Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (57 page)

“Fitzwilliam . . .”  Elizabeth started and her forehead creased.  “Am I mistaken, or is that Mr. Bingley and his family?” 

“Where?”  He tried to follow her gaze.

“I do not wish to point, but . . . the third box over, on the first tier, just across from us?”  She looked to him as he searched and was sent to shaking his head when he saw Caroline with her opera glasses in hand giving her brother a shove.  Bingley looked up and grinning; waved at them.  Darcy raised his hand and looked to Elizabeth.  “Yes, that is Bingley.”

“I thought he was going to return to Hertfordshire?” 

“I suppose their plans changed.  I have no doubt that they will make their way up here during the intermission.”  He sighed.  “So much for us enjoying the evening solely together.”

“From the scrutiny we have been receiving from our neighbours, I would say that we will be receiving a great many visits, perhaps even from that lady.”  She nodded to another box nearby, and Darcy, noticing her lack of enthusiasm, turned only his eyes and groaned softly.  “Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh.”

“And their glares.”  He sighed.  “Are you certain you feel well enough to remain?” 

“We have to face them sometime.”  Elizabeth whispered.  “I cannot imagine why she would attend a comedy, though.  Her face will crack!”

Darcy’s lips pursed together and his shoulders shook as he tried to hold in his laughter.  Their fingers entwined and he shot her a look.  “Thank you, love.”  They heard a bell and Darcy drew out his watch.  “Six-thirty, it is time.” 

Elizabeth looked at her playbill.  “Mr. Charles Kemble as Captain Absolute.” 

“Have you heard of him?” 

She raised her brow.  “Has not everyone?” 

“Pardon me, madam.”  His lips twitched as he bowed his head, and with a smile settled back as the performance began.  His attention moved between the actors on the stage and Elizabeth, but most of the time it was on her.  She listened raptly to the quick and fascinating dialogue, her entire body expressing her delight as she leaned forward.  Her gloved hands were as often gripping the railing as they were pressed to her mouth, holding in the laughter that threatened to pour out in an unending stream of glee.  Darcy was bewitched, and when he managed to tear his eyes away from her and glance around at his peers, he saw that they smiled, and even laughed, but they did not enjoy the performance in the same way. 
I love a laugh
.  He remembered Elizabeth defiantly saying to him seemingly ages ago. 
And I love to watch you laugh, dear.

Intermission came.  He looked down below in time to see that Bingley alone had left his box.  Breathing a sigh of relief, he noticed that Caroline was arguing with Hurst, but he managed to control her by indicating the eyes turned in their direction.  “Interesting.” 

“What is?”  Elizabeth nudged him.

“I think we may be seeing Bingley soon.”  He smiled and took her hand.  “You are having a very good time, I think.”

“I am.”  She sighed and leaned into him.  “I wish I was not so sleepy, though.”

Darcy’s lips brushed her hair and he whispered, “Would you like to go?” 

“No.”  Closing her eyes, she held his arm.  “Just nudge me if I drop off between acts.” 

Darcy chuckled and refrained from kissing her brow.  Relaxing, he looked around the theatre.  It was not filled to the rafters as it would be in the warmer months, but the performance was still well-attended, especially in the cheaper seats.  He spotted some people that he knew and hoped that Elizabeth’s prediction of visitors was incorrect, and was glad that they were not out mingling.  The people who would not hesitate to speak to them were thankfully still in their country estates.  Casting a look from the corner of his eye, he noticed that his aunt and cousin had left their seats.  He hardly expected her to come to him; she would think it below her to visit Mrs. Darcy.  He had no desire to approach his aunt, certainly not publicly in a theatre, and he had no intention to pay a private call on her in Brook Street, despite voicing his hopes for reconciliation to his uncle only the day before.  The first move was on her head, not his.  Shifting his gaze, he noticed men trying to catch his attention.

“What do you see?”  Elizabeth whispered.

“Your eyes are closed, how do you know . . . ?”

“You were soft and warm, and now you are stiff as a board.  What bothers you?” 

Darcy smiled to see her lips curved but her eyes still closed.  “Just some men who bothered me at the club.  They are attempting to make eye contact.”

“And you are glaring?”

“I am studiously avoiding them.”

“hmmm.”  She smiled, imagining his expression, then shifted uncomfortably.  Naturally, he noticed, and she could feel his eyes on her.  “No, I do not wish to go.”

“Would you like some refreshment?  May I fetch you a cup of lemonade?” 

