They ascended the stairs together and entered the drawing room, which was reserved for family gatherings. Darcy murmured, “I had hoped to lead you to the mistress’s chambers and finish what we began in the carriage, but instead we are obliged to wait upon my irreverent cousin.
Elizabeth giggled. “Is this Cousin Richard’s brother?”
Darcy smiled dryly. “Yes. Phillip, Viscount Stafford, is heir to the earldom, though one would hardly suppose it, given what a rattlepate he is.”
Phillip entered the drawing room with a bow that managed to appear both elegant and rakish. “Darcy, I heard that. You wound me, sir, straight through the heart.” Turning then to Elizabeth, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “Never tell me, Cousin, that you disapprove of a charming prattle? Surely you see me as one of life’s finer diversions?”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Phillip, allow me to introduce you properly to my wife.”
Phillip stepped into the small drawing room and grinned at his two cousins. Still frowning, Darcy made the introductions, then said, “I need a drink. Phillip, shall I serve you a brandy?”
Phillip chuckled. “So I have driven you to drink, have I, Darcy? Someday I shall drive you to laughter as well, but I won’t hold my breath.”
Darcy rang for tea and then poured two glasses of brandy. He studied his cousin. “I do not understand. What brought you home after only four months abroad?”
Phillip grimaced. “Mother has forced me to return. She insists that I marry. I cannot see the urgency. Richard will be married soon and, God willing, children will follow. Why then must I shackle myself so early in life?”
Darcy’s brows rose. “Are you not two and thirty, Phillip?”
Phillip frowned. “Two and thirty is young, Darcy. It is too young to be fettered for life to a harridan. The type of women my mother throws at me are vipers. Mother does not have good taste when it comes to selecting a wife. She sees only titles, wealth, and position, but has no eye for character.”
Darcy regarded his cousin. “You have never held such an opinion before. What has soured you?”
Phillip’s eyes narrowed. “Do you remember James Butler? He was compelled to marry Lady Cecilia Ramsbury, and the woman is driving the entire family mad with her hysterics. Even his mother, who is the nearest to a saint I shall ever know, has fled to the dower house.”
Darcy looked astonished. “To the dower house? But Lord Ramsbury is still alive.”
“Just so, Cousin. My best friend’s life lies in ruins, and my mother wishes me to step into the same abyss.” Phillip stood and poured himself another drink and drank it down in one swallow.
Elizabeth felt compassion for the viscount.
Darcy was also moved. “I am sorry to hear it, Phillip. I have always had a high regard for Butler. He is a good man. But marriage need not be a misery. Look at me and my wife. Elizabeth is everything amiable and good. There are other women like her. You only need to find her.”
Phillip turned to Elizabeth. “Is that true, Mrs. Darcy? Are you truly amiable and good? If so, do you have an unmarried sister you might spare for me?”
Elizabeth saw the young man’s panic and the sadness he felt for his friend. She regarded him with quiet sympathy and vowed silently to help him in any way that she could.
Chapter 59: The Morning After
The morning after their wedding night dawned gray and wet. A thin ribbon of light shone through a gap in the drapes. Elizabeth was the first to awaken. She felt Fitzwilliam’s warmth radiating from his body as he lay against her back, fast asleep. His warm, even breath tickled her neck, his arm lay across her waist, and his leg was tucked in between hers. She was careful not to stir. She felt a tremor of wonder at the strangeness and the sweetness of waking next to the man she loved.
She lay still while she considered what she ought to do. Elizabeth needed to use the commode. The absurdity of her situation provoked a laugh, but she stifled the impulse. With resolute forbearance, she decided to wait as long as possible, and perhaps he would wake up soon. He shifted and his arm tightened around her belly. She heard a murmur, and then he bent his head so that his lips were near her ear.
“Good morning, Mrs. Darcy.”
Her heart throbbed. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy.”
“You are more beautiful than I had ever imagined,” he whispered, the words were a caress.
She felt his hand trace an idle path along her leg, and with it came a thrill of pleasure that provoked a little groan. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are very complimentary to a woman who cannot even locate her night gown.”
He laughed under his breath. “It is for that very reason that your beauty is so apparent to me this morning, my darling girl. I admit mine is also missing. Last night’s enthusiasmhad everything to do with this morning’s vision of unalloyed loveliness.” He murmured. “And you are all mine.”
Color rose in her cheeks. “Sir, you led me astray with your manifold charms.”
“Had I known what happiness you would bring me, madam, I would have married you in April, when we first met at Ramsgate,” he said softly. “I remember you at the pianoforte, singing those haunting ballads. You were a siren from the Greek tales, and I the most helpless of sailors, bewitched by your voice and your irresistible melodies.”
She turned to face him, her eyes alive with mischief. “You showed uncommon prudence for so helpless a sailor. You waited months before you surrendered.”
