Dear Readers: This novel does contain references to rape and abuse. I understand that these are sensitive topics, and I would not wish for any reader to suffer as a result of coming across these references without warning.

Be advised, this story is rated M.

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Chapter 15

Darcy shut the door to his bed chamber and fell into bed, exhausted. Today had been a day of conflicting emotions and confusion ending in torment and shame. During Anne's episode he had felt so helpless at her distress. The thought of the terror in her panic-stricken gaze as she looked to him for help, came into his thoughts and held. It was the image he could not forget and seemed to torment him every time he allowed himself to think. He flinched then as he recalled Elizabeth's countenance. Time had stilled and he hated himself for his lack of consideration. He knew vaguely she had known violence by the hand of her husband Mr Collins, but in that moment surely, he could not be blamed for his reactions. He had been running purely upon his instincts.

What had Elizabeth been subjected to that she would fear him in such a manner.

Suddenly his mind returned unbidden to the memory of her smiles and their easiness with each other, that morning when they had walked together. What had he been thinking when he had conversed with her that morning? He knew he was not the sort of man that had any intention of seeking his fulfilment outside of his marriage. Scrubbing his hands roughly over his face and rubbing at his eyes, he groaned pathetically.

"I am such a fool!" he laughed humourlessly.

Darcy was already making a disgrace of those vows as he had married without the intention of having a conventional marriage. He had long accepted his fate and had made his peace with it but there was an undeniable truth that he only allowed himself to acknowledge in the darkest recesses of his mind.

He was lonely.

For a sweet moment, he had allowed himself to lean into Elizabeth. He had not given a second thought to the rest of their party in the next room, all that had mattered was her and him and the burning need within. The guilt he felt, was lessened slightly by the fact that he had walked away. For Anne, he had walked away and from here on he would be more careful than to allow himself to be alone with Elizabeth.

Enough was enough. He knew better and he was raised to be a better sort of man.

His thoughts left him disturbed and anxious and he knew he would not find a restful sleep this night.

The next week passed painfully slowly.

Elizabeth spent her time with Jane and Charlie, making wreaths and putting together baskets of offerings for the tenants and the workers in Meryton. More often than not they were accompanied by Mary, Kitty and Lydia. The latter not as pleasant company as the former.

Little Charlie was a treasure, from his little laugh and spit bubbles, to his chubby cheeks and curly hair. It was hard not to notice that the young babe took more after Lydia, than Mr Bingley. Jane had voiced her worries over this to Elizabeth more than once.

"What if the similarities between Charlie garner attention? What if people question if I am his true mother?" she had voiced her concerns as they had taken tea in a private parlour together.

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth had dismissed, "Caroline is not fair, but neither am I compared to you. Regardless, you have raised him thus far. As of right now you are his mother, Jane," she had reassured as best she could, although she troubled over the same thoughts.

The rest of her time had been spent reading to Anne and keeping her company. Mr Darcy always excused herself when she entered Anne's apartments. If he had riled at her or sparred verbally with her, Elizabeth felt it would have been better and relieved the tension, but he did not. He did not even look at her. And so now they had fallen into a routine of being aware of the others existence but nothing more.

Despairingly, Anne showed no signs of improvement. It seemed as though she were steadily declining and though she was putting a brave show for them all, it appeared as though she were preparing them all for her departure. Anne would no longer talk of the future as if she would be there to play any part of it and in her eyes, Elizabeth beheld only relief, where she would naturally expect to see fear.

Mr Darcy had continued to call her Annie as Elizabeth had learned that was what he called her when he was worried for her. The name he used to sooth her. It was the only outward sign, that he gave that he was anxious over his wife's condition. Mr Darcy had also sent for the Darcy family physician to come and stay at the local inn. He saw to Anne every evening and he appeared graver each time he left her.

Elizabeth was unsure as to whether Anne was starting to fall into a delirium in her illness. She had begun extolling all of Mr Darcy's virtues as though he were her son and Elizabeth a potential bride. Anne had received letters from Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr Darcy's sister and cousin, detailing how they would come to visit a sennight after Christmas due to her poor health.

