Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (74 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
7.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Carson reached forward to steady him.  “Of course . . . forgive me, sir, but are you in pain?  Shall I bring you some headache powder?”

“Yes, yes, that would be welcome.”  He focussed on the burning almonds and recalled the letter he had received from his nephew the morning after the dinner. 
I almost killed Fitzwilliam!
   The intensity of the anxiety attack increased. 
I do not want to die!
   Running to the commode, he vomited into the chamber pot, and sank down to the floor amongst the scattered pages of Susan’s letter.  “Wickham  . . .  something about Wickham . . .”  He looked up when Carson arrived with the glass of wine and without hesitation, drank the bitter concoction down.  Closing his eyes, he willed the drug to work.  “Susan . . . help me.”

 

“GEORGIANA, COME AND LOOK.”  Susan stood at the window in Samuel’s bedchamber and waved her over.  “Look at them!”

Georgiana watched as her brother snapped the reins of his curricle, urging the horses to gallop.  Elizabeth was holding Darcy’s arm with one hand, her bonnet with the other, and was clearly laughing.  He was grinning from ear to ear.  Approaching a curve before the house, he slowed them down, and safe from their breakneck speed, the couple kissed.  Smiling again, Darcy looked forward and laughed in response to something Elizabeth said.  He pointed to the house and soon they disappeared from view. 

“I do not remember Fitzwilliam ever looking so happy before.” 

“It is such a pleasure to see.”  Susan studied her niece.  “You did not have times like that with Mr. Wickham?”

“No, but . . . I do not think that George would have thought I would enjoy such frivolity.  He was always very considerate.”

“Always?”  Susan watched her eyes cast down and taking her hand, they sat down on the bed.  Maybe now she would finally start to talk about what happened.  “What did he do?”  Georgiana pressed her lips together and Susan tried again.  “How did he turn your head?”

“He . . . He complimented me, he told me I was the prettiest woman he had ever met.”  She blushed.  “I have felt so . . .” She picked at her gown but was staring at her breasts.

“Self-conscious?”  Susan said kindly.  “You have grown a great deal in the last year.  You have become very womanly.”

“It seemed like I was constantly having to get new dresses made, they were either too short or too tight.”  She glanced at her breasts again. “And then I started . . . Mrs. Younge said that the courses starting meant I was ready to be a wife to some lucky man.  That began when we arrived at Ramsgate.  I was so frightened, I did not know what was wrong with me, and I was feeling so ugly . . . and then George dropped out of the clear blue sky.”  She smiled and then it faded.  “He was so kind, and . . . he reminded me of Fitzwilliam.  I was missing Fitzwilliam so much then.”

“Fitzwilliam and Mr. Wickham grew up together.”  Susan murmured, thinking of how Wickham might use Georgiana’s love of her brother to win her loyalty.  “Did he say how he knew you were there?”

“Oh, he said he was just enjoying the fresh sea air, and he spotted me.  He could not believe how grown up I was.  He just seemed to know so much about me and the things that I liked.”  She smiled softly, “And then we would take walks every day along the cliffs and sometimes on the sand, and he would tell me wonderful stories . . . it was just so wonderful to have such a handsome man want to spend his time with
me
.  And it was nice to have other ladies looking at us together.” 

“Did you know those ladies?”  Georgiana’s head shook.  “And eventually he proposed to you.”

“Yes.”  She got up and walked back across the room.  “I wanted to tell Fitzwilliam, it was such exciting news, but George was so persuasive . . .” Her voice died away and her eyes filled with tears.

“I think we have said enough for now.”  Susan joined her at the window and put her arm around her.  They could just see through the bare branches as Darcy drove along in the distance. 

“Do you like Elizabeth?” 

“Very much.”  Susan looked at her seriously.  “She could be your greatest friend if you will let her, and I know that she would like to be your friend.  You know, in some ways she is very frightened, too.” 

“What do you mean?”  Georgiana said sharply.  “What does she have to be frightened about?”

Susan laughed.  “My dear, you have pointed out frequently how she is
not
the sort of woman your brother should marry.  Well why is that?  Because she is not of your circle, correct?”  Georgiana nodded.  “Think of all of the changes that have just occurred in her life, very quickly, and think of what your brother told you about their engagement and marriage to date.  The reason that nearly every one of those moments of misery occurred was because of their rush to try and make Fitzwilliam’s plan to protect you possible.   She was willing to do that for him, and for you.”  Susan hugged her.  “The next time you feel up to speaking to your brother, ask him exactly what he proposed to Elizabeth.”

