Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice

by Wells, Linda

  “Oh, sweetheart … may I tell you later?”

  “Oh yes, sir, you will tell me.” Letting go, she looked him over. “Now … clean this up. Give me that coat and I will bring you another.”

  “I can just go up …” Darcy watched her brows rise and her hands land on her hips. “I guess that I will be occupied.”

  She left the room and the men knelt together on the floor, Darcy gathering the bits of the table and Richard the shards of porcelain. Darcy looked at him and blew out his cheeks. Richard lifted his chin at the door. “What has Elizabeth all teary? I would think she should have ripped us apart and fed us to the dogs.”

  “She does not need to; her obvious disappointment is as effective as a raised voice.” Darcy glanced worriedly back at the door. “But I know that her emotions are already high today, just as mine are. We both believe that Jennifer’s instincts are correct, the birth is imminent.”

  “When are your aunt and uncle coming?”

  “They should be on their way, actually.” He stood and looked for somewhere to put the broken table. “Do you think that this can be salvaged?”

  “See what Ferguson can make of it, he seems a handy fellow.” Richard smiled when Darcy bit his lip. “What is it?”

  “He brought Georgiana flowers a few days ago.”

  “That was kind. I hope that you do not see any more in it than that.” Richard rubbed his neck. “Although, if you grab him by the throat like you did to me I promise you he will confess to anything.”

  “I apologize.” Darcy sat down and began twisting his ring. “I do not know what came over me.”

  “Of course you do, you are the one carrying Georgiana’s burden. Not me, not your uncle, but you. And we took that authority away from you.” Richard dropped the remains of the vase into a bowl. “I am the one to apologize for making things worse.”

  “At least it was in Cheapside. It will not go far, certainly not to Mayfair.” He looked at Richard who nodded encouragingly.

  “I do not see that shopkeeper telling any gentleman the story, and I bet that he has the name muddled by now.”

  “Probably.” Darcy sighed and looked towards the door. “I am going upstairs, manage the guests if they come, would you?”

  “Of course.” Richard watched him go and closed his eyes. Idiot! I am so sorry, I only wanted to help. Maybe I should just return to the army. I did no harm there. Walking back to the bottles of port, he poured himself another glass and was lifting it to his lips when he saw a sparkle in the corner of the room. He set down the glass and bent to pick up his fallen snuff box. His hand closed around it. “Forgive me, Sophie. I will stay.”

  DARCY RAN UP THE STAIRS and calling Elizabeth’s name, found her sitting in his shaving chair busily stitching the tear in his coat. “Dearest, what are you doing?”

  “Sewing.”

  “That, I can see.” Darcy watched her at work and considering her stiff posture, opened a wardrobe door to take down a fresh coat. “I … apologize for the commotion.”

  Her voice was icy. “Please do not tell me this was some display of frustration due to our unfulfilled desires. And I hope this was not the result of some sort of male posturing. That would be completely out of your character.”

  “Yes, it would.” He slipped the coat on and buttoning it, stood behind the chair and studied her skilful hands. “The frustration fuelled my fire, but it was not the spark. A letter was.” Her hands stopped working and he placed a hand upon her shoulder. “Mr. Gardiner heard of Georgiana’s ruin and wrote to me about it.” Elizabeth’s head shot up and she spun around. “Richard confronted Wickham in London and our name was spoken, as was confirmation of Georgiana’s condition.” She gasped and her hand went to her mouth. “Wickham was looking for money …”

  “Sir?” Parker appeared at the door. “Mr. Campbell and Mrs. Dickson appear to be coming up the drive.”

  “Thank you.” Darcy nodded and turned back to Elizabeth. “I will give you his letter later. I think, I pray, that it will remain a secret.”

  “Oh, Will.”

  Taking the coat from her hands, he laid it aside and she rose to rest in his arms. “I went momentarily insane. Richard entered at precisely the wrong time.”

  “I hope that you hit him once for me.” She whispered.

  Darcy smiled and drew back to look down at the face pressed to his chest. “I did not use a pillow.”

