Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (33 page)

Her voice stopped his kiss.  “How will I know when I am ready?”   

The small smile appeared and travelled to his warmly twinkling eyes.  “You will know, because you will have just told me.”

Chapter 11

29 November 1811

Netherfield Hall

My dearest Elizabeth,

I sit at the desk in my chambers, fruitlessly watching the fields and pathways that I know lead to your home, hoping, foolishly, that you have escaped the bosom of your family and are walking steadily over stiles and through the woods to me.  Not that I like one bit the thought of you walking anywhere alone, but if it means that you would be here, I could bear it.  Selfish hypocrite, I know.  I can hear your chastisement already.  What does that mean, do you think?  That I can imagine your words?  That I can see your face before me, your eyes flashing in annoyance or sparkling with amusement?  I think, my Elizabeth, that it is wonderful.  I think that it means my affections for you are not those of a man who feels the fleeting stirrings of desire or amusement, but that my feelings are deep, permanent, solid. 

I have done as you requested this time; I have left you alone these past two interminable days.  I have stayed away so you may say your farewells.  It has been so difficult to honour your perfectly reasonable request.  I will not pretend to comprehend the emotions you are experiencing.  Six weeks ago, you did not know I breathed, and tomorrow, you will vow to be my wife and leave all that you have ever known for an uncertain future.  Two weeks ago you proclaimed dislike for me, and two days ago, you kissed me with such feeling that I nearly lost all reason.  I pray that with our wedding, the roiling of emotions will come to an end.  I want, more than anything, to make you so very happy.  I want to give you a home that you will love and a life that you will treasure.  I want you to know me as no other person does or ever will.  I think that of all of the women in the world, you are truly the only one who would give me that gift of freedom. 

I need you.

Until tomorrow, my dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth,

Your Fitzwilliam.
  

“You need me.”  Elizabeth said softly, and folding the letter, placed it under her pillow.  She knew that it would be read countless times that night.  Drawing a long breath, she wiped her eyes and stood before the window; her arms wrapped around herself, and searched the horizon.  Just beyond the trees lay Netherfield.  “You need me for more than just your sister; she was not first in your mind when you kissed me in the library.  The way you looked at me . . .” She closed her eyes and relived his proposal, and imagined his arms around her.  “I need you, too.”

Turning away from the window she surveyed the room.  There was so little to take away.  The brush and mirror she had received on her eighteenth birthday, a few sketches Kitty had made of family and Longbourn, some books, Fitzwilliam’s jewels.  And then there were her clothes.  “When did your opinion of me form, I wonder?”  She opened a drawer and removing her stockings, piled them on the bed.  “It was not that first night, oh you formed an opinion, but it was not a favourable one, I am sure!”  She smiled and then shook her head.  “Well, maybe it was, but you were preoccupied that night; your words were said without thought.  It was one of our later encounters that finally drew your complete attention.”  Nodding, she thought of attending church.  She had glared at him and he stared, curiosity and surprise evident in his eyes, and then his head tilted . . . “That might have been the moment.  That is when you truly saw me.”  She sank down on the bed, thinking over the dinners they had attended together, eyeing each other the whole time, and especially that night at Lucas Lodge when he asked her to dance.  Elizabeth smiled down at her slippers.  “I was attracted from the beginning, too.”

A knock came to the door and Jane peeked in.  “Oh, it is beautiful, Lizzy!”  She touched the wedding dress spread out over the bed.  “Mr. Darcy will be so pleased!” 

“I hope so.”  Elizabeth studied the dress, it was the nicest gown she had ever owned, and certainly made of the finest materials.  Somehow though, she knew it was still not good enough for her new society.  Looking to her open trunk, she fingered the dresses.  “He has seen these so many times.”

“But when you are in London, you will purchase your wedding clothes.”  Picking up another gown, Jane started to fold it.

“I know, but I am . . . oh Jane, what am I to wear while we wait for the new dresses to be made?   I cannot go out in public and embarrass him!”  Elizabeth looked back to her closet.  “I do not have anything at all good enough!  Colonel Fitzwilliam told me that my ball gown was only suited for the country!”

“I think that the colonel was mistaken.”  Jane said as she placed the gown into the trunk before taking a seat beside her.  “What would a man know of fashion, after all?”

“He knew enough listening to the Bingley sisters . . . well, one in particular.” 