But this morning, on the eve of Christmas, the most miraculous thing had happened. Anne was sitting up in bed. Her maid had readied her, and she was sipping her tea and eating some toast, with Mr Darcy sat beside her.

"Elizabeth! I was wondering when you would come by," she smiled.

"Anne, you are sounding much stronger this morning! How do you feel?" Elizabeth replied, rushing to her side.

"I am well truly! In fact, I would much appreciate your help in twisting Mr Darcy's arm, so that I might go outside for a little fresh air," Anne said, turning a teasing glance at her husband.

Elizabeth froze and her eyes went immediately to Mr Darcy.

"Well, I had not… that is… If Mr Darcy agrees -"

"Lizzy, you are bad as him! I am not asking to go riding or even walking, I just wish to sit outside. I have been cooped in for days!" Anne cut in, beseeching them both.

"I will agree -" began Mr Darcy.

"Thank you, husband," she said, not waiting for him to finish speaking, "Sally, please could you help me change into-"

"I will agree, only if you allow me to carry you out to the bench. You will wear furs and one of my coats and have warmed bricks in the pockets." He finished.

"Fitzwilliam, I think that to be a bit extreme," she rolled her eyes looking at Elizabeth for support.

"I am afraid on this one occasion; Mr Darcy and I agree. You will only receive my full endorsement if you agree to those terms," said Elizabeth with a shake of her head, though her eyes were glittering with mirth and complete joy at seeing her friend looking so well.

"Spoil sports! Very well, I will agree to your terms."

They all began to laugh, and when Anne looked down in order to hide her grimace, Elizabeth chanced a look at Darcy and saw that he had seen it too. Anne's ribs must still be causing her discomfort, but then Elizabeth's was still hurt a little if she twisted suddenly. These things took time to heal.

Soon enough, they were making their way outside together. Mr Darcy carried Anne in his arms moving with exaggerated caution and concentration. Jane, Mr Bingley and Charlie had decided to accompany them, whilst Caroline and the hursts had gone for a ride into town for a change of scenery.

After much fussing and five fur's later, Mr Darcy finally relaxed a began to breathe. Elizabeth promised not to leave her side and took a seat beside her on the bench.

"It is no good for him, you know," said Anne filling the silence.

"What isn't?" Elizabeth asked, distractedly watching Jane ramble closer holding little Charlie's hands to help him make the steps himself on the uneven ground.

"Being allowed to be so serious, glowering all the time! Perhaps if I were to throw a snowball with enough precision to knock his hat off his head."

Elizabeth gasped and let out a startled giggle.

"There, now, that has taken the edge off," she chuckled wheezily.

"Anne?" called Darcy.

"I am fine. Please, stop fussing," she assured him rolling her eyes at Elizabeth conspiratorially.

Jane reached them then sitting on the other side of Anne, and for a time they spent time playing with Charlie. He loved the snow and soon Mr Darcy amused the small boy by building different animals in the snow and helping him to walk over them and smushing them. This brought forth delicious peals of the laughter from the small child, that even Mr Bingley could not resist laughing along with.

"I am surprised at Mr Darcy's attentions to Charlie," said Jane, immediately gasping and bringing a hand to her mouth, "Forgive me, I had not meant for that to sound quite as appalling as it did," she added realising how her statement sounded.

"It is quite all right. Charlie did look unsure of what to make of him when he first approached him. I have always thought he will be an excellent father; he was always so good with Georgiana after their parents had passed," Anne replied with a sad sigh.

"Yes, he seems to have a way with him," Jane replied, but her eyes were trained on her own husband.

"I have always imagined Darcy at Pemberley with both sons and daughters playing on the front lawn. The girls will wear ribbons in their hair and the boys would be pretending to fence with sticks and perhaps a couple of dogs running about…" Anne spoke wistfully, giving Elizabeth a pointed look.

What could she mean by such a look mean? Elizabeth thought, as Anne looked from her to Mr Darcy with a barely perceptible nod in his direction.

"Charlie!" called Jane, "Come, it is time for us to go inside before you catch a cold."

As she moved away from them, Mr Darcy took her place, "Would you like to stay longer? I could order you some more warm bricks?" he asked softly, removing a gloce and pressing his hand to her forehead, but she shook him off as Jane and Charlie passed and went back inside.

