Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (27 page)

“Ah, a proud one.”  He said knowingly, “This one has a sister who was bit by the serpent and has a full belly.”  Mr. Gardiner’s brow creased.  “The cur was standing just where you are not a week ago.  He seemed to be asking for money and a cousin of the girl was telling him to keep his nose clean and out of their way, or he’ll meet the business end of a sword.”  He crossed his arms.  “A colonel he was when I first met him, but retired now, it seems.  Maybe he found a proper girl to marry of his own.  Good for him, I say.  Not a great supporter of a standing army, myself.  Don’t get me wrong, if Bony appears on the shoreline, I want someone who is a good shot taking him out, but I stand by the Navy taking care of the ships before they ever get here.”

Mr. Gardiner nodded.  “Did you catch the colonel’s name?”

“No, but I liked him.”  Leaning forward, he tapped the counter with a grin.  “He had a snuff box that would offend any lady.  In the shape of a leg, with ruby garters!” 

Laughing, Mr. Gardiner picked up his purchase.  “I can just imagine a soldier being proud of that!  What happened to the cur?”

“Pissed himself!” 

“Well done!”  Opening the door, the bell jangled as he lifted his hand and waved.  His smile left his face while he walked thoughtfully home.  “Darcy . . . no, that is
not
a common name.  And Lizzy mentioned that his cousin the colonel had decided to retire . . . I pray that this sister is not Mr. Darcy’s, but . . . a great many things would make sense if it were.”  Nodding sadly, he thought of the proud, desperate young man who once flew to his house in search of Elizabeth.  “And this explains why Lizzy chose to say her goodbyes to her father when she did.  And why she is not there now, despite their falling out.”

Walking up the steps to his home, he could hear his daughters giggling behind the door. 
Darcy is doing everything he can to protect his sister, and he chose Lizzy to help him.
  Opening the door, he was accosted by his girls and he dropped to his knee to hug them. 
My admiration for you grows, sir
.

 

23 APRIL 1812

Netherfield

 

Dear Lizzy,

Please, please forgive me!  I have never been such a poor correspondent before, I am just so very busy.  But my neglect pains me even more when I remember how you took the time to write to me after your wedding and I was so stupid not to respond because I thought that I would be bothering you!  What a cotton-headed fool I was!  Has marriage opened my eyes, do you think?   

I am very happy with Charles.  He is kind and so sweet, but he is different, too.  Maybe it is being on our own in this vast house that is changing us.  He says that he has never lived by himself before.  I mean, I am here, but with no other relatives about.  He tells me that it is quite an undertaking to find out just what sort of a man he is under his fine coat.  Now that we have been married a month, he is beginning to take greater interest in the neighbourhood and spends his time while I am away meeting the other gentlemen of the area..  There is already talk of making him the magistrate in place of Reverend Pierson as he is getting on, but he has declined, pointing out that he does not own Netherfield.  But that does not stop them.  I am glad he does not take the suggestion seriously.  He is so kind and easy that I am afraid he would never do well as a judge.  I can see him being like Solomon and wanting to divide everything equally.

I am not at all used to living in Netherfield.  I still feel as if I must be very careful when I touch things.  I am very happy to be addressed as Mrs. Bingley.  It is like a dream, Lizzy.  I pray that you are as happy as I?

Of course, I do spend much of my time at Longbourn, still.  I envy you your honeymoon.  It must be lovely to wake each day, free from worry, and able to enjoy yet another new home. 

Mama is still very much herself, talking and talking away while Papa lies on the bed we installed in his bookroom and listens. I come in to spell her and Papa seems happy for a moment of peace.  I think that you know what I mean?  He asks sometimes about you, and only yesterday, he said that he does not expect you will wear mourning for him, being so far away from the neighbourhood and busy with your travels.  Of course I shushed him for speaking so negatively about his future and I was glad to see his old familiar smile appear.

