Chapter Sixty-seven

 

 

…look beyond the pretty face to the heart of a woman…

 

The night of the Middleton Ball, Elizabeth fretted over her hair, her dress, and her jewelry. Knowing her worry went deeper than her appearance, Fitzwilliam folded her in his arms.

“Elizabeth, you are a beautiful and elegant woman. No one who has seen you could ever deny that. Yes, there may be those there who are predisposed to find fault, but they are of no consequence. Others will see you as I see you—a very warm and beautiful woman. Besides,” he smiled, “Amanda and William will be there. Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so sure,” Elizabeth hesitated, “but I’ll do as you say and be myself. However, it is a relief to know Mandy will be there. At least I will have somebody to talk to.”

As his eyes took in her form dressed in the deep fuchsia pink silk-satin evening gown, he couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. The halter style flattered her bust, showing just enough cleavage to be alluring, and the skirt fell in elegant folds, clinging to her every curve, complementing her hourglass figure.

“No,” he whispered, “you’ll have far more than Mandy to talk to. Of that I am sure. Elizabeth, you are absolutely stunning. Every man’s head will turn when you are announced.”

“Don’t be silly. They won’t even notice me among so many guests.”

“Oh, they will notice you, my love. The fact that you are my wife will cause them to take notice. But it will be more than that. Trust me. You will be the most beautiful woman there.”

“I don’t know.” She dropped her gaze and shook her head. “I’m as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.”

He smiled and hugged her close. He knew the significance of this ball better than she did. The most important members of Parliament, the nobility, and possibly even some of the Royals would be there. But he wouldn’t tell her that. There was no need to increase her anxiety. He shook his head as he held her close. She’d do just fine, for she possessed the uncanny ability to rise to the occasion, and this time wouldn’t be any different. However, there were a few details that required his attention.

Feeling the tension ease from her body, he pulled back and stepped away. Walking over to his bureau, he opened the door and took out a small box. “Liz, come here. I have something for you.”

“What is it?”

“Come and see.”

Elizabeth crossed the short distance and took the box from his hand. When she opened it, she gasped. “Oh, these are beautiful! They match the hair sticks you bought me for Christmas when we became engaged.” Elizabeth lifted the piece from the box. It was a diamond necklace with a teardrop ruby framed in tiny diamonds with a bracelet, earrings, and a ruby ring to match, all set in platinum. She brushed her fingers over the deep fuchsia stone. “This ruby must be at least fifteen carats. You really shouldn’t have. You mother’s pearls are suitable and very lovely.”

“Yes, I should have. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted you to have your own jewels for tonight—not my mother’s, so I had Garrard make these for you. It’s the finest ruby they had, and it is twenty-five carats. When I saw the dress you chose, I knew these would complement it perfectly. Here, let me help you with it.” He took the choker from her hand and fastened it around her neck.”

Stepping back, he beamed. “You look lovely, Liz. Truly lovely. And,” he said as he brushed a lock of hair from her brow, “yes, they do match your hair sticks. The set looks lovely grouped together. Now let’s talk about your announcement. The ladies are announced as they descend the stairs to the ballroom. You will give a card to the servant at the top of the stairs before descending. As you walk down, he will read the information. When you step onto the floor, I’ll be waiting to escort you. We’ll walk over and pay our compliments to our host and hostess. At this point we will either dance or mingle with the others,” he said. “I’ll write the announcement for you, so you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’m not worried,” Elizabeth insisted, “so let’s address the card and go.” She smiled as he hastily put pen to paper, and then they grabbed their coats to leave.

 

~*~

 

The hum of conversation buzzed throughout the ballroom until Elizabeth Darcy handed her card to the servant. Silence fell over the crowded room, and heads turned as Fitzwilliam Darcy’s wife descended the elegant spiral staircase. Her striking beauty held them spellbound while cameras flashed like twinkling stars as the reporters grabbed the opportunity to capture the moment. Fitzwilliam only smiled as he listened to the quiet murmurings while Elizabeth carefully made her way down the winding stairs. Lady Westcott and Lady Crawford came by to give their approval. There was even an approving comment from the Duke of Westchester, who said Darcy had the prettiest wife at the ball. Another commented that from the foolish grin Darcy wore, marriage must agree with him. Fitzwilliam only chuckled as he shook their hands.

