deep breath.
A hand on her shoulder startled her out of the self-imposed therapy. "Is there much pain? Perhaps you ought to lie down."
Lizzy could hardly argue. Though as he reached for the bedcovers to assist her, she grabbed his wrist. "I am more than competent in putting myself to bed."
He dropped his hand, his gaze never wavering from her face. "Of course, my apologies. Please, rest. I will have a cup of tea brought."
Lizzy slid down in the bed, turning onto her side and watching him as he moved across the room to ring for the maid. He was taller than she remembered, though perhaps that was because she had never been so near him before. Of course, she had never had the desire to be so close to him. His attire was of the finest quality, but she detected wrinkles throughout his trousers and waistcoat which suggested he had spent some hours sitting in the chair at her side. His cravat was not straight, and his dark hair was tousled, more disheveled than she had ever seen him before. He turned away from the bell, moving back toward the bed.
"Please, sir," Lizzy hesitated. Was she in his house? Did she have any right to make a request?
"What is it?" He asked, inclining his head toward her as he bent toward the bed.
"Please go; leave me be." She turned her face away. She hoped he would listen to her, but she knew enough about this man to presume he would do as he pleased.
"Yes... I shall leave you with your maid. If you should need anything, please ask for me. Perhaps when you feel some strength returning... I might answer some of your questions."
"Very well." She desperately needed some answers for her own piece of mind. The child within her jerked in agreement.
When Elizabeth opened her eyes again, the pounding in her brain had subsided along with the rain. Sun shone in through the window, low in the sky as the day was nearing its end. Thankfully, a quick survey of the room revealed it to be empty. Mr. Darcy had honored her wish, and left her be. She sat up slowly, one hand pressing against her belly for support. She sat with her feet over the edge of the bed. The child within her was now still, but she was very aware of its presence.
She was now at a loss; she couldn't very well walk out of the room in her chemise, and she wasn't sure she was even up for that. Her stomach gurgled, and Lizzy idly wondered if someone would be bringing her dinner. Pushing herself to her feet, she moved toward the window. A bench was crafted into the design, and she easily slid onto the cushion to gaze outside. The sight which greeted her was beautiful. Rolling hills, wide open, green fields, and trees in a wooded area beyond. The sun hung low in the sky, vibrantly coloring the world with hues of pink, orange and blue. The view soothed her. Nothing about it was familiar, yet it brought a semblance of peace.
A soft knock sounded at her door. "Yes, come in." She invited.
A young maid entered the room, carrying a tray in her hands. "Would you care for some dinner, Mrs. Darcy?"
The title was startling. She stumbled over her words in response. "Y..yeesss. Yes. I very much would."
"Would you like to take it in the sitting room? The master asked if you would join him there." The maid bobbed her head toward the door at the side of her room.
Lizzy had never imagined she might wish to dine alone with Mr. Darcy, in a private sitting room no less, but she had many questions which needed answered. "I might ask if there is perhaps something else I might wear." She indicated the thin chemise she sat in. "Tis not proper for me to meet him in only my nightclothes."
The maid nodded and curtsied quickly, "Of course, ma'am. Let me just set this down, and I will help you dress."
The young woman was true to her word, and quickly picked out a simple dress for her to wear. Lizzy pulled her chemise off and handed it to the maid. Standing in front of the long mirror, she was able to have a full view of the changes which the child within her had brought about. Everything about her body seemed larger, fuller. She ran her hands across her belly, turning to the side to see how large her abdomen had become. She was fascinated, but also embarrassed. As the maid offered her a new dress, Lizzy quickly turned away from the mirror and allowed herself to be put together. Her hair was pinned up in a simple style, then her maid stepped aside.
"I believe the master is ready for you, ma'am."
"Thank you...I'm sorry, your name?"
"Baxter, ma'am. Jenny Baxter."
"Thank you, Baxter." Her maid curtsied and left her.
Lizzy stood at the large, interconnecting door with her hand on the knob. Oh, how she wished Jane were with her. Then she wouldn't have to face the man behind this door. And yet, if he was to be believed, he was her husband. She must listen to him, believe him, obey him. It was clear she had allowed privileges with her body to someone, though she could hardly imagine having said yes to Mr. Darcy even if she had somehow agreed to marry him. Her cheeks grew warm at the thought. Though a child was clearly growing and thriving inside of her, she had no recollections of the intimacies which had brought it about. Shaking her head to clear the thought, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Mr. Darcy was standing next to the window, his gaze fixed on the country side as she stepped into the room. As soon as he heard the door open, he turned and walked towards her. "Elizabeth." He stopped when he was a few steps away. "How are you faring?" His dark eyes were intent on hers, causing her some degree of unease.
Lizzy swallowed, looking away. "I am alright, sir, under these unique circumstances. I must confess to being a bit disconcerted, as I hardly remember what events would have led to my current situation."
"Come, sit." He gestured toward the small table at the far side of the room.
Lizzy attempted to hide her irritation that grew by his familiar demanding tone, as she recognized the sense in sitting down to eat. She followed him to the table, and allowed him to pull out her chair. He took the seat next to hers and waited for her to begin on her meal before he did likewise.
