Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (52 page)

“It is quite all right, dear.  We are in the way; we certainly do not wish to make things worse between you.”  Mr. Gardiner patted her arm.  “We understand.”

“No, you do not. A friend unexpectedly arrived just before you, and Fitzwilliam is seeing to him.  Truly, just take a seat, he will be back soon.”  Elizabeth led them to the sofa.  “Would you like a drink?  We have some lovely sherry.”  Instantly a footman appeared and poured out three glasses.  Attempting to look unaffected, Elizabeth took the first glass and watched her nervous relatives take theirs.  “Thank you.”

Silently, the boy disappeared and she drew a long breath and smiled at them.  “Well, tell me what you think?  Is it not lovely?  I was so overwhelmed when Fitzwilliam brought me home, but he was so happy to have me here, I did not have a chance to be uneasy.”

“The house is beautiful, dear.  I could hardly believe we were entering such an address, and to see how lovely it is . . .”

“I remember Mama’s comments about Netherfield when she viewed the parlour,” She sank down onto another sofa.  “She gushed.”

“She would.”  Mr. Gardiner admitted sadly. 

The room became silent and the Gardiners looked between each other.  “Is everything better between you and Mr. Darcy?” 

“Yes, Aunt.  Please let me apologize again for our imposition, I am ashamed of my behaviour.”

“Is there anything that you would like to talk about, dear?”  Mrs. Gardiner glanced at the doorway.  “In privacy?  Your uncle and I are so worried about you.  We thought that, we had the impression that there is an . . . impasse between you that might be the cause of your tension?”

“Mr. Darcy did not express anything to me dear, but I thought I could read something in his eyes.”  Mr. Gardiner said carefully.

“He has very expressive eyes.”  Elizabeth blushed.  “But no, we are fine.  Now tell me, have you heard anything from Jane?  She has not written to me once since we were married.  I hope that she does not think it would be an imposition to write to me, although I can well imagine her doing so.”

Mrs. Gardiner studied her intently, but knew Elizabeth would not budge if she was not going to talk.  “Well, yes, she would.  She is missing you.”

“And she was afraid that I would read her letter and feel terrible?”  Elizabeth sighed.  “Oh, Jane.”

“I AM SO SORRY, DARCY.  It never occurred to me that you would be entertaining, and I am so used to coming this time of day.  I misread your note . . .”  Darcy held up his hand to halt the flood of apologies, and Bingley stopped.    “Mrs. Gaston was rather terse with me.  I have never seen her be so short, so naturally I had to ask the reason.”

“I think that all of the staff have been working very hard to make this night a success for Elizabeth.  It is her first time hosting anyone that we actually invited; even if it is relatives who would undoubtedly praise everything no matter what was set before them.”  Darcy closed his eyes and leaned on his desk, crossing his arms.  “I am grateful that you appeared.”

“Why?  I seem to recall you stating at Netherfield that a visit by me during your honeymoon would be most unwelcome.  I was surprised to receive your invitation today, even if I did misread it.”  Bingley laughed.  He started to lean on the bookshelf, then checking where he was moved down a few feet before settling back comfortably.  Darcy watched him and a small smile appeared on his face, his eyes twinkled and he began to laugh softly.  “Darcy, what on earth has struck you?”

“Elizabeth fell through there yesterday.  It seems like weeks ago, so much has happened.”  His smile faded and he looked up to his friend who was watching him.  “When I proposed to her . . .”

“When you kissed the stuffing out of her!”  Bingley laughed.  “I will have to remember what you did there, Darcy, who knew you could!”

“What shocked you the most?”  Bingley puffed his cheeks and his eyes grew wide.  Darcy urged him to speak.  “Were you shocked that I would choose her?”

“Well, you did fight a good bit.”

“We were not fighting.”  Darcy sighed.  “Forget I said anything.  You came for a reason.”

At last Bingley seemed to cotton on to his friend’s question.  “Darcy, admittedly I thought you would choose a woman of your level and I was surprised at first, but then when I started to think about it, and talked to Hurst, I realized that you chose with your heart, and that is something I greatly respect.”  Darcy nodded and Bingley laughed.  “Besides, who am I to judge what you do?  Elizabeth is above my sister, and I considered her for you . . . briefly, briefly, when we first met!”  He grinned and held up his hand against Darcy’s glare.  “I imagine the thought crossed your mind about me and your sister at some point, it is only natural for a brother with a sister to marry off to consider every man of his acquaintance for the position of husband.”  Seeing Darcy’s mouth open, a smile crossed his face.  “You did think of me and Miss Darcy!”

