Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (134 page)

“A village.”  Darcy’s lips twitched and the lawyer waved his hand dismissively.  “It was his dream, sir.”

“I know, he wrote me a long letter.”  He shrugged.  “His father had his hopes dashed and it seems that I am to have mine ruined as well.  I hope that he is happy.”

“I hope that you are sincere.   I imagine that he will be returning in about a month to clear up his things, unless you would like me to remove them now?”  He spoke in a very serious tone but his eyes gave away his continuing amusement.

“He is hardly banned from the building; in fact he has an open invitation to return at any time.”  Sighing, Easterly at last studied his client closely.  “So what Mr. Bingley tells me is true, you were horrifically injured.”

“Is it so bad?”  Darcy touched his face self-consciously.

“I can see where it was once far worse.  No, it is not so terrible now, but do not be surprised at the stares you will surely receive.”  He smiled and Darcy nodded.  “Your father would have been beside himself.”

Darcy looked away and cleared his throat.  “I am grateful for the way my estate would have been handled because of him.” 

“It would not have been handled that way had he lived to sign the entailment.  It is
your
will at work now.   If you were following your father’s wishes, I do not know that you would have been married to this particular Mrs. Darcy.”  He raised his brows.

“No.”  Darcy’s fingers went to turn his ring.  “I am glad that you mention that, sir.  I have spoken to Lord Matlock about this and he was unable to answer my questions satisfactorily.  As you were intimately involved, may I ask you about the entailment that was not enacted?”

“Certainly.”  Interested, he leaned forward in his chair.  “Ask away!”

“Was I truly meant to marry my cousin Anne?”

Easterly paused and spoke thoughtfully.  “Yes and no.”  Darcy sighed and the frustration was evident.  “It would have been brilliant and had your mother lived . . . well, who knows?  She had a way of getting what she wanted.”  Seeing Darcy’s confusion, he smiled.  “She wanted the union, your father had decided to present the good and bad that such a match would bring and ultimately would have left it to you.  Not having regrets for passing on Miss de Bourgh, are you?”

“No!”  Darcy started.  “But I have to say that I am increasingly unhappy with my mother.”

“
Those
are the words of a happily married man considering the life he might have had.”  Mr. Easterly added gently.  “Do not think too poorly of her for wanting what any other parent of your circle would gladly take.  Remember, Mr. Darcy, the fashion of marrying for love is quite the novelty that you young men are exploring nowadays.”  He smiled as Darcy’s colour rose and he nodded.  “Anything else?”  His smile turned into a frown when he heard the next question.

“Was the broken entailment, the plan to make sure the estate could go to a daughter . . . truly done because my father was forward thinking or was it done to . . . keep my uncle out of the line for inheriting?”  Darcy kept his eyes fixed on the elderly man.  A myriad of thoughts were evident in his expression, but Darcy easily discarded most of them.  “I read disbelief in your face, sir, and it is not with surprise that I thought of such a thing, but because I guessed correctly.  What can you tell me?”

“Not nearly as much as you would hope, I am afraid.  Your father spoke very little of his reasoning.”

“You cannot leave it at that, sir.  Clearly you know more than you are saying.  Father is dead, and I need to understand.” 

He nodded and closed his eyes.  “I was a young man, working for
my
father here in this office when your grandfather used to visit.  My father spoke to me of him . . .” Mr. Easterly opened his eyes to Darcy’s intense gaze.  “Your grandfather was not born the heir and as a consequence was not raised to be master of Pemberley.  He struggled with the responsibility, and if it was not for a very adept steward and the entailment, who knows what might have become of it?  But instead, it grew and prospered, and he learned well.  Your grandfather, I understand, knew that he was well over his head when he began and he despised his weakness, and loathed any sign of it in his two surviving children.”  Mr. Easterly watched Darcy and spoke delicately, “He intended to teach both of his sons everything that he could to prepare them for taking on the estate, just in case . . . however your uncle sometimes appeared to be weak and I am afraid that your grandfather largely rejected him as a result.  Undoubtedly your father noticed and it coloured his opinion.”

“My uncle becoming a respected jurist did nothing to dispel that?”  Darcy said incredulously.

“Your father spoke of the judge’s despair over losing his children . . .”

