Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (92 page)

“I do not know.”

“Of course you do.”  He waited and became frustrated with her silence.  “Georgiana, I am not going to treat you with kid gloves anymore, and I will not indulge you.  You clearly recognized behaviour by our cousin that my wife did not.  As disturbing as that fact is to me, the more pertinent realization is that you, my dear, are no innocent, not any more.  It has taken me some time to come to grips with that fact. I doubt that I will ever truly accept it, but the truth is clear.  My little sister is pregnant without benefit of marriage.  She is knowledgeable of the machinations of dishonourable men and is likely far more knowledgeable than my dear wife about the behaviour of men and women in the privacy of their rooms.”  Both brother and sister were blushing furiously, but he drove on to make his point.  “Elizabeth would have done anything to protect you had she felt you were in danger.  Why would you not extend the same courtesy to her?  I thought that you were getting along.”

“Cathy said . . .”

“Cathy!  From what time has she ever become your confidant?”

“She is family.”

“As is Elizabeth.”  He said tersely.  “I have told you this once and I thought it had sunk in the first time. You will treat my wife and your sister with the same respect you would accord me.  We are doing our best to help you through this terrible situation.  If you think that there is any means you could employ that would turn me away from Elizabeth, you are very sadly mistaken. Admittedly we have been very distracted while we had guests in the house, but you know full well that we wanted them to see you now, before . . . before you must be hidden from all who know us.”  He drew a breath as her eyes welled up.  “I am sorry to be so blunt, I know that you are unaccustomed to me speaking this way, but you are not a child any longer.”

“No, sir.”  Georgiana whispered. 

“And one more thing. 
I
demanded that Wickham’s portrait be removed.  Richard and I wished it destroyed.”  She looked up and stared.  “Elizabeth saved it.  I have no idea where it is and I will not ask her.  I would hope that you would not wish to stare upon that . . . man’s face again.  Regardless, any feelings of anger you have to express regarding that likeness should be directed to me alone.”  Standing, he rubbed his thumb over his ring.  “I love you, Georgiana, I always will, but I expect better from you.”

“I love you, too, Fitzwilliam.” 

“Thank you.”  He watched her twisting hands and forced himself not to fall into his old ways to make her happy again.  Instead he cleared his throat.  “Perhaps you might practice your music?  I am sure that Elizabeth would enjoy hearing you play again after dinner, she spoke of how wonderful it was to listen to someone so talented.”

“She did?”  Georgiana looked up and saw him nod.

“Yes, she did.”  He turned and left the room, hating himself, hating Wickham, hating the entire situation and feeling absolutely helpless to do anything better.  He walked up the stairs lost in thought and it was with a very dark and pensive mood he entered the drawing room where Elizabeth stood at the window.

She watched him staring into the fireplace, and reading his expression, was sure without asking that the conversation had been as difficult as he had predicted.  She remained at the window watching his reflection in the glass, and did not press him to speak.  He needed to order his thoughts.  When she saw his hand rise to wipe the corners of his eyes she knew it was time.

As she approached he hurriedly pulled out his pocket watch and made a show of checking the time against the clock on the mantle.  Elizabeth glanced out of the window and seeing no sign of the carriages, looked back to her husband.  “Are you timing them?”

“Pardon?”  He looked up.

“Careful, dear.  That frown of yours alone would likely scare the gears from turning.”  She stood before him and tapped her finger on his lips.  “Do you even know when you are doing it?”  He shook his head and she nodded towards the mirror.  Darcy looked and his eyes widened.   “Rather intimidating, is it not?”

“Quite.”  Biting his lip, he looked back to find her smiling at him.  “Clearly you remain unaffected.” 

“Clearly.” 

He drew a breath and saw the encouragement in her expression, and tried to follow her lead.  “How am I to intimidate you, then?”

Elizabeth’s head tilted.  “Why would you wish to?” 

“To win a point, I suppose.”  He said softly.

“Is it so hard to do that with your intelligence alone?” 

Darcy slipped his arms around her waist and his little smile appeared.  “When matched against your wit, I would say yes.”  Elizabeth laughed and he hugged her.  “You always put things right.”

“What things are wrong this morning?  You were happy when we woke.”

“I was embracing you when we woke,” Darcy rested his cheek against her temple “but then I looked out of the window . . .”

