Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (115 page)

“Maybe he’ll order it from you.” 

“Wouldn’t that be something?”  Macalister said softly.  “That would be something, what an honour that would be . . .”

“Look, see the scraping on the side!”  One young boy whispered, “That must be where it slid.”

“I wonder what part crushed the man?  Stranger on Pemberley, he got what he deserved, I reckon, there to cut up Mr. Darcy’s peace!”

“He cut it up all right, he nearly sent him to eternal peace.” 

“I heard he was swearing up a blue cloud and waving his arms at them!”  A young dandy said eagerly.  “Well he’s in with the poor at potter’s field now.”

“What could Mr. Darcy ever have done to upset him?” 

“He’s a good man, he is.”  The inn’s owner took a puff on his pipe and gestured to the church.  “Didja hear about him and his wife, showing concern for that abandoned waif?”

“Aye, a good man, that.”

“He didn’t take the babe in.” 

“And why would he be doin’ that?  And then have every foolish lass who got herself caught between the sheets showing up at Pemberley with her mistake?” 

“Isn’t that why you got married, Frankie?”  One man guffawed.  “Your wife was quite ripe when you took your vows!”

“Yours was hardly as pure as the driven snow!”  He retorted as the laughing crowd broke up and the men started to drift away.  Leaning on the doorway Wickham remained and stared at the curricle, reliving the sound of Elizabeth’s anguish as it disappeared over the edge.  He jumped when a woman’s voice caught his ear.  He recognized her from the inn.  

She smiled at him invitingly.  “Now sir, you have been here for nearly a week, and you hardly say a word.  Will you be staying long?”

“I do not know.”  He considered her.  “That carriage, that Mr. Darcy, is it true what I have heard?  That he flew over a cliff in that curricle?”

“Yes!”  Her eyes were wide.  “And he lived!  All the talk I have heard had him dead and gone, but his wife insisted that they keep searching for him and she made those fool men find him!”  She lifted her chin.  “A woman’s love saved a good man.”

“The Darcys both survived.”  Wickham’s eyes closed. 

“All of them did; the judge and his son, included!”

“The judge?”  Wickham’s eyes flew open.  “Judge Darcy is here?”

“So I heard.  They were in that carriage there.”  She gestured at the coach and noticed he had turned white.  “Are you well, sir?  You look like you might be sick.”

“Yes . . . yes.”  He swallowed and shook his head.  “I . . .”

“I think I’ll leave you be, sir.”  Frowning, she walked away towards the inn and left him alone. 

Wickham did not notice she was gone; instead he stared at the coach.  “Why was the judge here that day?  He had rushed to Pemberley . . . Oh . . .”  Realization came to him.  “He said to wait until Twelfth Night to go, we left early and he found us gone!  He was trying to stop us!”  Wickham felt bile rising in his throat and placed his hand over his stomach.  “There is no possibility of him wanting to be present, no, no, he wanted to stop it!”

“Oh, I wish I was still at Pemberley!  I am missing so much!”  A girl’s voice complained as she and her companions walked past and peeked into the cartwright’s shop.  “It was so exciting there when the Darcys came home from their honeymoon.  So much was happening!  The earl and his wife were very difficult and that Lady Cathy with her nose in the air!”

“It is too bad that you lost your position then.  You should know better, talking about your family . . . you are doing it now!”

“They aren’t my family anymore, are they?”  Betsy sniffed.

“But will you talk about the Monroes like that?  You’ve only been there a few days, you had better be careful of Mrs. Monroe hearing you.”

“Who’s to tell her?”

“I will.”

“Well . . . Miss Monroe isn’t getting fat like Miss Darcy is.  That’s what Mrs. Reynolds said when I was told I was being dismissed, that I didn’t keep confidences, but I think that it was that Judy who was behind it.  She just wanted her sister in there so she went telling tales about me!  But Miss Darcy
was
getting a belly on her!  I just wanted to do something about it before it got worse.”

An older woman sniffed.  “She is fifteen and lives in the richest house for fifty miles.  If she does not take exercise, then she will get fat.  All of these rich women do nothing but sit.”

“Well
she
sure didn’t exercise.  Only her fingers.”  Betsy wiggled her fingers like she was playing a pianoforte and laughed.  “Now Mrs. Darcy,
she
was one for exercising, and I don’t just mean walking!”