“Yes!  Of course he felt despair!  What feeling man would not?  I listened to Father grieve for my mother, does that make
him
weak?  Would my utter devastation over losing my wife make me less of a man and any less capable of discharging my duties?”

“I cannot explain your father’s beliefs, Mr. Darcy.  All I can say is that your father felt that should you, his heir, fall, that he would rather have Pemberley looked after by an exceptional steward and given over to your sister’s son than to have your uncle take it over.  I am sorry.  It was not my place to question him.  I remember him struggling with the decision, but he never confided in me.  This proposal to recognize the daughters as viable heirs in the event of no sons seemed to me to bring your father some relief.”

Darcy absorbed the information and decided that mentioning his father’s seeming suspicions of madness would be wrong.  “May I ask, did Father have such little faith in Samuel to succeed his father?”

“Samuel was a boy of sixteen when this entailment was being prepared.”  Mr. Easterly smiled.  “No doubt he was an excellent boy, but . . . I attended Eton as well.  I remember what I was that last year and the wide-eyed terror I was to experience my first year at Cambridge.” 

“Of course.  We are all very impressionable at that age.”  Darcy said softly and thought of Georgiana.  “We can be swayed so easily.”

“I hope that I have helped in some way?”

Darcy stood and the lawyer did as well.  “I fear that my questions will never be answered, but as my dear wife is very fond of reminding me, the past cannot be changed, I must look forward.  I think that I simply needed to eliminate all sources of information before I could do that.”  He smiled and bowed his head.  “Thank you for your assistance, sir.” 

“As negligible as it was . . .” He laughed and ushered Darcy to the door.  “Now if you could help me with your cousin?” 

“NO, NO . . .” Darcy wandered around the jeweller’s shop, inspecting the cases and rejecting everything. 

“If you could give me some direction, sir?”  The jeweller offered as he saw his potential sale disappearing.  “Is this an occasion?  A birthday?  An apology, perhaps?”  Darcy turned and glared. “You look as if you had been in a fight . . .” The stare burned into him.   “My mistake, sir.  Anniversary?”

“No.”

He sighed and noticed Bingley’s shoulders shaking as he held back his laughter.  Apparently his friend’s behaviour was quite normal.  “A necklace is always appreciated . . .”

“Necklaces are ordinary.”  Darcy muttered and noticing Bingley’s frown at the piece he held in his hands he added, “She has inherited the Darcy jewels, she has many necklaces.  You are starting your collection.”

“Of course.”  He smiled again and nodded to the jeweller.  “I think that this one is very nice.”

“Buy the earrings and matching bracelet.”  Darcy murmured as he prowled the room again.  Bingley and the jeweller both looked at his turned back and chuckling, Bingley waved his hand to proceed.  The jeweller smiled and went to work putting the set into a velvet box.  At last Darcy stopped and fixed his attention into a case.  “What is this here?” 

Immediately an underling took over Bingley as the jeweller hustled over to Darcy.  “Those are ladies’ watches, sir.”  He reached inside and removed the display.  “You see, they are meant to be worn pinned to the gown, like so?”  He demonstrated and set one into Darcy’s hand. 

He inspected it carefully.  “Have you one with a chronograph?” 

“For a lady, sir?”  He asked, wondering why a woman would need to time anything.

“Yes.”  He set the watch into the man’s palm.  “I want one with a chronograph, and I want the watch suspended from a bouquet of roses fashioned from rubies.” 

The man’s eyes widened, “That would take some time to make, sir . . .”

“I want it today.”

“Darcy!  Is your wife so desperate to know the time?”  Bingley laughed. 

“This is private, Bingley.  When you are married, you will understand.”  He turned back to the jeweller who was rubbing his chin.  “Sir?”

“Well . . .” He looked at the watch in his hand and signalled his assistant.  “Fetch that blue box by my worktable.”  He nodded at Darcy and setting the watch down, disconnected the fanciful ribbon made of gold from the chain and then opened the box that his assistant delivered.  Inside was a brooch made of flawless diamonds in the shape of a bouquet of flowers.  Setting it above the watch, he stepped back.  The four men gathered around and tilted their heads.  “I could put on a hook right now sir, to attach the chain?  It’s not rubies, and not a chronograph, but you could have it today, in ten minutes if you are willing to wait?”

