Her words broke the spell. Darcy stepped to the bed and smothered her with kisses. “Elizabeth, how long?” He held her gaze with his.

“Six months.”

His hand palmed the swell of her stomach. “Our child.” He planted a tender kiss where his hand caressed her. “When may I tell the others?”

“Under the circumstances, with death in the house, it seems incongruous to mention life,” she cautioned.

“Yet even with death all around, life goes on.That is the beauty of it—of God’s greatest gift to man. Our child, Elizabeth. I am nine and twenty and am a wealthy man at last. Pemberley could fall down around my head, and I would still know happiness, for I will have you and our child.”

“Am I to be the only one to undress tonight?” she taunted.

Darcy’s smile grew by the second.“I believe I might acquiesce.” He loosened his cravat and tossed it on the floor. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Elizabeth corrected, “Mrs. Bingley is the beautiful one in my family.”

“I beg to differ, Mrs. Darcy. From the moment I saw you, I could not withdraw my eyes from the classic beauty of your face. You possessed me.” He kissed Elizabeth’s temples, her lips, her cheeks, and the corners of her mouth. “You are the breath—the wind—the sun—my everything.” He claimed her mouth and let love consume him. Darcy thought of nothing but his wife and the life she brought to his home. “Holding you in my arms is more exquisite than holding the sky and the stars,” he whispered as he loosened the cords holding back the bed’s drapery.


James watched from the raised dais behind the fireplace. The sight of Fitzwilliam Darcy making love to his wife—the delectable former Elizabeth Bennet—sickened him. He had once thought it possible that he, too, might know such happiness—a living—a chance to make his name mean something—a wife who would look at him the way Elizabeth Darcy did her husband. As much as James had tried, none of those hopes had come to fruition. With his every loss, Fitzwilliam Darcy gained. Now, the man was to have his heir— an heir for the great estate of Pemberley. The Darcy legacy would continue, written in the annals of British history, while his legacy floundered like a fish on dry land. What did he have to show for all his efforts: a rented room, a trade he despised, and a simpering woman clinging to his every move. And all of it was Fitzwilliam Darcy’s fault. Every failure came from Darcy. He had not come to Derbyshire to exact a revenge on Darcy, but James would take pleasure in extinguishing Darcy’s dreams. When he left Pemberley, he would take Elizabeth Darcy and the man’s heir with him. He would leave Darcy nothing—the man had just said that only his wife and unborn babe brought him happiness. Did he not deserve happiness also? Why should Darcy be the golden child?

Secretly, he watched as Darcy undressed and finally released the drape of his wife’s four-poster, cocooning them in their love nest. “Enjoy it while you can, Darcy,” he whispered to the darkness. “Soon it will be I.” He slid the slit closed, locking away the image of contentment he had observed for the past thirty minutes. Picking up the candelabra, he made his way to his makeshift bed. He would need to accelerate the pace of his plan. The worst of the storm had come and gone.Within the next several days, the players would disperse, and he would lose his opportunity to blame Darcy for a series of murders—his chance to destroy Darcy’s reputation and his life, an added benefit of his original plan. While he saw to her—saw that she knew misery of the bitterest kind—he would enjoy the Darcy diversion. The reason for his trip into Derbyshire would know the depth of his ire and know how she had brought shame to all who had once revered her name.

Chapter 10

“Mr. Worth, you resemble the cat licking the cream,” Anne de Bourgh teased from across the breakfast table.

The gentlemen slathered blackberry preserves on sliced dark bread. “I had a restful night,” he noted.

“Pleasant dreams, then?”Anne’s eyes sparkled with girlish mischief.

“Indeed, Miss de Bourgh.”Worth assessed the woman’s countenance. “I dreamed of infinite possibilities.”

Anne’s smile grew. “As did I, Mr.Worth.”

“I was hoping, Miss de Bourgh, that I might interest you in seeing your cousin’s conservatory. Mrs. Darcy assures me that she has cultivated several new species of roses. I am most eager to see them.”

Anne shot a quick glance at the other end of the table, where Darcy spoke to his sister. “I would be delighted to accompany you, Mr.Worth.” She lowered her voice as if speaking in secret.

Worth noticed her reticence.“Have I placed you in an awkward position, Miss de Bourgh? I would not for the world have you spoken poorly of,” he whispered for her ears only.