  “Good.”

  “Now tell me, why were you crying? Both Richard and I expected a tongue-lashing, not tears.”

  “I had just confronted Mrs. Shaw. I had to be the Mistress of Pemberley, if you understand my meaning.” She looked up to see his smile growing. “I am not fond of raising my voice.”

  “But you do it so very effectively, even when you employ no more than a disappointed look.” She sighed and squeezed his waist. “We have one more battle sweetheart, I know that you are tired, but please do not lose your fight yet. I need you.”

  “I need you, too, but I would like to hide beneath the covers in bed with you until it is all over.” Elizabeth whispered.

  Pressing his lips to her brow, he closed his eyes, “Will you ask Mrs. Dickson about your suspicions?”

  “I will.” She felt his embrace tighten. “I already know the answer, Will. It is likely all of my worrying over you, Georgiana, my father … everything combined to make it stop, and the bleeding I had was my body trying to … be ready again.”

  His hand was caressing over her waist as he listened, “From what I felt before, you body is more than ready. Incredibly, intoxicatingly ready.”

  “And yours is more than ready to accommodate me.” Elizabeth lifted her head from his chest and sighed as his mouth embraced her lips.

  Darcy withdrew and kissed her nose. He smiled softly and brushed back a curl that obstinately returned to its place. “Anytime, anywhere, I will gladly give myself to you.” They heard the bell and both drew steadying breaths. Elizabeth fussed over his cravat and when she stopped, he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Well, Mrs. Darcy, perhaps this is the beginning of the end. At last.”

  Chapter 15

  10 May 1812

  Sommerwald

  Dumfries

  Dear Mr. Gardiner,

  Darcy stared at the page. As the ink began to drip from his pen, blots formed over his salutation. “Do I call you Uncle as you invited me to?” He flexed his left hand and concentrated on the memory of his first meeting with the man in his small study. Calling him a name so intimate was the last thing he ever imagined doing. A relationship, cordial for Elizabeth’s sake, but Uncle? He bit his lip and considered his two other uncles, one who wished to use him, the other … at that particular moment he did not know what he thought of Uncle Harding. He rubbed his hand over his face, and taking out a clean sheet, he dipped his pen in the inkpot and began to write.

  10 May 1812

  Sommerwald

  Dumfries

  Dear Gardiner,

  I hope that you understand when I say that I was appalled to receive your letter. I wish, deeply, that I could send you a letter angrily denying all of it. It grieves me that I cannot. The culmination of this terrible situation is rapidly approaching and my heart is in my mouth. If I did not have my dearest Elizabeth by my side, I would be running mad.

  You offer your help, and I appreciate the gesture, however I cannot imagine what you might do for us beyond keeping your silence. The shopkeeper has had weeks to disseminate his tale. Whatever is said, whatever form it has taken after countless retellings, is out of our hands. My hope is that the distance, if not in miles but in society, will protect us.

  I will not say more on this subject. However, I will say that I love your niece with every fibre of my being, and if I had been such a fool as to miss the chance to be her husband, I would have regretted it all the days of my life.

  I hope that you will be visiting us at Pemberley when you come to the Peaks. I look forward to knowing you better.

&nbs
p; Sincerely yours,

  Darcy

  “I address him as I would a friend. I believe that he will understand that.” Darcy spoke as he read the letter over, and closed his tired eyes as the clock chimed midnight. He searched for a new occupation and nodding, reached for a fresh sheet of paper. “I need to write to Lizzy. I need to tell her how much I love her …” Throwing down the pen, he suddenly jumped up from his chair and stood at the window, flexing his hand. “Will this not stop?” He demanded as he rubbed at his arm. There was a numb, tingling sensation running through it, one that had been coming and going for months, but this night it was a constant companion. The entire left side of his chest felt tight and burning all at once. Determinedly, he tried to ignore it while his heart pounded and he tried to catch his breath. “Lord, please do not take me now. Not now …” Panic was rising in his breast and he fought against it. Closing his eyes, he saw his father collapse and die again. He saw the cottage in Ramsgate, emptied of his sister and her belongings. He saw Elizabeth pulling off her wedding band and running away. Concentrating hard, he attempted every relaxation technique he had ever discovered, breathing slowly, counting backwards, envisioning Pemberley … nothing worked. Nothing distracted him from the incessant beat of his heart in his ears. Help me.

