Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (75 page)

Thoughts of his conversations expressing his hopes for a family to Mr. Gardiner came to mind, as well as the elder man’s calm reassurance.  Darcy’s cheeks puffed as he blew out a breath of frustration and resumed his seat.  Taking the letter up again he saw where the effusions ended and questions of the estate began.  Spitefully, he debated if he would let the man founder for a month or so without a response.  “Let him make a decision without me, and
then
we will see who the man is.”  He growled and hearing something strike the floor, looked across the room to where Elizabeth was curled in a chair.   Her legs were tucked up beneath her, but a stockinged foot hung over the seat, and a letter remained in her hand as she slept. His expression softened, “I have a feeling that my wife is just fine.”

Leaving his response for a calmer moment, he set to work on his other correspondence until he noticed Elizabeth stir.   She rubbed her eyes, sending a surreptitious glance his way.  He smiled to himself and kept his head down. 

“So, what do you think?” 

“Think?”  Elizabeth blinked and then clearing the frog in her throat, sat up to hunt around for her missing slipper.  “About what?”

“Well . . . if you are not going to listen to me, I will not ask your opinion.”

“I . . . Of course I was listening!  I . . . I just was hoping you would clarify your question.”  She bent down and spotting her shoe beneath the chair, set to work putting it back on.  Darcy’s eyes twinkled, but his face was smooth when she looked back up.  “Well?”

“Well?”  He sighed.  “It is of no consequence.  You are a woman, you would hardly be interested.  I was wrong to try and ascertain your opinion.”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open.  “But . . . A woman!” 

“You are not a woman?”

“I am, but . . . what does that have to do with what . . . what we were discussing?”

“Absolutely nothing, I was merely indicating that as a woman you are disinterested and therefore did not pay me any attention.  So I will not bore you with such things again.”  Waving his hand, he picked up his pen.  “Go back to your letters; they are far more interesting than I.” 

“Fitzwilliam . . .” She looked at the letters piled by her side and put down the one she had been reading.  “You know that is not true, I want to . . .” At last she looked at his face and said accusingly, “You are teasing me!”

“Am I?”  His brow rose.  “About what exactly?”

“I am not sure, but your eyes are full of merriment.”  Huffing she reached for a new letter.  “It is unbecoming to laugh at someone.  Have your little joke, but be sure that your mother is very disappointed in you.”

“Do not drag my mother into this, Elizabeth.”

“Your governess, then.” 

He chuckled and ducked when a pillow was tossed at his head.  “Careful love, do not begin something you do not want to finish.”

“Who says that I do not want to finish, and what, by the way, would constitute a proper ending?”  Although her chin was raised, her eyes were sparkling.

“Come bend over my desk and I will show you.”  Darcy grinned.

“You
would
like that.”

“So would you.” 

“You are far too smug.  Go read your letter.”  Elizabeth ordered and breaking the seal on the note in her hand, she hid behind the pages, peeking over the top to see that he was still smiling at her.  “Go to work!” 

“Yes, my sleepy girl.”  Winking, he picked up his pen and managed to contain his laughter when she glared.  They fell into the same companionable silence they always shared while reading their post.  While considering a question, he looked out of the open window as the breeze fluttered the draperies, then noticing Elizabeth, quietly stood.   

She felt a handkerchief being pressed into her palm and looked up to see Darcy smile and return to his desk chair.  “Was I crying?”

“It is only a matter of time.”  He murmured and picking up his pen, laughed when he noticed her eyes fixed upon him.  “Do you disagree?”

“I am not so bad.” 

“Of course not.” 

“Do not placate me!”

“I would not dream of it.”  Their eyes held and his lips twitched.  “Who is your letter from?”

“Aunt Gardiner.”

“Ah.”  His lips twitched again. 

“Oh, hush!” 

Chuckling, he picked up his response and settled back to read what he had composed.  Elizabeth watched him for a few moments and then did the same.  “Oh!” 

Darcy looked up to see her working through the pile of letters until she found a particular one and hurriedly opened it.  Her hand was to her mouth as she read. 

