Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (65 page)

“That is not what I meant.  Forget I mentioned it.”

“No, something is on your mind.  What is it?” 

Richard shrugged indifferently, “You two just seem so bonded with each other, it shows.  I am not able to describe what I see, but . . . what I have seen is . . .” He sat forward and cried, “Lord, you glance at her and it says volumes.  You stare and I think I should clear all obstacles from the doorway lest you scoop her up and carry her upstairs!”  Darcy’s face coloured.  “You know what I mean.  You talk; you flirt, even when you argue . . .”

“Richard, we love each other.”

“Does she ever annoy you?”

“Of course.”  Darcy laughed.  “And I infuriate her.” 

“But you tell her that you love her.”  He muttered at his neck cloth.

“Yes.  It amazes me sometimes.  I grew up not hearing those words very often.”  Richard looked up quickly.   “It was after Father died, when I was trying so hard to reassure Georgiana, that I began saying it.  Perhaps it was Aunt Susan trying to reassure me that started it.  I felt comforted.  In any case, when I began to say it out loud it became not so strange.  It was not easy to say it to Elizabeth at first, because I was not sure that it was reciprocated and I did not wish to be hurt, but . . . one day I said it and she said it in return.  And now . . . now it means so much more than saying the words.”

“When the devil did you become so damned glib?”  Richard demanded.  “You could not speak a sentence of such emotion without stuttering through it!  What happened to you?” 

Darcy laughed enough to need his handkerchief to wipe his eyes.  “I really must tell Elizabeth that, she will be delighted!  How many times has she begged me to think before I speak?”  Dabbing his eyes again, he put his handkerchief away and leaned forward on the desk.  “Come, out with it.  What is on your mind?  You came all the way to Pemberley for more than having that settlement prepared and to speak of my love affair with my wife.”

“Well . . .” Richard rubbed his nose and looked out of the window.  “I have been with many a woman . . .” Darcy coughed and his cousin blushed.  “Yes, well . . .  I have.  But I have never . . . been with a . . .” He closed his eyes.  “Forget it.”

“A woman you loved?”  Darcy asked delicately. Richard nodded and kept his eyes directed outside.  “What do you fear?  Do you think that on your wedding night you will come to her and treat her like every courtesan or maid you ever bedded?”

“I am afraid that I will terrify her by being a brute.  I do not want to be that way with her.”

“Were you with the others?”

“No, of course not, but those women knew their business, they were hardly innocents, if anything, they were more eager than I.  Finish me off so they could catch another fly with their honey pots before the sun came up.” 

Darcy picked up his pen and spoke seriously as he watched the feather twirl.  “Do you think of Sophie that way?  Is that the way you would describe her?” 

Richard watched the feather with him.  “No, and I would kill anyone who dared say such a thing of her.  I . . . I am in awe of her.” 

Darcy smiled with no small amount of relief.  “You will do.”

Richard met his gaze.   “I will?”

“If you are as nervous on your wedding night as you are sitting across from me right now, I have no doubt that my cousin the colonel will be as tender as a lamb with her.”  Darcy winked.  “And that glass of wine you offer to calm her fears will be necessary for you, too.” 

“Are you speaking from experience?”  Richard demanded when he just smiled.  “I have a difficult time speaking of love.”

“I cannot possibly imagine why.” 

“Darcy, I am attempting to be serious.”

“Just show her.  She is, as you say, an older, mature woman who is more comfortable with men.  Who better to tame you?  And this feeling you have will extend beyond the bedchamber, from what I have observed, it already does exist for both of you, even if you do not understand what you feel.” 

Richard’s cheeks became redder and he nodded shortly.  “I need a ring.”

“There is bound to be one or two around Matlock somewhere that your mother is not using?”

“Right.”  He sniffed and looked down at his hands.  “Right.”

“I have a great deal of faith in you.”  Their eyes met.  “Thank you for supporting me over this . . . seemingly endless nightmare.” 

“I could not have done as well as you.  I would have found her a husband, paid him off, and had her live with the consequences.  That would have been the end of it.”

“Would it?”  Darcy said softly, “I am still angry, but I could not have left her to that sort of fate.”

“That is the difference, Darcy.  I would have seen it as mercy.”

