Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (87 page)

“You are so desperate for a window that you would pay the tax?”  Darcy considered the man. 

“How much could it be?”  Elizabeth said softly. 

Darcy glanced at her and she saw his lips lift before he turned back to address the man seriously.  “So you would cut a hole into the wall of my house and install this window?”

“My brother would, sir.”  Mrs. Benson piped up.  “He knows what he is about.”

“I would hope so, because I will not pay the cost of any damages that might incur as a result of his work.”  Darcy pointed with his chin.   “Show me the room.” 

“Yes, sir!”  Mr. Benson scrambled out of the way and led him back to the small bedchamber.  It was dark and airless. 

“You do realize that what you gain in refreshment during good weather you may very well curse this time of year?”  Darcy looked at him seriously.  “My timber is not here for decoration, Benson.  I will not have excess trees removed to warm a house.”

“Yes, sir, I know, sir.  Mrs. Benson and I are agreed that if needed we could block it up with a blanket if there was a draft.  We would be no worse off than we are now, you see.” 

Smiling to himself at the man’s persistence, Darcy looked over the room and walked back out to the kitchen where Elizabeth was being thanked for the boxes containing clothes and food, and for the small bag of coins that Mrs. Benson quickly hid away.  The women turned to the men and stopped their conversation.  Darcy put his hands behind his back and nodded. 

“You may install the window, Benson.  Take care that it does not leak.”

“Yes sir!  Thank you, sir!” 

“In exchange,” he smiled, “I ask that you work to bring in a good harvest for me.”

“That is all, sir?”  Mrs. Benson asked.

“It is all that is necessary.  Mrs. Darcy?  I think that we have others to visit today.” 

“Indeed we do.”  She smiled and took his arm.  “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Benson, Mr. Benson.  Happy Christmas!” 

“Happy Christmas, madam, sir!”  The family chorused and one of the boys hurried to open the door for them. 

Darcy walked out and Elizabeth smiled up at him as the door shut behind them.  “That was very kind of you.  How much is the tax?”  Darcy chuckled.  “Your lips are twitching.” 

“There is no window tax on the cottages of Pemberley, they are too small and exempt.  That tax was abolished when I was still at my wet-nurse’s breast.”  Elizabeth’s hand went to her mouth and she gasped.  He glanced back at the faces in the window and helped her in before walking around to take his seat.  His eyes were smiling now.  “What are you thinking?”

“Well knowing your fondness for suckling on a breast, I could see that tax being repealed only months ago.” 

“Elizabeth!”  He snapped the reins and they set off with a lurch.  “Your mind!”

“And here I was thinking how very kind and generous you were to take on the cost of that window!  How many shillings would it be if it were part of a larger home?”

“Two.”  His head tilted.  “I am surprised that you do not know, being as familiar with your father’s estate as you are.”

“I cannot know everything, Fitzwilliam.”  Elizabeth said softly.

“I cannot believe my ears.”  Darcy smiled and looked towards the sky.

“What are you doing?” 

“I am waiting for a pig to fly by.  Elizabeth Darcy just admitted that she did not have perfect knowledge of something.”  His eyes twinkled as hers narrowed.  “Forgive me, dearest, but I have a feeling that such an occasion is going to be a rarity in our marriage and I must take advantage.”

“You, sir, are no gentleman!”  She huffed and folded her arms. 

“And you, dearest love, are the model of a lady.”  He leaned and kissed her warming cheek.  “Do you know how much I pay in window taxes each year?”

“I am afraid to ask.  It just grows higher and higher if my father’s moaning is any indication.  And you have two enormous homes just full of light.”  Seeing him nod, she bit her lip.  “Forty?  Eighty?”  Darcy chuckled.  “I do not know.  How much could it possibly be?” 

He looked ahead and flicked the reins. “A ridiculous sum, not at all helped by an indulgence of my father’s.”

“An indulgence?”

“You will see.”  Smiling enigmatically, he changed the topic of conversation to the people they had met that day and the dozens of others they had not.  In time, Pemberley House came into view.  They were approaching from a different direction than they had ever taken before, and there on a knoll beside the stables she was blinded by a glint of sunlight.  At first she thought it was the reflection from the snow, but then she realized that it was glass, yards and yards of shining beautiful glass.  Before them was a low building with a solid roof, and a full line of windows ran around all four sides.  Lowering her hand from her brow, she gasped.  “What is that?” 