“Miss Bingley is disappointed; she had hopes for Mr. Darcy herself and is indulging in a little spite.  I am sure that once you are married you will become great friends.” 

Elizabeth sighed.  “Jane . . . no.”

“She has always been very amiable to me.” 

“Oh Jane, how can anyone not be amiable to you?”  Elizabeth held her hands and silence filled the room.  “I will miss you so much.”

“We will see each other . . .” Jane’s voice trailed away.  “Sometime.” 

“You will come to Pemberley, and when we come to London you will stay with us.”  Elizabeth determinedly held back her tears.  Jane nodded, but could not say more.  “It has all happened so fast.” 

“But it has happened.”  Jane at last spoke when she felt her sister’s hands trembling.  “How many times have we whispered together during the night about one day a good man finding us; and wanting us despite our poor dowries; and whisking us away . . .”

“Mr. Darcy is no knight in shining armour.”  Elizabeth sniffed and wiped her eyes with her hand, then pulling out the handkerchief she kept tucked in her sleeve, she traced her fingertips over the initials embroidered in the corner.  “And I am glad of it.  He is not perfect, no matter how hard he strives to be.  He is a very good man.  I am sorry I did not see that sooner.”

“I have watched him looking at you, Lizzy.”  Jane clasped her hand.  “Remember how he stared at you before?”

“When I thought he looked for fault?  What a fool I was!”  She laughed and dabbed her eyes with the cloth. 

“Yes, well, now when he looks at you . . . oh Lizzy, his feelings are unhidden!”  Jane sighed when Elizabeth blushed.  “You have nothing to fear, I am sure of it.”

“Not from him, no.”  Elizabeth whispered.  “Only from what is beyond his control.”  Shaking her head she looked back to Jane, squeezing her hands tight.  “I have learned from this, Jane.  Everything we have been taught about modesty is incorrect.  If it is at all possible to tell the person you like your feelings, do so.  Do not leave him to guess.  All that does is create confusion.”

“Lizzy, I do not think that I could . . .”

Mrs. Bennet appeared in the doorway.  “Jane, please leave the room, I have to speak to Lizzy.” 

Elizabeth spoke quickly, “Mama, we are packing, could this wait for tonight?”

“No, it is in my mind to speak to you now, and I will not forget to do this!   I have the wedding breakfast to finish preparing . . . oh, the post arrived, this letter is for you.”  Elizabeth took it and her hand went to her mouth, it was from Lady Catherine.   “And your aunt and Uncle Gardiner cannot come . . .”

“Oh no!”  Elizabeth looked to Jane who had risen to her feet.  “Why?”

“Something about the children being ill.”  Mrs. Bennet waved her hand.  “You will be in London, you can visit Cheapside sometime.  Now Jane, shoo!”

“Yes, Mama.”  Jane exchanged confused looks with Elizabeth before walking to the hallway, and closed the door behind her.

“Lizzy.”  Mrs. Bennet moved around the bedchamber, and picking up a pair of stockings, started rolling them up.  “I do not know precisely what you did at Netherfield with Mr. Darcy . . .” 

“Mama, nothing happened!”

“Yes, yes.”  She stopped and studied her.  “I do not
know
if you went to his chambers, or he to yours . . .” She nodded when Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide.  “But I am positive that your first kiss from him did not happen at Longbourn.”  Seeing her eyes cast down and her face turn crimson, Mrs. Bennet grinned triumphantly.  “I knew it!”

“Mama, please . . .”

“Well, tomorrow you marry, and I have to tell you your duties towards Mr. Darcy.” 

“Oh.”  Elizabeth’s blush deepened.  “It is not necessary, Mama.”

“It most certainly is!  Would you prefer to have your husband come to you tomorrow night and have no idea what he is doing?  I assure you, Lizzy, Mr. Darcy does not want a woman who lies still and closes her eyes!  He wants a woman who welcomes his visits!  I never said no to your father, it is his right to come to me when he feels the need, and my duty to be receptive.”  Elizabeth’s mouth fell open.  “That is what keeps your husband at home, and not running off after some courtesan, or some loose woman, and you know they will be tempting him, Lizzy!  Look at that Miss Bingley!  Brazen the way she falls all over him!  You caught that man, and you must keep him!”

