Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (2 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
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“It was just a shock to be someone else all of a sudden.  I suppose that I have to become used to it.”  His unrelenting attention held her eyes.  “That makes two false names I have taken in the past year.” 

“But you remain a Darcy.”  He said seriously.  “And that is all that matters.”

 

“WHAT A CONNIVING LITTLE WEASEL!”  Richard leaned against the door of the officer’s barracks and read over the letter from his cousin.  “I’ll be damned, Darcy, you stood up to the bastard!  I never would have thought . . . well, I suppose that everyone has his breaking point.”  He rubbed his face thoughtfully and stared out across Hyde Park towards Park Lane.  “But I certainly can understand your disquiet.  I pray that you are reading him correctly and he will not expose Georgiana, but that does not mean that he is through with you.  What will Wickham do when he receives your letter?” 

“Colonel Fitzwilliam.”  A man’s voice spoke with quiet authority and instantly Richard straightened.  “I would like to speak to you, please.”

“Of course, General.”  He quickly put away his letter and joined his commander.  Silently they walked together to his office and Richard closed the door, waiting for him to take his seat and receiving silent permission to take his own. 

The elder man shuffled through some papers and at last looked up to Richard.  “It has come to my attention that your family is in some financial difficulty.”  He noted Richard’s eyes narrowing but there was no further sign of a reaction.  “Not refuting the claim?”

“Forgive me, sir, but I do not see that it is any of your business.”

“It is if the prospect of losing one of my best men is on the horizon.  I realize that you know you have been tested lately.  The extra work sent your way, for example . . .”

“I noted it, sir.  I have not complained.”

“You never do, Fitzwilliam, and you always perform well.  I have been asked to put together an elite group of soldiers . . . ones who take their soldiering seriously, not just these boys whose fathers could afford to buy the highest rank available.  I want men who can do more than look fine in a uniform.” 

“And what will this group be doing, sir?”

“Working.”  He saw Richard’s expectant stare and smiled.  “Not good enough for you?   You are not intrigued by the prospect?”

“I am no longer foolish enough to not ask questions, sir.”

“I see, that tells me that you are also thinking of life beyond the army and may not be up to risking your neck much longer.”  Richard said nothing and the General nodded.  “In other words, the family is on your mind and you are the prospective saviour.” 

“I have always been prepared to take my brother’s place should he become unavailable.”

“Die.”

“I am no different from any other younger son.”  Richard said stiffly.

“True, I was once third in line for my father’s estate.  Now I believe I am somewhere around twentieth in line, if you look at all of the boys my elder brothers have produced.”  He laughed and saw that Richard maintained his stony expression.  “I would like very much to see your focus return to your job.  Something has been occupying you for at least the last nine months; you are not at your best.  I need you and I want you to take on this new position.  It could be the making of you, without a doubt it would lead to a promotion, and you are young enough that it could be the launching point of a spectacular and long career.  I want you to take a fortnight leave, speak with your father and see if you will be needed at home soon.”

“And resign my commission if I am.”  Richard said emotionlessly. “My father’s home is less than a mile from here, sir.  It will not require a fortnight to reach it and speak with him, and if I do, I already know the answer.”

“Do you?  And it gives you disquiet?” 

“It is not something I seek.”  He said shortly.

“And that is why you would do well by it.  So you must face up to the facts, you may be a Member of Parliament before long.”  The General raised his brows.  “I have watched you, Colonel.  Your heart is not in soldiering anymore.”

Richard finally broke his stoic stance and stared down at his gloved hands.  “I am intensely proud of what I have accomplished here, sir.  And grateful for what this life has given me.  I shudder at the thought of what I may have become without it.  But I feel the pressure of responsibility to my family, and if you speak of my heart, I assure you, it is not happy with the position I am to take, either.  Vulture-in-waiting.”    He was surprised to hear laughter.  “Sir?”

“Son, are we not all in that position?  One way or another?”  He leaned forward.  “You are an outstanding leader of men, they love you.  I have heard of many a boy expressing glee that he was assigned to your guidance.  How that will translate to being an Earl is a mystery, but I can see you shaking up those old fools in Parliament and doing wonders to resurrect your ancestral estate.  I would prefer to keep you, but it is not my decision.  Weigh out the greater good.  Where are you needed most?” 

“I do not know.”

“Well, find out.  There is nothing I hate more than indecision.  Make up your mind and stick to it.  I will see you right here in a fortnight.  Dismissed.” 

