“Mr. Darcy, the bath is ready and the physician should be on his way soon,” Julia said. “Can I help?”
“No, thank you, Julia. I will care for her and ring if I need assistance. Send the doctor the moment he arrives.”
Lizzy murmured a weary thank you, Julia squeezing her arm then hastily departing. Finally Darcy relinquished her onto a sofa and began removing her filthy clothing, tossing the garments in a far corner to be disposed of later.
“Beloved, tell me about the pains.”
“They started after I fell, when… he…” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before resuming, “They are not overly painful and intermittent, but it scares me, William. The book said pains are not right until closer to the end.”
“It also said stress can bring on labor pains, Elizabeth. I remember that. Today assuredly qualifies.” He had most of her clothing off, only her chemise remaining. He held her gaze, speaking calmly as he untied the ribbons to her undergarment, “Do you feel any bleeding? Has the baby been moving?”
“No bleeding, I do not think, and he has been active. He is now.”
Darcy placed his hand over her bared belly, their child lazily flipping under his palm. Despite his fears and anxiety, he could not resist smiling. He bent for a kiss, caressing her gently. “He is strong, my love, and feels healthy and unperturbed.” He lifted his eyes with a smile, meeting Elizabeth's. She was watching him with a strange expression, pale and haunted. He frowned, rising hastily to clasp her chin with his fingers, studying her disturbed countenance. “What is it? Are you in pain now?”
She shook her head, staring. “I… William, do you still want… Are you repulsed by what he… his hands touching me? I feel so dirty and ashamed! I was so afraid he would kill you that I willingly went with him and then he… if I disgust you, I understand.” Her words were halted by a crushing and thorough kiss, Darcy's hands firm about her neck with thumbs stroking her cheeks. It only lasted a few seconds, ending with tender nibbles to her lower lip, Darcy breathing heavily.
His voice was husky with emotion when he spoke, eyes blazing with ardent love. “Elizabeth, I love you! Nothing that happened today was your fault. Nothing! As soon as you are well, I shall obliterate any memory of another's touch. I will remind you of my devotion on every inch of your skin, burning away any trace of him. I promise you this! In the meantime, let me wash away all evidence of today.”
Darcy bathed his wife head to toe with a touch gentle and loving, for the first time ever not becoming aroused by her nakedness. His only desire was to comfort. Stripped to the waist, he sat on a stool by the tub, soaping and scrubbing while she relaxed, nearly falling into a doze. They spoke little, although she did tell him the pains had ceased and there was clearly no bleeding.
The physician arrived just as Darcy placed his damp wife onto the bed. Allowing a maid to dress Lizzy in a nightgown of Julia's, Darcy explained the events of the day to the doctor and described her complaints. A complete exam showed all to be normal. The doctor's recommendation was for her to rest, staying immobile for a couple days at the least. Her bottom was bruised, which may cause some discomfort, but otherwise, he concluded, she was in remarkable health, all things considered.
“Mr. Darcy, I am fairly confident the pains were a result of the stress and shock, augmented by her reported frenzied activity and the fall probably irritating weakened muscles. She needs quiet and rest. The episode has emotionally disturbed her and she needs comforting. However, no activity for two days if the pains remain absent, longer if they resume. No activity, is this clear?” His penetrating gaze left no question as to his meaning.
Darcy flushed slightly, for the first time consciously aware of his improper state of dress. He stiffened, not sure he appreciated the insinuations, but nodded. “I understand.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Peace
They tarried for three days in the company of the Sitwells. After a refreshing night's sleep in her husband's arms, Lizzy was nearly her old self. The pains did not return, although her rear end sported an amazingly colorful bruise that was exceedingly tender. She had sporadic nightmares, waking screaming or crying with Victor's face floating in her mind. Darcy was always there, soothing with caresses and kisses until she calmed and returned to sleep.
Julia Sitwell was a constant companion during the daylight hours. She and Lizzy actually delighted in their extended visit, spending hours reclining on comfortable chaises placed under shady trees alongside gently lapping ponds. Darcy hesitantly succumbed to the persuasion of his wife and joined Rory in a fox hunt, horseback riding, and numerous games of faro and billiards, the outcomes of the latter as he had anticipated. The planned excursion to Castleton, Peveril Castle, and Peak Cavern was cancelled, obviously, Darcy beginning to privately suspect a conspiracy to prevent his wife ever seeing the Peak District! Lizzy merely laughed at his theory, restating the fact that the Peaks were going nowhere. Her joy was in the security of their child, who continued to dance on her bladder and demand sustenance on a frequent basis, utterly unaware of the worry inflicted on his poor parents.
Phillips's fever raged uncontrollably for two days. The physician offered meager hope, the ability to counteract infections of this magnitude minimal. Darcy sent Mr. Anders to retrieve Mrs. Phillips and the children from Pemberley. Whether it was the excellent medical care, the love of family, or Phillips's own intestinal fortitude and sturdiness they would never know, but on the morning of the third day, his fever broke. Lizzy, who was forbidden to leave the confines of her bed and visit, cried with heartfelt relief. It was a slow recovery thereafter, but Phillips was fortunate. No bones were broken and the tissue healed without defect. In three weeks, he would be home and partially resuming his duties.
Darcy dealt with all the legal issues regarding the surviving bandits and the two dead ones. It was a routine process involving numerous questions but little else, the case being clear cut. Darcy flatly refused to allow Lizzy to be questioned and there was no need. The Darcy name alone was enough for the magistrate to inquire minimally and render harsh judgment, but the added testimony of Mr. Anders and Phillips left no doubt.
Faced with the doctor's proscription, Darcy was unable to make love to his wife until they returned to Pemberley, a decision Lizzy was none too happy about. She could not argue the logic in being cautious, but she was not pleased. Darcy feared her fragile emotional state far more than curbing his own desires. As in April, the thought of harming his wife or their unborn child was so horrendous that his personal lust was easily cooled. However, remembering Lizzy's verbalized assumption that he would be repulsed by her after Victor's disgusting caresses, he desperately longed to show her how wholly unfounded her apprehension. The balance allotted him the ability to embrace her, caress her body tenderly, kiss possessively, and whisper words of adoration without becoming unduly aroused. In the end, these minor liberties probably allayed any residual horrors from her ordeal more proficiently than actually making love. Darcy's ceaseless fondling and devotion without physical gratification on his part was entirely selfless and effectively erased all residual memory of the thief's touch.
They were greeted on Pemberley's long avenue with a line of horse wagons, Duke Grafton's breeding mares having arrived an hour prior. Darcy hastily kissed Lizzy's cheek, abdicating her care into the steady competence of Mrs.