The wench sidled up to Darcy, running her hand along the broad expanse of his shoulders as she set down the mug of ale. He grabbed her wrist roughly and wrenched her down to level his gaze at her.
“I am a married man, barmaid, so you will get no extra coins for your attentions. Leave me be.”
“My regards to the missus, sir. Had she been a smart girl she would have kept ya at home.”
“Speak no ill against my wife. Bring me another ale then be gone.” He grumbled and stared into the fire just a few feet from the soles of his boots. He could not feel the heat any more than the touch of the maid’s hand. Before Elizabeth, he had been numb to so many wonderful, enchanting emotions that he could scarcely believe he had lived without them. Now he was forced to switch each feeling off manually and work through the regret right after each hurdle. He could not go back and expect her to stay with him.
Not after what he had done.
His hands were spotless, but they still had the sensation of being wet with blood. Never before had taking a life bothered him so. Never before had he had a need for atonement. He was a damned man, relegated from the light of his Elizabeth's presence because he had killed the one man she loved. He could not take that pain to her.
Bitter bile rose in the back of his throat as he ran his resolution through his mind once again. How could he live and never see his wife again? The decree he had set for himself seemed so impossible.
The door of the tavern opened, and light flooded his table. He had not thought he was at the proper angle or that it was so bright outside. He was right, of course, but the Fates always liked to make an entrance.
“You do not need another ale, son.” The voice was raspy, like broom corns over a rough hardwood floor.
Darcy turned to his right, and an old woman sat in the other chair in front of the fireplace. He gazed around again. Moments ago, this gathering house had been empty. Yes, he was certain it had been. He had paid several gold pieces so he might drink alone.
“What the hell?” Darcy asked, leaning forward.
“I am afraid I have nothing to do with that place, dear,” she said, sniffing in distaste. “Dreadful realm.”
He was more than confused.
“My name is Gloriana, your highness. I have come to tell you to go back home.”
“What do you know of the situation?” Darcy eyed the old lady with suspicion.
She sighed and pressed her lips into a thin line while she gave him a steady gaze. “An old woman appears next to you out of nowhere and you think she does so without a motive? Child, you are smarter than that.”
Magic. This was magic.
“You,” Gloriana began, “must understand that my sisters and I have worked so hard to bring you and Elizabeth together in this lifetime. We grew impatient while you were young. And when she hated you, we knew we had to play dirty to bring you together.”
Gloriana smiled as his awareness came into clarity. The old lady then leaned towards him. “Now quit feeling sorry for yourself and listen to your friend when he arrives.”
* * *
Finn slipped in, guided by the light. Darcy sat alone in the dank, putrid barroom and Finn shook his head. The prince had not shaved in days and, once Finn was closer, he could tell Darcy had neglected to bathe as well.
“My lord! At last, I have found you!”
“I order you to leave me be. Return to Pemberley and care for my wife in my stead. I shall not be going home.”
“She awaits your arrival, sir.”
“I cannot face her knowing what I have done.”
Finn grabbed the other chair roughly and, knocking Darcy’s feet aside, planted himself squarely in front of his lord and master between him and the fire. He stared Darcy in the eye, unintimidated by his commander, his friend.
“I shall not go back home to our women, your wife and mine, women who love you and need you, and tell them you are not returning because you are wallowing in pity.”
“Then tell them I died.”
“I shall do nothing of the sort! I refuse to break their hearts in such a way. If you force me to return without you, I shall return home and tell them you are hiding.”
“Finn, I am warning you. Defy me, and wewillcross blades.”