While Fitzwilliam waited for his wife, two men in particular took careful notice. Artimus Dashwood, Fitzwilliam’s first cousin and son of Samantha Darcy Dashwood, stood at the wine table with Stuart Hampton, the twelfth Earl of Westbury—a tall, handsome, fair-haired man who had always disliked the Darcys, especially Fitzwilliam. A long-standing grudge between the two rivals dated back many years and ran very deep.

“Westbury, is that Darcy’s wife?” Dashwood asked with a curious look towards the lady descending the stairs.

“It must be, although she’s not at all what I would have expected him to choose. I’ve never seen a more beautiful creature. Look how she smiles and laughs. Not his type at all. I’ll have to get to know her.”

“You’re not thinking of flirting with my cousin’s wife, are you?” Dashwood glanced at his companion with a raised eyebrow.

“If I can have my way, I will do more than flirt. Just listen to that adorable accent. Why should she waste her charms on Darcy?” A rakish grin spread over his features.

“Westbury, you had better watch yourself. You’ve had too much to drink. Fitzwilliam is not the kind to share his wife with anyone—especially you! I believe he actually loves her,” Dashwood warned as Lord Westbury’s intentions became clear.

“Relax, I just want to have a little fun, and if I embarrass Darcy, so much the better,” he smirked. “When it comes to women, they have always preferred me to him.” Both took a sip of champagne. “You do remember Stella, don’t you?”

“If you want to embarrass him, you’ll have no disagreement with me. In fact, I wish you luck. He’s no favorite of mine—especially after the way he treated my father, but I don’t exactly recall Stella. Who was she?”

“She was his first love.” Westbury grinned. “It was about twelve years ago. They were quite an item at the time, except she secretly preferred me to him. He walked in on us one day, and Stella never forgave me,” he sneered. “She fully expected to marry him, but he never forgave her. She lost him, and I lost her.” Westbury raised his glass to his lips as his eyes followed Elizabeth Darcy.

Dashwood was momentarily taken aback. “So you were shagging his lady, and now you wish to repeat history? Westbury, you are indeed a piece of work.”

A large smile crossed both men’s lips as they watched and listened.

 

~*~

 

Oblivious to the conspiracies around them, Fitzwilliam, after they had paid their respects to Lord and Lady Middleton, escorted his wife to the dance floor for the first dance. He danced next with Amanda, while William led Elizabeth in a waltz. Afterwards, they mingled with the other guests where he introduced his wife proudly. He was amused at how Elizabeth easily discerned who greeted her with sincerity and respect and who relied on false flattery to garner information for gossip. Through it all, she handled everyone with the grace and style he knew she possessed, and she moved with ease amongst his peers as if she had been born one of them.

After a lengthy conversation with Lord Rothwell, William and Fitzwilliam joined the ladies at the refreshment table where they were soon approached by Lord Westbury and Artimus Dashwood. “Fitzwilliam, won’t you introduce us to your lovely wife?” Lord Westbury greeted, smiling at Elizabeth.

Fitzwilliam eyed both gentlemen closely. Of all people, he didn’t want his wife to meet this pair. Weighing the dictums of society against his instinct, he reluctantly relented.

“Yes, of course. Elizabeth, this is Stuart Hampton, the twelfth Earl of Westbury, and my cousin Artimus Dashwood.” With a hand gesture between the two, he continued. “Gentlemen, my wife, Elizabeth Darcy.”

“Mrs. Darcy, it is such a pleasure to meet you. We have heard much of you, and I must say none of it has been exaggerated,” said Lord Westbury.