“That is quite enough, Betsy.  If I ever hear you speak of the Monroes that way I will have you out of our house so fast your head will spin!”

“What do I care?  I have plenty left from when the Darcys paid me off!  I will just wait for the hiring fair in spring and find myself a new place!”

“Without a reference!”

“I still have the one from Mrs. Darcy.”  She stuck her tongue out at her and smiled.  “I will be just fine.”

Wickham listened closely to the three maids and as the conversation turned to their own household, he digested the news of Georgiana.  “She is gaining weight?”  He could not imagine her in any other condition but that of the nubile young woman he had introduced to the pleasures of the marriage bed.  “Pleasures.”  He thought of the ignorant girl.  “Well, I did my best.”  A long ago conversation around a card table came to mind. 

“Been north for a bit, I found a lady friend to keep me company.”  The men around the table laughed. 

“Young?  You like them young.”

“Fifteen.”  Wickham’s brows rose and he flashed his teeth with their cheers.  “Excellent, though . . .”  He looked around the room at the prostitutes hanging around the men.  “It will be good to be with a woman who knows her business.  Innocent and shy can only hold your attention so long, she never did like it, or learn to do more than close her eyes and lay still like a board.”

“Ah, no joy in that.”  One spat and got up to fill the chamber pot.  “I can see you moving on.”
 

“I was full of bravado, wasn’t I?”  He thought of how unprepared she was.  “I wonder what she was thinking that first time.  I did try to be gentle.”  Wickham rubbed his chin.  “And now she is gaining weight?”  His brow furrowed and he thought of the men speaking as they examined the carriage.

“Isn’t that why you got married, Frankie?”  One man guffawed.  “Your wife was quite ripe when you took your vows!”

“She
is
pregnant!”  Wickham cried and quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard.  “Georgiana is pregnant with my child!”  He whispered, her behaviour had nagged at him those last days together, and it seemed that his thoughts had come true.  “How far along is she?  They will want to protect her . . . of course, that is why the blabbing maid was sacked, they needed someone trustworthy in her place!”  He went through the possibilities as a world of opportunity opened up to him.  “I can still marry her . . .”  Shaking his head, he knew that was impossible.  Darcy would never allow it, neither would the judge, and the colonel was certainly nearby . . .  His hand drifted into his pocket and he pulled out the small sack of coins that he managed to snatch from the table just before he and Christmas ran out to try and kill the Darcys.  There was still quite a lot left from Judge Darcy’s payment, but not enough to live on for too much longer.  “Not thirty thousand pounds.”  Wickham bit his lip.  “What should I do?”

“All right then, if you had thought up going to Ramsgate on your own, would you have married her?  For the money?”

“She was so willing . . .” He looked back at Christmas.  “I was going to be at Ramsgate last summer anyway.  I bet I would have found her on my own.  It isn’t that big.  And I’m sure that I would have wanted to take advantage.  Darcy had just refused to give me more money and I was furious.”

“I
was
furious.”  He said to himself.  “And Judge Darcy knew it.  He knew that Darcy had refused me and he took advantage.  He just didn’t realize that I didn’t need his help to do it.  I would have done it on my own.  But that was before . . . before I knew her.”  He stared back out at the street, two more men stopped to look at the carriages. 

“I hear Mr. Darcy is up and about.  Mr. Barnes met with him this morning.”

“Did you get a look at that portrait he was passing around?  Who is this Wickham?”

“He was the son of the old steward . . .” 

“Do they think he had something to do with it?  I thought that man Christmas was the one?  And he’s dead as a doornail.” 

The men moved on and Wickham was left staring after them.  A carriage rolled past and stopped across from the inn.  The door opened and he saw a familiar tall figure step down and walk into Mayfield’s office.  “Judge Darcy.”  His heart started to pound.  Hearing the horn of the mail-coach in the distance, he sprinted to the inn and up to his room, and gathered up his meagre belongings.  Within a quarter hour he was seated inside of the coach.  He saw another familiar tall figure approaching and entering the inn.  “Darcy?”  He ducked his head.  “No . . . no it could not be . . . the cousin.”  Samuel was accompanied by the man Wickham recognized as Pemberley’s steward.  The horn sounded and with a lurch the mail-coach was off.  At last Wickham breathed a sigh of relief.  “Not a moment too soon.”  As the coach travelled down the road to the next post stop, he kept his eyes on the stone pillars marking the edge of Pemberley.  “What should I do now?”