“Yes, sir.”  Richard hurriedly stood and saluted before leaving the office.  Showing no emotion, he walked across the yard to notify his major that he was going to be absent and after packing a few things and speaking to his batman, he climbed on his horse and rode out of the barracks.  Heading along the border of the park, he looked through the trees and saw the light drizzle of rain making millions of dimples in the water of the Serpentine, disturbing the peace of the normally placid surface.  “Just like me, I can find no peace anywhere.”  Turning from Knightsbridge at Hyde Park Corner, he rode slowly up Park Lane and without a thought, turned again around Darcy House and into the mews to stop at the stables.  “Ho!”  He cried.

“Colonel?”  A boy appeared, a brush and curry comb in his hand.  “Good to see you, sir.  You know the master’s gone home?”

“Yes, I do.”  He stayed on his horse, undecided what to do.  “Is any of the staff about?  Mrs. Hutchins or Lowry?”

“Yes sir, nobody’s been let go.  I hear Mrs. Darcy sent a note that Mr. Bingley and his new wife might be coming to stay for a bit of a honeymoon if they can get away.”

“Is that so?”  Richard smiled.  “They are to marry?  Mr. Bingley is marrying Mrs. Darcy’s sister.”

“Yes, sir.”  The boy smiled.  “So I hear.” 

“I suppose that you hear a great many things, Joey.”  Richard studied him.  “Do you remember Mr. Christmas?  He was calling on Mrs. Hutchins for a time.”

“Yes, sir.  I was with Mr. Henry, bless him, one time.  We was taking the carriage down to be worked on in Cheapside, and we saw him coming out of a boarding house.  ‘There’s Mr. Christmas’, I said, and Mr. Henry agreed, and I tell you sir, it was the oddest thing because he was talking to a man I swore could have been the master, but what he’d be doin’ in
that
part a town is beyond me.”

“Was it Mr. Darcy?”

“Nah, just tall like him.”  He smiled.  “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?  I’d give your mare a rub down, but her coat’s so shiny I can see myself in it!” 

Richard laughed.  “Well, I do have many grooms looking after her.  I’ll tell you what, you run into the house and warn Mrs. Hutchins that she may have a house guest and to lay in some port if the supply is low.  I’ll be by in a few hours.”

“Not staying in Grosvenor Square, sir?”

“My heart’s not in it.”  He fished out a shilling from his purse and tossed it to him.  “See you in a bit.”

“Thank you, sir!”  Joey set down his brushes and took off running. 

“Good lad.”  Richard smiled and putting his purse away, found Darcy’s letter again.  Ignoring the rain, he looked at the address Wickham had provided and curious, he turned his horse out of the mews and went riding back out onto Park Lane and away from his father’s home.  “Now, where could this be?” 

After making a few inquiries along the way, he found himself outside of a tobacconist’s shop.  “Curious.”  He said softly and swung down from his horse.  Instantly a boy eagerly appeared and offered to hold her for him.  He gave him a shilling and promised another, then casually strolled into the shop and breathed in the pungent air.  “Good day.”  He nodded to the man seated at a bench rolling cigars.

“Good day, Colonel, what can I get for you?”  Wiping his hands, he got to his feet and stood at the counter.

“How is your snuff?”

“Ah, the finest!”  He brought down several jars and opening the lids, went over the virtues of each.  Richard drew out the jewel encrusted snuff box Darcy had bought him and the shopkeeper’s eyes lit up.  “My goodness sir, now
that
is a thing of beauty!”  Richard laughed and handed over the woman’s leg for him to admire. 

“I’m quite fond of it myself.” 

“Don’t let your wife catch you with it.”

“Ah.”  Tapping his nose, Richard took it back.  “No wife.” 

“Good for you, sir.”  The man said fervently and then looked at the jars and Richard. 

“Ahhh, this one I think.”  As his purchase was bagged, he looked around the store.  “This may seem an odd question, but I have to say that I was surprised to find your shop here.”

“It’s been here nigh on twenty years, sir.”  He laughed.

“I must be mistaken then. A friend gave me this as his address?”

“Oh . . . I take in the post for a number of men, sir.  They move around frequently so they use me as their fixed address.”

“So there is no way to find the man himself?”

“Depends on who you want?  Some are near and I can point them out to you?” 

“Wickham?”  Richard asked and casually drew a half guinea from his purse. 