"I would like to go back inside; I find the fresh air has quite a tiring affect. Before we do… would either of you indulge me and place some snow into my hands?" she asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Elizabeth looked at Anne as she held her hands cupped in her lap trying not to laugh. Bending and picking up a handful of snow, she placed it into Anne's hand and watching in astonishment as the lady winked and then threw it at Mr Darcy, who dodged it easily.

"That is not fair, sir!" Anne complained and pressed her cold hands to his cheeks.

Elizabeth and Anne giggled as Mr Darcy flinched and shuddered.

"That is funny, is it?" he questioned picking up his own handful of snow and pressing it into a ball.

Both women, gasped and lifted their hands in preparation to fend off the attack. Then turning suddenly, he launched it at Mr Bingley and catching him squarely in the face. Blubbering Mr Bingley looked at Darcy quizzically.

"Well, I could hardly pelt my wife with the snowball. In this instance you are Mrs Darcy," he shrugged unapologetically making Anne and Elizabeth fall about laughing. Anne sobering quickly when the pain in her ribs began to throb.

Mr Bingley began to form his own rather large snowball, but Mr Darcy quickly swooped Anne into his arms as his friend had been about to throw it.

"You are not playing fair, Darcy!" accused Bingley.

"I am just being a dutiful husband," he replied innocently.

"Hmmm…" replied Bingley as Darcy turned away.

Mr Darcy did not notice; however, that Anne gestured to Bingley behind his back for him to hand her his snowball. Grinning playfully, he snuck the snowball into her hand behind his friends' neck and doubled over with laughter as she rubbed it into his face.

Stopping in his tracks and turned slowly back to face Mr Bingley, only served to make the gentleman laugh harder. Elizabeth could no longer fight the contagion and began to laugh heartily along as Anne tried to clean Mr Darcy's face.

"Just you wait Charles, I will get you back, but when you are least expecting it," he warned but could not hide his large, dimpled grin.

And so, they all made their way back into the house in much lifted spirits. It felt good to have the awkward tension between them forgotten for a short while, the reprieve made the day seem brighter and the air seem crisper. To Mrs Darcy's delight, her husband did not take her straight to her bedchamber. Instead, he deviated and settled her into the music room and once the fire was lit and tea was served, they sat waiting for Jane to join them.

"Oh, please do play for us Elizabeth," said Mr Bingley when the topic arose.

"I am sure I am not anywhere near as proficient as what you are all used to hearing. And you cannot lie to me Mr Bingley, I have heard both of your sister's play and they are very good indeed." Replied Elizabeth.

"Well, Jane has spoken of how much she loved to sit a listen to you play when you were at Longbourn together."

"Ah, but she is my sister and would hardly say I were bad now, would she?" she smiled before adding, "She is all that is good and pure. It would take a great deal for her to not see a person's virtues, and yet she would never be cruel in retaliation, only fair."

"You are not wrong," Bingley replied, speaking the words so softly they could barely be heard.

"I think I should like to hear you play, Lizzy. It would be the perfect way to celebrate my good health…" Anne said, bringing her hand to rest delicately upon her chest.

"Very well, have it your way. But I gave you fair warning as to my level of skill," Elizabeth conceded teasingly.

"Excellent!" said Anne clapping, "Fitzwilliam will help you turn the pages."

Both Elizabeth and Darcy could not hide their moment of discomfort, but Anne gave them no time to make any excuses as she immediately struck up a conversation with Mr Bingley.

It had been a long while since Elizabeth had played and cared about how her performance would be heard. Now she sat waiting for Mr Darcy to stop fidgeting beside her.

If he moves any further away from her, he will fall from his seat on the stall. I would not be surprised if he were simply hovering over the seat. She thought glancing at him, and his long legs perfectly displayed in his black trousers.

"Ready," she said in effort to distract herself from thoughts of his muscular thighs.

He nodded and watching in rapt attention as her fingers began to move over the keys, their effort hypnotic and entrancing.

"Mr Darcy?" he heard coming from somewhere distant.