“The conservatory.”

“But there is one attached to the house!  What is this?”  Her eyes were wide as they glided ever closer.

“Well, the one at the house is full of flowers and herbs for milady’s pleasure.”  Darcy leaned to kiss her.  “This is full of . . . shall we go see?  Would you like to warm for a while before we return to our guests?”

“Oh . . .”  She looked at it longingly.  “A garden . . .  I have not even visited the conservatory at the house yet.  There is so much I have not seen.” 

“Because of our guests.”  He said softly, but the disappointment was clear.  “I suppose that we have avoided them enough already for one day.”

“I suppose, but . . . the men were going hunting, so they may not have returned yet . . .”  She looked up at him and saw him nod and raise his brows.  “Will you tell me what you and Richard spoke about before we left?”

“Georgiana, what else?  I told you that he let loose some of his opinions to her last night.” 

“Yes, I was going to speak with her when we returned although I imagine Susan has beaten me to it.  She has kept to herself today.  I can understand.  I always preferred being left alone when I was in that sort of mood.  That is when I would walk.”

“It is?”  His smile returned.  “So I should not try to nudge you into good humour?  I know how fond you are of your exercise.”

“Well, I do not only walk when I am in bad humour, you know that full well, but I am curious, just how would you nudge me?”

“Visit the conservatory with me and I will show you.”  Darcy’s eyes narrowed in a challenge.  “If you dare.”

“Dare?  Ohhhh, that is temptation, Fitzwilliam!”

“It was meant to be.”  He said smugly and urged the horse on towards the stables.  “I like to tempt you.  Of course, many layers of clothing will have to be removed.”

Elizabeth gasped and put her hand to her chest.  “Pardon?” 

“If I am to ravish you . . .”

“Ravish me!”  She squealed. 

A deep hearty laugh rumbled from his chest.  He hooked his hand around her waist and pulling her to his side, nuzzled her throat.  “You wish to be ravished, my love?”

“If it means spending time in your arms, you know my answer.  You need not ever ask.”  He looked down to her sparkling eyes and kissed her.  Elizabeth pressed her palm to his cheek before redirecting his eyes forward.  “I love you, dearly.  Do you know that?”

Darcy nodded and beaming, looked ahead.  “I do.”  

“COME ON DARCY!”  Richard’s voice floated into the drawing room.  “You were with her all morning!”

Darcy sighed.  He stood behind the sofa where Elizabeth was seated, and continued his caress over her throat.  “I hoped that they would have been out much longer.  But there they were like a welcoming party at the stables.”

Elizabeth reached up to take his hand.  “We will visit the conservatory some other time, dear.” 

“I know.”  His thumb rubbed over her ring.  “But I had wanted to show you something very particular.”  

“What is blooming, Fitzwilliam?”  Susan asked with a smile.  

 “The passion flower, Aunt.”  Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand and smiled to see a delicate blush colour her cheeks.  “Elizabeth has a great interest in healing and I have read of its medicinal properties, particularly in calming those in a state of . . . agitation.” 

Elizabeth’s blush was deepening, but she squeezed his hand in return.  “The name seems to be at cross purposes to its use.” 

“A tea is made from the plant.”  Susan nodded thoughtfully.  “It is good for insomnia, I believe.  Perhaps I should write to Harding about it.  He has not slept well in months.”

“Oh?  Is something plaguing him?”  Lady Matlock asked and sat back as two footmen carried in the heavy tea trays and set them down.

Susan started and looked at Darcy and back to Lady Matlock, “Oh, the court cases, I imagine.”

“Hmmm.  Time to retire then if it is too much for him.  Orgeat?”  She picked up the decanter filled with whitish liquid.

Darcy, giving Elizabeth’s hand a last squeeze, let go and returned to unconsciously tracing his fingers along her throat as he latched onto the new subject, “I hope that our cook did a better job making it than Uncle’s did.  I did not appreciate chewing my serving, but I could not very well spit it out.”

Lady Matlock’s brow wrinkled.  “Our cook did not strain out the almonds?”

“No, it was at Uncle Harding’s home.”  He smiled at Susan apologetically.  “I am sorry.”

She looked surprised, “I wonder what happened?   Cook has made it for years, but then I have not been there for so long, perhaps she forgot.” 

