Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (84 page)

Darcy smiled to himself when Elizabeth jumped and leaned to her shoulder.  “Surprised?”

She whispered to her hands.  “You could have warned me that there was an organ here.” 

“Oh no, I wanted to witness your pleasure with the discovery.”  They looked at each other and away.  Elizabeth moved a little closer, and he did the same.  They looked at each other again.  “Are you cold?”

“Freezing.” 

Behind the high walls of their box, Darcy felt safe enough to surreptitiously take her hands within his clasp.  “You
are
cold!  Why are you not wearing warmer gloves?  When we return home, it is to the library with you, with a blanket and toddy.” 

“And where will you be?” 

Darcy looked straight ahead.  “If you think I will be anywhere else, you are greatly mistaken.” 

“What of our guests?”

“Hang our guests.”  He muttered to his lap.  “I want my bride to myself.  I have denied myself of you for no good reason.”

Elizabeth smiled and tried to hide it in her shoulder.  Darcy’s mouth lifted when he caught sight of her sparkling eyes and leaned to her ear.  “What amuses you, Mrs. Darcy?  Tell me.”

“May all of our troubles be solved with a pointed conversation and a kiss.”

“As I think on it, to date, each one has.”  His caressing thumb over her hand never stopped its movement.  “Unfortunately we do have these wonderful guests, so the kisses will have to wait.”  He noticed Richard’s raised brow and glared at him.

Elizabeth whispered, “We could retire early and enjoy the toddies and blanket in our chambers.”

He shot her a look.  “May I remind you, Mrs. Darcy, that it is Christmas Day?”  Despite his remonstration, she felt his body shift closer again.

“And I have yet to receive my gift.  We always exchanged presents at breakfast.”  She said softly as she stared ahead.

“The comb does not count?  I must present it in person?”  He smiled when she nodded.  “But I cannot present it publicly, love.”  He caught her eye and smiled as he watched her cheeks warming.  The music stopped just as quickly as it had begun and conversation ended as the priest stepped up to the pulpit and looked down over his flock.  As he began to speak, Elizabeth only half listened to the familiar Christmas story.  The rest of her attention was spent contemplating the crowd.  These were her husband’s people, and now her people, to know and look after.  Tomorrow she would visit the tenants with him, delivering gifts that the staff had prepared, but next year, it would be she who would be making the decisions.  Again she felt overwhelmed by her new place, and felt heavily the eyes of the church upon her.  This was entirely different from the scrutiny at St. George’s in London.  Darcy’s hand squeezed hers and she saw his concerned eyes upon her. 
How can he read me so easily?
 

Hearing the cue to rise and sing, she and Darcy reluctantly gave up the warmth of their near embrace to stand.  His rich baritone joined her soprano, and their voices were nearly lost amidst the sound of the congregation.  Elizabeth listened to his performance, feeling privileged to see this side of him. Darcy had never sung in Meryton, but here he felt safe to express himself. 
I seem to learn something new of you every day.

Darcy, in his turn, felt his chest swell as Elizabeth, accompanied by the organ and the inspiration of the choir, gave full range to the lovely voice that had so entranced him that evening at Lucas Lodge.  There she had been embarrassed into performing, but seemed almost defiant in her determination to do well.
Before me
, he suddenly realized with pleasure.  He heard it then, that voice that might have made her a heralded performer in Covent Garden, but instead, he thought happily,
She performs for me alone
.

They returned to their seats and immediately resumed their close arrangement.  Darcy leaned to her ear, “I have said it before, but you do belong with the angels.”

“Oh.”  He could see her blush and entwined their fingers.  “Not for many years, I hope.” 

When the service ended and everyone stood, the sound of pew doors opening and swinging shut echoed throughout the ancient chamber as the organ swelled with the postlude and the voices of the congregation rose into a mixture of indistinguishable buzzing.  Darcy looked to see Georgiana on Samuel’s arm and smiled at her reassuringly before turning back to Elizabeth to speak shyly, “You do not mind?”

“Visiting your parents?  Of course not.”  While the rest of the party went out to the carriages, the Master and Mistress of Pemberley made slow progress in the opposite direction as she was introduced to seemingly everyone in the church.  She marvelled at Darcy knowing every name, and felt the sincerity of his expressions of concern when he asked how each family was faring. 
How could I have ever thought poorly of you?
  This was the man she was so anxious to know, but it would wait until their guests were gone.  When they were at last free of the crowd, they approached a beautifully carved crypt near the altar. 