“Yes, I did, admittedly it was far in the future, but of the friends I have, I found you to be one I could trust with her wholeheartedly.”  His eyes flicked up and he saw Bingley’s pleasure with the praise.  “But I would never have suggested such a thing for many years, and of course by then you will have been long married.”

“Thank you, Darcy.  I am without words.”

“Bingley, please.  It is not up for discussion now.  Please tell me your troubles.”

“No, no, you have guests; I will be on my way.”

“Elizabeth wishes for you to join us, and I . . . would appreciate it.”  Seeing his friend’s curiosity, he sighed.  “It is her relatives from Cheapside.”

“ahhhh.” Bingley nodded.  “Coincidence, that.”

“What is?”

“My reason for coming.  I told you my sisters wanted to return to London, and they installed me in Hurst’s home.  They said that they did not want me returning to Netherfield because they did not want me to be influenced by the Bennets to offer for Miss Bennet.”

“And the reason they gave?” 

“Any number of them!”  He waved his hand in the air, and began to pace.  “Her indifference to me, which I realize has been already pointed out by everyone else I know.”

“I did not say she was indifferent . . .”

“No you called her content.”  Bingley turned and shot him a look.  “My sisters have decided to attack her connections to trade now, saying it would not do for me to be interested in such a woman when we are trying to separate ourselves from that stigma.”  Darcy nodded.  “Hurst says it is balderdash, but he cannot laugh off her lack of dowry as easily.”

“I am glad that he is sensible and gives you sound advice.  Do you love her?” 

“I do not know.  The separation has not answered my questions.  When you are away from Mrs. Darcy, what do you feel?” 

Darcy thought of his desperate ride to find her the night before and his fingers naturally went to his ring.  “Utterly lost.”  Bingley’s brow creased.  “You do not feel that way?”

“I cannot define it.” 

“I cannot help you with that, each man is different.  But I can introduce you to the Cheapside relations, and you may decide from there if that alone is enough to help make up your mind.”   Darcy smiled.  “And please help me find something to talk about!” 

“Darcy, what are you worried about?  Never have you had trouble finding a subject to discuss when your wife is near.”  Bingley nudged him as they left the study.  “Tell me I am wrong?  If anything, you cannot stop yourself!  Just look at her and you will find something to say.”

“I suppose so.”  He glanced at his friend.  “You are forever pushing me out of my corner.”

“I am glad that you have a wife to do it now.”  Bingley laughed.  Upon arriving in the drawing room, Darcy apologized for his absence and introduced Bingley to the Gardiners. 

“It is a great pleasure.”  He smiled, and then turned to Elizabeth.  “Thank you for your tolerance, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Your company is always much more than tolerable, Mr. Bingley.”  She peeked at Darcy who sighed, but smiled.  “I hope that your discussion was helpful?” 

“Promising, love.”  He took her hand and kissed it, then held it in his clasp.  The move was noted by the Gardiners and seeing their attention, he immediately deduced they were looking for signs of trouble.  “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, will you indulge me for a few moments?  I am glad to have this opportunity to praise my wife before people who will truly appreciate it.”  Elizabeth looked at him quizzically, and he smiled.  “My dear Elizabeth took on a Countess today.”

“I hardly took her on; you make it sound as if we were at fisticuffs!”  She laughed.

“The woman’s inquiries were as sharp as any blade in a knife fight.  She was not in the least intimidated by my presence.”

“Dried up wretch.”  Elizabeth whispered.  Darcy chuckled and Bingley’s mouth dropped open.

“Lizzy!”  Mrs. Gardiner cried.

“I am afraid the description is apt, madam.   What did you say of her, love?”

“She resembled a raisin.  Particularly as she was wrapped in that purple, well, whatever it was.” 

“Indeed.”  He nodded and looked to their shocked guests.  “The lady had a niece, you see, and I had unfortunately danced with her last year and made, apparently, a good impression.”

“You?”  Bingley snorted.  “I missed this ball!”

“I will not address that statement; however she clearly did have an eye for my husband.  Another one!  I am becoming used to this, though, and I have decided that there is no use in being upset by them, after all I am the one you chose.”  Elizabeth’s chin lifted.  “But the variety of them is what amazes me, and their reactions upon meeting us range from genuine disappointment to contempt.  Forgive me Mr. Bingley, but your sister was without doubt ambitious, but at least she had an excuse for it.  Lady Atherby . . .”

Darcy greeted her with one arched brow.  “Are you implying that marrying me would be a step down for her?” 

“There was no implication, Darcy, she outright said it!”  Bingley chuckled. 