“And saw the snow.”

“The damnable snow . . .”

“Fitzwilliam . . .”

“Do not pretend happiness with it.”  Lifting his head he kissed her nose.  “I wanted them gone at sunrise, not at high noon.”

“As I recall,
you
invited them.  Happily.” 

“And I am an idiot, a fool, a . . .”  Her sparkling eyes halted his waving hand.  “I notice that you are not disagreeing.”

“No.” 

“I take back my declaration of admiration.” 

“Then I shall make one myself.” 

“Oh?  Out with it, woman.”

“If you are going to order me around . . .”  She let go and spun out of his arms.  Darcy caught her hand and pulled her back into his embrace.  He stood tall, attempting to glower, but failing miserably groaned and kissed her teasing smile.  “Apology accepted.” 

“Bless your good sense.  Now . . .”

“I wanted to thank you for the lovely gifts.”

“Ahhhh.  The soaps arrived?  I cannot wait to put them to good use.  I wish to bathe with you, as we did our first night together.  And now that the people who have been depressing my ardour are at last on their way, we may return to fulfilling our desires.”  The smile that lit his face faded.

You are trying so hard to be the carefree groom.
  Elizabeth held him and rested her face against his chest.  “You are insatiable.”

He kissed her hair and spoke softly, “No . . . I do not know what I am.  All I do know is that I could not face this without you.  You are my haven.”  He caressed her cheek and she looked up.  Their gazes held and feeling her tightening embrace, Darcy smiled a little.  “Besides, how can I be insatiable if we have not indulged?  Dear Lizzy love . . .  I made a terrible mistake.  Instead of holding myself back, I should have turned to you for comfort.” 

“You did, and you are now.  You tease and hold me. You kiss . . .”

“Yes, but . . . Not like I wanted to.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I scare myself with my desire for you sometimes, and I do not want you to feel . . . that I
am
insatiable.  I do not want you to sigh and bear my endless attentions.”  Elizabeth smiled and he felt relieved to see her amusement with his insecurities and said shyly, “I have waited so long for you.”

“Here I am.”  She stroked back his hair, “You have had enough of innocence?” 

Darcy looked down, then back up to her eyes.  “Yes.  For both of us.”  He smiled and played with the curls around her face. “We are still learning, lovemaking is much more challenging to learn than how to kiss.  I want us to learn how to please each other.”  He nibbled his way to her ear and whispered.  “I want to become hard in your mouth again.”  He cheered inside when her arms squeezed him.  “I can feel the warmth of your blush, love.  Even through my coat.  Tell me, what would you like me to do for you?  Tell me something that will make me blush.”

“Hush.”  She spoke quietly, “You are so different from the image you project to the world.”

“I am not in love with the world, only you.”  He looked up to the mirror to see her soft, happy smile and closed his eyes, resting his cheek in her hair.  “Roses and lavender.” 

“Oranges and sandalwood.”  Elizabeth breathed in. 

“mmmm.”  Nudging her cheek with his nose, she looked up to have his mouth caress over hers.  “As soon as they are gone, love . . .”

“What of our duties?”

“Hang our duties.”  He growled and kissed her again, then drawing back, he caught sight of movement outside.  The mood changed and they moved to the window.  Elizabeth stood in front of him, and they watched the Matlock carriages rolling slowly along the ridge on their way out of Pemberley.  Holding her shoulders, he rubbed steadily, and could feel the stress of the past few days dissipating in them both the farther away the carriages travelled.  When they disappeared from view, Darcy wrapped his arms around her and closing his eyes, pressed his cheek against hers.  Elizabeth held his hands. “It is over.”  He said softly.  “I do not know what to say, I sincerely hope that our family will heal one day, but I do not believe we will ever be close.”

“Were you close before your father died?”

His eyes opened.  “Close is not the word.  Comfortable, I suppose.”  She laughed and Darcy’s head tilted. 

“Tolerable.”

Darcy groaned.  “Lizzy . . .”

“It was not so bad.”

“How can you possibly say that?  I am deeply embarrassed for my cousin’s behaviour, what might have happened with you . . .”  Their eyes met and they kissed.  “I feel horrible for what you had to endure at my aunt’s hand.  Cathy was miserable . . .” 