Elizabeth’s eyes opened and she knew that he was feeling helpless.  “Am I truly torturing you so much by remaining?  Would it not be worse for you to have to face the people in the corridor?”

“I will bear anything for your comfort, dear.”  His head tilted and his brows rose.  “Punch?”

“If it will make you happy.”  She sat up and he stood with a smile.  “Go, you silly man.”

“I will not be a moment.”

“Where have I heard that before?”  She started to reach for his watch and he quickly ducked away, giving her a fleeting kiss on her hand as he went.

Darcy stepped out into the crowd, and spotting the man selling punch, headed to the table, fingering some coins in his waistcoat as he walked.  He was waiting his turn when he heard a familiar and acerbic voice behind him. 

“I have been waiting for you to come pay your respects, Darcy.  Clearly you are ashamed of your wife.” 

“Ashamed?”  Darcy turned, and looking around, saw that far too many eyes were watching.  Leaving the queue, he moved to a relatively private place along the wall, and spoke very quietly. “Yes, I am ashamed, but not of my wife, rather of you.   My mother would be devastated to see how you have intentionally harmed me.  You, my godmother, who promised would always care for me.  This is how you repay her for trusting you, by defaming the woman who would have been her daughter, who I chose of my own free will.”

Lady Catherine’s colour heightened, but she maintained her stance.  “I looked out for you after she died.  Your father was a shell of a man and I took charge until he was capable again.  You owed me for that.” 

“So this is the basis for your claims on my life?  Since when does a child have to pay for a mother’s love?  Does that unconditional feeling not apply to godmothers?  I believe it does, and when Elizabeth and I have our children, we will be sure to choose their guardians very carefully.”  He glanced around.  “Do you have any other venom to spew?  If so, I suggest that we move out of this public location so that the other patrons are not disturbed.  They paid to see a performance of The Rivals, not The Taming of the Shrew.”

“How dare you!” 

“It is appropriate, Aunt.  Both are comedies, and your attempts to discredit Mrs. Darcy are laughable.”  He raised his brows and looked to Anne.  “Have you anything to say, Cousin?  I would offer you my sympathy for having to bear such a parent, but then you participated in attempting to intimidate my wife.  I assure you, it was not effective.”

“Then why does she hide in the box?  Is she afraid to face public scrutiny?  Come, Mama.  There is nothing more to be done.  He forsook his duty to his family.”

“Never question my commitment to my family.”  Darcy growled.

“I suppose there is some truth in that, until this ridiculous marriage you have been above reproach.”  It obviously took a great deal for Lady Catherine to make that admission, but Darcy was not feeling charitable enough to acknowledge it.  Seeing his lack of response, she spoke tersely, “I understand that you have visited with my brother.” 

“Yes; and his family will be joining us at Pemberley for Christmas.” 

“Do not let his overtures fool you, Nephew.”  She sniffed.  “He wants something from you.”

“What makes him any different from you, Madam?”  Darcy lifted a brow.  “As I told him, I am very happily married, nothing will change that.  If there is a separation in our families now, it is not my doing.  The houses of Pemberley and Matlock are reconciling.  You and I have managed to maintain a strained relationship, however after your concerted effort to slander my wife; I believe that it will be a cold day before you are ever welcomed in my homes again.  You enjoy grovelling, Aunt.  Perhaps you have learned some techniques.”  He noticed that the queue for the refreshments had dwindled.  “Pardon me, I promised my wife a drink.  I hope that you enjoy the remainder of the performance.”

“Fool.”  Lady Catherine muttered as she watched him make his purchase and return to his seat. “That woman has blinded him.  My brother has wanted something from him since George Darcy died.  He is forgetting that with this . . . gauze of love that he claims he feels.”

“Did you see the way he looked at me?”  Anne murmured.  “Can you blame him for taking her?  He is not blind, Mama.”

“He is a man, of course he is blind.”  Lady Catherine glared at the door once again and spun away.  “We are leaving.  I have no interest in remaining here.  Come, Anne.  It is time we returned to Rosings.  We have been too long away.”  Walking past the door to Darcy’s box, they stole a glance inside.

“mmmm  I admit now that I am grateful for this drink, thank you.”  Elizabeth set down the cup and took a good look at Darcy.  He was staring pensively at his hands, but looked to her with a slight smile.  “I had an interesting conversation with Miss Dryden while you were away.”  His brow creased and she nodded to the neighbouring box.  “She and her mother were visiting there, and she was clearly not enjoying the discussion, so I struck up a conversation.”