“She told me to think today about people wanting to use me to their own ends.” 

“Did she?”  Susan said thoughtfully.  “I like her more and more.”

 

“WE DO NOT NEED A PRIVATE ROOM.  Father, please, let us just join the crowd and eat!”  Richard demanded and pointed towards the sound of the noisy tavern.  “Could you for once stop being the earl and just let your hair down?”

Samuel grinned.  “There you go, I cast my vote to Richard’s proposal.”

“You would not catch Darcy in there!”  Lord Matlock growled.

“Would too.”  Richard said triumphantly.  “I have witnessed it myself, and, may I add, he might even have enjoyed it.  Hard to tell though, you never know if it’s a smile or a grimace on his face.”

“I would think it was a grimace.”  Samuel offered and cleared his throat when he became the subject of their stares.  “I would think.”

“mmm.  So would I.”  Lord Matlock’s stomach grumbled loud enough for the others to hear and throwing up his hands, nodded.  “Very well, in we go.” 

The innkeeper’s wife led them to a table in the corner, and they sat down.  Richard, with his back to the wall, happily surveyed the scene.  “I love a good inn.”

“Better than a tent?”  Samuel asked and nodded when three tankards of ale were set down. 

“What will you be having?”  The buxom maid asked, leaning over the table invitingly.  “Lovely pies, very warming on a cold night.”

“Excellent.”  Richard smiled and leaned forward to poke at her breasts.  “There are many lovely things here tonight.  Will they keep me warm as well?” 

“All night, if you like, sir.”  She winked at him, and turning away, Richard gave her bottom a squeeze.  She laughed and wiggling her hips, she walked away. 

Taking a long drink he set down his tankard and beamed at his father.  “Well, my evening’s entertainment is set.” 

“Son . . . no.” 

“What do you mean, no?”  He patted his coat.  “I can afford her, and I have a nice supply of skins, courtesy of my cousin.”

“I have one son trying to kill himself through vice, not you, too.”  The maid reappeared with their dinners and went to settle down on Richard’s lap.  Lord Matlock reached over and pulled her off.  “He changed his mind.”  Handing her a few coins he shooed her away.  “For your trouble.”

“Oh.”  The girl frowned and saw Richard glaring at his father then looked at the money in her hand and shrugged.  Turning to Samuel, she smiled invitingly and leaned down.  “What about you?”

He stared at her cleavage.  “No . . . no thank you, miss.”

“Ah shame, I’d have been your first, I’ll wager.”  She patted his cheek and laughing, went off to another table. 

Richard’s loud laughter woke Samuel from his frozen state.  “Well that was worth the humiliation by Father just to see you turn every shade of red.”  Chuckling, he raised his ale in a toast.  “To youth and innocence.”

“I am not innocent.”

“It certainly appears that way.”  Lord Matlock laughed.  “Forgive me, Richard.  Obviously you are well versed in dabbling with maids, but I would prefer not to know about it.” 

“You sound like Mother.”  Stretching his arms up over his head, he yawned.  “One more day.  I cannot wait to arrive at Pemberley.  All the dear family together.”  His sharp eyes travelled the room, always on the lookout for Wickham. 

“Who do you seek?  Everywhere we go, you are looking at faces.”  Catching the men exchanging glances, he demanded, “Out with it!”

Shrugging, Richard dug into his plate of food.  “It is nothing Father.  A cur who did a friend wrong.”

“And why does young Samuel know about it?”

“Oh, he asked about what constituted a hanging offence.”  He smiled when Richard looked up with an appreciative grin. 

“Good one!”

“You are rubbing off on me.” 

“I think that I liked you better when you emulated Darcy.”  Lord Matlock looked at him pointedly then turned to his son.  “You are lying, Son.  And whatever it is, concerns something that Samuel knows about.  Now, you two are not bosom buddies, but you are both loyal to Darcy.  What has happened?  Who has wronged Darcy?  Is it my sister?”  He pounded his fist on the table.  “Meddling witch!”

“No, no, Father.”  Richard grabbed his arm before he pounded their food from the table.  “Aunt Catherine has been silent since Darcy saw her at the theatre.”  He sighed.  “Just let it be, Father, please.”

“Does it have anything to do with his wife?”

“No.”  Richard smiled.  “Not at all.  Give it up, Father.  Eat.” 

