This should have been posted with yesterdays chapter but I ran out of time and have been slacking something fierce this week. Thanks for putting up with the shenanigans!
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The next day
Netherfield Hall
Caroline congratulated herself on her calm, impeccable demeanor on the previous evening. She had managed to contain her shock perfectly well and even her disgust, she was quite sure, was hardly noticeable. Not only had she conducted herself in a ladylike manner during the horrid assembly but, while she couldn't know for certain, she was sure she had hardly screamed during the event.
She couldn't yet bring herself to call it what it had been. A compromise. And not in the way she had always dreamed of with His Grace.
She sat on her padded stool, looking at her perfect visage in the mirror while her typically inept lady's maid readied her hair and imagined, for the very last time, herself as a duchess.
Truthfully, the image had lost its luster. Not the image of her, of course, that still shone brighter than anyone before. But, the idea of marriage to the Duke has lost its appeal. She did not feel the anger she thought she would, nor did she feel the need to sabotage the happy, if vulgar, couple. Instead of feeling anger she just felt sad. Hollow.
She missed her husband.
That stupid, tiny Irishman had stolen her heart and it was the rudest thing anyone had ever done to her. How dare he? How dare he make her miss him? He was the one far too busy rebuilding his ancient castle to pay her any mind. He was the one who drove her away with his inattentiveness.
She sighed loudly and her maid cringed, assuming she had made another mistake. Caroline looked over her hair to find one to cover her crude emotions with but, to her utter disappointment, found none.
Nothing was going her way at the moment.
While she didn't truly want to be the Duchess of Montagu, she wasn't entirely happy with the situation at hand.
She knew from her maids that the Major General had brought someone into her home last night. Someone who had bled all over the sheets in the room in which they had been thrown.
She huffed, luckily spotting a hair out of place she could complain about. She tutored her maid diligently on the proper placement of that particular piece of hair, the piece that was absolutely not, not even remotely, sprinkled with a few grey hairs. Her maid fixed her sloppy work and left her alone with her thoughts.
She was worried. No longer for herself, but for her brother. The Duke and the Major General were up to something and were involving her brother in their schemes. Not only that but there was a foreign Duke in her home who was not even trying to be friendly, not even trying to be the barest of polite. No. There was something that needed to be done, Caroline was just the lady to do it.
She had need to rid herself of two Dukes and a Major General, and Lady Bedford was up to the task.
She nodded to herself triumphantly in the mirror before turning on her toes in a graceful (if not the most graceful) manner and leaving her rooms.
Only to run right into her most disconcerting Duke.
"Bonjour, Madam Bedford." The handsome, if bothersome Duke bowed to her, clearly waiting for her to leave her rooms. "I wonder if I might have a word with you? Were you aware of your newest guest in the house?"
"Yes, Your Grace, I am aware." She said tersely. Even if she hadn't she would have responded the same, it irked her he was coming to tell her of the goings on in her home.
Well, her brothers home, but she was in charge.
"I will be leaving you soon, to take up a house in… the north" Caroline heard the lie in his voice but she didn't truly care where he was so long as it wasn't at Netherfield. "I thought, to thank you for your… incroyable hospitality, I would be of assistance with ridding you of another of your house guests, non?" He smiled what she could tell he believed to be a persuasive smile.
Caroline had to bite her cheek to stop herself from saying something rash to the arrogant man.
But, still... He did have a point.
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Netherfield Hall
Bingleys Study
Darcy cringed as Richard calmed his laughter just long enough to wipe tears from his eyes. The story wasn't that humorous, for God's sake.
"So - so then you picked her up, in the middle of the ballroom and kissed her?!" He dissolved into another grossly overstated fit of laughter.
To Darcy, it had been the single greatest night of his life so the humor his cousin found in it only served to make him rather perturbed.
"Richard, do stop making a spectacle of yourself."
This only prompted further laughter. "Yes, we can't all be like you." He barely got the words out for the laughing.
He wiped his eyes again before slowing bringing himself under control, still chuckling every now and then. "Was she happy?"
Darcy immediately began to respond in the positive only to stop himself. Was she? She had said yes, hadn't she?
"Yes?" He responded, finding his own voice rather weak.
"You don't know?" Richard had sobered but still looked annoyingly amused.
"No." Darcy snapped. "She was whisked away rather quickly." He turned abruptly to look out the window.
He stared at a small figure, obviously female, trudging through the mud forcefully heading directly towards Nether- oh God.
It was Elizabeth.
Her bonnet had been blown off and her tumble of unruly curls had very nearly exploded. He would know those curls anywhere.
He swallowed thickly, excitement warring with fear. He was a peer of the realm, he had faced down half of the House of Lords at one time or another and made enemies of the other half. He had spent years being reviled by the ton, being accepted for only his title but talked about incessantly and not even quietly. He had done all of that and never once had he been afraid. Lonely and bitter, perhaps, but never afraid.
This small woman stomping directly towards him scared him to his core.