“No, sir, I have only…only of late taken my life in my own hands, and I, at times, am still unsure of what I should and should not accept.” Anne dropped her gaze, staring at the coddled eggs on her plate.

“I assure you, Miss de Bourgh, I have only the highest regard for you.”

Anne moved the bits of egg around with a fork. “I will meet you in the hallway leading to the conservatory in three-quarters of an hour.”

Worth wanted to say something reassuring, but the lady’s mother entered the morning room. He still did not know how best to respond to Lady Catherine—what he would prefer to say to the woman reeked of disrespect, and he refused to allow his dislike for the way the woman treated her daughter to interfere with his interactions with Anne de Bourgh. His courtship of her. Suddenly,Worth realized that it was a courtship. Out of death comes life, he thought.

“You are up early, Anne,” Lady Catherine remarked.

“I am, Mother.” Anne filled her mouth to avoid conversation.

“You must guard your health, Child. You have never been strong; a full night’s sleep can only benefit your constitution,” Her Ladyship cautioned.

Anne muttered, “I am no longer a child, Mother.”

Lady Catherine stared disapprovingly at her daughter. “You are my child, no matter your age,” the woman declared to the entire table. “And as your mother, I have a responsibility to guide you.”

Anne wanted to offer a retort, but a slight shake of Darcy’s head warned her to think again. She touched her napkin to her mouth. “If you will excuse me,” she announced to the room. “I have some tasks in my chamber to which to attend.”

Mr. Worth rose to acknowledge Anne’s speedy exit. He had watched the interaction between mother and daughter closely. Anne de Bourgh evidently sought release from the control her mother exerted over her, much to Her Ladyship’s displeasure. He wondered how he might fit into the equation. He had developed a fondness for Miss de Bourgh, but he did not wish to be an instrument for the lady’s rebellion. As he considered the possibility, he quickly ascertained the disparity in their social status—something he had not considered over the past few days. Being thrown together, society took a back seat to the storm. Now, he saw the futility of such a suit. As the younger son of a minor lord, he had nothing to offer her in rank. He would meet Miss Anne as he requested, but he would make it clear to the lady that he did not have—could not have—designs on her.


“And where is Mrs. Darcy?” Lady Catherine asked sarcastically. “Does she keep city hours in the country?”

“No, Your Ladyship, I do not.” Elizabeth swept into the room, pausing only long enough to squeeze Darcy’s outstretched hand before taking in the morning table’s offering. “I have been in the east wing seeing to the renovations of the last three guest rooms we will be remodeling this winter.” After filling her plate with ham and buttered toast, Elizabeth returned to the table, taking the seat on Darcy’s left.

“Mr. Baldwin, Mrs. Darcy needs her favorite chocolate.” Darcy winked at Elizabeth.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” The butler motioned to one of the footmen to fill Elizabeth’s cup.

Tsk. “Mrs. Darcy should be more observant of her appearance; she should look to her waistline,” Lady Catherine observed.

“Actually,Aunt, I find my wife’s curves most befitting her position as the mistress of Pemberley. No true citizen of Derby would take orders from a waif of a girl.” He gave Elizabeth an enigmatic smile.

“Thank you, my Husband.” Elizabeth bit back the laughter bubbling up. They shared a secret regarding their future, and it was lusciously satisfying to know Darcy’s devotion to her.

“Well, I still believe a woman who has been raised to Mrs. Darcy’s’s standing should be more cognizant of the image she creates.” Lady Catherine attacked the eggs and ham on her plate.

Elizabeth feigned humility. “I will take your advice to heart, Lady Catherine.” She quickly turned her attention to Mr. Worth. “Do you plan to see the conservatory today, sir?”

“I shall, Mrs. Darcy, with your permission, of course.” Worth placed his cutlery beside his plate in preparation for his departure.

Elizabeth smiled at how she had maneuvered Worth and Anne together. “I am most eager for your opinion of my horticultural adventures.”

The man chuckled. “Your manipulations, Mrs. Darcy, will be carefully noted.” He left before he betrayed to the others what he suspected of his hostess.

When the man departed, Lady Catherine observed, “I am not sure that I approve of Mr.Worth’s attentions to Anne.”

“Why not?” Georgiana spoke before she thought. Elizabeth had asked Darcy’s sister’s help in convincing Anne of Mr. Worth’s sincerity, and the girl thought the whole situation quite romantic.