The gentlemen each bowed and gently kissed Elizabeth’s hand while Fitzwilliam seethed in quiet anger at the audacity of his cousin and Lord Westbury. Both men met the anger in Fitzwilliam’s gaze with a challenge of their own.

Fitzwilliam keenly observed the quick glance Elizabeth shot between the two gentlemen and himself. Realizing she had caught the quiet tension between them, he nodded with a gentle smile.

Her lips curled softly as she responded, “It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Lord Westbury, and you as well, Mr. Dashwood. I’m always glad to meet my husband’s family, and I can see the family resemblance,” she said with a smile. “You’re as handsome as my husband.”

“Darcy, may I have the next dance with your wife?” Westbury asked.

Noticing the way Stuart’s eyes caressed his wife’s body, Darcy replied, “Westbury, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Since this is Elizabeth’s first time out in society, I thought I would keep her with family.”

A wide grin spread across Dashwood’s face. “Well, then, you won’t mind if I dance with her, will you, Darcy?”

“Artimus, I don’t think he has you in mind as family.” William’s eyes flashed in warning.

“Stay out of it, William, unless our cousin cannot speak for himself.”

Rolling his eyes, Fitzwilliam responded, “No, Artimus, I don’t think she’d like to dance with either of you.” The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene, especially with so many cameras about.

“Come now, Darcy, surely your wife would like to dance?”

Feeling the heat in the room becoming uncomfortable, Fitzwilliam was beginning to regret this ball. He was on the verge of telling them both in no uncertain terms that neither of them would be dancing with his wife when he heard Elizabeth speak.

“Lord Westbury, I hate to disappoint you, but I have reserved the night for someone very special—my husband.” She raised an eyebrow, giving a sweet but firm smile.

“I see,” Westbury said. “Darcy always seems to inspire that sentimental devotion in women.” Turning to Fitzwilliam, he aimed a finely honed parting shot. “Have you seen Stella lately? I hear she’s suffered a most unfortunate turn in events since you abandoned her. The little girl is what? Eleven years old now.” He tipped his head towards Elizabeth. “At least you married this one. I bid you and your lovely bride a good evening,” he smirked with biting sarcasm before departing with Artimus, almost bursting with laughter as he tried to contain himself.

Incensed and feeling like a caged animal, Fitzwilliam violently exhaled as he cast a fleeting look between his wife’s shocked expression and William’s clenched fists.

“Fitzwilliam, one of these days we are going to have to settle things with those two.”

“Maybe so, but not here. That would give him the satisfaction he’s looking for.”

“Fitzwilliam, what was that all about, and what did he mean by ‘at least you married this one?’ Am I to presume that you have an eleven year-old daughter?” She studied him intently with questioning eyes.

“No, you are not to assume any such thing. It is a ghost from the past, but you do have a right to an explanation, and I will tell you everything tonight when we’re alone.” He released a tensed breath and smiled. “For the time being, let’s not let those two ruin our evening. I’d love to dance with you. William, would you and Amanda care to join us?”

William answered as he took Amanda’s hand, “I think it’s a good idea.”

Fitzwilliam and William led the ladies in several waltzes before stopping for conversation with numerous lords and Members of Parliament. While speaking with Lord Wellesley, he watched Elizabeth conversing with Lady Crawford and smiled. He was exceedingly proud of his wife. Not only did she have the self-confidence to rise to the challenge of whatever came her way, but she also possessed the keen ability to discern a person’s character. He knew she would understand when he told her about Stella.

 

~*~

 

Shortly after midnight, the ball ended and the Darcys paid their regards to their hosts once more before departing for home. Silence weighed heavily during the short drive to Darcy House. Fitzwilliam’s anger had cooled by now, although it hadn’t completely abated.

By the time they reached their bedchamber, both Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were exhausted. They changed their clothes, attended to the children, and settled down on the bed.

He took a long, steadying breath. “Elizabeth, we need to talk.”

“Yes, we do. Why don’t you begin?”

