Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (107 page)

“Susan, dear . . .”

“Not another word from you, sir.”  She whispered.  “I have a wonderful new niece who is teaching me to . . . to speak up and protect my husband.  So . . . you go and see Georgiana and return home as soon as you are satisfied.  Do you hear me?”  She looked up at him and his brow creased to see the determination in her expression. 

“Yes, madam.”  His gaze travelled to Elizabeth.  “What have you done to my wife?”

“I could not say, sir, but I agree with her sentiments exactly.  Now, to make her happy, I suggest that we leave for Pemberley House so that you may return quickly.  I will have him back to you within the hour, Aunt.  That should be time enough to warm the water and unpack his things?”

“Exactly.”  Susan sniffed and let his arm go.  “Now . . . step lively, sir.  And do not keep me waiting.  I have waited long enough for you.” 

“Susan!”  He stared. 

Darcy and Samuel laughed.  “Are you certain you are glad to be home, Father?”  He walked down to the coach that Darcy was lending him for the trip and nodded at Henry as he opened the door.

“I am sorry that there is no room for you in our carriage.”  Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and helped her into the curricle.

“No, we can take ours; it seems that all of mother’s luggage is down.”  Samuel laughed towards Susan.  “I swear, Father, she packed for a Season, not for the three weeks she was to be away.” 

“Only three weeks?”  He looked back to his wife.

“I was on a mission to bring you home with me.”  She said softly.  “I think that it is time for you to live here with me.  We must release the past.”  Squeezing his hand, she let go.  “Now, go on and I will be here waiting for you.” 

Judge Darcy stood still and looked up at the dower house and then to his waiting family before bending down to kiss her softly.  “I will be back very soon, dear Susan.”

“Just do not take so long this time.”  She sniffed and caressing his cheek, she turned quickly and hurried into the house. 

He took a moment to collect himself before moving to the carriage. 
It is not too late . . .  What should I tell her?  What should I tell Fitzwilliam?  I must do something!

“Are you well, sir?”  Darcy spoke quietly and moved to help him when he faltered on the step. 

Judge Darcy turned and spoke earnestly, “Wickham.  Have you seen or heard anything of him?” 

“No.”  Darcy’s brow creased.  “No, I let my men go before we left London.  I did not see the point in continuing the search.  He has eluded us for months, and you have had no luck.  I came to the conclusion that after this he would never dare to darken my door again, and how could we prosecute without exposing all?  Barring Richard coming across him in the seedier side of London, he will never see a prison.  My hope is that we have heard the last of him.  He would certainly never appear in Derbyshire.  I can see him quaking in his boots to breathe the air.  He is a scoundrel, but he is also a coward.  Only a coward preys on women and children.   Besides, Wickham never does anything if it does not benefit himself in some way.  There is certainly nothing for him here.” 

“Yes.”  Judge Darcy paused.  “Just the same, I think that it might be wise to have someone at the gate who would recognize him.  He demanded money from you before; you never know if he might try again, blackmail is always possible.  Do you still have that portrait my brother had made of him?”

Darcy’s face coloured and he looked to see Elizabeth watching the conversation.  “Yes.  I had it removed, but my wife knows of its location.  If you think that it is wise, then of course we can have someone at the gate.  Although that certainly would not stop him.  Pemberley is permeable, it is no fortress.”

“It would make me feel better.”  Judge Darcy nodded and looking back at the house and seeing Susan in the window, breathed a little easier and raised his hand to her.  “All right, now, let us satisfy my curiosity and then I might satisfy my wife.” 

“I think that you had better, Father, or Mother will be down here dragging you inside momentarily.”  Samuel moved away from the entrance and the judge climbed up to join him. 

Darcy closed the door and walked back over to the curricle, climbing in and taking up the reins.  “What happened to him?”

“He appears to be on death’s door.”  Elizabeth looked back towards the coach as they began to move.  “He seemed ill when we left London, but it was nothing to this.  But to hear him speak, he seems . . . well I do not know.  I cannot read him as I do you.”

“I saw emotion in his eyes that moved from pain to relief.  He is struggling with some great weight.  That is apparent.” 

“Yes.”  She nodded.  “I agree.  What could it mean?”

“He was worried over Wickham.”  Darcy noted her brows rising and smiled slightly.  “Yes, it is good that we did not burn the portrait, although there are enough people working on this estate who can spot him with ease.  I cannot fathom him setting foot here.  He did not depart amidst shoes and flowers.”