Darcy’s lips lifted in a small smile.  “I accept your terms; however, I still want my roses and chronograph to be made.”

“Anything you say, sir!”  Quickly, the man was off to work.     

Bingley laughed and slapped his friend’s shoulder.  “When you know what you want, you do not let anything stand in your way.”

“Of course not.”  Darcy watched him paying for his purchase.  “Have you chosen her wedding band?”

“She will have Mother’s.”  He smiled and blushed a little.  “I
do
have a few things to give her.”

“I am glad.  And I hope they are of better taste than your sisters’ choices?”  He winked and Bingley cleared his throat. 

“Perhaps I can have them reset . . .” 

“Hmm.”  Darcy folded his arms and leaned against a wall, closing his eyes. 

“Are you tiring?”

“I am fine, Bingley.”  He said softly.  “Have you applied for a special license?”

“Why?” 

“Because it is very possible that Mr. Bennet will not be able to attend Jane at the church.  You would be able to marry in Longbourn’s parlour.” 

“I had not thought of that . . .” He sighed, “But I fear that Jane may wish to wait until he passes.”

“Why?”  Darcy’s eyes opened.

“She said that she feels it is her duty to remain at Longbourn, and that if we were married, her duty would be to me, and of course she would be living at Netherfield.” 

“I would talk her out of this, Bingley, while she may marry wearing mourning, it would hardly be the festive affair you both deserve.  You can give her up to care for her family during the day, can you not?  It is not as if you are unused to being on your own.”

“How would you feel about giving up Mrs. Darcy?”  He smiled.

Darcy shrugged, “Horrible and jealous, but I would bear it for her peace of mind.” 

“You are too good.”

“I thought that was your bride?”  Bingley laughed and Darcy smiled.  “It is up to you, I can only offer advice.  What of Miss Bingley?  Will she remain with the Hursts or come to be with you?”

“I suspect that she will prefer London.  Hurst and I have talked it over.  Our mutual hope is that with her fantasy of Pemberley dashed,”  he smiled with Darcy’s sigh, “she will make good use of the Season.  By Father’s will, she will receive her dowry in full if she is unmarried in three years, and at that time, she will be able to form her own household.  Until then, she is my responsibility.”

 Considering the plan, Darcy nodded, “Your father was a shrewd businessman.  If he were not, he would not have amassed such a fortune for you, and you would be in Scarborough at this moment working in the mill instead of talking with me.  He trusted you to do as he bid, which in turn speaks very highly of your character.”  He smiled when Bingley’s ears reddened, always a sign that he was embarrassed.  “He expected you to look after her, but he does not saddle you with her forever.”

“Hurst is eager to see her married and I am sure that if she lived with Jane and me, I would soon resemble him.  I would never leave her homeless, but . . . I
will
end my financial support when she reaches five and twenty.”

“Could you seriously stick to that conviction, Bingley?”  Darcy leaned back against the wall and studied him thoughtfully.

“As a single man . . . no, however,” he laughed at Darcy’s growing smile, “as a married man, most definitely.  I will have a family to support, and a wife.”

“Who you need to cajole to the altar.” 

“Yes, I do.”

“We will probably not be able to attend.”   Darcy said quietly.  “When we return to Pemberley, we will very soon be off to Scotland, so do not keep us in mind at all.”

“I am very sorry to hear that, but I certainly understand, I hope that Jane does.”  Bingley saw the jeweller approaching.  “Here you go.” 

“There, sir.”  He placed the watch in Darcy’s outstretched hand.  “It came out very well.”

“So it did.”  Darcy examined it and tested the connection to be sure the watch would not be lost, and a warm smile lit his face.  “Very good.  I think that she will be pleased.  I hope that she laughs.”

“MAY I OFFER you the most sincere congratulations of the staff, Mrs. Darcy?”  Mrs. Gaston asked with a smile and kept an eye on the maid bringing in a tray laden with tea and biscuits.  “We were so surprised to learn that Mr. Bingley was joining the family?” 

“Yes, he is!  And a better brother I could not imagine.  Mr. Bingley is a lovely gentleman and I know that he will make my sister very happy.”

“I look forward to meeting Miss Bennet, madam.”

“I am certain that you will like her.”  Elizabeth smiled.  “I must find her a wedding gift while we are in Town.”

“Candlesticks are always appreciated.”