“Rather than casting her out?  Both would have killed me.”  Darcy’s head shook and then he pointed at his cousin, “Tell me, how many of these girls you have bedded over the years were just like Georgiana?  How many of them had babies hidden in baskets while they worked a corner to lure you to an alley for a quick screw for a pence or two?  How many lay with you to keep body and soul alive?”  He spoke bitterly, “Women are treated as chattel, otherwise they would not be so vulnerable to the desires of men.”

“Darcy . . . look I admit I am no . . . yes, I am certain that I took advantage of just the sort of girl you speak about, and yes I do consider the plan to marry off Georgiana rather than to endure the . . . first scheme that you hatched and I still regard as insane, to be merciful.  What you have seemingly achieved with keeping this secret is a miracle, but in the end, you are left with the same situation, will she be married to a man who wants her or your money?  A woman’s greatest possession is her purity and hers is gone.”

“And Sophie is giving you hers.” 

“I know that.”  Richard said sharply.

“So you damn well better treasure it.”  Darcy growled.  “And you damn well better make her know that you do.  If you cannot say the words, show her.” 

“I will.”  Richard studied him.  “Are you angry with my past?”

“No.  It is common, you were not expecting to ever marry, and I certainly had the opportunity to indulge in it.  I will be angry if you ever indulge in that behaviour again.  If I ever hear of you going outside of your marriage . . .”

Richard jumped to his feet.  “I have not so much as looked at another since meeting Sophie!”

Darcy stood and leaned his palms upon the desk, “Looking, I can bear.  Touch, and I will throttle you.”

“She has four brothers and a father to do any throttling, should it be necessary, and I promise you it will not.   Have
you
been tempted?”

“No!”

“Then why do you suppose that I will?”  Richard demanded, “What the devil is wrong with you?  You have all of the earmarks of a guilty man on you.  I cannot in my wildest dreams believe it is possible given our conversation, but you are behaving like a savage!  Are you certain that you were not tempted?” 

“No.”  Darcy closed his eyes.  “No.  Never.” 

“Then what is eating at you?” 

“Nothing, as you said, I did not choose the easy route.  I am afraid that it takes time to heal a broken heart.”   

“I pray that I never experience one.”  Richard watched him closely as Darcy’s shoulders drooped.  “Come on, out with it.  We are brothers, and as much as you love Elizabeth, I know there are things that you do not, cannot share with her.  I will be gone in the morning.  For God’s sake, lance this boil.”

Darcy picked up his pen and then threw it back down onto the desk.  “Elizabeth has begged me to let this go.  She asked me if it does any good to me, to us, to Pemberley to pursue it.”

“She knows what it is?”

“No.”  Darcy ran his hand through his hair and glanced at his cousin.  “Forgive me.”

“You are clutching neither your heart, nor a weapon.  I will consider forgiveness after you speak.”  Richard smiled a little and Darcy nodded and looked down at the floor.  “Come on, then.  What set you off?  Georgiana?  Talking of my experience?”

“Wickham suddenly appeared before me.” 

“I see.”  Richard squeezed the back of his chair and waited.

“I recently came across a letter from Father, it does not matter what was said . . . he wrote it for different reasons than . . . he could not have ever imagined that when I read it, the man he was writing about had impregnated his little girl.”  Darcy breathed and let out a long sigh.  “Fine, I will say it out loud.  I am sure that there is a connection between Uncle Harding and Wickham.  I saw it.”  He waved his hand across the room.  “Clear as day, Wickham and my uncle, staring at each other, like caged dogs waiting to see who would strike.  And both backed down.  I have had a sick feeling about this since the accident.”  He looked back to Richard and studied his face.  “You look as if you are going into battle.”

“I am contemplating what is ripping at your soul.” 

From the hallway, the muffled sound of the pianoforte could be heard.  Darcy’s head swivelled towards the door and Richard quickly strode over and opened it wide.  “That is Georgiana playing.”  Darcy said softly.  “Her touch is so different from Elizabeth’s.”  A voice was added to the song.

“Elizabeth is singing again.”  Richard noted.  “She is happy.”

“She is joyful.  She is such a pleasure, Richard.  Over the last weeks since we returned, we have enjoyed such happiness together.   It has been . . . I have
never
been so happy.”

“Then why are you dwelling on an old letter and unsubstantiated speculation?  I cannot stand to see you in this room in such turmoil when all you have to do is walk down the hallway and into that woman’s arms.  I have nothing to tell you.  If you wish to interrogate your uncle when he returns with Hope in
his
arms, then so be it.  But I think that you would rather spend your time kissing that beautiful woman who is singing love songs to you right now.” 

