Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (91 page)

“Pardon?  Georgiana?”

“Father put it in my head that she was a possible solution . . .”  He shrugged.  “I vaguely remember some of my friends telling me that they would never let their fathers marry their sisters to me, even with the title . . . they’ve seen my cock . . .”

“So you are in the habit of waving it around places other than libraries for all to see?”  Gladney’s brow creased and Richard’s eyes rolled.  “Our cousin’s money would put things right.”  Richard watched him arching his back and grimacing.  “I certainly have heard Father suggesting the same to me, so I am sure you heard it far more frequently.  Anything else interesting in your memories?”

“I suppose.  I do not know . . . I have flashes of things.”  Rubbing his face again, he blinked at his brother.  “Lord, I am tired.”

“After a decade of abusing yourself, I am surprised you are living.  Well, whatever your, or Father’s plans for your future, they decidedly do not include Georgiana, and after your behaviour yesterday, Darcy wants you gone from here.”  He laughed harshly, “He had such hopes for a joyous and lasting reunion with his estranged family, and instead he received a clear reminder of why he had the good sense to keep you all at arms’ length.  How defeated he must feel this morning.”

“I am sorry for that.  I remember the good times we all had as boys.”

“Amazing the clarity that comes with an opium-free morning.  You
are
sorry, a sorry excuse for a good man’s son.  You owe Father much, beginning with an apology.”

“Enough, Richard.”

“No I will speak to you now before the craving for your morning dose takes over your every thought.”  Gladney’s eyes widened and he licked his lips nervously.  Richard shrugged.  “I will not let up.  At least for the remainder of my visit to Matlock, I will ride you mercilessly to stay sober.  If you fail after I am gone again . . . well, at least I will have tried.  Now, as for our cousin and host, I suggest that if you do not feel up to grovelling as our parents have learned to do, you stay out of his way until we depart, but grovelling would not be a bad idea anyway.  Staying away from Elizabeth should go without saying, don’t you think?” 

“Fine.” 

“No powders of any kind either.  You are hereby cut off.”

Gladney paled.  “You cannot do that to me, Richard.  You do not understand, I need . . .”

Richard snarled.  “I will tell you what you need.  You need to get yourself cured of this addiction and I think that you should prepare yourself to be married to Cousin Anne.”

“
Pardon
?” 

“I just left Father in Darcy’s library, he was composing a message to Aunt Catherine.  Her prize was Darcy but I doubt she would fight hard against making Anne a countess.”  Richard climbed to his feet and nodded to his gaping brother.  “Father has given up on you.  He wants you to give up the title to me.  While I would appreciate the early retirement from the army, you cannot be declared insane and I have no desire to take what is rightfully yours while you live.  Your problem comes from your snuffbox, not your brain.”  He moved his chair back to its place under the writing desk and gripping the rail stared out at the snowy landscape.  “I am grateful that I was forced to occupy myself with a profession.  I believe that I may have become like you very easily.”  He looked back to his brother.  “But if you do give in to this addiction, or shame the family further than you already have, I will take on your duties with pride while you rot in your grave or Bedlam, whichever comes first.”  Tapping the chair he turned and stepped to the door.  “Think about it, Bertie.  Stop now before you have to buy new teeth from some desperate soul to fit into your miserable mouth.”  He did not wait for an answer; instead he left the room and closed the door behind him.  Richard closed his eyes for a minute before shaking his head and setting off down the hallway.

Turning a corner, he spotted Cathy paused with her head pressed to the wooden trim of the door to the master’s chambers.  It was ajar and she was obviously watching the activity within.   He blew out his cheeks, and looking to see if any servants or family were about, quietly approached and stood behind her.  Inside of the room, he could hear Darcy’s indistinct rumble punctuated with Elizabeth’s soft tones and over Cathy’s head he could see the couple.  Elizabeth was affectionately arranging Darcy’s neck cloth.  His arms were loosely around her waist and they were smiling and laughing together. 

“Will you knock?” 

Cathy jumped.  “What are you doing?  Sneaking up on me!”

“Oh, so you were not wishing to enter?  Eavesdropping, then?”  He folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

Her face reddened.  “I was not, I . . .” 

