Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (66 page)

“Do you want your brother released?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it will cost me nothing extra.”  Christmas swore and the judge tossed his purse to him.  “Here, take this for your expenses, if you hear nothing from me by Twelfth Night, then proceed.”  The man nodded and pocketing the heavy bag, walked away to stand by the door.  The judge looked back to Wickham’s pale face.  “My guard has ruined the surprise.  My original intention was to let you enjoy your private prison for the same four months that you held my niece, then give you to the colonel for his pleasure.” 

Wickham licked his lips.  “But if I kill Darcy I will be let go?  What changed your mind?”  

The judge was not listening; his hand went up to his brow.  “It is possible that something may come of my son and Georgiana over his visit to Pemberley and my plans may change.  In the meantime we will proceed as if all was a failure.”  The judge looked back to Wickham.  “You are clearly ill, and you are no good to me that way.  I will move you into a chamber upstairs.  You will have food, soap . . . and time to think of how you will succeed.  I want it done at Pemberley.  I want it to be an accident.  Darcy and his wife.”  He got up and pushed the chair across the room with a slow screech that sent a chill down Wickham’s spine. 

“How do you know I will not run off when you let me out of here?”

“Oh . . . Christmas will still be watching you, and will accompany you to Pemberley.  And then you will be free to go.”  He swallowed hard, and his mouth started to move as if he was chewing something.

“Maybe I would prefer to face Darcy.”  Wickham watched him cautiously for a reaction. 

The judge did not answer, his brow creased and confusion suffused his face as he seemed to freeze.  His hands balled into fists, his breathing came in laboured rasping pants, and then slowly his eyes focussed again, the pupils had almost returned to normal.  He blinked and held onto the chair rail as he tried to regain his bearings.  Five silent minutes passed and an entirely different man appeared. 

“Darcy.”  He pronounced slowly as overwhelming exhaustion crept over him.  “Darcy.   He was very ill; but he insisted that they keep their plans to travel to Pemberley.  His wife was beside herself with worry.  It was a mistake . . .” Looking up to the sunlight streaming in the window, he spoke softly, “I was determined to dislike her, but how can you hate a woman that your nephew clearly loves?  She reminds me so much of my dear wife.  She will be a wonderful mistress for Pemberley.  I never should have doubted him.”  Rubbing his hand over his temples, he squeezed his eyes shut against the aura that was blocking his vision and the odd smell that seemed to fill his nostrils.  A strange whining sound filled his ears and again his posture froze as his breathing became raspy once again as a second seizure took control.  Another five minutes passed.  Wickham made a noise and blinking, the judge stared at him blankly as he returned to his senses.  “Wickham?”  He looked around the room.  “Have we been talking long?”

“Long enough.”  Wickham said quietly.

The judge nodded.  “Good . . . I am not feeling well . . .” He put his hand to his stomach and walked to the door.  “Wash yourself Wickham; the stench of you is quite off-putting.” 

Outside, Christmas locked the door and joined him.  “So, just stick with the plan if I don’t hear from you.”

“Yes.”  Sobering in the cold air, he began to shake off the waning effects of the laudanum and the seizures, and felt more like himself.  “Yes, I think it is a good plan, he looks like the very devil does he not?  I cannot very well put him in Newgate, but this prison seems to be just as effective.”

“This is a palace compared to Newgate.  I’d like to see the colonel get a hold of him; I saw some of him at your nephew’s place.  I’d hate to be on the wrong end of his temper.” 

“Yes.”  Judge Darcy smiled slightly, his head clearing a little more, “I can only agree with you, there.  An excellent man.  Well, perhaps when we let our rat free, you can be the one to open the door to him.  As furious as my nephew is with Wickham, I would prefer to leave his punishment to a professional.” 

Christmas tilted his head.  “That is if I don’t hear from you . . .”

“Hmm?”  The judge was wondering why he felt so tired.  “Oh, yes, of course.”  Nodding, he set off up the stairs.  “Carry on.”

 

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND!  Mr. Bingley was to return!  What did Lizzy say in her letter?”  Mrs. Bennet demanded. The unending conversation had begun nearly upon the letter’s arrival Monday afternoon and had not stopped for two days.

Jane held back a sigh.  Mrs. Bennet had snatched the letter from her daughter’s hands, exclaimed over it, examined it, then proclaiming it incomprehensible, finally allowed Jane to have it back.  “He asked particularly after my health.”  She said softly, paying close attention to her stitching. 