“Well . . .”  Sighing he took a bite and chewed.  “Do not let your mother catch you, whatever it is.”

 

“WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, DEAREST?” Darcy tilted his head to read Elizabeth’s expression.  They were standing on Pemberley’s drive, at the precipice where the carriage had revealed the first sight of the manor to her.  His arms were wrapped around her waist, and his hands covered hers.  They had spent hours travelling the park, and then circling the home farm to look at the recent improvements, barely beginning to take in all that there was to see.  It was too cold to press on, but neither wanted to give up their privacy and return just yet.   Elizabeth leaned back into his embrace, and they looked out at the estate spread before them.  “Lizzy?”  He said softly.  “Please tell me.  How do you find Pemberley?”

“What can I say?  It is beautiful.  I could look upon this forever and still not have my fill.  You have every right to be proud, and careful, and everything that you were and are.”  She looked up to see his cheeks colouring.  “I am wholly unprepared for this place, this gloriously beautiful home.”

At once his embarrassment was replaced with concern.  “How can you doubt yourself?  Where is that courage that rises to face every challenge?”

“It is taking the opportunity to rest in the arms of the one person who will tolerate my insecurities.”  Darcy chuckled and squeezed her tightly.  “You
do
tolerate them . . .”

“If you will tolerate mine, love.” 

Elizabeth turned and looked up to him. “You know that I find you eminently tolerable.”  She kissed his smile, and brushed his cheek with her gloves.  “Longbourn seemed so huge to me.”

“And now?”

“I suspect that I will soon feel the same about Longbourn as I do about the cradle I once slept in.”  She laughed.

Darcy kissed her brow.  “You have traded the safety of that cradle for a much bigger world.” 

“Hence my concern.  Now, tell me what is it that worries you?” 

His smile faded and his voice lowered, “I was not supposed to be doing this yet, my education was unfinished.  My father should still be alive, but how can I be content that he . . .” Shaking his head, he stopped.

She considered him for a few moments.  “I know you well enough to see that you are tearing yourself up inside.  I can feel your hands clutching me.  Fitzwilliam, I am not going to disappear just because you are missing your father right now.  You are allowed to be happy that we met.  It does not betray his memory any more than your happiness with our marriage means that you are delighted Georgiana ran away.”

“You can read me so well.”

“It is all in your eyes.” 

Darcy’s forehead rested against hers.  “What else do you see?”

“I know that you are thinking that if your father had lived, this disaster with Georgiana would never have happened.”  He nodded.  “It is not your fault.   Take the good with the bad.  And there will be good from Georgiana’s tragedy.”

“A baby.”  He sighed.  “I could not have considered saving them both with any other woman by my side, dearest, and I cannot imagine facing this alone.”  Darcy kissed her softly.  “You question your worthiness.  How could I bring someone less worthy to be here with me?” 

She smiled.  “I think you should reserve your opinion of worthiness until you see me with your family.” 

“I already have.” 

“And yet you still manage to love me.”  Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and Darcy shook his head, drawing the back of his hand over her jaw before lifting it to kiss her softly, then deepening the caress, they lost themselves in the embrace of their mouths. 

At last moving to her ear, he whispered, “If it was not so cold, I would be leading you to a private place near here and taking advantage of you.”  Elizabeth laughed as his arms enveloped her.

“A private place? Where is this?” 

He let go and taking her hand, they walked down the drive a little way, passing the horses stamping impatiently and to a well-worn path leading up into the groves.  He pointed.  “Do you see?” 

She looked through the trees.  “A . . . not a cottage, it is too small.”

“More along the lines of a shack.”  Darcy smiled.  “During the harvest, a few men stay up here, watching for the walnuts to start dropping and keeping the wildlife away during the night until they can be gathered.”

She turned to him and laughed.  “I have never heard of such a thing!” 

“You have never seemingly lost your crop overnight.”  He looked up at the tall trees creaking in the wind.  Elizabeth followed his gaze.

“You think of the smallest things. What else do you think of?” 

“It is cold, we should return to the house.”  He looked down to her upturned face.  “Your nose is red.”

Other books

Deadline by Maher, Stephen
Blackmail Earth by Bill Evans
They Came Like Swallows by William Maxwell
The Black Box by Michael Connelly
Nothing is Forever by Grace Thompson
Rise by J. A. Souders
Sweet Chemistry by Roberts, September