“All the more reason for you to go to London, Aunt.  Perhaps retirement
would
be ideal for Uncle.”  Darcy smiled and bent to kiss Elizabeth’s cheek when he heard Richard’s voice again.  “I will leave you ladies to your tea; I will see if I can satisfy his demands.  A half-hour, dear?”

“I will be ready.”  She watched him go then noticing the two women observing her; she went to work warming the china with a little hot water before beginning to make the tea.  “Lord Matlock served orgeat to us in London and mentioned your fondness for it.  I admit that I knew nothing of the drink.  I asked Cook to try making some for your visit.”  She laughed when Lady Matlock’s brows rose in surprise, “It seems to have taken several tries before she was satisfied with her attempts or we would have had it sooner in your visit.”

“I prefer it in my coffee, but it is quite nice in tea.”  Lady Matlock watched her spooning the leaves into the pot and filling it with the hot water.  “Well I suppose that I should be pleased that my husband remembers my preference for the drink.  I grew fond of it when travelling in Spain and Italy.”  Pouring some into a teacup she tasted it.  “Quite good.” 

Elizabeth sat back as they waited for the tea to brew and smiled.  “I am glad that you like it.  I will be sure to tell Mrs. Johns.” 

“What else do you and Fitzwilliam have planned for today?  I would think you were tired after delivering gifts all morning?  Especially seeing how cold it was for you.”  Susan asked.

 “Oh, since we did not visit the conservatory out by the stables, he wished to show me the one attached to the house.”  Moving on, she looked at Lady Matlock, “I was surprised that Fitzwilliam had never delivered gifts to the tenants before, but then I learned that he generally spent the winter in London.”

“Naturally, he was unmarried and his friends were there, and why try to heat this enormous home if you are not hosting a houseful of guests?   Most of my friends return to their country estates for the festive season but after epiphany they begin drifting back to Town, well some do, the ones who have had enough of their horses and hounds.”  

“Samuel told me that they had a very nice time at the hunt today.  He so rarely has a chance to participate.  If he finds a nice place to practice law outside of London someday, perhaps he will be able to enjoy it more often.”  Susan accepted her cup and added a bit of the syrup.  “It was so nice to see all of the men continuing to get along this morning.”

“Well . . .” Lady Matlock shot a look at the door.  “Hopefully it will last the day.  Cathy is keeping to her rooms; I suppose that I will have to look in on her to see what has her nose out of joint.  Where is Georgiana, and would you please explain her absolute silence?  The girl was always shy, but she is quite at the age where she needs to display her assets, and that means having something to say.  Something is not quite right with her, but I cannot put my finger on it.” 

“I had a nice chat with her after breakfast; she did not seem terribly out of sorts then.”  Susan met Elizabeth’s eye and her look belayed her words.

“She is at the age where ranging between silence and outbursts is common.”  Elizabeth spoke quickly as she poured out.  “I have two younger sisters and they are either sulking or chattering their heads off.  It is a difficult age.”

“hmm.”  Lady Matlock picked up her cup and took a sip.  “If that is so, Cathy has been fifteen for a decade.”  Susan and Elizabeth looked at each other in relief and stirred their tea.  “Well in any case, this mood will pass and you must begin to work on her future.” 

“Fitzwilliam and I have her future very much in mind, I assure you.”  Elizabeth changed the subject.  “Now the viscount, what are his plans?”

“Who knows?”  She said angrily.  “He is a never ending disappointment.  We indulged him and this is the result.  I will be working to marry off him
and
Cathy this Season. They should both be settled with children by now.”

“I know that you had hopes for Lady Cathy and Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth met the countess’s sharp eyes, “but the daughter of an earl would certainly be the object of a great deal of interest from many gentlemen.”

“Oh, she was in her younger days.”  Lady Matlock sighed.  “But . . . I suppose that we kept holding out for a better and better prize,” she noticed Elizabeth’s look becoming possessive and continued, “which we have obviously failed to capture, and now, I am afraid that she resembles her namesake a little more than we would like.” 

“Lady Catherine.”  Elizabeth let down her stance.  “She resembles her in looks; too.  Now that I think of it, Cathy and Anne are very similar.”

“Anne is weak, like
her
namesake.”

“What was Fitzwilliam’s mother like?”  Elizabeth looked between Susan and Lady Matlock.  “His memories are those of a child, idealized and fuzzy at best.  His father told him tales, but those are not his own thoughts of her.”