“You once said that she was pretty.”  Darcy said softly.

Richard smiled and came over to clasp his shoulder, “I said that she was beautiful when she looks at you.” 

“Well, that is all of the time.  She cannot take her eyes off me.”  Darcy smiled crookedly and drawing a breath, he nodded with Richard’s snort.  “I burned that letter of Father’s.”

“Did you?  So why are you trying to resurrect it now?  It sounds to me that you let this all go then.  What is it about my pleasant face that drives you to dig up the dead?” 

“So I am a grave robber now?” 

“Disgusting.”

“Your face?  I agree.”  Darcy smiled at Richard’s glare.  “I . . . you are the one person I can speak to about this, you . . .” He shrugged.

“Ah, there is the man I know, at a loss for words.  Your tongue is tied with sentiment for me.  How touching.” 

“Quiet.”  He closed his eyes and then met Richard’s.  “Very well then.  I will take my own advice, and my lovely wife’s.”  Darcy lifted his finger and poked him in the chest.  “I have observed you staring at Uncle.  I have heard derision in your voice.  I suggest that you let it go, too.”  Walking to the doorway, he strode out without a backwards glance and headed for the ballroom, leaving his dumbfounded cousin in his wake. 

 

“I HAVE NEVER SEEN him so happy.  Aunt Susan said that things might be different here, but I hardly expected . . .”

“Fitzwilliam to come charging into the ballroom and grabbing my hand to dance?”  She laughed and settled on the stool before her dressing table.  “No I did not expect that either, but it was wonderful.”  Elizabeth smiled.  “It is so good to see him trying so hard.”

“Trying?”

“I believe some of his giddiness can be explained as relief, and I imagine it will settle at some point, but hopefully not too much.  I remember when we were first together, to see his lips lift a fraction was a triumph.  And now he beams.”  Elizabeth placed her hand over her heart. “Can you imagine the ladies in a ballroom swooning at such a sight?  Oh my!” 

“He is my brother, I really have not thought of him that way.”

“I would think not, but you do agree that he is handsome?”   She looked at Georgiana fiercely.

“Yes.”  She giggled.  “Yes, Fitzwilliam is a handsome man.” 

“Good, I am glad that is settled.” 

“He resembles Samuel.”

Elizabeth smiled, “I think you have that backwards.   Samuel is a very dear man and will make a wonderful husband to a lucky girl one day.”

“He still would not marry me.”  Georgiana looked down at her hands.

“That is something I admire in the Darcy men, they are quite steadfast in their beliefs.  He made up his mind and he has stuck to it.”

“I thought that was stubbornness.”

“No, this is different.  Your brother
is
stubborn as a mule.  For example, he told me outright that he would not tolerate the Mistress of Pemberley not learning how to ride.  As much as I feared it, I learned, entirely because of him making me do it.  And he was very persuasive, even if he laughed at me a great deal.”  She smiled and Georgiana laughed.  “But he is steadfast because he determined that he would do his best to save you no matter how hard others tried to dissuade him.”  Elizabeth tilted her head and watched Georgiana’s bow down.  “So, Samuel has made a decision regarding you, for whatever reason, and he is sticking to it.  Why would it matter now?”

“Because he is a good man and I am afraid that no good man will want me.”

“Well, why do we not worry about that when you are five and twenty instead of sixteen, hmm?”  She raised her brows and Georgiana nodded.  “Besides, I suspect that Samuel feels he needs to be a good provider before taking on a wife.”

“He is so pleased with his position with Mr. Mayfield.”

“Good.” Elizabeth reached for her jewel box and opened the lid.  Georgiana watched as she removed boxes and bags. 

“Is it true that Fitzwilliam is buying the practice for him?”

“That is none of your business, is it not?”  Elizabeth murmured.

 “No, of course not.”  Georgiana blushed.  “What are you looking for?”

“A ring.  Your Aunt Catherine described it in a letter, actually she said that she had seen a similar one and implied that this one had been stolen.”

“From you?”  Georgiana gasped. “But how?  A servant?”

Other books

Beloved Imposter by Patricia Potter
Second Time Around by Carol Steward
Red Snow by Michael Slade
Learning the Hard Way by Mathews, B.J.
Drink for the Thirst to Come by Lawrence Santoro
Future Shock by Elizabeth Briggs
The Dark Arts of Blood by Freda Warrington


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024