“Were they so different from any other family?  Arguments, strong personalities . . . Just because you are related does not always translate to actually liking each other.  My unfamiliarity with both them and the house put me at a disadvantage.”

“Elizabeth, please.  Do not make excuses for them.  You cannot in any way cast this experience in a good light.”

“Consider my family, then.” He smiled a little but did not even consider touching that subject.  Elizabeth reached up to caress his cheek.  “Very well, we will not.”

“Thank you.  I have had enough of drama for a great while.”

“As have I, however . . .”

“Georgiana remains, yes.  I said precisely what I told you I would, dear.  Her response was exactly as I predicted.  Although, she did express surprise that she has me and Richard to hate over the portrait instead of you.”  He sighed and closed his eyes again.  “Eleven days.  We have only been free to express our love for each other for eleven days.  We went through . . . torture; there is no other word for it, and for what?  So that she can attempt to finger you as complicit in some . . . affair with my unstable cousin?  Forgive me for saying this but I have a difficult time believing her sincerity or her tears.  Her deceit to me about the situation followed by her seeming sympathy later with you only tells me that she is not trustworthy.  It never seems to have occurred to her that my feelings were hurt with the surprise of finding you in the grip of another man.” 

Letting go, he paced across the room and ran his hand through his hair as reality once more intruded on their efforts to relax.  “Why,
why
did we sacrifice the beginning of our marriage, why did we sacrifice a true engagement, a true courtship!  Why?  So that we can come home and be attacked by the very person we are trying to save?  No, no more.”

“She is angry, Fitzwilliam.”

“
SHE
is angry?”  He stared and started pacing again.  “Do not make excuses for her.”

“I am not.  I am no happier with her than you. I am trying to understand her.  She is . . . jealous then, frightened, a thousand emotions . . . Would we be together if it were not for her?”

“If you are suggesting that her behaviour was acceptable because we are together, I absolutely reject that notion and I hope that you said it as a misguided attempt to distract me from my anger.”  Darcy looked at her as he passed but kept up his pace.

“Perhaps I
am
trying to distract you.”  She raised her arms to hug herself.  “I don’t always know what to say to make everything better.  I am as lost as you are.”  Darcy stopped his pacing and turned to look at her.  “I do know that had she not driven you to desperation, Jane and I would have left Netherfield.  Who knows what might have happened.  You might have left for London and never returned.”

A pained look came over his face.  “Elizabeth . . . please.  My uncle’s news that I was to marry my cousin was hard enough to bear, please do not suggest any other way that I might have lost you.”  She took his outstretched hand and he pulled her into his arms.  “We . . . we may only just be engaged now, but . . . I know that we would be together had nothing ever happened with her.  Please stop thinking of things that never happened.”

“But it only makes my argument stronger; all I am saying is that it is time to look forward.”

“I know that!  That is what I try to do, but I find that it is often impossible when I do not know why she acted as she did!  But it
is
time for my sister to understand that for me to look forward,
you
, Elizabeth,
you
are the most important consideration in my life, and will remain so as long as I live.  Forsaking all others, is that not what we vowed?”

“I think that means we will not take lovers.”  She whispered into his chest.

“It means that I will put nobody before you.  Not our children; and certainly not my sister.  It is time that she understands that her position has changed.”

“I think that she has been aware of that for quite some time, Fitzwilliam, and that is why she was clinging to that portrait.  Whatever happened during that time with him, good or bad, she knew that she was, without a doubt, first.”

“I doubt that very much.”  Darcy growled and seeing Elizabeth’s look he closed his eyes.  “First with him.”

“oh.”  Elizabeth held him and since his briefly relieved tension was back in full bloom, she decided that it was as good a time as any to broach other subjects.  “I have decided to ask Judy to determine Betsy’s trustworthiness.”

“Who?”

“Georgiana’s maid.”  Hearing silence, she cleared her throat.  “While she is but fifteen, her lack of courses can be understandable to a servant who has only been with her briefly . . . but she is certainly approaching the time when . . . the physical evidence of her condition will no longer be invisible to a servant of such intimate acquaintance.”  Darcy clutched her and she ploughed on.  “I was planning to tell everything to Judy this week and . . . if she felt that Betsy was to be trusted, then . . . I would speak to her.”