“Then why does he stay away?  He would not ask such a thing if he was not interested in conveying his admiration for you!”  Fluttering her handkerchief, she exclaimed, “What is the good of having Lizzy married to his friend if she cannot influence her husband?  All he needs to do is say a word and Mr. Bingley would abandon Town!  Staying to please his sisters!”  She huffed.  “It only proves that Mr. Darcy is not the least attracted to Lizzy!  If she cannot turn his head a fortnight after the wedding, then she never will.  Do not get me wrong, I am pleased to have her married so very well and out of the house, but it just proves to you, he had a taste of milk before the wedding.  She shamed him to the altar, but he wants nothing more of her now!”

“Milk?”  Kitty asked.

“Why buy the cow when he can get the milk for free.”  Lydia whispered.

“Oh!”  Clasping her hands to her mouth, she giggled.

“I do not think it has anything to do with Lizzy and Mr. Darcy.  They are busy honeymooning.”  Lydia glanced at the corner of the room where Mary and Mr. Collins sat studying a book of sermons, and rolling her eyes she turned back to her mother.  “You have said so many times how wonderful London is!  Would you not want to stay there for all of the parties?  I would think that the Twelfth Night balls would be outrageously fun!”

“Well,” she hesitated; she had not actually been to London for years, “perhaps, but not if I had dear Jane waiting for me here!  Who will he dance with?  Would it not be his preference to see Jane wearing some fantastic mask and dancing across from him at these balls?  Who knows who might catch his eye?  This is dangerous!  No, Lizzy can easily remedy this.  I will write to her immediately and tell her to speak to her husband!”

“Lizzy is travelling, Mama.  She will arrive at Pemberley tomorrow.”  Jane spoke without looking up.  “Besides, Mr. Bingley was surely just being kind to his friend’s wife and inquiring after me.  Miss Bingley’s letter was quite clear that she hoped to remain in London beyond Twelfth Night, even into the Season.  If that is the case, they probably will not return until July or August.”

“Maybe you will meet at Pemberley?  Lizzy said she would have you visit, did she not?”

“I do not know, Kitty, but the Darcys will be returning in February.”  She sighed.  “And I am sure that Miss Darcy will be with them.”

“What difference does that make?”  Lydia demanded.

“Miss Bingley said in her letter that she has hopes of seeing Miss Darcy when they come.  That only makes sense, she has said over and over how lovely she is, and of course she is of a higher circle.  It would be good for them to have such a strong connection.”  Jane set down her sewing and stood.  “Excuse me.”   Tears pricked her eyes, and she left the drawing room in search of some place to compose herself.

“Would you like to come in, Jane?”  Mr. Bennet called to the shadow near the doorway.  She looked in and cautiously entered.  He coughed and cleared his throat, sitting up a little as he waved at the chair formerly used by Elizabeth. 

“Are you well, Papa?  You seem a little tired today.”  She settled into the chair and looked at him closely.

“Of course, I just was up too late reading.”  Seeing her smile, he sighed to himself.  Elizabeth never would have accepted such a simple explanation.  “I understand that your sister has sent you a letter?  Your mother has said something of it.  Repeatedly.”  His lips twitched when Jane looked uncomfortably at her lap.

“Oh . . . yes.  She will be arriving at Pemberley today, I believe.  She said it would be Wednesday.” 

“Is she happy?”

She looked up to his steady gaze.   “Yes, Papa, I believe so.  She confesses to being overwhelmed and unsure at times, but her confidence is growing.  Mr. Darcy has been doing his best to help her, and she describes him in the most glowing terms.” 

“I am glad of that.”  Mr. Bennet clasped his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes.   “They are alike but so far apart.”  He paused.  “I rather made a mess of things, did I not, Daughter?”

“You did not know Mr. Darcy would come along, Papa.  You were only trying to do what was best for Lizzy and the family.”  Jane smiled and he opened his eyes. 

“You are too easy on me.  What I did was selfish.  It may have been a great favour to the family, but it was not one to Lizzy, and . . . well, that is neither here nor there.  How is Mary getting on with Mr. Collins, do you think?”  Jane hesitated and he chuckled.  “Stop searching for diplomatic terms, just speak.”

“I think that they may be well suited in some ways.”

“But not in others?”

“I do not know, Papa.  I just cannot stop thinking that Mary was his last choice and he said he did not want her, but then changed his mind again when he was given no other option.  It does not portend well, but I pray she will be satisfied.” 

“Oddly enough, I think that she will be.  I only pray that she gives him a son quickly.”  Jane blushed and shifting uncomfortably, Mr. Bennet sat up.  “Now, what of your Mr. Bingley?”

“He is hardly mine, Papa.” 