“Well, I . . . shouldn’t really be saying, sir . . .” A second half guinea was placed on the counter.  “Just across the street, sir.  He just picked up a letter a little bit ago.” 

“Really?  If only it had been this easy nine months ago.”  Richard tucked his sack of snuff in his coat and nodding, wandered outside and looked thoughtfully up at the apartments over the row of stores at the ground level.  “Well, let’s see if you are at home, old boy.” 

 

WICKHAM HELD THE LETTER in his hands and stared at the imprint of the Darcy seal.  That alone confirmed Darcy had received the note.  “Good girl, Georgie.”  He smiled and thought of her. 
My sweet little girl.
  He sighed and looked back at the note.  “Well . . . let’s see what he says . . .”  With a combination of eagerness and trepidation, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter.  “FD?”  He stared, turning the paper over and back again.  “
FD
!” 

“That is all?  It cannot be!”  Running his hand through his hair he rose up to pace around his chamber.  “He said no?  How can he say no?  He never says no . . .  I didn’t expect him to give me ten, but . . .
something
!  Five at least, is that too much for his sister’s good name? 
Now
what can I do?”  He closed his eyes.  “Damn it!”  His eyes opened and he stared around at the room.  “He would not even negotiate, he . . . he knows that I will not expose her.” 

Pacing the floor, he stared angrily at the letter.  “FD . . .
Fucking Darcy
!  I should be your brother now!  I should be your brother, and Georgiana should be my wife . . . with my
legitimate
baby!”  He stopped.  “Wouldn’t that be rich?  I would be married to her, she would have the baby and then maybe I
would
have the courage to kill you.  I could have fulfilled the madman’s plans, well, some of them . . . A Wickham,
my
son, master of Pemberley . . .”

Sinking onto the bed, he held his head in his hands.  “You coward, you won’t kill Darcy, you won’t expose Georgiana, you would never hurt her again . . . But if Darcy isn’t afraid of me anymore how am I to survive?  Join the militia?” 

Outside in the hallway, Richard stood with his ear pressed to the door.  Already he had heard things that both pleased and alarmed him.  And as far as he was concerned, he was just going to let Wickham keep talking. 

“Why isn’t he afraid of me?”  Wickham wondered.  “Why has he changed?  I was sure that he would be desperate to keep it all quiet.  No, he
is
desperate, but he . . .” Completely at a loss, he bent down and picked up the paper.  “If he knows that I will never hurt her again, then I cannot threaten him.  But . . . I
could
threaten the judge.  Surely he would not want Darcy to know what he tried to do.”  He swallowed nervously and nodded.  “It could not hurt to try.” 

Richard’s brow creased. 
The judge?  Is he this madman?
  Straining to listen, he did not notice the drunken man stumbling down the hallway until it was too late and he tripped hard over Richard’s boot, throwing him off-balance and into the door.  It burst open and Wickham jumped to his feet and stared. 

“Fitzwilliam!”  He said with a strangled cry, and before Richard could untangle the other man from his legs, Wickham had snatched up his coat and thrown open the window. Climbing out onto a narrow ledge, he grabbed a downspout and slid to the ground.  By the time that Richard reached the window, Wickham’s tall form was zig-zagging through the traffic on the cobblestone road.

Richard swore and struck his palm on the window sill.  “Slippery as an eel the damn bastard!”  He turned and seeing the drunk passed out on the floor, he kicked him into the hallway and slamming the door, proceeded to search the room.  All that he found were clothes, Darcy’s letter, and most disturbingly, a lock of blonde hair tied with a pink ribbon.  That, he pocketed along with the letter.  Scanning the room once again, he lifted the mattress and then noticed a floorboard with scratch marks on it.  He pried it up and found a crevice.  “What did you keep hidden here, I wonder.”  Richard sank onto the bed and opened Darcy’s letter, and laughed humourlessly at the initials.  “Well, you called it correctly, Cousin.  I will give you that.”

Rubbing his face, he thought over everything that he heard and a sick feeling welled up in his breast.  “I hope that I am wrong . . .” Madman, judge, and then Joey’s cheerful words about a tall man who resembled Darcy speaking to Mr. Christmas.  “Good God.”  Slowly he stood and looked around the room once more.  “I will catch up with you Wickham.”  He said bitterly.  “But it seems that I’ll be spending my fortnight of leave at Pemberley.” 

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