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing . . .   Mary is with child.  She . . . she felt the baby move while Aunt and Uncle were there to retrieve the children.  Mary is overjoyed and Mama is unstoppable in her effusions for them.  Mary says that she has never received such attention from her before and is already worried what Mama will do if the baby is not a boy.  She is expecting the child . . .” Elizabeth blinked back her tears, “. . . sometime around Christmas.”  Turning the page over, she read on.  “Mr. Collins calls the baby his little olive branch and hopes that he will repair any feelings of ill-will that exist between the Collins’ and the Bennets.  He is . . . very proud.”

“As he should be, this will be the beginning of the Collins family at Longbourn.”  Darcy said softly.  Elizabeth said nothing and kept reading Mary’s letter.  At last she set it down and closed her eyes.  Darcy went to sit beside her and took the handkerchief she held so tightly.  “What is upsetting you?  I know that you do not begrudge Mary her baby, do you?”

“Of course not.” 

“Then these are not tears of jealousy?”

“No, I am happy for her, I am.  Of course Mama had to note that I am yet to give you an heir.”  Darcy caressed her hair and watched her holding back her tears, “I . . . I . . . I want to believe that I am with child so much, but I dare not . . .” She looked at him and touched his face.  “I know that you wish to believe it, too.  Your teases are all because I am behaving so oddly.  And I know that it delights you.  But what if it is not true?  What if it is and I miscarry?  I cannot bear to think of your disappointment, Will.  I cannot bear to see you so giddy with anticipation and then . . .  After all that we have been through these past months, I . . .” She looked at the letter.  “I fear that the moment where we are the ones announcing that our little one has made his presence known may never arrive.  I . . . I talked with Aunt Susan and Aunt Gardiner about what to expect and . . . although they both knew that I was asking because I felt differently, even they would not say out loud that I was . . . even they would not confirm . . . it was as if to speak of it was to tempt fate.  We have wanted this so much . . .  And it is not so long ago that we thought that I was . . . and then I was not . . . and when you were hurt and I wanted it so much . . .” Darcy’s arms came around her and she spoke into his shoulder. “Oh Will, what is wrong with me?  I am never like this!  I always try to be confident . . .  Why am I this way?” 

“I think that I know but it seems I dare not say anything.”  Drawing back, he rested his forehead to hers.  “I received an effusive letter from Mr. Collins, would you care to read it?”

“Why?  So I might wallow in doubt some more?” 

“No, I do not think that is the reaction you will feel.”  He went to his desk.  When he returned, he handed her the letter and tapped a spot.  “This paragraph.” 

Elizabeth wiped her eyes and unable to read his expression, looked down at the page.  “What is this!”  She stared.  “He calls me . . . does he think that I refuse to . . .
Contrary
!  My goodness, Fitzwilliam!”  She stared at him as he tugged the letter from her grasp and tossed it back on his desk.  “That little . . . ninny!” 

“I can think of better terms, but that will suffice.”  His lips lifted as he watched her spirits rise.

“That presumptuous, arrogant, self-important, short . . . smelly . . . Oh my, I know that Mary loves him, but . . . oh!  I cannot imagine him . . . sweating over me!  And you know he would sweat!  And fumble!  He would not know where to . . .”  She sputtered and then spoke with a decided nod,  “I bet that he never removes his nightshirt, either!” 

Darcy cocked his head and looked at her curiously, “Is that something you would care to imagine?”

“No!” 

“Then please do not colour it for my vision, either!”

Elizabeth blushed, “How does he insult and praise all at once?”

“Perhaps he learned it from Aunt Catherine.  She has a vast talent for it, does she not?”  Darcy held out his hands and pulled her up and into his arms.  “Thank you for your reaction.  Before you woke I was pacing the room, ready to mount an expedition to Longbourn to strangle Mr. Collins.”

“I would be glad to accompany you.”  Elizabeth muttered against his chest.  “But sadly that would leave Longbourn without an heir once again.”

Darcy laughed and kissed her hair.  “While I will never be close to this man I must call Brother, I can . . . tolerate,” Elizabeth looked up, “the mindless joy he expresses for his pending fatherhood, if not his insult to you.  I suppose it is no different from the one your mother expresses.”

“He is not joyful for the child; he is joyful at the accomplishment of impregnating Mary,
before
you succeeded with me.”

“Did I succeed with you?”  He asked quietly.

She closed her eyes.  “shhhhh.” 

“I would never have permitted that man to sweat over you.” 

