Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (114 page)

“And this is why Matlock is destitute.”  She said angrily. 

“Exactly.  Pay off the gambling debts to save a reputation or see my cousin with a glass of cyanide to do the same.”  He smiled at her continued display of disgust.  “I realize that the arsenic should have served quite nicely for that purpose.  I pray that he recovers from the abuse he inflicted upon himself.”

“But your Uncle is different; it seems that he was not aware of his attempts.”  She pressed down on the pages of the book and ran her finger along the text.  “I am sure that Susan would know of this.”

“Grandmother would have told her, she was living when they married.”  He read on.  “
The jealousy between George and Harding pains me.  Harding wishes to win his father’s attention and works so hard to wrest it away from his brother, while George does not understand why I give so much of my attention to his brother.  He does not understand that Harding is a sad soul, and the loss of his siblings was devastating.  George is so strong, I am glad that he is Pemberley’s heir, he will do well.  Harding so easily takes offense, and feels hurt very deeply.  I pray that he finds an understanding wife.
”

“I believe that he has.”  Elizabeth took the book from Darcy’s hands and then setting the history aside, curled into his arms. 

Darcy’s eyes closed and he rested his cheek on her head.  “I believe that I have as well.” 

SUSAN REACHED for her husband’s hand and squeezed.  “Are you sure that you feel well enough to visit Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth?” 

Judge Darcy moved his gaze from its fixed stare at the ridge and lifted her fingers to his lips.  He could sense how that slight gesture brought her so much pleasure.  “I apologize, dear.  I was elsewhere.”

“We have been parted for so long, I wondered if . . . if you would still remember the little things.”   She looked down at their hands.  “I was wondering if you would kiss my fingers and there you did as if we had only been parted for days.  You always would when we were sitting in silence, you always made me feel as if I was still part of you even when you seemed so far away.”

“Am I so complex?”  He smiled when she nodded.  “I have so many thoughts flying through my mind, it is deafening.”  Seeing her worry, he drew her to his side and kissed her cheek.  “Susan, how can you love me?”

“What a silly question. I could very well ask the same of you.”  She stroked his cheek and studied his troubled eyes.  “Tell me what is wrong.  I fear that you will never be well again unless you do.  This is more than recovering from the laudanum.”  He hesitated, Susan was the one person in the world who would understand, and he knew that the truth would devastate her, but he desperately needed to talk to someone besides himself.  “Please, Harding.  Tell me what is wrong.”

“I feel as if I am waking from a nightmare, but I do not have the relief of dismissing it as a dream.  I am afraid of the things I have done, and finding out the affects of my actions.  I am . . . coming to grips with the notion that I cannot blame my behaviour on others.  I am learning that I have demons within me that will never fade.”  He held her close.  “Please, dear.  I beg you to tell me if I frighten you.” 

“I am frightened because you clearly are.  I am not frightened for my well-being.”  That he felt relief with her statement was worrisome.  “Harding, do you truly think that you would do physical harm upon me?”

“No, dear, never.”  He swallowed and looked back to the view.  “But I fear that I have done so to others.”

“In your capacity as a judge?  You were following the law.”

“I have sentenced so many to death.  It has become almost a habit.”  They reached the point of the drive where the crashes had occurred and the sound of Elizabeth’s cries for Darcy filled his mind.  “A horrible, mindless habit.”  Tears appeared, and Susan felt her heart breaking to see the pain in his expression. 

“Harding, please, let this out!  I will not allow you to carry these burdens.  Tell me of the demons, dear.   What is plaguing you?  It must be about Georgiana.  Carson told me that you became ill this summer and were suffering terribly when she was missing.”

“It was my fault, it was all my fault.”  He pressed his face to her bonnet.  “Oh God, what have I done?”

“You?”  Susan hugged him and tried to understand.  “It was nothing to do with you.  If you are to blame yourself for this, then Fitzwilliam will have to as well, and that man carries enough guilt on his shoulders.  No, no, you must not take on this blame.”

“That is not what I meant.”  He tried to regain control and looked at her helplessly.  “I am sorry dear; this is not the place for this discussion.”

“Well . . . let me just say this.  It took me some time to understand everything, but when Darcy and Elizabeth returned home and confronted Georgiana, I came to agree with them.  The burden for this tragedy rests squarely on both Georgiana and Wickham.  He saw an opportunity and took it.  She made it easy for him.” 