  “There you are.” Darcy started when Elizabeth slipped her arms around his waist. “I woke and the bed was cold. I have not slept in a cold bed since the night we married, and quite frankly, I do not wish to experience it again.”

  “Lizzy.” He said softly, closing his eyes with relief when he felt her head resting against his back, and covered her hands with his, grasping them like a lifeline.

  “Do you wish to be alone?” Elizabeth laced their fingers and squeezed tightly.

  “No. I just did not want to disturb you. I could not sleep.”

  “Your hands are freezing.” Darcy said nothing. She looked up at his neck and could see how rapidly his pulse was pounding. Dear man. Letting go, she moved around to face him. His eyes remained closed. “I love you with every fibre of my being, too.”

  Darcy’s eyes flew open and he stared at her. “How …?”

  “I read the letter on your desk.”

  “Before you embraced me?” He cried.

  “I am sorry; did I do that out of order?” She laughed when his cheeks coloured. “You are the one who taught me observation. I arrive; you are staring off into the night. On your desk is a pen leaking ink onto your blotter and a letter. One is very uncharacteristic; the other would probably give me an idea of what is wrong.”

  The small smile appeared on his lips. “You could be a detective.”

  “Reading the characters of strangers is a hobby, reading you is an entire occupation.” She reached up to caress back the hair that fell across his brow. “I could not sleep, either.”

  “You just said that you woke and were cold.”

  “I could not sleep because I am thinking of the same things you are. I was cold because you were gone.”

  “I was gone so that you could …” He swallowed and looked down. “I should have embraced you.”

  “It might have helped. You would not have disturbed me and it would have been most welcome.” Taking his hand, she led him to the desk where a small bottle sat. She poured out a dose into a wine glass and added some port. Swirling it, she handed it to him. “Drink.”

  “And what is this potion?” Darcy asked with a little smile. “Mistress Witch.”

  Elizabeth shook her head as she put the cork back into the bottle. “I should never have told you that Mrs. Dickson called me that.”

  “I think that you liked her recognizing your knowledge of remedies. She admired your raspberry leaf tea for Georgiana.”

  “And you should drink up your willow bark.” Nodding, she tipped the glass towards his lips. “Your heart hurts.”

  “Everything hurts.” Swallowing the tincture, he made a face.

  “I notice that this seems to help you.” She took the glass from him and set it down before slipping her arms back around his waist. “How do you feel?”

  “So much better for you being with me. When will I learn that you provide the relief I seek?” He drew a deep breath and held her to him. Together they swayed gently. “What are you humming?”

  “It occurs to me that we are in Scotland and we are yet to dance a jig.” Elizabeth smiled when he chuckled. Looking down at the floor she laughed at the misshapen slippers Darcy wore on his feet. “What are those?” He smiled sadly and she knelt down to examine them. “Oh my.”

  “Georgiana presented them to me when I wished her goodnight. I understand that when fine needlework became too difficult with her swollen hands, she began to learn knitting.”

  “Yes, she must have been doing this when she was alone.” Elizabeth squeezed his foot and taking his hand stood again. “She surprised me with a … scarf of sorts.”

  “Of sorts.” Darcy looked away.

  “What is wrong?” Elizabeth caressed his hair and turned his face back to hers.

  “What if she dies, this is all I will have to remember her by.”

  “Oh, Will …” So this is the root of the problem tonight.

  “I … I remember Mother spending month after month decorating little gowns for her baby. And how happy she was … and she never lived to see them worn.” He licked his lips. “Georgiana is labouring.”

  “She is barely begun; Mrs. Dickson said that her womb is just softening in preparation.” Elizabeth held him tightly. “It could be days yet. You must not think the worst.”