“Father had this carved when Mother died; she was placed within nearly a year later.”  His voice was very soft.  “I . . . I can still hear the sound of his mourning from behind the closed door of the study.”  He removed his gloves and placed his hand upon the cold stone.  “Happy Christmas, Father.  Happy Christmas, Mother,” he whispered and took Elizabeth’s hand in his.  “This is Elizabeth.  I love her.”  His eyes brightening, he looked down to their entwined fingers.  “Please look after her for me.”

“Will . . .” Elizabeth whispered.  He shook his head and looked up to her with a watery smile and back down again.  She placed her hand over his on the stone.  “I love your son, and I promise I will take care of him for you.”

“Lizzy . . .” Darcy shook his head.  “Thank you.”  He blinked and covered his emotion by busying himself with his gloves.  “I . . . I wanted you to meet them.”  He shrugged and laughed self-consciously, “I know it is ridiculous, obviously they are not here, but . . .”  He sighed and at last looked up to see her eyes and was grateful to see neither laughter nor pity.  “I cannot tell you how much I have missed being part of a family.   Everything changed when Mother died; every day was no different from the one before.”  Glancing at Anne’s name carved in the stone, he held out his hand to Elizabeth.  “I am a fool.”

“No you are not.  This is why you tolerate the family that is in our home now.”  Taking his hand in her grasp, she touched the stone again.  “Your parents’ bodies are here, but their spirit is all around you.”  Darcy looked to her eyes and felt her love encompassing him.  “Your parents, all of these ancestors who fill this church are with you all of the time.  They are in your land, they are in our home, and one day, they will reside within our children.”

“Elizabeth . . . Lord help me, I am trying not to weep.”  He looked up to the candles burning above them.  “I believe in heaven.”

“Then they are there listening.”  She whispered and heard his swallowing as he squeezed her hand tightly. 
Dear man.
  Elizabeth moved him away from the crypt.  “I cannot imagine your experience.  I miss my family today, this is my first time parted from them at Christmas, and our guests are not the same.”

“No.”  He smiled and regained control of his emotions.  “Not by a long shot.”

“No.”  Elizabeth laughed.  “But they are family, and ours.  And I suppose we must go and join them.” 

“I cannot complain, I invited them.”  His smile faltered.  “I am sorry for forgetting your loss as well, are you . . . are you suffering today?  Being away from home?”

“I am home.” 

“Elizabeth . . .”

“I
am
home.”   She leaned against his shoulder as they walked down the aisle.  “I cannot explain it any better than that.”

“WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND?”  Hurst settled into a chair by the fire with a glass of port and a very full stomach.  “Mind you, I will be asleep soon so speak quickly.”

Bingley smiled and looked down at the stickpin he was twirling between his thumb and forefinger.  “I am surprised Caroline bought me anything.”

“Oh, I imagine it was an afterthought when she bought those hideous bracelets she was jangling around.  Unfortunately, she loaded Louisa with a set of them as well.”  He laughed.  “I will be able to hear them coming at fifty paces now!”

“There is something comforting about that, I suppose.”  Bingley looked up at him, then setting the jewel into the folds of his neck cloth; he sighed and crossed his legs.  “I feel at odds.”

“Hmm?”

“Something is missing.”

“Ah.”

“You are no help at all.  Can you do nothing else but make noises?” 

Hurst yawned and placed his hands over his belly.  “Very well, what is missing?”

“I do not know.”

“Yes you do or you would not have broached the subject.”  He chuckled and closed his eyes.  “Well, you did not fall in love at the ball, so that is a promising sign.  Do you miss her?”

“Who?”  One eye opened and Bingley blushed.  “Oh.”

“Very well, you have not stopped thinking of her.  What shall you do?”  Drumming his fingers on his belly, he lifted his chin.  “Have you written to Darcy lately?”

“No.”  Bingley laughed.  “Darcy gives me so much grief over my letters that I try to keep them at a minimum; although his are so long that I daresay a week is not enough time to finish one.”

“He was bored before, I bet he never will be again.  But in case he is, why not entertain him with deciphering a letter.  I imagine by now his wife might wish to escape his clutches for a half hour or so?  Perhaps you might ask for advice?  He has not dropped you from his acquaintances since marrying has he?”