“Oh.”  He sighed and took her hand.  “I am sorry dear; did you have to defend yourself once again?  I hope that my aunt has given up her campaign of bitter disappointment.” 

“No, it was cordial.  Her mother is more interested in gossip than she.  Miss Dryden assured me that there was never anything between you or any other woman as far as she knew.  And no, I did not ask for that information, it was volunteered.  I will not lie and say that I am unhappy to be so assured.  A few other ladies approached as well.  It was good to see that I am not the universal butt of a joke, some just wished to leave us alone on our honeymoon.”  Elizabeth was glad to see him smile again.   Wrapping her arms around his, their fingers entwined, and she rested against his shoulder.  “My pillow is back.”  A flurry of activity caught her attention and she looked to where Lady Catherine and Anne had returned to their seats.  Elizabeth unflinchingly met the elder woman’s eye. 

“What is it love?”  Darcy whispered and tried to see her face.   “Your grip is suddenly surprisingly strong.  Has the pain returned?” 

“Your aunt is trying to intimidate me, I think.” 

He glanced to see his aunt looking at them.  “No doubt.  And?”

“As you see, I am not cowering under my chair.”  Darcy smiled and squeezed her hand. “What happens if I break eye contact?   She is obviously not Medusa; I have not been struck dead.”  She heard a rumble begin in Darcy’s chest as he chuckled.  “Will . . . how long can she keep this up?”

“Oh hours, I believe.”  He tapped her shoulder and she turned to look at him.  “Enough dearest.  She wants attention; do not give her the pleasure.”

Elizabeth began to argue and watched Darcy’s gaze.  She knew that cold glare, and she knew precisely where it was directed.  Looking back to Lady Catherine, she saw her eyes drop, then she ordered Mrs. Jenkinson to hurry up with gathering their things, and the three women swiftly vacated their box.  Elizabeth’s eyes lit up with admiration.  “How did you do that?”

“I am a man of many talents.” 

“Really?  Will you describe them to me?”

“I would prefer to demonstrate them, preferably privately.”  He smiled when her cheeks coloured. “You made me feel better again.”

“I assume this has some connection to your aunt and the nearly empty glass of punch I received?”  His eyes widened and his pale features coloured to match hers.

“I thought I took a sip.”

“You took a fortifying gulp.”  She laughed and resumed hugging his arm.

Darcy at last relaxed, and brushed his lips over her brow.  “How do you feel?” 

“Lovely.”  He snorted.  “Hush!”  She admonished and closed her eyes.  “I hear Mr. Bingley coming.”

“You do?”  His head turned when he heard a knock. 

Bingley’s head appeared.  “Ah, the newlyweds!”  He noticed Elizabeth and his voice lowered.  “Oh!  I am sorry!  Is Mrs. Darcy asleep?”

“No, Mr. Bingley, just resting my eyes.”  She sat up and took his hand.  “Please join us.”

“I was afraid I would never make it up here, the crowd is thick, and so many friends are milling around.”  He laughed and sat down.  “I wished to greet you while I had the opportunity.”

Elizabeth’s head tilted.  “You are returning to Hertfordshire?”

“Oh.  I meant before you left for Pemberley.”  He looked away from Elizabeth’s gaze and glanced at Darcy.  “My sisters wish to remain here for Christmas, and through to Twelfth Night.”  He shrugged.  “I cannot say that I blame them, the masked balls are not to be missed.  Have you ever?”  He saw Elizabeth’s head shake.  “Oh.”  Drawing a breath, he bit his lip and looked to his hands.  “Well, you see Mrs. Darcy, the reason that I . . . well I had told . . . the people of the neighbourhood . . .” He looked at her briefly and back down.  “I had mentioned that I would be returning in a week or so after finishing my business, and . . . well, not that it should matter so much to anyone . . .” He looked at her again.  “I just was wondering if you know of anyone in the neighbourhood who might be disappointed in our delayed return.  Anyone at all?”

“Besides Mrs. Bennet?”  Darcy asked with a smirk.

“Yes, yes.”  Bingley gratefully looked at him and smiled.  “Well, she does like the house.”  His eyes lit up.  “Have you heard from your family?  I imagine they are most interested in your new home.  Your sister, Miss Bennet, you are particularly close to her, that was clear when you came to her aid at Netherfield.  How is she, I mean, how are all of your sisters?  I am sure that they all miss you.”