Raking his fingers through his tousled curls, he briefly closed his eyes. It was so long ago. He shook his head and stated more than asked. “Where do I begin?”

“What about the child, Fitzwilliam. Do you have a child with this woman?” Her eyes widened. “Tell me you didn’t abandon them?”

Pain shot through him as he released a deep moan. “Elizabeth, I’m hurt that you would even think me capable of that, but to answer your question, no, I didn’t. I swear to you that I have no other children besides the ones I share with you.”

“Fitzwilliam, the man I know and love would never do such a thing, but I know nothing of the man you were in your youth. So tell me about Stella. Who is she, and what did she mean to you?”

He momentarily looked to the side. “Elizabeth, I’m the man I’ve always been. I’ve matured, but in essentials, I’ve not changed. My character, my sense of personal honor, of duty and responsibility, are as they’ve always been. The only difference is…I grew up.” He held her gaze. “It began when I was an undergraduate at Oxford. Believe it or not, I was once into the party scene and nearly as bad as David. But what the hell. I was young and impulsive, and once the hormones turn on in a young man, well, I think you have some idea of what it must be like. Men don’t have to have an emotional tie to derive pleasure from the ‘act’. In fact, with most men, even me in the beginning, it’s preferable if we don’t. Less complicated, if you understand what I’m telling you.”

“Like the guys I dated at MIT.”

“Exactly. And when you told me about your experiences, I thought of myself. You would probably have dismissed me if you’d met me when I was twenty because back then sexual attraction was everything to me, and I don’t think I could have settled for a platonic relationship as I was willing to when I met you.”

“I understand.” She nodded.

He breathed deeply and shook his head. “But underneath it all I really wasn’t like that, and after a while, it began to eat away at me. I wanted a steady relationship—one rooted in affection, not lust. That’s when I met her—Stella Fitzgerald.” He hesitated, delving into his memory, remembering the pretty little redhead with the shapely backside. Taking his wife’s hand, he gently brushed her fingers with his. “Stella was somewhat like you. Very pretty with long waist-length thick red hair, vivid green eyes, and a freckled face. She was lively and witty and fun to be with. You know the type,” he softly said, “a bubbly personality that draws you in. So, when I met her through a mutual friend, I was captivated by all of those things. The attraction was immediate and strong on both our parts, but I was too naïve to fully understand what Stella was about or her true motivations. It never occurred to me that she would use me or that a woman would stoop to such measures to obtain what she wanted.” Pausing for a moment, he glanced away and exhaled loudly.

Elizabeth shook her head and motioned for him to continue.

With a nod, he took a deep breath. “Stella and I dated through the latter part of my undergraduate years. Six months after we began the relationship, we moved in together. The first twelve months were great,” he said with a slight smile. “I thought I was in love. We were quite close, and I even considered marrying her. But then we began to quarrel. She wanted to party, and I wanted to study. I needed to do well in my finals as I intended to go on and do a doctor of philosophy, but she had lost all interest in university. Instead, she preferred the nightlife. She wanted to be seen at clubs and private parties where only I could take her because of my connections. To her, it was important to hobnob with celebrities and the nobility. It was then that I knew I’d made a mistake. You see, I’d never taken the trouble to get to know her before hopping into bed. I assumed she’d like the same things as I did since we were both reading Greats.” He laughed ceremoniously. “However, I soon discovered the truth. We had nothing in common beyond the physical attraction, but I was too deeply involved to get out by the time I realized it.”

He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. “Because I had considered marrying her, I had allowed her access to the very generous allowance I received from my father, but even that was not enough when she had to have clothing from the most exclusive shops in London. As you can imagine, it wasn’t long until I found myself overdrawn, with a call in from my father demanding an explanation. That, perhaps, was the most humiliating experience of my life. You can’t imagine how upsetting that was for me, knowing as you do about the friction that existed between my dad and me. And yet, I still hung on because I’m the kind that commits. But whatever love I thought I might have had for her was gone by the last year of our relationship. I didn’t love her, and I knew it.”