Kitty and Lydia seem to spend more time visiting than at home, so most of the work falls to me.  Kitty is always at Lucas Lodge. Did you know that Charlotte is engaged to Uncle Philips’ clerk Mr. Pool?   And Lydia is forever with Mrs. Forster.  Mama does not like it one bit, she thinks that they should be at home, tending to her, but I am glad to sit with her.  She keeps saying that her greatest joy will be when she comes to live at Netherfield with us after Papa dies.  Charles heard it one time and he pulled me aside and said quite clearly in a tone I have never heard before that under no circumstances would Mama be coming to live with us.  He would give up his lease and find some other place.  I was quite shocked, but after some thought, I remembered Mr. Darcy’s advice to her, that she is the revered teacher, and she could not possibly leave Longbourn.  It is only recently that I have come to understand and admire all of the good advice that he gave to all of us. 

I must close, dear sister.  It is nearly time to feed Papa his porridge.  I hope that you are happy and well.  Please give our fondest regards to Mr. Darcy.

Love,

Jane

 

Elizabeth folded her sister’s letter and set it down on the table next to her plate, then clasped her hands in her lap. 
Whether or not it was your goal to make me feel guilt for abandoning my family, Jane, you have succeeded  I suppose that our conversation at Longbourn has been forgotten.

“How is Jane?”  Darcy asked softly, reaching over to take one of her hands.  “I would ask to read her letter, but I imagine that it is chock full of glowing descriptions of my good friend Bingley’s attributes, and I would rather not delve into that sort of news.”  

“No, I can certainly understand why.”  She said quietly and gave his hand a squeeze.  She sighed and pushed her plate away.  “I am not hungry.” 

“It is good . . .” Georgiana offered.

“I am certain that it is, I simply do not want it.” 

“Come, one bite?”  Darcy held up his fork and smiled teasingly. 

Elizabeth shook her head.  “Shall we go riding today?  I would love to walk on the beach.”  Looking to the window she smiled determinedly.  “Sunshine.  I am certain that this is some fluke of nature.  We must enjoy it while we can.” 

“Riding?”  Darcy cleared his throat.  “Oh, no, I have too much work to do.  And you know that when Richard appears there will be nothing accomplished at all.”

She frowned.  “We have not gone riding for weeks!  What sort of work takes your time?” 

“I received a letter from Gladney . . .”


Richard’s
home.”

“Well . . . yes.”  His brow furrowed when her voice became sharp.

“And you are looking after it?  Is not Richard a grown man?  Is he not a colonel who has waged battle with many enemies?”

“Yes, of course, but he has had no experience in managing an estate.”

“And he will never acquire it if you do not let him try.”  She closed her eyes, and crossed her arms.  “Do you not wish to go riding with me?”

“I have work to do for Longbourn as well.”  Elizabeth pushed back her chair and stood.  Instantly he followed her.  “Lizzy?  We . . . could take the carriage . . .”

“I thought that you had work to do?”  She snatched up her letter and spinning away, she nodded at Georgiana.  “Excuse me.”  Sending a look to Darcy she exited the room. 

Darcy set down his napkin and went after her.  She was already donning her bonnet when he arrived.  “Lizzy, where are you going?”

“I need to walk.”  She quickly tied a bow and went to the door.  “Since I cannot ride.” 

He looked at the crumpled parchment in her hand and pointed, “What was in that letter?” 

“Nothing was in the letter.  Nothing of substance, just a lot of poorly hidden emotions and duties that she is experiencing and I am not.”  She stepped outside.  “I will avoid the river, you need not worry.” 

Licking his lips, he searched for something to say, “How long  . . .”

“I do not know.  All day, perhaps.”

“Lizzy, stay.  Tell me about the letter.”  She shook her head and he watched her stride away as fast and as hard as she could.  Banging his fist on the doorframe, he swore.  “Damn!”

 

“HERE, LET ME HELP YOU.”  Darcy held Georgiana’s hands as she eased down onto a sofa.  “Would you like a pillow for your back?” 

“Yes, thank you.”  She watched him test out several possibilities and judging one firm enough, he placed it behind her. 

“Are your feet sore?” 

“A bit.”  She watched as he sat at the opposite end of the sofa and removing her slippers, began rubbing vigorously.  Biting her lip, she laughed when he looked up questioningly.  “Are you trying to start a fire, Fitzwilliam?”  He sighed and she reassured him, “It feels good.  I just think that you are better suited to rubbing Elizabeth’s feet instead of taking out your worry on mine.” 

