Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (128 page)

The veil was folded back from Elizabeth’s face and she was welcomed back into the church just as their son was welcomed for the first time.  Tears streamed over her cheeks as she moved to join Darcy, who had been sitting in their pew alone, unable to be near her inside of the sanctuary until the ceremony was completed.  Elizabeth could have been churched at home just as their son had been christened, but this was the heir of Pemberley and they wished for both mother and son to be received into society within the embrace of the Darcy ancestors, and before the people whose lives would be touched by this child’s decisions one day. 

The congregation watched the young couple smiling at their peaceful baby and then at each other as the service continued and communion was celebrated. Darcy moved as close to Elizabeth as he dared with so many eyes upon them, and was hard pressed not to slip his arm around her waist so he could hold his family closer. 

At last the sermon ended and the benediction given; and they accepted the congratulations of their neighbours and tenants before waving off William’s godparents, Harding, Susan, and Samuel, to the celebratory breakfast at the manor.  Harding took Susan’s arm and walked to the church door, but paused before he stepped from the gloom of the sanctuary into the sunlight.  He watched Darcy cradle his son and walk with Elizabeth to present the baby to his parents.  Harding hung his head, and then smiling slightly to his understanding wife, walked outside.

“Mother, Father . . .” Darcy paused as emotion again welled up in his heart and voice.  “I have a son now.  I am a father.” 

William’s eyes opened.  He stared up at his father in the fuzzy, concerned way that newborns do.  His eyes were as beautifully blue as the blurred ones that stared down at him.  His hair was as dark as his mother’s and it seemed, Darcy noted with unending delight, as stubbornly curly.  His mouth, Elizabeth smiled as she touched his tender cheek, formed the perfect bow just like his father’s.  Already he looked as if was just holding back an amused twitch of his lips or, she thought fondly, was preparing to bestow a kiss.

Darcy addressed the crypt, “This is William . . . Please forgive us, but I could not call him Fitzwilliam.  One child threatened with the nickname of Fitzy is enough.”

“You do not look in any way like a Fitzy.”  Elizabeth assured him, as she hugged his arm.

“That never stopped Richard.” 

“I wonder if Sophie has given him his toy soldiers yet.”  She said thoughtfully. 

“Pardon?”  Darcy’s brow creased.

“She was going to give him a set when she suspected she was with child.”   A slow smile crept over Darcy’s face and Elizabeth laughed.  “Are you pleased for him, or pleased that now you may pay back the torture he has inflicted upon you for the last six months?”

“I am of course happy for him.”  He paused and his eyes twinkled, “And me.” 

“Be kind.” 

“Why?”

“If for no other reason, we are standing in church.”  Elizabeth’s eyes were sparkling.

“Which reminds me of my purpose.”  He smiled softly, and then laying his hand on the tomb became serious once more.  “Thank you for looking after Elizabeth as she laboured.  I am sure you must have heard me begging you for strength that day and the weeks that followed.”  Elizabeth rested her hand over his as he swallowed and found his voice again.  “Please be your grandson’s guardian angels, just as you have been mine.  I have learned the lesson well that I need not bear the burdens of life alone.”  His arm moved around Elizabeth’s waist and he hugged her to him at last.  “I pray that these visits will always be made . . .”

“Joyfully, as a family.”  Elizabeth whispered and he nodded.  Their eyes held until William at last let out a squawk and broke the mood.  They laughed and Darcy reluctantly gave his son back to Elizabeth.

She touched her finger to the baby’s lips and he immediately latched on.  Smiling, she looked up to her captivated husband, “He will need to be fed soon.  I’ll just take him outside; you go on and speak to your parents.”

Shaking his head, he looked back at the tomb and then to his son, “I am finished, dear.  Let’s take our baby home.” 

“I AM SURPRISED that you did not record his name the day he was born.”  Harding said from the library door, and then advancing into the room looked down at the Bible where Darcy was writing out the record of his son’s birth. 

“I did not wish to tempt fate.”  He said softly.  Bending, he blew on the ink as it dried.  “Father marked down Georgiana’s birth that very day.  I stood beside him and watched his joy.  I remember I was no taller than this pedestal.”  He looked down at the image of the boy he was then.  “He was bursting with pride.  And then . . .” Darcy’s finger traced up the page, and there beside his mother’s name was the date of her death.  “I know it is ridiculous, but I . . . I suppose I am a little superstitious.  I dare not encourage any . . . anything that might endanger Lizzy.” 

