Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (58 page)

Shyness overcame her and she became just as flustered, “Oh my, well . . .   I am glad that I have learned of seemingly effective means of hindering pregnancy.”  Elizabeth bit her lip and seeing his creased brow she laughed.  “Fitzwilliam, I want to share your fantasies as much as you do, but I would rather not have thirty children in the process!” 

“You want me as much as I want you?”

“Well that is a foolish question!  I do not recall ever rebuffing your advances, do you?  Have I not instigated our play as well?” 

“Yes.”  His face lit up with a great smile.  “Did you dream about me?  When we first began to know each other?”

“You were rarely far from my thoughts, but I did not really understand what I wanted.”  She blushed and looked down at their clasped hands.

He stroked a finger down her throat.  “Did your loins ache for me?  Did you wish to feel us joined together . . .?”

“I blamed it on my intense dislike of you.” 

Darcy threw his head back and laughed.  “Well, I can accept that.  Both are passionate.”  Their eyes glowed and he hugged her closely.  “I love you.”

“I love you, dear man.”  They kissed and she snuggled back into his arms. “So this is what it is like to be married.” 

“Have we not been married for almost eight months?”  He whispered.

“Not without some terrible drama occupying our every thought or directing our activity.”  She looked up at him.  “Everything now is just what it should have been, ages ago.”

“Do you like it?” 

“I know that more days than not will be spent as we did our morning, separated and working on our responsibilities, but I believe that our reunions will always be sweet, even if it is just . . . reading our letters together, or falling asleep with no more than a kiss goodnight.” 

Darcy smiled and nodded, then lifting his head, grinned with a twinkle in his eye.  “Will we be dressed?”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy!” 

“The question begged to be asked!” 

“By whom?”  She demanded.

“The interested parties!”  She whacked him and immediately he started tickling her until they fell over onto the blanket.  Darcy touched his forehead to hers, “And I am
very
interested.” 

“You have changed so much, Will.” 

Darcy relaxed his grip and hugged her.  “Have I?  I cannot remember so much of who I once was.  I suppose that I will have to rely upon old acquaintances to tell me if I have really changed, or if this is all for you alone.”  He kissed her and smiled.  “I suspect that I am the same at heart, and you just have shown me how to be myself.”  Elizabeth’s eyes began to shine and she blinked.  Caressing her hair he searched her face, “Sweetheart, what did I say?”

Resting her ear over his heart, she hugged him.  “Something wonderful.”

Chapter 22

“E
lizabeth . . .” Darcy laughed.  “You are going to have to open it sometime.  Surely you are not afraid of Aunt Catherine!  How many times have you stood up to her?  She calls you Niece, for heaven’s sake!” 

“I am not afraid of anything!”  She said defiantly.  “I am just . . . appropriately cautious.” 

“mmhmm.” 

“Why would she write to me, after all?”

“If you would break the seal, your question would be answered, would it not?”  He looked over to her from his comfortable seat beneath the portico just beyond the breakfast room.  Folding his paper, he set it down and held out his hand.  Elizabeth placed the letter in his palm.  “You were just waiting for me to ask?”

“It took you long enough to puzzle that out.” 

“You know, there is some merit in simply telling me what you want rather than leaving me to read your thoughts.”

 “I am sure that there is, however, I look forward to the day when your skills in discernment are honed.”

“As I do for you.”  He murmured as he examined the letter in his hands.  Looking up, he grinned at her gaping mouth.  “Then again, you may not always care to know what I am thinking, love.” 

“I think that you had better read your letter, Mr. Darcy.”

“Your letter, is it not?”  His lips twitched and he broke the seal.  “Let us see.”  He scanned the page.   “Anne and Albert are getting along tolerably well.  He is still prone to fits of despondency . . .” He looked up, “She has the laudanum under lock and key.”

“That is probably wise.”

“She recommends the same to you.”  His smile at her rolling eyes changed to a frown as he read on.  “She suggests that as Uncle Harding has a proven taste for the substance that I am likely to develop one as well.   A prudent wife should take charge of all medications and dole them out only as necessary to family and staff alike.”  Darcy spoke incredulously, “She treats medication like the tea leaves and chocolate you lock up in the dining room.”

“Can you imagine a poor maid having to beg Lady Catherine for a dose of laudanum when she has a bad head?”  Elizabeth sighed.