“True confessions, sister, dear.”  He grabbed her arm and dragged her, protesting; down the hall to an empty bed chamber.  “Lord, I feel like a damned nanny today.  What is your problem?  Mother will have your hide if I tell her I found you lurking outside of that door.”

“Mother.”  She huffed and folded her arms.  “She wants me to cosy up to Elizabeth.  
She
is to help
me
look good this Season!”  Richard laughed loud and hard.  “You see!  It is ridiculous!”

He caught his breath and grinned.  “Yes it is, but there is merit in it.  Elizabeth needs help, there is no doubt, but so do you.  Mother wants you settled.”

“Who does not know that?”  She looked impatiently out of the window.

“Did you truly wish for Darcy?”

    “No.”  She said shortly.

Richard’s head tilted and his smile grew.  “No, you did not want him until he was irrevocably gone.  What a child you are, despite your advanced years.”  He chuckled at her glare and tilted his head towards the door.  “What were you listening to?  Are you wondering what it would be to marry a man who laughs?”

“What is wrong with that?”

“Nothing, but I doubt that you would draw him out like Elizabeth does.”  He watched her eyes cast down and his smile softened.  “None of us have seen him so happy until we saw him with her.  You know that.”

“Of course I do.  Besides, I was not raised to display . . . unbecoming levity.” 

“No, you were not.”  He sighed.  “Neither was Darcy, nor I.  More and more I am grateful for my time away from the ancestral estate.” 

Cathy sank onto the bed.  “I never truly expected Fitzwilliam to take me; I always thought it would be Anne.  That is what was expected.”

“Would you have minded if he had gone with her?”

She thought for a moment and smiled.  “No.  He would have been miserable with her and I would have rejoiced in it.”

“Sweet thing, you are.” 

Cathy shrugged.  “I suppose.” 

“So find yourself the man you would have had anyway.  Darcy is far better off being the lovesick cow with Elizabeth than being miserable with just about any other woman I can name.  He is fortunate at last in his father’s death.”  His head tilted when she looked at him quizzically.  “Why have you held back from marrying?  Because Father had hopes with you and Darcy?”

“Of course, marrying me to an outsider exposes the embarrassment of what Matlock has become.”  Her eyes brightened and she dabbed at them with her handkerchief. 

Richard cupped his hand to his ear, “Good Lord, is that a woman’s heart I hear beating in your breast?  Compassion?  From you?”

“Why am I even talking to you?”  She snapped.

“Because I am all that you have, it seems.”  Richard studied her.  “Did nobody pursue you who had . . . the milk of human kindness in his veins?”  Her eyes rolled.  “Hmm, well, you do not inspire such emotion.”

“No.”

“Would you really have the patience for it?  I always thought you were a bit of a tartar.”

“And you are a . . .”  She stopped.  “I am too much of a lady to say.”

He laughed and walked forward to give her a hug.  “That is it, sister, dear, you go on believing that.”

“Am I so awful?”

“I have no idea.  I know the little girl, not the woman.  I have not been in your company for more than a few weeks at a time for years.  Maybe you and Elizabeth might become friends.”  She laughed derisively.  “Or not.  But I daresay you both could use one.”  He walked to the door and smiled back at her.  “Of course, who wants to be friends with a miserable spinster?”  Cathy grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him.  He ducked and laughed.  “You will have to do better than that if you are to catch a man!”  Running out of the room before she could find something else to throw, he laughed and walked back down the hall.  He slowed as he walked past Darcy’s bedchamber and seeing the door was open, he shrugged.  “We will be out of your hair soon, Cousin.”   

WICKHAM STOOD and walked around his prison, he knew the dimensions all too well now.  Eight steps to the door, six to the chamber pot, four to the washstand, ten to the bed.  He ran his hand through his hair and stared out at the grey sky, then walked as far as his shackles allowed and leaned on the wall to listen to the activity within the next chamber.  His neighbour clearly was a man who did nothing by halves, if the gasping of his partner was any indication.  The creaking of the bed and the constant barrage of swearing on his part indicated that a most vigorous coupling was well underway.  Wickham closed his eyes and opening his breeches, joined in vicariously as he stroked along.  He tried to imagine it was Georgiana beneath him, but that was quickly abandoned.  Instead he conjured a face from the past, and found release along with the two in the next room.  He laid his head back against the wall as his pounding heart once again found its rhythm, then hearing the voices of his neighbours; he wiped his hand and refastened the fall, just in time to hear heavy boots and a key turning in the lock.  The door opened and Christmas appeared with a grin. 