“So why didn’t you just break it off?”

“Liz, it’s not that easy. We were living together.”

“Did she love you?”

“Love me?” he smirked. “No, she didn’t love me.”

Elizabeth shook her head and sighed. “Tell me what happened. How did you get out of it, and where does this child come into play?”

He laughed a humorless laugh. “It was by a stroke of luck, or perhaps someone was watching over me. I don’t know.” Darcy took her hand in his and gently brushed his fingers over her wedding band. “I discovered in a most painful way that the entire time we were together, which was a little over two years, she had been sleeping with Lord Westbury, who was attending Oxford at the same time I was. She never loved me. She used me for who I was and what I could give her. I felt like a fool, especially since I had been forewarned.” Fitzwilliam released Elizabeth’s hand and briefly looked away.

“Forewarned?” Elizabeth frowned.

“Yes, forewarned. My cousin, William, who was at Oxford with me at the time, had seen things I didn’t see. He never liked Stella and had warned me that something was going on behind my back. He had followed her and knew she was meeting Westbury, but I refused to believe that anything was happening, until one day, I unexpectedly came home to our flat and found the two of them in bed,” he said with a cynical smile. “You should have seen the smug look of triumph on Westbury’s face when he saw me.

“Anyway, I didn’t see Stella again until three months later when she approached me, claiming to be pregnant and demanding I marry her and provide for my child. At first, I was going to marry her, but after a talk with my father, I kept my reserve and insisted that she prove my paternity. If the child was mine, I told her we would marry, because even back then, I was a man of honor, but I would wait until the child was born and a blood test taken to decide what I would do. As it turned out, the baby, a little girl, wasn’t mine, but my father did pay Stella a handsome sum for her silence, and she left with the child. I never saw her again.”

“Oh, Fitzwilliam, that must have been terrible for you.”

“Terrible? Yes, it was. The entire ordeal, not to mention my father’s many lectures, disillusioned me. I vowed I would never again put myself in a position to be trapped by some woman I didn’t love. I had to be sure it was the real thing. Elizabeth, there’s no way I’d ever let a child of mine suffer. That’s why I was alone until I met you. I haven’t been with that many women.” He paused and softly smiled. “In fact, ours is the only other relationship I’ve ever had—the first since Stella, and I intend for ours to be my last. At twenty-two, my brain could become easily disengaged by a pretty face and a shapely body, but at thirty-two, my reasoning was much more finely tuned to look beyond the pretty face to the heart of a woman. When I met you, your looks drew me to you. I will admit that, but your heart keeps me here. Elizabeth, I don’t have the experience you think I have with—”

Interrupting with a wave of her hand, she said, “You’ve explained enough. The rest is in the past. The things that are important to me are you and our family—right here and right now.”

Releasing a relieved sigh, Fitzwilliam gazed at his wife. “And that’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

“I know,” she said, smiling tenderly.

He reached over and gently brushed her lips with his.

“I caught on right away to what Lord Westbury was doing. My only concern was for the possibility of a child. Had it been yours, then I felt I had a right to know about it.”

“Liz, he’s been my enemy for years. It began at Eton when we were boys, but I won’t go into that now. All I will say is that ever since then, he’s taken every opportunity to goad me and cause me pain. Why do you think he slept with Stella? It was to hurt me. I want you to stay away from him.”

Tilting her head, she frowned. “I have no desire for his company.”

“Good. I’m relieved to hear it.”

He took her hand in his. “Now, whilst we have this opportunity, I need to tell you about my family—all of them. Many of my cousins are not very nice. Dashwood is but one among many.”

They talked for most of the night, in between sessions of caring for their children. He told her about family disagreements and which members were on good terms and which were not. When he was through, he glanced between the clock and his wife, yawning heavily, weariness finally taking its toll. “Now you know everything there is to know. Let’s try and get some rest whilst we can.” He pulled her into an embrace as they lay down, quickly falling asleep.