“She is well past the dangerous point now.” 

“She was feverish for so long.” 

“Only a few days.”

“So very long.”  Darcy whispered. 

“You have a son now.”  Harding reminded him and clasped his shoulder.  “A very healthy one.  As healthy as your wife.”

Darcy put down the pen and closed the inkpot as he nodded, “Georgiana’s confinement went so well that I was fairly relaxed through Elizabeth’s pregnancy, even the pending birth did not frighten me as it should.  But now after seeing her, after sitting with her as she suffered . . .” He looked at his uncle, “Did I not care for my sister?  Did I think that she deserved the pain she felt?”

“As I recall when we stood outside of her door at Sommerwald, you were hardly at ease.”

“No, I was not, but during Elizabeth’s suffering, I wonder if I felt as she did, if I can now understand the terror she felt as she waited for me to be found . . .?   Has it been over a year since I was hanging onto that cliff, talking to Father?  He seemed so close.  I never told Lizzy, but he was offering me his hand.  He told me it was so warm where he was.  I was so very cold; and Mother was there waiting to embrace me.”  Darcy looked down at the Bible and saw Elizabeth’s name.  “But I could not leave her, never.” 

“And there is the answer to your questions.”  Harding walked away from the Bible where he had been staring at the names of his lost children. “You resisted succumbing to George’s offer of relief because you loved Elizabeth.  You were terrified of losing her to the birth of your child because after a year and a half of marriage . . . Well, she is your heartbeat now, even more so than she was at the cliff.”  He smiled as Darcy rubbed his chest.  “I thought that you were finished with that.”

He started and looking at his hand, dropped it to his side.  “I was . . .” He smiled ruefully.  “It is an old habit that reasserted itself in the last month.  I almost think of it as a blessing.  Elizabeth was so furious with me when she was labouring, seeing my rubbing, that I think her mind was quite distracted from the pain as she concentrated on venting her fears upon me.”  Harding’s brow creased and Darcy waved his hand.  “Whenever you see her truly angry, there is likely a strong sense of terror behind her sharp tongue.”

“So that is not such a bad habit?”  Harding nodded to his hand.

“Well.  Yes, of course.”  He instead twisted his ring. “I have been a father for all of four weeks . . .”

“And I am not the least surprised that Elizabeth refused to remain in the house any longer.”

“No.”  Darcy laughed.  “No, I did not see her confinement lasting forty days.  Not with spring bursting all around us.  She needs her garden, she needs to be outdoors.  One of the reasons why I wanted her was because I knew that she belonged here.”   He walked to the open window and looked out at the gardens.  “Uncle . . . I understand now . . . you and my father.” 

Harding looked away from the view and stared at his nephew, “What do you mean?”

“I have just been introduced to this little man who will grow to be the life tenant of this estate.  I love him and will throw myself before a runaway carriage to protect him . . .” He turned to Harding.  “The point I am trying to make is that I understand now why Father would not risk exposing me to Samuel when my cousins were dying, and I understand why you would despise him for protecting me, just as you were desperately trying to protect Samuel from the same fate as his brothers and sisters.  I have only had this feeling for weeks, where you both had nursed it for years, and as you said with my love for Elizabeth, it only grows stronger with time.”

“Yes.”  Harding walked back to the Bible and read over the names.  “It took me nearly twenty years to see what you just have.  And in that time, my soul was rotted.”

“I do not believe that, sir.  If I had lost my children; or if I had lost my Lizzy . . . I can envision myself becoming a very broken and bitter man.  I might turn to any sort of thing to distract me from my pain.  I might take on the promotion of a favoured servant’s son . . . I might devise ways to protect my children’s birthright.” Harding looked up and Darcy held his eye, “I might ingest a seemingly harmless drug and not question why my emotions became stronger and my relationships weaker.”

“I pray that you never imagine a need for any sort of distraction.”  Looking down, Harding closed the Bible and rested his palms over the cover.  “If this is what you feel now, imagine what you will think when your son is of age?” 

