Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (50 page)

“It is on your breath, and the crumbs are . . . no longer on your lips.”  Darcy caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, then pulling her to him, they held each other loosely.  “You were crying.”

“I am silly.”  She touched his face.  “I see you were unhappy as well.”

“I do not recognize myself since you have come along.”

“I have brought out unknown emotions?”

“You have given my emotions depth that I never fathomed I could feel, let alone express.  I cannot begin to explain how grateful I was to wake to find you with me.  Thank you.”  Darcy saw her eyes welling up and shook his head.  “Dearest please . . .”

She swallowed and felt his hands rubbing her back.  “I could not have spent the night without you.”  Elizabeth looked up to him and smiled when his gaze warmed.  “Have I truly only loved you for three weeks?”

He laughed softly.  “I would like to think that you loved me from first sight, and were a little confused for a time.”

“So that is the story we will tell.”  Elizabeth’s fingers ran through his chestnut brown hair and she watched his eyes crinkle into a smile.  “I just listened to our cook expounding on her great love affair that I fear is more imagination than truth.”

“Ah, Mr. Christmas.”

“
You
know?”  She laughed when he shrugged.  “Well, perhaps our version is more truth than imagination, on both sides.”

“I believe so.” 

Standing on her toes, she kissed him, then winding her arms around his neck; she caressed his lips.  Darcy’s arms wrapped tightly around her and they remained embraced for several long minutes.  They drew apart and she stroked over his reddened mouth with her fingertips. 

“I have had an idea . . .”

Darcy’s lips wandered over her face, and he whispered below her ear.  “For?” 

She drew breath and plunged on.  “Georgiana’s baby.”

His motion stopped and his head popped up.   The hazy desire was gone and he was instantly giving her his complete attention.  “Tell me!”

Hearing the carriage drive up to the front of the house, she looked out of the window.  “Should we not be going?”

“No!  This is exceptionally more important than returning calls to people we do not like.”  Darcy went to the study door and closed it, then taking her hands, urged her on.  “
Tell me.
  This idea came to you last night?”

“This morning as we held each other, and I was wishing that I could just roll over and express everything that I was feeling . . .” Darcy’s grip tightened almost to the point of being painful and she knew he felt exactly the same.  “I did not say anything then, I was still working it all out . . . I have been going over and over it in my mind, but I think . . .”

“
Tell me!
”

“Yesterday when I went upstairs with Aunt, she told me of a woman we both knew . . . from Cheapside.”  She looked down and he lifted her chin back up, and fixed his eyes on her.  “She died in childbed when she could not stop bleeding, but the baby survived.”  Elizabeth bit her lip when a pained look came to his eyes, and continued.  “Her husband could not care for a newborn, he could not afford a wet nurse for her, and had no family willing to take her, so he gave the baby to a family he trusted to keep until she was weaned, and hopefully he would remarry and be able to take his child back.  It saves her from the orphanage and . . . heaven knows what sort of a future.  He likely never would have seen her again.”

“To have to think of remarrying when your beloved wife is not even in her grave . . .” Darcy looked over Elizabeth and determinedly banished his thoughts, focussing instead on her eyes.  “I do not understand; how does this apply to Georgiana?”

“I thought that . . . when we take her away to Scotland to give birth . . . I mean, when we take our delayed honeymoon to your home there, and she accompanies us . . .  could we report to our family that I miscarried?  It is common enough; I would not have to be that far along, just enough so that we could announce I was with child before we left, but not enough that I would be showing . . .” 

“Three or four months?”

“Yes.”  She saw that he was still not sure of her plan and caressed his face.  “We could say that I was so devastated by the loss that when a local gentleman with a large family lost his wife in childbirth, you offered to take the babe in as a ward, to give it a home, and to cheer me.  Not to adopt or give him your name, but . . . to help me to recover in the belief that my happiness would help me to become with child again, our child, sooner.   It is well-known that a happy woman is much more likely to conceive.” 

