Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (137 page)

“Do you fear that I am not sincere because I am speaking coherently?”  Darcy laughed.  “Oh dear, dear, dear.” 

“I fear far too many things; I will not add you to the list.” 

“May I ask what happened to my always confident, Elizabeth?”  He asked softly.  “After all, you are wearing every talisman of good luck you own.  And every one of them, I am humbled to see, was a gift from me.  These are not the Darcy jewels.”

“I have not been a Darcy long enough to feel attached to them. 
Your
gifts give me strength.”  She saw the warmth shining from his eyes and put her hands to her cheeks.  “Oh dear, will I never stop blushing tonight?”  

He kissed her cheek and pulled her against his chest.  “Do you see where we are, love?” 

“No . . . wait . . . Oh!”  She sat up and looked out of the window and back to him.  “Will!” 

“We have not had the opportunity to visit and since we will be leaving for home soon, I thought . . .”

“Oh dear Will!”  She held his face and kissed him.  “Thank you!  Are they expecting us?”

“Of course.  We are having dinner here, and then we will go on to the play.”  Her hand went to her mouth and he laughed.  “And I brought along the things that you purchased for them when we went shopping last week.” 

“Have you forgotten nothing?”  She laughed.

“I am certain that I have.”  Happily he watched her settle back in her seat, the fear in her eyes was gone and she looked out of the window with anticipation as their carriage stopped in front of the Gardiners’ home. 

WICKHAM WATCHED the fine coach trundling down Gracechurch Street, vaguely curious about why it would be in such an odd location.  The thought crossed his mind that it was a discarded gentleman’s coach, bought by one of the successful merchants on the street, but the coat of arms on the door quashed that thought.  And then he recognized the seal.  “Darcy!”  He stopped and watched as the all too familiar figure stepped down, and . . . yes, there was Elizabeth.  “What would bring him here?” He looked up at the townhouse they had entered.  “Yes, that is right; I heard something of relations in trade.”  Laughing, he shook his head.  “Never in a million years could I imagine Fitzwilliam Darcy acknowledging such a connection!  You have most definitely changed!  That must be your wife’s influence.” 

Crossing his arms, he leaned against a wall and studied the coach.  The blessedly fog-free night allowed the moonlight to reflect off the glossy finish, and Wickham thought of the other coach, the one in Lambton.  “This could not be his new one already.  No, you have many coaches do you not, Darcy?  They are like toys to you.” 

He licked his lips and unbidden, an almost visceral reaction coursed through him and he swallowed.  Staring at the physical representation of Darcy’s wealth struck him as hard as an opium addict starving for his next taste.  Seeing Darcy alive, obviously healthy and with his hand wrapped around his wife’s waist . . . and yes, he had bent to kiss her before the front door was opened . . .  Wickham’s feelings of remorse evaporated.  Obviously the judge had wakened from his illness.  Whatever had gripped him was gone and Darcy was quite safe, and admittedly, the judge was justified in his fury.  Wickham
had
crossed him.

“But why are they in London?  If Georgiana was with child, they surely would not be here.”  He watched the coachman secure the reins and set the brake, then jump down to join the footman inside of the carriage.  Cautiously, Wickham approached and stood outside, and listened to their conversation.

“Brrrr.  Hand me that other rug.” 

“How long d’ya think we’ll be waitin’?”

“Couple of hours.  Mr. Darcy said they was eating, but he wanted to be at the theatre by about eight.”

“Think we could visit that pub down the street?”

“Nah, I’m not leaving this coach sitting out unguarded ‘round here.” 

“I have a cousin lives on Chicken Street, it’s not bad here.”

“I don’t care, I’m not going anywhere.  He’s being awfully nice and letting us go home after we drop ‘em off.  But we’ll be back there at ten sharp to pick ‘em up.” 

“Yeah . . .” He chuckled.  “Or else poor Mrs. Darcy will be slogging it home in her good shoes.” 

“Knowing Mr. Darcy, he’d carry her all the way.” 

“So gallant, Darcy.”  Wickham snorted and then his ears pricked up. 

“Did he say anything more ‘bout Scotland?”

“No, he just said be prepared to head back to Pemberley in a week.  We can work out the route to the lodge from there.  I think Henry wrote it out, I’ll have to look around.”

“Bless him.” 

“Aye.” 

“So who was that maid I saw you kissin’ in the mews?”

