Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (55 page)

“I look forward to meeting the rest, particularly Lady Cathy.” 

“Oh I assure you my dear, she is most anxious to meet you.”  Lord Matlock snorted.  “She was fixed on you, Darcy.”

Darcy sighed.  “I am married, very happily married, Uncle.  It is time to let whatever hopes you and Aunt Catherine had for my wife go, and I have no intention of dissecting it further.  I have made my choice, and I am grateful she accepted me.”  He looked to Elizabeth and smiled to see her blushing, then turned back to Lord Matlock.  “I am not a naive and overwhelmed young man anymore, Uncle.  I needed a guiding hand when Father died, I needed support.  You were one of my godfathers.  I wished that I could have turned to you, but your determination to command rather than help disappointed me, so instead I turned to my Uncle Darcy, and you did not like it.” 

His face grew red.  “It was an insult!  What does that . . . lawyer know of being a man of your position?”

“He is a judge, and grew up there, who would know better what Pemberley was?”

“No, do not give me that, my son knows nothing of Matlock, he only knows the interior of the brothels, he is no better than my father with his whoring and gambling . . .” He saw Elizabeth’s eyes widen.  “Forgive me, Mrs. Darcy, I forgot you were there.”

“You have not seen me since I arrived.”  She said softly. 

“That is not true, tell her it is not true, Darcy!”

“You ask my wife not to curtsey but you expect her to call you Lord Matlock?”  Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand.  “Uncle, your letter of welcome was surprising to say the least, which raised my suspicions.  I would prefer honesty.  My Uncle Darcy railed longer and harder than you.”

“He did?”  Lord Matlock shot a look at Elizabeth.  “Why?”

“It is not your business.”

“No, I suppose not.”  He sat back and studied Elizabeth.  “You are chomping at the bit to speak your mind, madam.  I know that look, I grew up with it, and I married it.”

“Then it seems that I am not so unlike what you are used to knowing in a woman.” 

Lord Matlock rubbed his chin.  “Do you have any idea what my sister is spreading around about you?”

“Oh yes, I have encountered the results of her invectives many times in the past week.”  Elizabeth leaned forward.  “And I laugh at them.”

“Laugh?”  He was taken aback.  “She insults you and you find it amusing?”

“Not at first, but once I had heard the same accusations repeated, nearly word for word, five, six . . .”

“The count is not important, the lack of respect is, and will be remembered.”  Darcy said softly.

She nodded and felt his hand tighten over hers.  “I had no choice but to return to my first impression of Lady Catherine.   She is a jealous, spoiled, unchecked old woman whose daughter is as unattractive and talentless as she.  She is angry that her daughter marrying anyone other than my husband means that she will likely be sent to the hedgerows, or rather the peerages’ version of them, the dowager’s house, and she used every trick she could fathom to tug on Fitzwilliam’s well-established loyalty to his family to force him to marry his miserable cousin.  Well, I can only say how proud I am of him!”

“Naturally, he married you.”  Lord Matlock snorted.

“No, not because he married me, but because he was not tempted by the prospect of gaining another estate to marry Miss de Bourgh.”  Smiling at Darcy, she squeezed his hand.  “You sir, are a rarity in this world.”

“As are you, Elizabeth.”  He lifted her hand to his lips.

“You truly came to him with nothing?”

“One thousand pounds upon my mother’s death, sir.”  Elizabeth held her chin up high.  “A handsome fortune.”

“That would not last one evening in the hands of my son.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.  “Who taught your son to be so wasteful?” 

“Darcy will you call off this terrier you have married?”  Lord Matlock stared.  “Good heavens!”

“Never insult my wife again, sir.”  Darcy said quietly.  “Never keep her waiting; never treat her as anything less than whom she is, the Mistress of Pemberley.  Now that I am married, and this hope of yours and Aunt Catherine to attach me to your daughters is over, I would like to see our family relations improve, no more subterfuge, Uncle.”

“Very well, then.”  He looked between the two of them and picked up his glass.  “What say we have this toast now?”

Darcy looked at Elizabeth and nodded.  “To . . .”

“The ties that bind.”  Lord Matlock raised his glass.  “To family.”

“To family.”  They murmured, and emptied their glasses.

“There.”  Lord Matlock took a long, satisfied breath. 

“Orgeat?”  Elizabeth smiled.  “Oh, I like this!” 