Darcy stared at her unblinkingly, and she grew lost in the blue of his eyes.  Clearly he was examining every aspect of the idea, she could see him asking and answering questions as his gaze roamed over her face, finally settling into reading the brown eyes that told him everything.  “Georgiana’s baby would be our ward.”  He smiled a little.  “Not our first born, not with any rights to Pemberley . . . but not a foundling either.  There would be no stigma of him being fathered out of wedlock.”  The smile grew and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.  “Elizabeth!”  He laughed and hugged her tightly.  “That is it!  He can grow up at Pemberley; we can give him a wonderful life, a solid future . . . and still give our son his rights, while protecting Georgiana and giving her a future as well!  Perhaps . . .” He began thinking quickly, “After we have had a few children, we could decide to adopt him, once our heir is born . . .”  His brow creased and he bit his lip.  “Perhaps Uncle would know someone I could speak to in the Chancery Court. . . Samuel might know, his law office deals more with family issues than criminal . . . I do not believe that adopted children have the right to inherit as blood children do . . .”

“They do not?”  Elizabeth asked and he startled from his musings.

“Well . . . yes and no, that is why I had the plan to pretend that you had given birth to the child, an adopted one is not the same, I think.”  He laughed and shrugged.  “I am no attorney, I truly know nothing about taking in a child, but Uncle’s anger with my plan tells me that I am correct.”  His smile faded and he grew serious again.  “But what of this large family that sent him away?  Why would he not go to his relatives instead?  And what will we tell him?  Perhaps it would be better to make it a friend with his first child like your example from your aunt, with no suitable family to take the boy, and he put him somewhere safe, with another friend . . . and moved on, and lost touch.  It would excuse us not adopting immediately as we expected him to return and take responsibility.  In some ways, it is the truth of his father’s relationship with me.”  Darcy said bitterly and looked to his father’s portrait.

“Well, you are helping another friend, your sister.”  Elizabeth smiled hopefully and caressed his hair.  Darcy’s gaze returned to see the love in her eyes and nodded, letting the thoughts of Wickham’s betrayal go.  “We have time to refine this, but . . . do you truly like it?”

“Yes!” 

She gasped when he nearly squeezed the life out of her, then squealed when he picked her up and spun her around the room.  “Fitzwilliam!” 

He set her down and kissed her, delighted to see her relief with his happiness.  “Thank you, dearest, I never would have thought of this!  Bless you for thinking of something so superior to my admittedly terrible idea!”

“It is still deception; I still must pretend to be with child.”  She looked down, “We must still be careful.  I . . . I could bear the feel of . . . the condom if . . .”

Darcy smiled sadly and lifted her chin to kiss her.  “No, love, I will not have either of us bear anything.  You have given us reason to hope, now let us find reason to rejoice.  There must be more we can do . . .” He drew her back into his embrace and tucking her head under his chin, he began working out the details. “To have you say, four months along at the time that Georgiana gives birth, our phantom baby would have been conceived in March.”

“Well, really would not the baby be conceived sooner?  I could not have the miscarriage then immediately have the infant appear, should I not have recovered for a week or two?” 

“So, mid-February?” 

“About that.”  Elizabeth rested her head against his chest then looked up to his face when he chuckled.  “What are you thinking?”

“Our imaginary baby would be conceived on Valentine’s Day.”  His eyes twinkled as she blushed.  “I have never had a Valentine before, although I do have a book of verses appropriate for writing to a lady.”

“You do not!”  She gasped. 

“I do,
The Young Man’s Valentine Writer
.”  He scanned the shelves.  “I believe it is at Pemberley, a joke gift from Richard for my birthday a few years ago.  He claimed it was to give me confidence in courting.”

“Poetry is the food of love.”  Elizabeth smiled.

“Of a fine, stout, healthy love . . .” He laughed and his eyes softened.  “That is what we have, dearest, if we did not we would not have survived the last day.”  Suddenly a thought occurred to him, and kissing her, he let go and went to his desk, settling onto the edge and picking up his calendar.  He held out his hand and pulled her over to perch beside him as he turned the pages.  “Let us see.  Today is Wednesday, December eleventh . . .  Three, four, five, six, seven . . . eight, nearly nine weeks.”  Smiling, he set down the calendar, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he kissed her gently.  “Would it not be wonderful if we did conceive a child on that day?”  He tilted his head when she stared at her hands, and willed her to look at him.  “Elizabeth?  What are you thinking?  Remember, we agreed to be open with each other.”