"I am at your disposal to answer any questions you may have. What do you remember?" He picked up his fork and began to cut into the roast on his plate.
"I remember nothing that would lead me to be sitting across from you, heavy with child." The words came once again without much forethought, and Lizzy felt her cheeks grow warm as she realized what she had eluded to. Darcy said nothing in reply to that, perhaps at a loss himself as to how to address such a sensitive topic, so she quickly added. "Charlotte. I remember being at the parsonage in Hunsford. You were visiting your aunt, but I daresay I have never had any sort of design on you as a marriage partner."
Darcy cleared his throat, "Yes." He seemed to be searching for the right words. "I came to the parsonage when you stayed behind from dining at Rosings. I asked for your hand in marriage that night."
"And I consented?" Lizzy couldn't keep the shock out of her voice. A thought suddenly struck her. "Oh no, my father... Is he... Did something happen to him?"
A clatter sounded as his knife hit his plate. "Excuse me." He set his cutlery down and pushed himself back in his chair, away from the table. He looked as if he might run back for the window. Instead, his dark eyes met hers. "Your father is, and has been, in excellent health as far as I am aware."
She nodded, understanding his frustration with her question. It suggested that she would only marry him under dire circumstances, for his name and protection alone. "I... forgive me. Please, do you know why I accepted you?"
"I understand your shock, Elizabeth. Forgive my unease. Much time has passed since we have discussed this. You once told me that we ought only remember the past as it brings us pleasure."
Lizzy's eyebrows rose, "Well that may be, however I cannot remember that past at all! How, then, am I to determine which brings me pleasure and which does not?"
"Of course you are correct." A heavy sigh left his lips.
Silence hung between them, seeming to stretch on and on. Lizzy focused on her plate, slowly cutting her food and taking small bites. He had given her only the smallest hint of an explanation. She saw it was hard for him to speak of, but she didn't understand why. Surely her could see it was more difficult for her to sit before him with no memory of the past? She had only his word to believe, though she couldn't imagine an alternative explanation that might satisfy her. She might have tried to deny his claim to their marriage had it not been for the obvious fact that she had been with some man. Women did not create babies on their own.
"It is difficult for me to speak of. This last year, we have so rarely discussed our history. You did not consent to become my wife when I asked at the parsonage. By point of fact, you claimed I was the last man you could possibly be compelled to marry."
Lizzy's eyes widened. "Then I was compromised?" The implications of the thought brought her to her feet, pushing back her chair. "I've always thought little of you, sir, but this... it has lowered my opinion all the more. You can be no gentleman."
She moved forward to sweep past him, but he was on his feet and had grabbed a hold of her arm before she could. "Elizabeth, stop."
She huffed, "I suppose I must listen to you because you've married me now? You'll demand everything from me, then? Even this?" She gestured to her rounded abdomen.
"I don't care if you think of me as a gentleman or not at this moment, I am your husband. Now sit down." He didn't grip her arm to the point of pain, but his hand was around her wrist firmly, unrelenting.
She shrugged away from him, but he only moved his arm to her shoulder so that he could guide her to sit near the fire. She sat on the edge of the sofa, hoping for an opportunity to leave the room.
"This will make you uncomfortable, but I feel it has need to be said. You married for love, Elizabeth. I will explain the full story if you will but give me a moment. Now, concerning this child that you are so concerned about. It must make you uneasy, not being able to remember our time in the marriage bed. You must feel imposed upon, but let me assure you Elizabeth that I have never imposed my will upon you in that regard. You were as pleased as I to discover you were with child."
Elizabeth's cheeks flamed with the heat of her embarrassment. "I cannot believe you would talk to me about... that." She put a hand to her face and covered her eyes.
Mr. Darcy used this as an invitation to continue. "I would talk to you about that, and more, Elizabeth. Since the day I took vows to you, I have never withheld my thoughts from you. You have been privy to every idea, every joy, even every fear since we were wed. You were the same with me before that stupid horse of yours kicked you in the head."
Elizabeth moved her hand, gazing up at him. "I don't understand you. I cannot... you were always so arrogant and what you did to Wickham..."
"I never treated Wickham in a dishonorable way. In fact, I made him to marry your sister Lydia after she ran off with him."
Here Elizabeth was silent. She couldn't believe the statement he had made, nor could she believe the conversation of the last half hour. It was pieces of information, too disjointed for her to understand the full picture. Had she then married him out of gratitude, which he mistook for love? Though it was difficult to imagine she would lie to a man, even Mr. Darcy, regarding her true feelings.
"I must retire." She stood. "My head... this is too much."
Instantly he was at her side, taking her arm in his. "Of course, let me assist you."
He had been so imposing of his will on her this evening that she could not deny him on this point, but let him lead her to her chambers. He settled her onto the edge of her bed, then moved to ring for the maid. Before he left through the interconnecting door between their rooms, he turned to her. "I may have said all manner of wrong things this evening, but please know this. I love you, Elizabeth, most ardently." With that he turned and left her room.