“What will the world be like?”  Darcy smiled and let the subject go. 

Harding felt his respect for his nephew grow and managed a smile, “I will not be alive to know, I am afraid, but I hope to be counted as one of your guardian angels.” 

“I would be honoured, sir, but by then, you will have your own grandchildren to look after.” 

He laughed, “Samuel is in no hurry, I assure you, despite his mother’s wishes.” 

“No hurry for what?”  Samuel entered the library and rubbed his hands together with a grin.  “I go to pay a call and I return to find you two talking about me.  Let me guess, marriage?”

“You are a man of a certain age, and you must be in want of a wife.”  Darcy winked as his cousin’s eyes rolled.

“Not you, too.  When my name is over the door to the law office,
then
and
only
then, will I woo some beautiful young lady.” 

“In other words, please abandon the subject.”  Harding smiled.

“Hmm.  Mark the day, Uncle.  When we raise our glasses in toast to his accomplishment, we will then open the door to allow the hordes of waiting mamas in to present their girls for his selection.”

“I will enjoy that.”  Samuel puffed his chest.

“No you won’t.”  Darcy and Harding said together. 

“Well, maybe not, but it
is
years away.”  Samuel leaned on a table and folded his arms.  “Has there been any word from London?”

“A never-ending stream of it.”  Darcy carried the pen and ink to the writing desk and then went to pour out some wine for the three men.  “Since the baby was born, a day does not go by without a letter from one relative or another.  Poor Lizzy, she is of a mind to write one response and direct everyone to go visit that person to hear the news.”  The men laughed as he handed around the glasses.  “Manning finally proposed to Cathy.  They spent the Little Season going around together and, as I suspected, she relaxed and his good humour brought out her softer side.”

“He is not titled.”  Harding pointed out.

Darcy shrugged, “Neither am I, but she surely would not have said no if I had asked.  She will be mistress of a great estate one day.” 

“True.  So Lord and Lady Matlock are pleased?”

“Of course, and they will marry in Town in June so we will be attending.  Elizabeth and I will travel to London in a fortnight to be with Georgiana at Easter and enjoy the Season.  I want to dance with my wife, and show her the places in London I love.  At last.”  He smiled happily.

“And the baby will remain here?”

“No.  Since Elizabeth has defied everyone by putting him to her breast, he will come with us as will our nurse.  I will not have her tied down to feedings.  We have earned this honeymoon and we will take it.”  He said definitely.

“Darcy!”  Samuel laughed.  “I daresay you will be married a decade and you will still be bemoaning your lack of a honeymoon!”  

“If he is married a decade and still considers himself newlywed, Son, then he is a ridiculously happy man and you should be jealous of him.”  Harding smiled as Darcy’s cheeks coloured.  “I have a feeling you will be.” 

“If I find the right girl . . . perhaps I can be as happy,” Samuel smiled, “in a few years, that is.”

“Notice how quickly he corrects you.”  Recovering from his embarrassment, Darcy pointed his glass at his cousin.  “Well, I hope that you
are
jealous.”

“How is Georgiana?”

Darcy became thoughtful.  “She is enjoying her lessons and is well.  Mrs. Annesley writes that she is uncomfortable around her peers.  Although she did not elaborate, Elizabeth suspects that it is because Georgiana’s eyes are wide open.  She cannot giggle and gossip about men, she cannot wonder about . . . the things girls wonder about.”

“I imagine that they are not unlike the things that young men wonder about.”  Harding glanced at his son.

“Damn Wickham.”  Samuel took a drink of his wine and went to stand at the window. 

“I learned where he is.”  Darcy did not offer more and the men remained silent for a few moments before he continued, “We have, thus far, managed to save her.  However hard it is to maintain her appearance of ignorance, I do believe that it is good for her to be in London.  She is not only furthering her education, but she is interacting with people from the greater world.  She needs that experience.  We all do.”

“So my suggesting that she come home is unnecessary?”  Harding sighed.

Darcy nodded, “I think so.  I can imagine Georgiana being reticent even if none of this had happened.  We do share similar traits.  I have a very small circle of friends who know my true nature; I can see her being the same as she matures.” 

“Is she happy, Darcy?  That is my question.”  Samuel asked seriously.