Judge Darcy stared at his wife.  “Georgiana?  She did nothing wrong!”

“Of course she did.  She was tempted and did not resist.  She was educated and disregarded it.”  His frown was thunderous and Susan studied him.  “Dear Harding, she had her own reasons for accepting his attentions and none of them were admirable. There is blame enough to go around.  One person’s actions may have begun this, but it took two to create what it became.” 

“I do not know what to say.  Susan, I . . . I do not know what to say.”

“I know why you blame yourself.” 

“Why?”   He searched her eyes.

“Because we have always regarded ourselves as her surrogate parents and when Fitzwilliam was left with the burden of becoming Master of Pemberley and parent to a young girl, we did not relieve him of that burden.  We failed him because we did not want to overstep when every other relative he has was chomping at the bit to get their hands on what he owned.  Can you imagine our Samuel being faced with the same as Fitzwilliam now?” 

Judge Darcy looked up at the manor when the carriage came to a stop.  “He would be utterly lost, just as Fitzwilliam was.”  A footman opened the door and their conversation ended as they made their way inside. 

They were standing in the foyer removing their coats when Georgiana appeared at the top of the stairs.  “Uncle!”   She ran down and into his outstretched arms.  “Oh, Uncle!  Are you well?” 

“My dear child.  My dear sweet Georgiana.”  The judge hugged her fiercely.  “Yes, I feel much better.  Are you well, my girl?”

“Yes.”  She rested against his chest.  “I am well.  It was horrible, but . . . Fitzwilliam is doing better and better every day.  I am not afraid to look at him now.”

“Well that is a warning to watch your expression if there ever was one.”  Judge Darcy smiled at Susan.

“His face is not swollen like it was.”  Georgiana explained as they walked towards the library.  “But he is awfully bruised and hurting terribly.  Elizabeth is doing her best to keep his spirits up.”  She knocked softly, but hearing no response, they entered and found Elizabeth curled in Darcy’s arms, fast asleep.  Darcy was awake, a small book was open in his lap and he seemed to be lost in thought. 

“Oh Fitzwilliam, you are a sight.”  Susan whispered and bent to kiss a small unbruised patch on his face.  “How are you?” 

“As long as I do not move, I am fine.”  He smiled and shook his uncle’s hand.  “This is a surprise.  How are you feeling, sir?”

“Much better.  I am eating again.  Your aunt is looking after me.”  He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her smile then looked to Elizabeth.  “How is she?”

Darcy smiled softly at his peaceful wife.  “She is finally letting down.  I think that she spent every night since it happened watching me.  She has been pushing herself far too hard.  Seeing me out of the bed, I think, has been the balm that she needed.  Now she is assured that I will be fine one day.”  He sighed.  “Now she can worry about other things.”

“Such as?”

“Her father’s life is ebbing.”  He saw Georgiana’s face become pained and smiled at her.  “Will you show Aunt the drawings you made this morning, dear?”

“Oh, yes.”  Gratefully, she led Susan from the room and Judge Darcy took the chair next to his nephew and looked at him quizzically. 

“She cannot stand to hear any conversation about illness or death.”  He looked back to Elizabeth.  “I am determined to take Elizabeth to Longbourn next week.  I want her to say goodbye to her father.”

“You are in no condition to travel.  I felt every bump riding here from the dower house and I am just in possession of an undernourished body and a knot on the head.  You will be in agony before you reach Lambton.  Even in your best carriage, the roads will be difficult, especially if the weather turns.”

“I am hoping that I will stage a spectacular recovery by then.”  He saw his uncle’s doubtful expression and shrugged.  “I will not let her down.”

“Her father was not the most supportive man . . .”

“No, not at all, but he is still her father.  She gave up her family and all that she knew to come away with me.”  Darcy gently kissed her brow.  “I will go for her.  I know that she would go for me.”

“Of course, and we will be glad to look after Georgiana.”  The judge looked between the sleeping woman and her obviously devoted husband and battling with the guilt; found his nephew’s gaze fixed upon him again.  “I have decided to retire and will not be returning to Town.”  He noted  Darcy’s mild reaction.  “We would like to remain living here, if you do not mind.”