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled.  “What she would have done to you.” 

“I shudder to think.”  Again he kissed her hand; this time brushing his lips over her ring, then laughed softly, “I believe that the countess murmured something similar about you, dearest.”

“Time will tell.” 

“Please note how I have done nothing to defend my sister.”  Bingley winked at the Gardiners.  “That shows you the veracity of the Darcys’ statements.” 

They smiled at each other and looked back to their guests.  “Forgive us for our flippancy; it has been a challenging day.” Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes.  “A promising day.”

“A joyful day.”  Darcy said positively when she looked up to him.  “Of that I have no doubt.”

“I am overwhelmed to see the happiness between you, and I am grateful for it.”  Mr. Gardiner smiled.  “I admit that my wife and I were hesitant to keep our appointment.”

“I am sorry to have given you such trepidation, sir.”  Darcy looked at him seriously. 

“Why would you not wish to come?”  Bingley looked between them.  “Surely Darcy’s thunderous frown would not scare you off?  I assure you it is just for show.”

“Until it is directed at you, friend.”  Darcy glared as Bingley laughed.

“Mrs. Darcy.”  Lowry arrived.  “The dinner is ready, madam.”

“Shall we?”  The company rose and Darcy and Elizabeth led the way downstairs.  She glanced back to see that Mr. Gardiner and Bingley were talking easily while Mrs. Gardiner looked around her in awe.  Darcy shook his head.  “What is it, Will?”

“My greatest friend is easily speaking with a man I disdained only yesterday.”  Lifting her hand to his lips he kissed her fingers.  “I am humbled by the lessons you teach me, daily.”

“Mine is not the only vessel being filled?”  Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and she tilted her head when he laughed softly.

“No, love.  But filling yours to brimming will be my greatest accomplishment.”  His smile grew as a blush travelled up her throat to her face.   Bending down, he whispered in her ear, “I cannot wait to surprise you with a kiss.”

Chapter 17

“H
ow are you doing, Wickham?”  The quiet, deep voice asked of the man huddled into a corner of the darkened room.  “How has my man been treating you?”

“What do you want of me?”  He mumbled. 

“Let us talk about that.”  Placing a chair before him, the man sat and turned up the wick in the lamp he had set down on the floor beside him.  Wickham squinted against the nearly blinding light.  “I watched you for years.  I did not particularly like it at the time, after all, you were using George Darcy for your own means, but then I thought, why not get some of that capital back? 
I
will use you.” 

“Yes, yes, and I crossed you, I know.  But you have not killed me, yet, anyway.”  His eyes finally adjusted to the light and he stared at his jailer.  “What do you want?”

“How is your arm?”

“It hurts like the devil, but it has not gone rotten.”  He moved it tentatively.  “How is yours?”

“Healing.”  Crossing his legs, he fished out a snuff box and took a pinch.  “Like some?”

“That is the rich man’s pleasure, give me a cigar.”

“I am giving you your life.”  He snapped the bejewelled case shut and put it back in his coat.  “I want to know why you did not marry my niece.”

“Is this why I am not dead yet?”  Wickham watched the man watching him; something had changed in his expression.  There seemed to be a war of emotions playing out in his oddly moving eyes.  But he knew that he had better answer truthfully.  “I knew you would be waiting for me at Pemberley.  I would have to be publicly acknowledged by Darcy and go there to collect the dowry.  He would have despised me, but as we were married, he would have held back his fury.  Despite it all he is always honourable.”  Shaking his head, he sat up straight.  “You would have shot me on the spot and made an excuse to your nephew later; anger that the steward’s son married her would probably suffice.  He would never need to know any of this, and likely feels that I should be dead anyway.  I have no doubt that the colonel does.”

“No doubt.  And why did you keep her?  Why would you hurt her that way?”  Wickham said nothing while the man worked it out.  “You thought of the ransom.  That may have worked if you asked for it quickly, but four months?  That was added insult to the injury you inflicted, Darcy would have received a ruined and damaged sister and paid you for the pleasure.  You tormented that man.  Not knowing what had become of her, he mourned her while searching desperately.  He blamed himself, he questioned his worth, he questioned his life . . .  Surely revenge on Darcy did not require that deep of a wound; after all, he really did not do anything to you, did he?  He was actually very good to you.  And dear Georgiana, how you have hurt that girl!”  The man contained the despair he felt.  “All I asked for was a little romance, a kiss . . . I was going to witness it and everything would have been over.”  Studying Wickham’s defiant face, his mouth opened in surprise.  “You thought you were in love with her!”