“Likely brought on by the dowager, herself?”  He coughed when she laughed.  “Poor thing.” 

“I wonder how she heard of Uncle Harding’s problems with it?”

“I imagine Mother told her.”  Darcy said softly and reading on, sat up.  “Ohhh, here we go.”

“What is it?”  Elizabeth moved his paper aside and slid next to him to look over his shoulder.  Darcy held the pages to his chest and looked down at her with one eyebrow cocked.  “Oh, hush.  Read!”

“Which is it to be, then?”

“Fitzwilliam!” 

Clearing his throat, he chuckled.  “Aunt has been interviewing candidates to take Mr. Collins’s position.  A reverend came last week, accompanied by his young wife.”

“He is married?  He has a living already?” 

“He is a curate, but his father was hoping to hold the living on the estate for him.  Something happened and he is looking for something far from home . . . sounds like a falling out.”

“It does not sound good, whatever it is.” 

“No.”  He read on.  “The wife was properly demure and dressed modestly, except for one thing that caught Aunt’s eye.  A ring, the woman’s wedding ring.”  He shook his head and spoke almost to himself, “Damn it.”

“Will?”

“Aunt is positive it belonged to Mother.” He waved his hand at the letter.  “From the description, I am as well.   I gave it to Georgiana on her fifteenth birthday, just before she left for Ramsgate.”  He closed his eyes. 

Elizabeth wrapped her hand around his arm and spoke softly, “I suppose this is one of the things that Wickham sold . . .”

“I suppose so.” 

“What should be done?  It was not stolen, but it is an heirloom . . .”

“Dearest, I am hardly going to rip this woman’s wedding band from her finger.  Her husband was probably thrilled to find her such a beautiful ring at a bargain price.  And it is surely treasured by them both. Clearly it was meaningless to my sister.”  He cleared his throat and moderated the bitterness from his voice.  “Leave it be.” 

“I am proud of you.”  Elizabeth smiled and he entwined their fingers to rub his thumb over her ring. 

“I see no reason to retrieve it.”  Returning to the letter he nodded.  “Aunt says that she questioned the girl extensively on the ring . . . I can only imagine what that entailed . . . but she only gave seemingly honest replies, as did her husband.  She still believes it to be Mother’s ring and asks that you investigate.  Also, she directs you, Mrs. Darcy, to be wary of your servants as you likely have a thief in your household.  She recommends that a system similar to the one to lock away the laudanum be applied to your jewels.”   Darcy let the letter fall to the ground and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her tighter to his side.  “So that was the terrible letter.”

“She was trying to be useful, I think.” 

“Of course she was.  Perhaps she could travel to Longbourn?  Such advice she could give!  And you know that Mr. Collins would bend over backwards to heed her!”  Darcy smiled when Elizabeth giggled into his waistcoat.   Resting his head against the back of the chair, he looked up at the Wisteria vine twisting over the arbour.  “There was one more thing.”

“Oh?”  Elizabeth tilted her head, trying to see the fallen pages.

“She demands that you exercise your clearly proven wiles upon me.”

“My
wiles
?” 

He returned his gaze to her eyes. “She did witness a kiss in the snow.”

“Ohhhhh.” She smiled and holding his face, tenderly traced her tongue over his lips.  “Like this?”

“Mmmm.”  Darcy tried to draw her closer, but she remained stiffly in place.  “Lizzy . . . come here . . .”  He urged.

“Why is she meddling with my wiles?”

“Maybe because she wishes she had some of her own?”  He suggested with a smile and sighed with Elizabeth’s refusal to play along.  “She says you are to convince me to come to Rosings and examine the books, she is concerned about the way Albert is spending the money.”

“It is his money to spend, is it not?”

“Yes, it is.  While I understand Aunt’s concern, it really is not her business anymore.  I think, I hope, this is just a woman used to being in charge unhappy with her lot.  Rather like your mother.”

“She married off her daughter and now her son-in-law is in charge.”  Elizabeth said thoughtfully.  “I wonder if Aunt Catherine would appreciate the comparison.”

“Do you really wonder at that, dearest?”  Darcy smiled and played with her hair.

She smiled.  “No, not really, but . . .”  Her brow creased.  “It is not happening again, is it?  I thought that with Anne by his side he surely is not gambling.  He is in Kent . . . I mean, Brighton is not far away, but I cannot imagine them trusting him with any excuse to go visit friends or . . . Oh, my.”