“I apologize if I am too rough . . . I would probably give in to temptation and tickle her.”  He smiled slightly and was a little gentler with his rubbing.  “Does anything else hurt?”

“My back, but this pillow helps a great deal.  I am just so sleepy all of the time, and muddle-headed, and weepy.”  Georgiana shrugged.  “I certainly know that I do not want to experience this again for some time.” 

“Well, that is something worthwhile.”  Darcy murmured.  “May I ask, I . . . I was not with you when this began . . . what were the early days like?” 

She held back her surprise with his questions, but he looked so worried that she tried to answer as honestly as she could.  “I was tired, but it was a different sort of tired.  Now it is because I am uncomfortable.  Then it was . . . I do not know.  I was not eating very well, and I was ill quite a lot.  I cried all of the time, and I was angry, but . . . I had reason to feel so much.” 

“Yes.”  He nodded, concentrating on her feet.  “When did it begin?”

“I hardly know . . . I guess that thinking back . . .  Do you remember bringing me to Pemberley?”

“Vividly.”

“I was so sick then.”  Darcy looked up sharply.  “And I had been for a few weeks before that . . .”

“Did Wickham know?” 

Confused, she looked away.  “I . . . I do not know if he noticed.  It was a difficult time.” 

Darcy’s brow creased and he wondered if Wickham might have suspected something, and if that might have helped with his decision to expose his location.  “Was this . . . about the time that he was selling your things, trying to raise funds?” 

“Yes.”  He squeezed her feet and she cried out.  “Ow!”

“I am sorry, I am sorry.”  He rubbed them vigorously again as he continued to wonder. 
Was he seeking funds to try and prepare to be the child’s father or to wring as much money out of Georgiana as he could before sending her away?
  Their eyes met again, and attempting to smile, he patted her feet.  “Better?”

“Yes, they are very warm.”  Georgiana watched him rise and go to stand at the window.  “Fitzwilliam, what is wrong?”

“Nothing, dear.”  He sighed and cleared his throat.  “I was . . . being foolish, thinking about things that do not matter anymore.”

“Oh.  I . . . I thought that you were wondering what a lady might feel when she is with child.”  Seeing his surprise, she blushed.  “I thought that you might be wondering if Elizabeth was.”

Immediately, she had his focussed attention.  “Do you think that she is?  Has she said anything?”

“No.”  Georgiana laughed.  “Not a peep.  I just heard the argument you had this morning when she suggested that you go riding and you thought of such poor excuses not to go.  She was so angry with you!”

Sighing, he leaned against the window frame.  “I know, I know . . .  Her voice is ringing in my ears.”

“And that is why she is marching across the fields.  Why did you not go after her?” 

Glancing out the window, he spotted Elizabeth standing uncertainly near the stable.  “Sometimes you just need to be alone with your thoughts, even if that loneliness was foisted upon you.”  Straightening, he walked across the room to the door.  “And then . . . it is time to come home again.”  He smiled a little and went out to the hallway, where Parker seemed entirely too prepared to help him into his coat and hat.  “Thank you.”

“Not at all, sir.”  He brushed off an imaginary speck of dust and closed the door behind him.  “Now sir, think before you speak.”

 

“OH!”  ELIZABETH CRIED when he arrived and again refused her request to go riding.  “You are the most frustrating man I have ever known!”  She waved her hand at the stable.  “How many times have I been subjected to your dictates about how the Mistress of Pemberley rides?  How many longing, wistful stories have you told me about wanting to take me over the estate and show me every nook and cranny, but it must be done on horseback?  How many times have you challenged me to race?”  She glared at him.  “I have suffered with your riding lessons, my bottom is finally not sore . . .”

“Elizabeth!”  Darcy stared and hissed as he stepped up to her, “We do
not
speak of your bottom in public!” 

“What public?”  She spun around, missing the gathering of men at the stable door.  “Besides, that is not the point!  I finally,
finally
feel confident enough to actually
ask
you to come out with me and you say no!  What better things do you have planned for us to do?”  Crossing her arms, she glared.  “Oh, I forgot, you planned another day of letter writing, perhaps followed by hiding somewhere on the estate with Mr. Ferguson?  I have the distinct impression that you are avoiding me, sir.”

“Lizzy, do not be ridiculous.” He scoffed.“There is work to be done.”

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