“Perhaps I should try it?”  Darcy reached for the bottle.

“Oh no, no, stick to your port, you do not want to mix the flavours.  You know better, Darcy.” 

Sitting back, he shrugged.  “I cannot argue with that.”  

Lord Matlock rubbed his hands together.  “Well, shall we speak of family we both enjoy?  You have spent a fair amount of time with Richard of late.”

“I saw him briefly at White’s.  He seems frustrated with his superiors.” 

“Yes, I will be glad to find him a good wife, hopefully one who can allow him to retire from that blasted army . . . Oh forgive me my dear, I see that I have offended.”

Darcy looked to Elizabeth, and noticed her eyes had widened.  “Elizabeth?”  Her hand rested on her stomach and she bit her lip.   “Dear?”

“Excuse me, Lord Matlock, do you mind if I take a stroll and admire your home while you talk?”

“No, no, not at all.”  The men stood as she practically jumped to her feet. 

“Are you well?”  Darcy took her hand.  “Lizzy?”

“I . . . I am afraid that I need to . . .” She blushed and closed her eyes as she gasped and bent with a cramp.

“Good Lord, what is wrong?”  Darcy drew her into his arms.  

“It is nothing, I just, could we go home?”  She looked up at him.  “I am sorry.”

“No, no.”  Kissing her forehead, he rubbed her back and looked to his uncle who was staring at the embraced couple.  “I am sure you will be fine.  Uncle, forgive us for our abrupt departure.”

“Yes, Mrs. Darcy . . . can I aid you at all?”  Elizabeth squeezed her eyes tight and gasped as another cramp seized her.  “Darcy, perhaps she should lie down here?”

“Yes, we will call a physician.”  He said decisively.

“No, please, just please, take me home.”  She opened her eyes and looked up at his deeply worried face, and caressed his cheek.  “Dear Fitzwilliam, I will be fine, I just need to go home, please.” 

“Home?” 

“Yes, please.”  She tried to smile even as tears filled her eyes.

“Yes, of course.”  Biting his lip, he scooped her up in his arms. 

“Will!”

“You are trembling like a leaf, Elizabeth.”  He started walking; a maid in the hallway jumped to attention, running to gather their coats while a footman flew outside to alert the coachman.  Darcy cuddled her to his chest.  She could hear his heart pounding against her ear.  “Please Elizabeth, please be well.”  He spoke into her hair.

“I promise, I will be fine.”  She whispered even as she tried not to be sick.

“Your coats sir . . .” 

“Just put them into the carriage.”  Darcy ordered as he strode out into the cold air and down the steps. 

“Your port!”  Lord Matlock followed him out and put the bottle onto the pile of coats as they settled into their seats.  “I pray that you are well, Mrs. Darcy.”

Lifting her head from where she leaned into Darcy’s arms, she looked at him directly.  “Elizabeth, sir.  We are family.”

“Good day, Uncle.”  

The footman closed the door and the carriage took off.  Lord Matlock stood staring after them until a sudden squall of snow woke him from his contemplation.  “Good day, indeed.” 

Chapter 18

P
acing his study, Darcy ran his hand through his hair for seemingly the thousandth time since they had returned home.  Elizabeth insisted that he put her down and further insisted that he let her go upstairs alone, only asking for Judy to come to her side.  Arguing with her about calling a physician was useless, she would not hear of it.  “
What is wrong
?”  He demanded of the air once again, and went to stand at the fireplace, staring at the flames as they licked over the coals.  In the pit of his stomach he felt fear growing.  “Please be well, dearest.”

“Sir?”  Lowry entered with a crystal decanter and set it on a table.

Darcy stiffened.  “What is that?”

“The bottle of port that was with your coats, sir.  I thought that you might like some and prepared it for you.”

He stared at the wine, and shaking ridiculous thoughts away, he glanced out of the door.  “Is there any word from Mrs. Gaston?”

“I am sure everything is fine, sir.”  He said reassuringly.  “She would have asked for a physician immediately if one was needed.”

Robbie knocked.  “Mr. Darcy?   Mrs. Darcy is asking for you, sir.” 

Nodding, he practically flew from the room and up the stairs.  He arrived outside of her chamber and came to a dead stop, then composing himself, he knocked and entered.  Elizabeth was lying across the bed on her stomach.  Her arms were wrapped around a pillow, and she was facing the door. 