Chapter 35

D
arcy stood at the bottom of the well-worn steps and gritted his teeth. 
You can do this.
  Up he climbed.  He kept his eyes fixed on the bald spot rising from Parker’s greying hair and felt Elizabeth’s supporting hand on the small of his back, and blessed her for it.  One foot in front of the other, they climbed the narrow stairs.  At last they arrived at the top and single-file; they followed the maid to their chamber door.  Darcy ducked his head, grimacing with the ache in his chest, and straightened to find himself within the best chambers the inn had to offer.  “Lord, help me.”  He whispered as the door shut behind him and at last he dropped the stoic expression he had pasted on his face for most of the trip.

“Will?  Please tell me how you feel.”  Elizabeth said softly and gently wrapped her arms around him. 

“I am well, dearest.”  He breathed haltingly and leaned heavily into her.  “I wonder if riding horseback would have been more comfortable.”  They remained embraced as Parker and Judy worked unpacking their things for the night.

“Sir?”  Parker said from behind his shoulder.  “Your wine.”  Darcy took the glass and stared into the innocent-looking liquid.  As the hours of jarring travel continued, his pain had increased steadily to the point of being nearly debilitating.  While at home the constant ache had become bearable without medication, eight hours in the carriage had made it clear that his pain must be managed if he was to continue on.  With one gulp, he swallowed it down. 

“How can anyone desire that taste?”  He made a face. 

“I suppose that if you drink it often enough you do not notice.”  Elizabeth looked into the empty glass and wordlessly, Parker took it away.  Immediately they returned to their embrace. 

 “Am I too heavy for you?” 

“Not at all.  I know that you need to stand.”  Elizabeth closed her eyes and began to hum.  Darcy smiled as his tension eased and she gladly felt his soft laugh. “Do you remember that song?”

“I want to dance with you so much.  I want to dance like this.” 

“Do you realize that in all of the time we were at Pemberley, we never danced in the ballroom?”

“We did so few of the things that I wanted to.”

“I know.  I feel the same way.”  Feeling his lips on her forehead, she nestled back into him, humming another tune and swaying gently.   “Shall we dance at Netherfield?” 

“Anywhere, anytime.” 

“I will hold you to that, Mr. Darcy.”  She smiled when his embrace increased. 

Gradually the medication did its work and the pain of the past day was relieved.  Darcy drew his first full breath since they had left that morning and finally stood upright.  “Ohhhhh, that is better.”  He smiled down at her.  “Thank you.” 

“Tomorrow, you will take wine with breakfast and we will carry the bottle inside of the carriage.  I cannot bear to see you suffering through another day unnecessarily.  If you sleep the day away, then so be it.  I will sleep alongside you and we can spend the night talking and . . . commenting on the sounds of the other guests.  Agreed?”

His lips lifted and he touched the curls framing her face, “I have no strength to fight you.” 

“Good.  I will use that to my advantage.”  She patted his bottom.  “Go and take care of your needs, dear.  I will ask for dinner to be brought up here.”

“Oh no, I . . . I think that I can manage the tavern, now that I am feeling human again.”  He smiled as her lips pursed.  “I know how you enjoy watching the people, and we have not really had the opportunity to indulge your pastime of late.” 

“Will, truly, your well-being is more important than my amusement.”

“I disagree.  We need a night of . . . wilful indulgence.”  He waved his hand towards the washroom.  “Ladies first.” 

Elizabeth cast a backwards look at him and disappeared.  Parker was immediately at his side.  “I will help you down the stairs, sir.”

“No, I feel better.”  He smiled at his man’s doubtful expression.  “I do.  This travel is more hellish than I expected, but I need to see Mrs. Darcy relax, she is wound up tighter than a drum worrying over me and returning home; and I know that seeing her in that tavern will do me a world of good as well.”  He drew another long breath and glanced in a small mirror.  “What I would give to just have nothing but pleasing her as my sole occupation.” 

“Mrs. Darcy feels the same about you, sir.”  Judy said in passing.