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Today’s post is sort of a copy-cat post. I’m borrowing the idea of my good friend Leenie Brown and posting some writing on my blog. I will post at least 300 words every Thursday. This is my attempt to keep my writing muscles flexed, even when I, for whatever reason, am not writing a book. I can’t promise that I will be writing one long story like Leenie does. Sometimes they might be silly things and sometimes they might be nonfiction. As Leenie said….they will be done in Zoe style. 😉 Here is my first attempt.

 

It was a cold and rainy night, and the old house creaked around her. Lizzy huddled under a blanket near the fire, wondering when her husband would return. He had left that morning with his steward to ride over the home farm, and to address some tenant concerns. Lizzy had thought he would be home by now, and was growing more concerned with each passing hour. She arose from her chair, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, and wandered over to the window.

“Fitzwilliam, where are you?” Her soft voice whispered against the cold glass. Her breath steamed the window, and she used the corner of the blanket to wipe it off again. It was too dark to see, of course, and the glow of the fire and the candelabra reflected off the glass contributed to the impossibility of sight. Lizzy sighed, trying not to worry. He will be home soon. He is well. He must be well!

Seating herself on the cushioned window seat, she settled in to wait. Without realizing it, exhaustion crept up on her, and Lizzy soon fell asleep, not to awaken until sudden loud voices erupted in the hallway. She shot up from her seat, shaking the remnants of sleep out of her mind, when the door opened and her deepest wish was granted.

“Fitzwilliam!” she cried, flinging herself across the room and into his arms. “I was so worried about you! What happened? Where have you been? Oh! You are wet! You need to go upstairs; I will call for a bath for you and some dry clothing…”

Darcy chuckled. When his Lizzy was distressed, her behavior often imitated that of her mother. He simply held her tighter, waiting for her to wind down. When she tried to pull away, he stopped her.

“All is well, my love. Mrs. Reynolds has already ordered water to be heated and carried up to my dressing room, and I requested a tray. I asked for enough for the both of us to be sent.” Darcy searched her eyes. “I am informed that you did not eat while I was out.”

“I could not eat, not knowing where you were or what your condition was.”

“Lizzy…”

“Oh, hush. You would have done the same and you know you would have.”

Darcy smiled and hugged her once more. Letting go, he extended his arm to her. “Shall we retire to our rooms, then, Mrs. Darcy?”

Lizzy smiled back. ”Yes, we shall.”

The couple walked into the corridor and toward the stairs. At the bottom, before they could begin to ascend, Lizzy stopped them. “I am so happy you are home, my love.”

Darcy leaned down toward his beloved wife, stopping just before his lips grazed hers. “I am, as well,” he replied, before capturing her mouth in an ardent kiss.

Text copyright 2016 by the author.

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