  “I cannot help it. I have perfected the technique.” Darcy said bitterly.

  “This day had to come! There is no sense in vilifying the inevitable! You will send yourself to an early grave and I will never forgive you that.” She chastised him sternly and her eyes softened to see his misery. “I am sorry. I should not have said that.”

  “Lizzy, everything you say is true. I know all of this … I am well …” Bowing to her sigh, he admitted, “I am terrified.”

  “So am I. So is she.” Their eyes held. “You cannot control everything. And you must stop trying to fix everything by yourself.”

  “I must always try, Lizzy.” Darcy said determinedly.

  Frustrated she cried, “I am not saying not to try …”

  “Shhh. I hear you, I do.” He nuzzled her hair and drank in the comforting scent of roses and lavender. “The pain is fading.”

  “It is?”

  Brushing her temple with his lips, he asked softly, “Shall we retire?”

  “We will be safe and warm.” Elizabeth whispered.

  He rested his cheek on her head. “I remember promising that to you. It seems so long ago.”

  “Were you frightened that day?”

  “No. I was full of anticipation, I was …” He closed his eyes. “I thought that I was at last in control. Lord, what an arrogant fool I was.”

  “Considering how intense the previous months had been I can understand your incredible determination when you took me into your arms.”

  Darcy eyes warmed and he nodded as he played with her hair. “You understand me so very well.”

  “I understand that you have the strongest heart I have ever known.” She kissed his chest and sighed when he shook his head. “You do, Will. Do you see me crying over you?” Darcy’s brow creased and his mouth opened and shut. “There, do you see? If I was worried, you know how I would be.”

  “You would be … you would be a terrible mess.” He laughed.

  Affronted, she pushed him away. “And look at you smiling at the thought of my misery!”

  “I do not know what came over me …” Feeling his spirits rising, Darcy pulled her close. “Not a tear mars your face.”

  “No. Do you know why?”

  “Tell me, love.”

  “I would rather show you.” Elizabeth slipped her hand behind his neck and drew his head down. They stood together, kissing, and gradually Darcy felt the tension and pain
disappear. Slipping her arms around his waist, she rested her ear against his steadily beating heart.

  “No, no, do not leave me now.” With one hand caressing her bottom and the other buried within the mane of her hair, he lifted her head and looked down at her. “Why did I leave you tonight?” Darcy put all of his love into his kiss. Elizabeth could feel the passion in his insistent, overwhelming caress. Drawing away, he traced his thumb along her jaw, and smiled at the expression gracing her face. “You are determined to ease me through this.”

  Elizabeth blinked and tried to find her balance. “That is why you married me, is it not?”

  “No.”

  “Why then?” She demanded.

  Tenderly, he kissed her nose, and taking her hand tightly in his, he nodded to the door. “Shall we retire?”

  “Will you answer my question?”

  “I already have.” Tilting his head, he watched her thinking. “I want to keep you safe and warm.” Blowing out the lamp burning on the desk, they started on their way upstairs.

  Elizabeth came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. “You will not give up protecting everything in your domain, will you?”

  “No more than you will.” Raising her hand to his lips, he smiled when she closed her eyes. “Thank you for tonight, love.”

  She pinched his bottom and rubbing over the spot, she slipped her arm around his waist, and started them up the stairs. “You are welcome.”

  “HERE, TRY A PINCH OF THIS.” Lord Penzey offered his snuff box to Lord Matlock and passed it around to the other men gathered at the card table. “Fantastic blend.” Simultaneously they sniffed and sneezed loudly. “What did I tell you?” He beamed.

  “That is quite good.” Lord Matlock wiped at his nose with a blue silk handkerchief. “Where did you find it?”

  “Ahh, that is my secret; and it is not from Mayfair. This comes straight from the man who cuts it. He obtains his tobacco from Virginia and … well, I could wax poetic, but that is only because the man does himself. He goes on and on about it.” Lord Penzey laughed. “I suppose if you are to be in trade, you may as well be enthusiastic about it!”