“No.”  Bingley’s eyes widened.  “Would he?”

“He could, but he has not, so send the man a note and perhaps inquire as to the health of the residents of Longbourn?  You will have an answer before our supposed return date to Hertfordshire.”

“Supposed.”  Rubbing his forehead, Bingley sighed.  “I will be returning alone, if at all.”

“So go write your letter.”  Hearing the ladies approaching, he settled comfortably and closed his eyes.  “And I will sleep.”

“ANOTHER EVENING OF JOYFUL FRIVOLITY.”  Elizabeth whispered against Darcy’s shoulder as the family moved from dinner into the music room.  “If you become any tenser, I fear that your brow will permanently be fixed in this state of unexpressed fury.”

Darcy shot her a glance.  “It is not so bad, is it?”

“It is not so good.  If this is what passes for normal discourse when higher society visits in country houses, I am afraid that I will not be interested in ever taking part in any of it.  Either that or we will have to be more selective when extending invitations.  And I thought that the atmosphere at Netherfield was uncomfortable.”  She leaned her head on his arm and was glad to hear him chuckle.  “Does your uncle press for money or marriage this evening?”

“It was not my uncle trying me this time, love.”  Darcy’s lips brushed her hair.  “The honours go to the viscount tonight.” 

“He is so odd, Fitzwilliam.  I cannot understand him.  One moment I am made to feel like a scullery maid and the next, he is . . .”  She stopped speaking and Darcy tilted his head to catch a glimpse of her eyes.  He saw confusion and worry.  Elizabeth noticed his concern and smiled a little.  “I was woolgathering.”

“Over my cousin?”  He asked softly.

Immediately she laughed.  “You surely are not jealous!  After all, he is not a marble statue, which reminds me, you have yet to take me on a tour of the gallery.  I am affronted that Miss Bingley has enjoyed its pleasures and yet you have left me ignorant.” 

“We agreed to do that in the daylight when we were alone, remember?”  Darcy studied her eyes and saw her smile falter under his serious gaze.  “And no, my cousin most assuredly is not a statue, he is flesh and blood.”  His thumb rubbed over her fingers.  “He makes you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, but . . . I cannot say why.”  She shook her head and smiled.  “Ignore me; I am uncomfortable with so much here.”

“I know, dearest.”  His head tilted.  “But not with me?”

“Not you.  Never you.” 

“Thank heaven.”  Darcy brushed her temple with his lips.  “They will be gone soon, I will be myself again, and then we can go about comforting you.”  His eyes took on their familiar twinkle and he was glad to hear her laugh. 

“I am determined to make the rest of this visit joyful, dear.  You deserve a happy Christmas, as does Georgiana.  I have not forgotten your excitement in London, how much you looked forward to this.  I refuse to let that expectation die.  I
will
have you happy.”

“Mrs. Darcy!”  Richard appeared and grinning, pointed up to the chandelier.  “Mistletoe!” 

“Oh dear!”  Elizabeth laughed when he took her hands and leaned forward to kiss her.  “I was wondering who would be first to make use of the decorations!”

“Do you think I would pass the chance?”  He looked at his unhappy cousin and back to Elizabeth.  “Shall I give him something to truly be jealous about?”  His lips puckered and Darcy growled.  Immediately Richard turned and grabbing Darcy’s face, kissed his cheek.  “Ha!”

“Very funny.”  Darcy rubbed his face.  “There, a card game is starting, please go join it.”  Richard held out his hand expectantly and Darcy’s mouth dropped open.  “No!  I am not giving you an allowance to play at cards in my house!  Is no member of your family capable of spending time here without looking for a handout?” 

Richard laughed and clapped his back.  “Just getting a rise out of you.” 

“He does not need your help for that, Richard.  Any number of people seem capable.”   Elizabeth smiled as she reclaimed Darcy’s hand.

“No, he just needs you.”  His lips twitched and he winked at Darcy.  “Oh, and bless you for my gift of love.”  He called over his shoulder as he turned and strolled away. 

Darcy’s pale cheeks, already flushed from the confrontation, pinked a little more when Elizabeth looked to him.  Her hand moved to her mouth.  “Will . . . did . . . was he referring to . . . a rise . . .” She looked down at his breeches and back up to his face, which had grown redder.  “Oh my!”