She met his eyes.  “Nine weeks is very much like an engagement, and we were denied that time, I think to our detriment.  We have spent the last few weeks trying to force our friendship and love to grow unnaturally fast.  I know that we are both very happy that we are married; and sure that without a doubt we have made the correct choice in each other . . .”

“Absolutely, Elizabeth. There is no doubt at all in my mind.”  He watched her thinking and began to understand.  “Are you proposing that we actually treat this time as an engagement?”

“There is more to marriage than just loving each other, I think.  We have that in abundance, what we need to learn is . . .”

“Everything else.”  He laughed and sighed when she nodded.  “I have very little to draw upon, my examples were poor, and I was a boy when my mother died.  I barely remember my parents together.”

“Well you have seen my example.”  She tilted her head when he pursed his lips and looked down at the floor.  “Mr. Darcy, I do believe that you are thinking before speaking.”   

Hearing the laughter in her voice, Darcy’s smile bloomed and he looked up to see his Lizzy’s eyes sparkling at him.  Gone was the quiet teary woman who had lain in his arms all night.  His heart skipped a beat.  An engagement was a fine idea for an engaged couple, but they were married, and by God, it was time that they acted like it!  “Dearest . . .”  He spoke urgently, “Must we pretend a pregnancy at all for you?  If we are taking the baby as a ward, would it matter what the reason is?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened, she had never seen him so animated.  “I . . . I am not sure, Fitzwilliam.  We are newlyweds, even I know that it is couples who have gone years without producing a child who adopt, and why would you take on a child when you have yet to start your own family and wish to provide for them?”

“But is that not what we are doing?”

“No, we are trying to cheer me after a loss, and trying to conceive another.”  

His head wagged.  “But that is just it, love.  We are not expecting to adopt the child, just keep it from the orphanage until our friend is on his feet again.”  He raised his brows.  “There truly is no need for this theatrical production, not for you. 
Think about it!
   Your condition, pregnant or no is immaterial!”

Elizabeth’s hand went to her mouth.  “Oh Will . . .” Darcy scooped her up and spun her around the room again.  She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “You are mad!” 

“I
am
mad, I am mad with wanting you.”  Darcy stopped moving but refused to set her down.  “We will see Samuel and Uncle in a few days; between them they should know something of the legalities.  Just a few more days, love.  And we will know for certain.”  Elizabeth held his face and Darcy’s gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth.  “And then love . . . No more holding back.”  His face broke into a huge smile, “Unless you would prefer we wait until Valentine’s Day?  Act as any other well-behaved engaged couple should?” 

“Oh, like all of the other engaged couples who share a bed every night?”  She laughed into his twinkling eyes.  “I have had some foolish ideas but that one was the worst of them all!”

“You do not have foolish ideas, Lizzy.  I know that we have rushed everything, I know that we have so much to learn and do, but Elizabeth . . .”  He looked at her pleadingly and nearly cheered when she nodded and smiled.  “I was a fool for ever thinking I could possibly survive until July and not make you mine.”  They both sighed and when Darcy at last set her down, they immediately embraced each other. 

“Must we wait to speak to your uncle?” 

Darcy would have laughed at her impatience but when he tilted his head, he saw that she speaking to his waistcoat, and that her voice had become very soft.  Wondering why she would seemingly retreat now, Darcy closed his eyes and images of their wedding night began playing through his mind, and he remembered being amazed with how relaxed she was, how willing, how open.  He realized that she was free to relax that night because she knew that nothing else would happen.  In his battle with the condom the night before, he had forgotten that she had been left alone for so long anticipating his appearance.  Was she frightened still, despite her desire? 
Of course!  Her determination to reassure me last night usurped her own nerves.  Her courage rose in the face of my devastation.  She put me first.

Testing his theory, he spoke slowly, “I think that I would feel better knowing without a doubt that we are free to move forward with this solution before risking the absolute elimination of any others.  What do you say we stop by and speak to Samuel at his office tomorrow?  If he is unsure he may investigate and be ready with a definitive answer when we join him at Uncle’s home for dinner.”  He smiled to see her nod and kissed her temple.  “I am certain without a doubt that we have found the answers to our prayers, and knowing that, I am . . . feeling quite nervous.”