“Hullo.”

“Hullo?”  He stared then closed the door and moved to stand beside the bed.  “That is all?”

“What would you prefer to hear?”  She patted the mattress.  “Sit down, please.”

Darcy took in the scene.  Elizabeth had changed into a morning dress and hot water bottles were tucked all around her.  “You are not dying.”  He said flatly.

“You seem somehow disappointed.”  Taking his hand in hers, she pulled him down to sit.  “I am so sorry to have frightened you so deeply, and do not bother to tell me you were not, the evidence is clear in your eyes.  I was taken completely by surprise myself, but it was hardly a subject that I could discuss before your uncle.”

“What is the subject?”  He whispered and caressed her hair.

“My courses.”

“Oh . . .
your courses
!”  He started, then his face coloured deeply as he searched his memory for everything he knew of this disturbing situation, and started babbling as he sought to assert control.  “It has been a very emotional time, I am sure that is the cause.  I pray that you will soon be . . .   I am so sorry dear, for you to have to endure this . . . I do not know what to say, you are such a strong woman . . .”

“Oh Will, it comes to all healthy women who are of age to bear children.”  Elizabeth smiled when he seemed to be at a loss for words. 

“Oh.”   Darcy stared at her helplessly and looked down at their hands.  “I know very little of this.”

“I am not surprised, being an unmarried man with a very young sister.”  Elizabeth held his hands.  “Georgiana never . . .”   

“How should I know!”  He suddenly blustered and Elizabeth laughed.  “This is not amusing!  I was downstairs imagining your death and thinking of how deeply I love you . . . and you . . .”  He waved his hand uselessly over her.  “Elizabeth . . . you could have the decency to be . . . miserable!”

“Oh my!  You make me feel so much better!  I
am
miserable, I promise.”  She wiped her eyes and started laughing again, and then sitting up, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly while he clutched her just as hard.  Drawing back, she smiled at him.  “I am so sorry to have scared you.  We were sitting together and that first cramp came, oh Will I thought I was going to die then and there.  I have not felt such pain in years.  I will definitely not be drinking any black tea for the next few days.”

“Why?  No, do not tell me.”  He searched her face and whispered worriedly as he pulled her back into his embrace.  “It does not always hurt like this?” 

“No, no, it usually is no problem at all.”  She nestled into him.  “It did hurt long ago, when I first began, but I have been trying to think what is different now from the last time.”

“You are married.”  He whispered.  “Marriage made the curse worse.”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy, please tell me that you do not subscribe to old wives’ tales!  How can you blame marriage when we have not . . .”  Darcy’s eyes cast down and Elizabeth stroked his hair.  “Do you know what marriage has done for me?”

“Besides doubling you with pain?”

“Yes.”  She shook her head with exasperation.  “It has given me you, for one, my dearest Fitzwilliam, who I know I love beyond all reason.”  He smiled a little and she laughed.  “And it has stopped me from exercising.”  Darcy’s brow creased when she nodded.  “When have I had a decent walk since we wed?  Only that one day when we walked from the museum.  Your lifestyle sir; has adverse effects on your wife.” 

“So you are telling me that you have to walk?  But I thought that this . . . condition . . . leaves a woman . . . helpless.”  He sighed to see her eyes sparkle.  “Walking is good?”

“I never had pain like this when I did.”  She raised her brows.  “And I surely do not want to experience it again, at least not until I am giving our first child life.”  A true smile appeared and he kissed her softly.  Darcy lay her back into her nest, tucked the bottles around her, and then standing, he removed his coat, cravat and shoes.  “What are you doing?”     

“You seem to need warmth to relieve your symptoms, and you have told me that I radiate a great deal of heat.  I shall warm you.”  Darcy grabbed a pillow and threw it down, and climbed onto the bed, stretching out by her side.  He hugged his pillow and smiled at her, nose to nose.   “I realize that it is a terrible thing to wish you pain, love.  But I cannot wait for the day when we have our first baby.”

“Neither can I.  And Mama says that having children will stop this for a time.”  Elizabeth blinked a few times and shook her head.  “The laudanum is starting to make me sleepy.  Mrs. Gaston wanted me to take a lot more than I did.  I want to feel better, not be comatose for the next week.  I will have to teach her about the herbs we used at home.”  She smiled when he stroked her hair.  “The worst will be over in a few days.”