Elizabeth searched for one subject to address from her speech.  “But . . . Mama I have grown up hearing you talk with the ladies about how terrible it is.”

“Lizzy Bennet, married ladies like to have their joke, and one of them is scaring the daylights out of our daughters!”  She sat down on the bed.  “How else do we convince you to stay pure until your wedding day?  Or at least until you find a man you can capture by giving him what he wants?”  She patted her leg and winked knowingly.

“Mama, truly I did not . . .” Giving up, Elizabeth bit her lip.  “Aunt Gardiner already wrote to me what to expect, so it really is not necessary to tell me anything more.”

“Margaret!”  Mrs. Bennet cried.  “Ohhh I will give her a piece of my mind when she comes for Christmas!  What did she tell you?”

“Oh Mama, must we?”  Elizabeth looked desperately out of the window for rescue, but knew this time it definitely was not coming.  “I must finish this packing!”

“I will speak while you work.”  Mrs. Bennet said determinedly.  “Now then, tomorrow night . . .”

“YOUR POST, SIR.”  Parker handed the stack of letters to Darcy and he glanced through them, mostly business concerns, and one from Uncle Darcy.  Parker cleared his throat.  “Sir, I received a note from Darcy House, all of the preparations have been completed for your arrival tomorrow afternoon.  Mrs. Gaston has hired a lady’s maid and the mistress’s chambers are in order.  She said that the modiste has confirmed the appointment for Monday morning.”  Darcy nodded and began to open the letter from his uncle.  “Sir, I . . . do not mean to disturb you further, but have you given much thought to your wedding night?”  Feeling the steely blue eyes now boring into him, he cleared his throat again.  “Are there any special accommodations you would like to have in place that I might secure for you?  A special bottle of wine?  Certain temptations?  Anything that might promote . . . relaxation, sir?”

“For whom, myself or my bride?”

“Whatever is necessary, sir.”  Parker spoke diffidently and turned away.  Darcy’s mouth lifted for a moment before falling again.

“A sweet wine, I think, Parker.  That should be sufficient.” 

“Yes, sir.”  Parker noticed the resignation on his master’s face, but could not decipher its meaning.  “Your blue coat for tomorrow?  And the ivory waistcoat?”  Seeing the nod, he quietly left the room. 

Darcy sat alone at the writing desk placed before the window of his bedchamber.  “What will we do on our wedding night, Elizabeth?  Certainly not what every other newly married couple enjoys.”  He looked out across the barren Netherfield gardens to the empty drive beyond, then back down to read the letter in his hand.  His brow creased, and standing, he walked from the room and down the stairs towards the billiards parlour.  Passing a drawing room he caught the conversation between Louisa and Caroline and sighing, continued on.  The crack of balls striking each other preceded his arrival. 

“Well done!”  Richard cried.

“I have had a great deal of practice.”  Hurst grinned and moved around the table to consider his next shot. 

Bingley smiled.  “Darcy, there you are!  We were wondering if you would appear for your stag night!”

“Bingley, for the last time, no.  Please.  Save it for your wedding one day.”  He stood near the table and watched the game progress. 

“Well if you will not permit us to toast you, then perhaps I should drop by to visit while I am in Town?” 

“I value our friendship Charles, but please do not test it.”  He spoke softly. 

“I was just teasing you.”  Bingley’s smile faded.  “Are you well, Darcy?”

Richard walked past and gripped his shoulder briefly.  “I believe that my cousin has a great deal on his mind.  I hope that your honeymoon will give you an opportunity to relax.”

“That would be welcome; it has been a very long time.”  He thought of Elizabeth and all that he had planned.  

“Mr. Darcy.”  A servant arrived with a note on a salver.  Darcy took it and looked up when they heard Caroline’s strident tones in the hallway.  The other men grimaced with the sound.

“She has rather enjoyed having you all to herself the past few days, even if you did largely ignore her.”  Hurst noted and winked at Richard.  “It was as if you were an old married couple!”

“She was rather . . . close to you.”  Samuel noted carefully while the men laughed.

“Yes.”  Darcy glanced at Bingley, who shrugged.  “Well, I am sure that she will find there are plenty of other men to grace with her attentions soon enough.”  He looked at the letter in his hand and then to Richard.  “I received a letter from Uncle.”

“Oh?”  Setting down the cue, he moved towards him.  “News?”