“I think that Mrs. Reynolds would gladly throw her shoes at him.”

“I think that she might gladly sic the hounds after him.” 

“I wonder if Georgiana has any items of his clothing.”   Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

“Elizabeth!”  He stared.

“To give to the hounds.”  She said with widened eyes.

“Oh.”  Darcy laughed softly as they turned back onto the main drive.  “Now that is a hunt Richard would love to join.” 

“D’YA HEAR THAT?”  Christmas dropped the piece of cheese he was gnawing and ran out of the cabin.  “It’s that same curricle, I’m sure of it!  It’s them.  C’mon, this is our chance!”  Grabbing the rope, he saw Wickham standing like stone.  “Move you bloody bastard!  Or you’ll be wearing my knife in your throat!”  Jumping, Wickham found his feet and ran with him over the light dusting of snow.  “This is the spot?”

“Yes . . . yes, I remember it . . .”   Wickham looked up at the rise; the carriage was nearing but had not yet reached the top.  It sounded different somehow.  The rope end was tossed to him and starting, he saw Christmas’s eyes boring into him.  There was almost a maniacal glint; he could taste his brother’s freedom already.  Wickham took his end and tied it around a tree and Christmas took the rope, leapt down onto the road bed and across to stand ready.  Wickham watched him staring at the top of the hill.  The sound of the horses and the wheels over the gravel was becoming louder.  He could not hear Darcy’s voice this time.  There was no laughter from Elizabeth.  “Oh God.  I am no murderer.”  He closed his eyes and shaking violently, he held onto the knot he had tied, and waited.

SAMUEL WATCHED HIS FATHER staring out of the window.  “It has been a long time since you were home.”  Judge Darcy nodded shortly and continued his vigil.  “Father . . . please tell me what has become of you?  I thought that you had been ill and that is why we were coming to London, but I never could have prepared Mother for this.   What has happened in the space of three weeks?”

“Samuel it is nothing . . .”

“No sir, do not put me off.  I let you do that long enough in Town and seeing you now I deeply regret not standing up to you and staying by your side.”  He raised his chin and stared at his surprised father.  “If you do not wish to tell Mother the truth then . . . that is your business, but I insist that you speak to me.”  His face was flushed from the terrifying effort, but he stayed firm in his resolve. 

“Has Fitzwilliam’s wife been giving you lessons on insolence as well, Samuel?”

“No sir, William has been giving me an excellent example on how to be a man.  And Mother was not insolent; she loves you deeply and has been suffering from missing you and caring for Georgiana.  She is exhausted.  She deserves your respect.”

“Do not tell me about my wife, I know that she has been suffering . . .”  His face was pained and he simply did not have the strength to assume his facade.  “Well, I do not know what to make of this . . .” Judge Darcy’s hand wiped over his face and his shoulders drooped.  “Yes, I do.  It is not a trace of what I deserve to hear.  This nightmare has taken a toll on all of us.  My valet noted my feelings and chose, without my knowledge, to treat me with laudanum for . . . Lord knows how long.”  He spread his hands when Samuel started.  “What you see before you is the result of my withdrawal.”

“Laudanum!”  Samuel stared.  “But . . . surely Carson would know that you do not tolerate it!” 

“He thought that it helped.”  Hanging onto the strap, Judge Darcy saw that they were coming up to the break in the trees where Pemberley house could be seen.  “He was very wrong.”

THE CURRICLE WAS FAR AHEAD of the lumbering coach and it appeared at the top of the rise alone.  “There it is!”  Christmas cried and quickly wrapped his end of the rope around a tree.  Pulling it taut, he tied it off and hid, watching as the curricle cleared the hill and just as Wickham predicted, the two ponies picked up speed, rushing down the slope and straight for the rope set just high enough to trip them and overturn the carriage.  He looked across the road at Wickham and directly into his eyes.

Christmas’s stare was on him, but he was also far away, and Wickham knew the woods well.  His heart pounding he stared at his jailer and then looked to the carriage.  It was Darcy and Elizabeth.  He was speaking to her, looking into her eyes and she was laughing.  Her hand was on his jaw, nudging his face to look forward and pay attention to the road.  He saw Darcy break into a smile, his head starting to turn . . . and with a sharp pull Wickham released the knot, letting the rope fall harmlessly to the ground.  He met Christmas’s eyes for a second, and turning tail, ran as fast as he could.  The carriage passed unscathed over the rope. 