The conversation turned to maids and sex, but Wickham had heard more than enough.  “They are going to Scotland.  Nobody goes to Scotland on a holiday in March.”  That was all of the confirmation he needed.  Georgiana
was
pregnant, and they were going to hide the birth.  She would be free to marry one day, she would be fine.  She would have a good life; of course Darcy would take care of her.  “Because no matter what, he will never let me do it, so I might as well let my sweet girl go.  That’s why I let her go the first time, isn’t it?  I couldn’t care for her?” 

Wickham looked up at the beautiful coach and he thought of the guilt-free opportunity that had just landed in his lap.  “I let her go, but I also requested compensation that was never paid.  All right, then.  Who should I approach?  Darcy or the judge?”  Immediately he discarded the judge, he was too dangerous.  But Darcy, good, reliable, happily married Darcy, overprotective Darcy, ridiculously rich Darcy.  “It is always you, isn’t it?”  He thought of the letter of warning he had written, and in his gut,  knew Darcy had never read.  “Would you read a letter from me now?”  He wondered. 

“Hey you!”  Wickham jumped.  “What are you doing hanging ‘round here?  Off with ya!”  The angry coachman cried. 

“Sorry.”  Wickham ducked his head and hurried off down the street towards the boarding house. 

“Sorry is right!  Don’t let me catch you hanging ‘round here again!”  The coachman climbed back inside and pulling up the rug nodded at the footman.  “Now
that
is why we didn’t go to the pub!”

“SOME BRANDY, SIR?”  Mr. Gardiner offered as the men retreated to his study after dinner to allow Elizabeth an opportunity to visit the children.  “It is the same bottle you last sampled, I use it very sparingly.”

“I could not pass up another glass.  I am afraid that I did not enjoy the last as I should.”  Darcy nodded when the wine was pressed into his hand and taking a sip, smiled his appreciation.  “Excellent.”

“Mmm, that it is.”  Mr. Gardiner smiled and looked over the quiet young man.  “You do look well, as my niece pointed out many times this evening.” 

Darcy smiled fondly.  “She was reassuring herself as much as you, I think.”  He rubbed his hand over his face.  “Well, I finally
look
myself again.”

“Any lingering effects?”

“I admit only to you that I have pushed my exercise a bit too fast.  My rib lets me know that it was ill-used from time to time as the fencing master works with me, but I can bear it.  Without Lizzy, I would not be bearing anything.”  He said softly.  “Twice she has saved my life.  Ironic, that.” 

“How so?”  Mr. Gardiner saw Darcy start and realized that the comment was not meant for him.  “I did not want to say too much at dinner, but what did you think of the situation at Longbourn?  I tried to encourage my brother to prepare for the inevitable, but I gathered from a few things you said that you were concerned for what might come?”

“I believe that the estate itself will be fine, the steward is competent, and perhaps with a new master who is eager to succeed, he will be allowed to spend where necessary to effect greater profit in the end.”

“In other words, the profits of Longbourn will not be wasted on ribbons and lace?”  Mr. Gardiner laughed and Darcy shook his head.  “What does concern you?”

“I simply hope that the residents strive to get along.”  He saw his new uncle nodding and shrugged slightly. 

“I understand that Lizzy has made her peace with her father?”

“Yes.  She has no desire to return to Longbourn to see him again.”

“Considering the obstacles he put in her way to marrying you . . .”

“No, to a lesser woman I can see a reaction such as that, spite, I suppose.  But for Lizzy, she wanted a good memory of her father to be her last.  She does not want to carry with her the vision of him in whatever condition he will be at the end.  I think some of that was due to her witnessing me . . . waiting all of the hours and not knowing . . .”  He sighed and looked pensively into the glass of wine.  “I would do anything to blot that from her memory.  She still wakes in the night calling for me from her nightmares.”  

“It will fade, it is too fresh.” 

“I pray that is so.”  Darcy took a drink to cover his emotion.  “You would be very proud of her.  She has taken on her role with determination and an incredible display of confidence that I know she did not possess the day we wed.”

Smiling, Mr. Gardiner watched Darcy’s own pride shining from his face.  “So she has truly taken on the role of Mistress of Pemberley.” 

“She is exceptional.  Although, I am afraid that she will be tested tonight.  That is one reason why I wanted her to come here first, to give her the . . .” He waved his hand and sighed. “I am not sure.  I wanted her to feel . . .”   He shook his head.  “There, she wondered where my lack of coherent speech has gone.”