"Richard." Darcy snapped at his gawking cousin. "Get out." The bastard chuckled some more. "Now." He didn't take his eyes from the approaching storm that was his Elizabeth. "And tell Bingley to have her sent in here." He called over his shoulder before his cheerful cousin retreated to safety, leaving him to brave the coming onslaught.
He took a deep breath and turned to the writing desk once she had come around to the side of the house and out of his view.
He was strong, a Duke!, he could handle a tiny woman he desperately wanted to make his wife.
He was sure of it.
Absolutely certain.
Yes.
He could hear the butler open the door for her and question why she was here at such an early hour. He groaned and stood from the desk, clearly he should have asked Richard to notify the butler instead of Bingley.
"Sir, I realize it is quite early but I have need to speak to… well, to speak with my fiancé, Mr. Darcy, er, Montagu, His Grace." Darcy stopped midstride, frozen by her words. The butler said something to her but he was facing away from the study and his voice didn't carry. "Yes, I will wait here." He heard Elizabeth's response and moved to leave the room.
It wouldn't do to keep his fiancée waiting.
He left the room with a grin. Once Elizabeth came into view, she looked up at him and matched his smile briefly before charging towards him, eyes twinkling but face inscrutable.
"You." She bellowed at him before grabbing his hand and dragging him back into the study.
"Good morning, fiancée." He beamed at her when they reached the study.
"Do not attempt to charm me, Your Grace, it will not work after the night I have had." She narrowed her eyes at him but they were far too soft to do the damage she intended.
"And what kind of night would that be, Elizabeth?" He forced all emotion from his voice, fear of rejection creeping into his mind. Stupid Richard and his stupid questions.
"You kissed me!" She threw her arms wide. "In front of all of Meryton!"
He cleared his throat. "Yes. I should apologize for that."
"Yes! You should!"
"I apologize if I embarrassed you."
"What? You're not sorry you picked me up and kissed me in front of people I have known my entire life?"
"Not really, no."
She stopped at that, mouth open, eyes wide. It was exactly the moment he needed.
"Elizabeth, listen to me." He was deadly serious in his tone. "I was wrong. I truly am sorry to have compromised you so… thoroughly." His lip ticked up at the word and she closed her mouth to smirk. "But, I promise you" he stepped forward. "With everything I am and with everything I have that I will endeavor everyday to make you happy. You will not regret marriage to me."
Her eyes softened fully and a small smile graced her lovely face. "It did not cross my mind to regret marrying you." She stepped forward as well, bringing them so close she needed to look up at him. "I am not an idiot, Your Grace, marrying a man I trust with my life is not something for which I would have cause to repine." He couldn't help himself, he reached out to touch her cheek lightly.
"That is good to hear, Elizabeth." His heart was thudding in his chest so hard he was sure she could hear it from her vantage point.
She closed her eyes at his soft touch and opened them with a full smile. "I do not know your name, Your Grace."
The sound of his heart beating wildly was nearly deafening and he tried to swallow down the emotion choking him.
"Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth. My name is Fitzwilliam."
"Fitz-" he cut her off with a kiss. He couldn't help it, he was sure to die if he heard his name come from her perfect lips.
They were occupied thus, happily, unable to hear the intruder walking into the study.
"My, but you two can not stop, can you?" The silky smooth, thickly accented voice sent shivers down Elizabeth's spine, Darcy could feel them travel the length of her back. They broke their kiss and she turned quickly putting her back to Darcy and standing in front of him protectively. He tried to move her but was unable, he instead put his hands on her shoulders, ready to move her forcibly if necessary.
The Duc chuckled. "Do not worry. I am not about to cause a scene here, now am I?" He smiled at them. "It has been a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Elizabeth. I feel as though we have known one another for a very long time, non?"
"What do you want?" Elizabeth ground out in a low, dangerous tone.
"Nothing for now, I assure you." He waved his hand dismissively "I have what I want. I will simply come back for the rest." Before they could question him, Bingley strolled into the room bouncing on his toes.
"Ahh, just the man I wanted to see! Richard told me-" He smiled wide to Darcy, oblivious to the standoff before him. "Oh, hello!" He said cheerfully to Elizabeth. "I do not believe we have been introduced." He looked pointedly to Darcy.
The Duc coughed politely. "Yes, before you begin your little, um, chat, I was simply coming to take my leave of His Grace." He smiled wickedly and bowed low. "It has been a great pleasure meeting you both. I am sure we will meet again." His smile never faltered and he turned quickly to leave.
All three watched him retreat quietly and Darcy could feel Elizabeth's shoulders, still so tense they were nearly meeting her ears, shake ever so slightly.
"Capital!" Bingley broke the silence with glee. "The man was rather unsettling, wasn't he?" He clapped his hands together. "Now where were we? Ah! Yes, introduce me, Darcy." He clapped him on his shoulder heavily in a very masculine show of exuberance. "I believe congratulations are in order!"
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