“Hey!”  He laughed and leaned on the door, scratching his crotch.  “Did you hear that?  He got her good!  She’s a nice one; you want a piece before she goes?  She’s a bit of mess, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.” 

“No . . . no, I wouldn’t mind . . . but dinner did not sit well.”  He touched his stomach.

“Suit yourself.”  Christmas shrugged and closed the door.  “I figure you must be healed from my ball breaking by now.  Besides, we are partners of sorts.”  They heard the girl protesting loudly when she was rousted from the room, but in a minute the door was slammed shut and all was quiet again.

“A partner who will gladly kill me.”  Wickham flinched when Christmas took out a knife and twirled it around.  “Where is the judge?  Will you go to see him?”

“Why?  I have no reason to see him.  He said wait for word.  I’m waiting.” 

“I wish that you would go.  Just to make sure . . .”

“He seemed pretty clear to me.  I’m not doing anything to stop him from letting my brother out of that hole.  You’re just getting cold feet.  You’re damned lucky he didn’t kill you.”  He pointed the blade at Wickham.  “Gawd you are a fool!  Why couldn’t you just do what he asked and been done with it?  I’d have grabbed my money and been long gone.”  He went to the door.  “Now don’t get any funny ideas of getting away when we travel, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had people watching us to make sure we don’t disappear.  We’ll be sleeping together on the trip and your leg will be shackled to mine.  Just don’t get any lovin’ feelings during the night, or I’ll just have to kill you.”

Wickham watched him go and hearing the lock turn, glanced at the fire and picked up the piece of coal he had used as a pencil.  “I wonder if the letter has reached Darcy.”  He sighed and closing his eyes, thought of the prostitute he had refused that night.  Georgiana’s face appeared in his mind’s eye.  “I wonder if you have any thoughts of me.” 

GEORGIANA GASPED and wrapping her arms around herself, rocked back and forth.  “It is true.”  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she felt the strange fluttering and finally accepted what it was.  “We are going to have a baby, George.”  She started to shake and swallowed.  “I wish that I could tell you.  Where are you?  Would you be happy?”  Wiping her eyes, she went to stand by the window and watched as the Matlock carriages started down the long snow-covered drive.  The deceiving sunshine made her think of a day, ages ago.

“It is a beautiful day, is it not my dear Georgie?”  Wickham smiled as he urged the pony pulling the little gig he had rented into a trot. 

“Oh yes!”  She smiled and looked over the cliffs to the sunlight dancing on the water below.  “I love it here!”

“More so than Pemberley?”

“You are here, George.”  She said shyly.

“That is true, my dear.”  He leaned and kissed her hand.  “I am here.” 

She closed her eyes and remembered the picnic they had that warm day, lying on a blanket under the spreading arms of a large elm tree where he had kissed her for the first time.  She could still remember the thrill of his eyes focussing on her mouth and the warmth of his handsome face coming ever nearer.  She had no idea what it meant when he kept smiling at her and leaning closer and closer.  How many times did she turn away, unsure, only to have him come again until at last he succeeded?  And once kissed, she happily let him have more as he told her over and over how beautiful she was.  It did not seem at all wrong, he was so gentle, so kind, and so shy with each of his wonderful touches, and then he stopped and said that they had to marry before they could enjoy more.  Feeling the flutter again, she hugged herself. 

Darcy and Elizabeth passed the door of the small room on their way upstairs.  Spotting his sister staring at the portraits he looked at his wife and whispered that he would meet her in a few minutes.  Elizabeth looked at Georgiana and squeezing his hand, let go and went on. 

“Georgiana.”  He called and she started.  “Would you please join me?”  He indicated a sofa and waited for her to be seated before closing the door and taking a chair.  He regarded her seriously, “I have a question to ask you.  I want absolute candour.”

“Yes, Brother.” 

“Did you purposely omit details of Elizabeth’s situation in the library with Albert when you fetched me yesterday?”  Seeing her blush and stare down at her hands, Darcy’s mouth pressed into a tight thin line.  “Why?”