“Oh Will, please . . .”

 “Tit for tat.”  He squeezed her tightly when she squeezed his bottom, and settling back on the desk, pulled her to stand between his legs. “Why do you worry so?  Even if these symptoms you display are merely toying with us, and . . . I know we both want it so badly . . .”  Darcy waited but she was not forthcoming.  “I will not be offended, or hurt, or . . . anything that you think I will feel, so please, tell me.  What frightens you so that even the barest whisper of speculation sends you burying your face in my chest?”  He felt her arms tighten and finally he heard her voice.

“I walk past your mother’s portrait every day, and she looks at me sadly.  She lost so many, Will.  Nearly every one of her babies.”  She paused and placed her ear over his heart.  “She nearly lost you.” 

“How . . .?”

“Aunt Susan told me.  When we were talking of childbirth and . . . I asked about miscarriages and mentioned your mother’s losses and . . . she regretted it as soon as it came from her mouth, but . . .” 

“But I was born.  And Georgiana clearly had no trouble, and neither did your mother, or your aunt, or . . .”  Darcy raised her chin.  “Here I am, love.”  She nodded and he kissed her.  “Now you are not the only one who has spoken to a relative about this.  Uncle Gardiner was very kind to impart many of his experiences to me.”  He smiled.  “Perhaps it has given me the confidence to laugh with your symptoms, rather than pace the room, terrified of what is wrong.”

“We just went through all of this with Georgiana.”

“We did not experience the beginning.  And after speaking to her, I doubt very much that she understood what was happening.  She was in such denial, and of course she was still with Wickham then.”

“That is another thing that worries me.  Would it be unkind to display our hopes or anticipation . . .”

“Now stop right there, Mrs. Darcy.  I will not, NOT, hide my feelings for you or any potential child we may have simply to protect my sister.  No.  This is our marriage.  Our feelings for our happiness are just, and I will not apologize for them.  If she does not like them, or feels slighted, well, she will simply have to live with it.  I refuse to spend the remainder of my days treading lightly around her. She made her bed, and she will lie in it.  I love my sister, but . . .” He closed his eyes.

“You are correct.” 

“No argument?”

“No.” 

Darcy nodded and searched her eyes, “Are you better for telling me?  Is it not better to have this weight lifted from your breast?” 

“Yes.”  She reached up and caressed his hair.  “Now, tell me when will you lift the weight from yours?”  The crease appeared in his brow and she smiled.  “You are not so different from me, Will.” 

They held each other’s eyes and he read the love in hers.  “No, we are very much alike.”  Leaning down, he kissed her.  “I will not press you again, but I will continue to enjoy all of the symptoms of what I hope very much will come.” 

She smiled and traced over the scar on his cheek.  “And not feel guilty about keeping your thoughts to yourself on whatever this mysterious subject is that troubles you so.” 

“Yes.” 

“You will be the death of me Fitzwilliam Darcy.” 

“I certainly hope not!”  He hugged her.  “It is a puzzle, dear.  Nothing for you to worry over, and I should not be surprised that you noticed my occasional occupation.  It is something that nags at me, but affects nobody in the end, and eventually, I will listen to my inner voice and let it go.  Will you accept that?”

“I suppose that I must.  But it is my instinct to tell you to listen to that inner voice of yours now.  If I am not to worry over it, why must you?  If it is so intangible, why waste a precious moment on it?”

“This is my reward for marrying a woman who is a keen observer of character.”  Darcy kissed her brow and drew back a little.  “Speaking of characters worthy of observation, Richard should be leaving Sommerwald today if he continues the plans described in his letter.” 

Elizabeth dabbed at the corner of her eyes with his offered handkerchief and followed his unspoken plea to move on, “Did he say anything of his time with the Kellys?”

“Yes, he cursed the four brothers he is about to gain.  They spared him not a moment with Miss Kelly.  He said that a kiss on her hand was the best he ever achieved.  The man is suffering greatly from disappointed hopes and continually found himself eyeing the blacksmith shop in Castle Douglass as an ideal place to perform a ceremony, if only he could somehow snatch his bride from her brothers long enough to accomplish the task.  Ten minutes and the deed would be done.”  Darcy laughed when Elizabeth raised her head and smiled. “What is this look, dear?  Triumph?”