"Mr Darcy?" he heard firmer this time, he looked up to find Anne and Bingley talking in hushed tones across the room, then he turned his puzzled gaze to the bewitching lady beside him.

"I need you to turn the page, I fear if I play these chords again, they will catch on…" whispered Elizabeth.

"My apologies," he said quietly, moving to reach across and turn the page.

"I suppose I could make up my own tune… but I do not have the skill nor the finesse to accomplish the task of a composer." she teased, her breath fanning across his cheek.

Darcy looked resolutely ahead, hoping the heat he felt upon his cheeks would not reveal itself in a blush. His wife was in the room and the room and no doubt smugly happy at her successful manipulation of everyone in the room.

"Mr Darcy?" he heard Elizabeth's soft whisper again.

In his haste to look as though he had been paying attention, he moved to turn the page too quickly and his thigh brushed hers, causing her fingers to stumble over the keys. Laughing self-consciously Elizabeth looked up, their gaze's clashed and the air grew thick. Abruptly turning away and trying to focus on the music sheets blurring before her, she glanced about for a distraction.

"I wonder what they are speaking of. It looks rather involved," Elizabeth of Mr Bingley and Anne, said without thinking.

Mr Darcy's reaction was instant. His spine stiffened and he moved back to the other end of the bench giving her some much-needed breathing space. And though she would not allow herself in this moment, she knew that later this evening when alone in her room she would replay how his this had pressed against hers, and his smell had cocooned her. Earthy forest. Soapy cologne.

Warm musk.

Mr Darcy. She thought subconsciously as she breathed in deeply, leaning into him a fraction more.

"Do not worry over breaking any confidences Mr Darcy. I have no doubt that we can both draw our own conclusions as to the topic of their conversation…" Elizabeth spoke watching Mr Darcy's reaction keenly.

"I shall not reveal any confidences, madam." He replied blandly.

"You will say no more?" Elizabeth asked, arching a brow.

"And what would you have me say?"

"The truth," she said, her eyes flashing with challenge.

"And what reaction do you wish from me with such a statement? The truth of what? The truth can be open to many interpretations," he said after a moment's pause.

"What a deflection, sir!" she mocked.

"But you had stated neither of us are to break any confidences? Perhaps if you had been bolder in your question?" he volleyed.

"And you would answer such a pointed question? Break a vow between you and your friend?" she replied with a terseness and edge to her voice, her fingers moving quicker over the keys in her agitation.

Leaning forward to turn the page, Darcy used it as the perfect excuse to bring himself closer once more.

"There is nothing I would not give you…" he whispered reverently before he could think better of it.

The atmosphere shifted and she gave up all pretence of playing. Jane entered the room at the same moment as Elizabeth turned agape to look at Mr Darcy, who was looking at her with such an intensity she felt the longing she had felt with him before.

Elizabeth's body felt restless with a want and a need for something she did not understand.

But her anger and disappointment had her wanting to demand answers from him about Bingley and his dalliance with Lydia. Once again, she pulled herself away from the entrancing caress of his stare and back to her sister who was trying valiantly to sit beside her husband, and not show her despair.

When a warm hand closed over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze claiming her attention once more.

"All will be well, I will personally see to it," Mr Darcy vowed searching her countenance.

Elizabeth tried to understand him, what would be well? With my Marriage? With my relationship with my family? Between Jane and Bingley?

She opened her mouth to give voice to her thoughts, and instantly choked on her words as Mr Darcy's eyes dropped to her mouth and darkened. He opened his own mouth mirroring her and leaned in, his gaze unwavering from her lips… Time seemed to suspend and everything around them blurred and stilled, making that small fraction of a second feel like an hour.

Just then Miss Bingley and the Hursts bustled into the room and broke the thrall that had woven its heady spell cocooning them.

He rose to his full height, his impossibly blue stare piercing her with an intensity that stole her breath. She blinked no words forthcoming; her heart pounding within her chest so loudly she would not be surprised if he could hear it.

"Thank you for indulging us. Nobody who has had the pleasure of hearing you play, could ever find anything wanting in your performance." Spoke Mr Darcy softly.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy." she said not uncomprehendingly.

Mr Darcy smiled gently and held out his arm to escort her back to join the return of the other guests.