“Why would I mind?  You are welcome, you always have been.” 

“Thank you.”  Judge Darcy looked down at his hands and shook his head.  “Darcy . . . I have something very serious to discuss with you . . .”

“Samuel?”  His uncle looked up with surprise.  “My offer to fund his purchase of Mayfield’s practice?  It is not up for discussion, sir.  I want to do this for him.”

“I appreciate that, but . . . It is a matter of pride.  I am hardly destitute.  I have only had to pay rent on the townhouse all these years.   I have had no other children to educate or provide dowries for . . .”  He hesitated and swallowed hard.  “I will do this for my son.”

“It is thirty thousand pounds.”  Darcy said quietly and his uncle drew a sharp breath.  “It is not just the business, but a home in the village with some land, as well.  And you are retiring, so your income will be from interest alone. What do you say; you start the process?  Only a deposit is needed now to assure his sincere intent.   And if necessary, I will stand ready to fund the rest when Mr. Mayfield determines Samuel has learned all that he needs to know.  Of course, he will not have to repay
you
. . .”  Darcy smiled and the judge laughed softly.  “Perhaps he might save enough to pay us both back?”

“I doubt that very much.  This is Derbyshire, not London.  His income will not be great.  His life will not be what I planned for him, but I . . . I have quite recently come to realize that my role is to guide him, not to impose my will.”  He held out his hand and they shook.  “I thank you for this, Fitzwilliam.” 

“No.  I would do this for any brother of mine.”  Their eyes met and Darcy laid his head back on the chair.  “I have been thinking a great deal of Georgiana and . . . her seducer.”

Judge Darcy’s smile faded, “Oh?  My wife blames the two of them, and said that it was you and Elizabeth who convinced her of that view.”

“I agree, it was their decisions that ultimately caused her ruin, but something else has occurred to me only today.  Both of them were indulged heavily in their formative years, oddly enough, both by the same men.”

“Who?”

“My father and I.” 

“You?”  He shook his head.  “My brother, yes I can see, but you?”

“I paid Wickham’s debts to keep Father from learning how he betrayed him, so Wickham never faced any consequences for his behaviour.  Georgiana was indulged from birth by Father, and after he died by me because I did not know any other way to make her happy.”

“Both actions were done to protect, Fitzwilliam.  None of this is your fault.  Please be assured of that.”

“I will accept my piece of it, whatever the size.”  Darcy bit his lip and looked at his grandmother’s book and then up to his uncle. 

Judge Darcy could read a man’s face without effort and knew that Darcy had something to say.  “What is on your mind, Nephew?”

“Entirely too much, sir.”  Darcy said softly.  “But as you say, I have a great deal of healing to accomplish before we leave.  I will concentrate on that for now.”  He looked down at Elizabeth and kissed her gently.  “I need to take care of my wife right now.”

“Of course.”  The judge nodded and wondered what he was thinking.  “I think that you have your priorities in order.”

Darcy looked back to his uncle.  “I do, as well.”

“DO YOU THINK you can repair it?”  A group of men lounged at the entrance of Macalister’s Cartwright Shop.  Within stood the remains of the two Darcy carriages.  The curricle was a complete loss and would be salvaged for parts, but the coach was at least whole.  The sight of the six-horse team entering Lambton nearly five days after the accident, towing the two carriages, had brought all activity in the village to a standstill.  Everyone knew the story of the accident and the actions of the Master and Mistress of Pemberley to save each others’ lives, and the evidence of the horrific crash drew the curious like flies.

“I think that I can.”  Macalister rubbed his chin, disregarding the grease that was left behind.  “I’ve never taken on such a big job, though.  Mr. Barnes told me to repair it to my best ability and if I’m proud of the job, he’d be sure to show it to Mr. Darcy himself.” 

“Won’t he see it anyway?”

“No, no, Mrs. Darcy don’t want nothing to do with these vehicles.  You could make them better than new, but she said too many bad memories are with them. Mr. Darcy agreed; they have to go, so I’m making this one good enough to sell.  I’d love to get the order to make him a new one.”  He sighed wishfully.  “Mr. Barnes said he’s already ordered the new coach, but Mr. Darcy has a lot of thinking to do about his new curricle.  That was his favourite.”