“BASTARD!”  Christmas shouted furiously.

“What was that?”  Darcy jumped at the man’s curse, and then immediately reacted when the horses started.  They reared back and the carriage was swung violently side to side as the panicked animals tripped over each other. 

“Will!”  Elizabeth screamed. 

“Jump, Lizzy!  I do not think I can control them for long.”  Darcy struggled mightily with the reins, trying to calm the horses enough for her to get off.  “Jump!”

“I cannot leave you!” 

“
JUMP
!”  Lifting his boot, he shoved her hard.  Elizabeth gasped and seeing the protective demand in his eyes moved to the end of the seat, chose her moment, and jumped off, rolling over the gravel and into a ditch on the side of the drive. 

At the top of the slope, the coach appeared and the horses, attuned to the panic of their brethren, took off in a blind run, straight towards the curricle.  Desperately the coachman tried to pull the brake and stop the team, but it was too much and with a crack, the coach overturned and slid on its side, straight for the tree where Christmas stood frozen in place.  He put his hands to his face and screamed. 

“
WILL
!”  Elizabeth shrieked.   With great effort Darcy fought to regain control until he heard the yoke crack and then let go of the reins.  The leather flew from his hands and whipped his face as the horses; finally free from their burden, flew madly down the drive.  As fast as they ran, the curricle spun, and in a moment that would forever be imprinted in Elizabeth’s memory, it hung on the edge of the cliff, rocking precariously.  Darcy’s head turned and he spotted Elizabeth before he and the carriage disappeared over the side.  The terrifying sound of it falling and crashing against the rocks and trees followed.  She ran to the edge and stood sobbing and hugging herself.  “WILL!”  All she could see was a single spinning wheel on the broken carriage.  “WILL!!”  She screamed again and again, her voice echoing over the valley.  Her eyes blinded with tears she desperately searched for a way down.  “WILL!”  Collapsing onto her knees, she held her face in her hands as her body shook with all-consuming grief.

“Elizabeth . . .” 

Elizabeth’s head lifted and hope suffused her face as she looked over the rim.  “Will?” 

“Elizabeth . . .”  The voice came from behind her and slowly, she turned her head and at last saw the overturned coach. 

“Samuel?”  She jumped to her feet, wincing with pain but still running to the coach.  Climbing up on a wheel, she opened the door and saw Samuel cradling his father.  “Oh, no!”  She cried.  “Is he dead?

“No, no he is unconscious.  Are you well?”

“No . . .” Gasping, the tears came again.  Samuel carefully laid his father as comfortably as he could against the side of the seat and gingerly stood.  He held onto the open door frame and climbing, managed to pull himself up and out to sit beside Elizabeth on the side of the carriage.  He looked around him, spotting the coachman lying face down in the gravel.  The horses had broken free but were stopped and standing placidly at the side of the road.  He scanned the area and at last turned to Elizabeth. 

“Elizabeth, where is the curricle?”  She took a breath and looked at the cliff and back to him before falling back into her anguished sobs.  “Oh Lord!”   Scrambling to his feet, he lowered himself down to the ground and holding out his arms, helped her to slide down to him.  Samuel held her close.   “William is down there?” 

“Yes.  He . . . he forced me out just . . . just before it fell.  He saved my life.”  She looked up to him.  “Please . . . he cannot be gone.  Please help him!”  She clutched his coat.  “Please . . .” 

In his heart, Samuel held no hope for his cousin’s life, but faced with Elizabeth’s desperation, he nodded.  “Of course I will.”  Limping, he walked to the edge and looked over. 
Oh, no.  William.
  Elizabeth had come with him and they stood together with their hands tightly clasped.  Samuel bit his lip.  “Did the horses break free?” 

“Yes.”  She nodded numbly. 

“They probably headed straight for the stables, that will certainly alert the men there and they will . . . come looking.”  He looked to the carriage horses.  “Can you ride, Elizabeth?”

“I told Will I could, a thousand years ago.”  She whispered.

“Elizabeth . . .” Taking her over to the horses, he unhooked them from the remainder of the carriage and looked her in the eye.  “I want you to ride to the house.  Tell them where we are and to bring a wagon to carry the wounded.  And then I want you to stay there and wait.”