“True, true.  Well, I would say if he has crossed you in love, then it is his loss, not yours.  Besides, young ladies enjoy being crossed in love!  No worries, my dear!  Lizzy will find you a rich man, and your mother will crow about it to all of her friends, good riddance to him.”  Jane nodded at her hands and rose from the chair.  Mr. Bennet watched her move to the door.  “I am glad that I will have one sensible daughter at home to comfort me.”

“Yes, Papa.” 

“Off you go then, see what you can do about calming your mother’s nerves.”   Mr. Bennet waited until she had closed the door before he at last gave in to a spasm of coughing, and reaching for the tepid tea that sat on his desk, drank it down and made a face.  “Terrible.”  He cleared his throat and looking out at the falling rain, rubbed at his chest.

 

“COME HERE . . .” Darcy nudged Elizabeth’s throat with his nose.  “Come here . . .”

“Will!”  She ducked her head and laughed.

“No, no . . .” He kissed her ear and captured her mouth when she looked up then groaned when she tucked her face back into his chest.  Slipping his hands behind her head and tilting it back, he smiled into her eyes and kissed her.  Their mouths lingered for a few heavenly moments before she broke away again.  “No, no . . . come back . . .” Determined, he kissed her cheeks and again their mouths met, this time his arms wrapped around her.  “You are not escaping.”

“What has possessed you?”  She whispered against his nibbling lips, and again they fell into a series of hungry kisses.  “Oh, Will . . . “

Darcy cheered on the inside, but kept up his attempts to pin down her mouth.  “
Kiss
me!” 

“We will be seen!  The door is wide open!”  She slipped her hands between them and gave a useless push. “Fitzwilliam!”  His hand slid down her back to her bottom, and holding firmly, lifted her hips to his.  Elizabeth moaned.

“Oh yes.”  He muttered against her lips, holding her fast and kissing deeply.  Elizabeth’s arms moved around his neck and he groaned, “Why did we only love each other once last night?”

“Because you are a gentleman, and we are staying in a public inn and did not wish to be heard.”  Darcy’s cheeks reddened.  Feeling the warmth, Elizabeth spoke against his ear as he returned to indulging his fascination with her throat.  “But I will tell you, Husband, I think that my aunt’s advice is absolutely correct.”

“Do you feel well?”  Standing perfectly still, he huskily spoke to her shoulder as his hand slid up her waist to her breast, but Elizabeth heard the worry in his tone.

“Yes, dear man.”  Darcy’s head lifted.  She caressed back his hair while tracing one finger over his little smile and read the relief in his gaze.  “Thank you for your patience and kindness.  I know it is unusual.”

“Lizzy . . .” He shook his head and sighed.  “I am no brute, I want you to love me, not tolerate me.”  Taking her hand, he kissed her fingers, then looking to her mouth; he licked his lips and resumed his happy occupation of devouring her.  Elizabeth held onto the lapels of his coat and started laughing.  Not in the least discouraged, he simply moved along her jaw to her ear.

“Who are you?”  She demanded between fits of giggles.  “Who is this playful little boy?” 

Darcy chuckled, and rubbed his hands down her back.  “I do not know.  Do you like him?”

“Very much.”  Her eyes sparkled, and softened when his nose rubbed against hers as his gaze became serious again.  “Will . . .” Darcy returned to the soft, slow kiss that sent shivers from her lips to her toes.  “Ohhhh.”  She breathed and swallowing, ducked her head back against his chest. 

“Come back . . .” He urged, and tilting his head, felt his entire body react to the sight of the dark vulnerable eyes of the woman he loved looking back at him.  “Dearest . . .” 

“Mr. Darcy?”  Parker’s throat cleared.  “Sir?”

Instantly, Elizabeth blushed and hid her face.  Darcy turned and shielded her protectively, and looking over his shoulder, saw his valet standing in the open doorway with his back turned.  “What is it, Parker?”

“Sir, the carriages are ready to depart, the team is hitched.” 

“Very good.  We will be right down.” 

“Yes, sir.”  Parker left the chambers and Darcy looked out of the window, assessing the sky.  Horses from the home stables had been brought to the inn the night before to meet them; a second carriage from Pemberley had been dispatched to take their luggage and the servants from the one hired to carry them this far.  In four hours, three if the roads were relatively clear, they would be home.  The predicted storm of two days ago had skirted south.  He knew how fortunate they were and that their travel had been relatively easy.  They should have left an hour earlier, but waking up that morning, he had felt far too good to let it end soon, and the glow on Elizabeth’s face was no trick of the firelight, she did not want to move from their embrace either.  It was only the entrance of their servants that kept them from again indulging in their newly realized desires.

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