“I have to agree with you, dear.  Anne has him now.  She will not let go.”

“Do you feel that she loves him . . .?”

“Oh, no!”  His eyes widened.  “Love?  Fond, perhaps . . . I am the wrong man to ask.  I can only draw on the looks she sent to me.”  He shuddered.  “What a fate that would have been.” 

“She wanted you.”  Elizabeth whispered wickedly.  Darcy shot her a look.  “She thought about you unclothed.  She wondered what lurked beneath that tightly buttoned coat and your well-tailored breeches.”

“Elizabeth.”

“She thought about coming to your rooms . . .”

“Elizabeth . . .”

Tiptoeing her fingers down his chest she tapped over the fall of his breeches.  “Every night . . .” 

Darcy struggled to push her away.   “Enough!  Do you wish to give me nightmares?”

“I apologize.”  

“I do not believe you.”  He muttered while watching her hand moving between his legs and over his thighs.  “Scaring me to death like that, after I kindly read you that letter . . .”

“How can I make it up to you?”  Her hand moved back up and over him.  Feeling something jump under her palm she held his eyes.  “Was that an answer?”

The sound of maids clearing away the breakfast things stopped her caress and she bent to retrieve the letter and sit up beside him.  She primly smoothed her skirt and touched her hair before holding up the pages to read.  Darcy sat staring at her.  Elizabeth made a point of not looking at him, but could not ignore the rather prominent mast rising from his lap. 

“
Put that away
.”  She hissed.

“And how precisely do you propose I manage that?” 

“I am certain that every flourish you have ever experienced has not been gratified by a woman’s touch.  You know what is to be done.”

“Well, I could take care of it with
my
touch.  It has been a long time, but I am willing to have a go at it  . . .”

“Fitzwilliam!”   She gasped and looked at the door.

“I am jesting, Lizzy.”  He closed his eyes.  “Read your letter and I will endeavour not to think of your ruby lips and tender kiss.” 

Elizabeth looked at him and smiling at the thought, she read Lady Catherine’s letter.  It was all there, everything that was mentioned except for one item.  “Oh Will, she really does expect us to come.  She said that you looked after the books at Rosings for all of those years after your father died.  She does not trust her brother’s advice because he nearly destroyed Matlock by not controlling Albert, and Richard may eventually be the heir, but he has no experience at all.  So it falls to you to solve her problems and she demands your presence immediately.  This is more than expressing a little concern and asking for a visit.  Did you read that part?”

“Of course I did.”  He said softly.  His eyes were still closed.  “I read it and dropped the letter to the ground.  If we had been near a fireplace I would have burned it.”  Not hearing a reply, he looked at her.  “I will not be ordered about by my aunt.  We are finally home, Georgiana will be back in days and you and I both know that she is very fragile.  She will finally be separated from Hope and Mrs. Annesley is not yet in her life.  We cannot drop everything because Aunt is not willing to believe in Albert.  We are staying home.  We need and deserve to be home.” 

“I agree, but why would you not want to tell me of her wishes?  I have to respond to them.” 

“I guess that I was feeling contrite about laughing at your hesitation to open her letter.”  He shrugged when her eyebrows rose.  “I know, I know.  There are just certain letters you know that you do not wish to open.  But you must.”  He fell into thoughts of Wickham and started when he heard Elizabeth’s voice.

“But you do not have to respond to them as the writer demands.”

“That is true.  I certainly have done that very thing.”  Darcy slipped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close to his side.  Again the letter dropped to the ground.  “Now, I have a response to your teasing that I would enjoy having addressed . . .”

“Do you?”  Caressing her hand over his thigh she smiled into his eyes.  “Shall we take a walk?”

“Where?”  He asked and kissed her softly.

“Somewhere private.  Surely we can find a corner somewhere on this tiny property?  Perhaps behind a bush or a hillock?”  Elizabeth stood and held out her hand.  Darcy took it and while rising, picked up the letter and put it into a pocket in his coat.  “You are keeping it?”

“I thought we could fold the pages into boats and watch them sail about the lake from a pleasant spot I know.  A very private spot.  A very comfortable, very pleasant, very private spot.”  Tucking her hand over his arm, he smiled with the delighted grin she wore.  “Let’s go.”