“You mean that you have been improving?”  Mr. Gardiner laughed.

His shoulders lifted a little.  “Well, I have not had to speak to many people outside of my home of late.   The weather . . .”

“If the fog was thick in Mayfair, you can imagine what we were living with here by the river.”  Mr. Gardiner gestured towards the window.  “I could not see my hand before my face!” 

“Well then we were fortunate, at least we could see our shoes.”  Darcy smiled.  “The weather kept the visitors away, but interest is high, and I am afraid that we must appear.  People want to know how a woman outside of their circle caught my eye and of course, the rumour for the reason we married persists.” 

“She is certainly not with child.”  Mr. Gardiner smiled. 

“No.”  Darcy sighed.  “That is certain if the last week is any indication.” 

“You are newly married, sir.  It will come.” 

“It is not that . . . Call it terribly selfish, but I had somehow convinced myself that had I died, Elizabeth would have found herself to be with child, and . . .” He pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked. 

Mr. Gardiner nodded understandingly.  “A piece of you would have lived on, and your heir would have been born for her to love in your stead.” 

“She was devastated when her courses came.  She was as convinced as I that this would have been the saving grace from a tragedy.  Instead she would have been left so very alone.”  He stared determinedly into the fire and spoke with barely contained emotion, “Foolish girls all around us become with child without effort, and then beautiful, loving women who want one so deeply . . .”  Quickly he wiped his eyes and put his handkerchief away.  “Well, I am fine and we will simply keep trying.” 

Mr. Gardiner raised his glass.  “To the heir of Pemberley!” 

“Heaven bless him.”  Darcy said softly and looked up when there was a knock at the door.  Elizabeth peeked in.  “Lizzy . . .”

“Are you two going to talk all night?”  She stood behind his chair and rubbed his shoulders.  “Or would you prefer to miss the performance?  I tried in vain to convince Aunt to come with us, but she said that she is not going to spend the night wandering the streets of London when she could be happily tucked up in bed.” 

“That sounds just fine to me.”  Darcy smiled up to her and took the hand that rested on his coat.  “But  . . .”

“I know, I know . . .” Elizabeth drew a dramatic breath and coming around to the front of his chair, took his glass away and held out her hands.  “Very well, Mr. Darcy, let us see this fearsome beast named Society and tame it.”

“Shall I bring my foil?”

She looked at him appraisingly, “Well you have certainly practiced enough with that sword of yours.  I would hope you could now put it to good use.”  Her eyes sparkled and his crinkled into a smile.  She turned to her uncle and wrapped her hand around his arm as she walked ahead of her husband.  “Has he told you how tired he is from his constant exercise?”

“He did mention it . . .” Mr. Gardiner looked back at Darcy to find that his face was pink but his smile was growing.  “Perhaps a bit less exercise if the strain is too much?  Your fencing master is too hard on you.”

“Oh, no.”  Husband and wife said together and laughed at each other.

“Well then.”  Mr. Gardiner’s head swam as he looked between them.  “I think that I will just stay out of this.” 

“HERE WE ARE.”  Darcy observed as they walked through the milling crowd to enter the theatre.  “Are you ready?” 

Elizabeth tried to speak lightly but her grip told the truth.  “Not particularly.  Could we return to Gracechurch Street?  Or better yet, go home?” 

“Where is my confident Lizzy who was not a half hour ago running circles around her poor confused uncle?” 

“I believe that she resides in that carriage . . .” They looked behind them as it pulled away and they turned to each other.  Darcy’s eyes were twinkling.  Elizabeth nearly stamped her foot.  “I know that you hate these situations, how can you be so annoyingly relaxed?”

“Because I refuse to believe that our marriage can possibly hold the interest of the top of English society for so long.  We are dull, dearest.  They want scandal, and heaven knows there is enough in St. James’s to keep their tongues wagging all Season.”  Elizabeth giggled and Darcy valiantly refrained from kissing her.  “However, to answer your question, I know everybody inside and you do not.” 

Elizabeth stepped on his foot and his lips twitched.  “Are any of them actual, genuine friends of yours?” 

“Probably.  I do have them, although they may not be in Town just yet.”  Darcy smiled with her sigh.  “Now then Mrs. Darcy, chin up.  Shoulders back.”  He admired her chest.  “Nicely done, love.”