Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (16 page)

“Oh.”  Darcy paused.  “That is fine.”

“Yes, sir.”  Hill offered him a pair of Mr. Bennet’s slippers, but they were hopelessly small.  Apologizing, he promised to hurry and left the room. 

Blowing out his cheeks, Darcy looked down at his stocking-clad feet and then ran his hands over the unfamiliar fabric of the breeches.  “Muslin, Mr. Darcy.  Lizzy made me those.”  Mr. Bennet entered from the bedchamber.  “Now what do you think of the workmanship?”

“Lovely.”  He said positively.

“She was fifteen.”  Mr. Bennet smiled a little.  “She is significantly better now, alas, I am still too short for them.” 

“Forgive me for intruding into your private rooms.  Mrs. Bennet . . .”

“Mrs. Bennet is making sure that her future son lives through to the wedding.  On Sunday you have her leave to drop dead.”  He chuckled to see Darcy’s shock.  “Forgive me, sir.  It begged to be said.”

“I find any humour in regards to this wedding to be in ill-taste sir, particularly when I have been informed by Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst of your outrageous behaviour.  How dare you make sport of Elizabeth’s feelings?  How dare you keep the news of our engagement secret?  I would think that you would have sent your wife to stand in the public square and cry the news, or at the least inform your neighbours at church!  Is not the short duration of our attachment cause for question?  Why make it worse by delaying the announcement until the papers deigned to print it?  And do not tell me that you were unaware of the announcement, sir.  I know enough of you that you likely poured over those papers every day looking for them.  What did you do, hide them from your wife?  I find it incredible that she did not say anything until the news was told at the dinner party.  I do not understand, sir!”

“I wished to meet Mr. Collins.  He was to arrive Monday, and I wanted to know for certain that I had done well for Lizzy.”  He said tiredly and sank down into a chair.  “I had bargained with him, you know that.”

“That letter was no contract, sir.  You owed him nothing.  And sir, I know that it was not just Elizabeth who you were thinking about.”

“Yes.”  Mr. Bennet glanced up.  “I know that as well, and our conversation of Saturday was fresh in my mind which is why I wished for Lizzy to meet him.  I wanted to witness her unbiased reaction, to be sure that I did not cheat her of someone she could love.  If you recall sir, you told me you did not love her.”

Darcy started.  “I did say that, yes.”  Gathering himself, he cleared his throat.  “I have not had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Collins yet, so my impression remains the one of his letter.  Tell me, in person; is he . . . not a sycophant?  Is he possessed of great beauty and . . . charm?”

“Hardly.”

“And Elizabeth did not faint dead away when he looked at her?”

“You are overly dramatic, sir.”

“You are the one suggesting love at first sight, Mr. Bennet, not I.  Well, was Elizabeth suddenly clamouring to end her engagement to me?  I ask sir, because just now she ran down the stairs and practically into my arms.  She was tearful and had been for quite some time.  I believe that confirms . . .”

“Into your arms.”  Mr. Bennet said softly and studied the younger man, whose blush was not just a symptom of anger.  “Well, well.  Mr. Darcy, I do not know you, was it unreasonable to wait and see if you would return?”

“Perhaps I would feel more forgiving if you did not take as gospel the word of another man you do not know.”  Darcy leaned forward.   “What in heaven’s name possessed you to believe George Wickham?”

“You do know him!”

“I despise him.”  Darcy spat.  “But I never cheated him.  He has harmed my family deeply, unforgivably, how dare you take his word over mine!  How can you listen to a complete stranger?  Unless . . . of course, I am a fool.  You wanted to hear a bad report to keep Elizabeth here.”

“I would not say that I wanted it, but it did help to slow down the race to the altar, at least in my mind.  Lizzy refused to tolerate Mr. Wickham’s claims, much as you did.”

“I have always admired Elizabeth’s good sense.”  Darcy nodded with satisfaction.

“I wonder . . .” Mr. Bennet shrugged.  “If Mr. Wickham had spoken to Lizzy instead of me, before you proposed . . .”

“She is not so credulous.”  Darcy stated positively.

“She might have been if she cared for you and was disappointed by your behaviour in some way.”  He raised his brows and saw Darcy’s contract as he instantly thought of his insult that began and nearly ended everything with her. 
‘You are the . . .’  What did you think when you first saw me, Elizabeth?  Before I opened my mouth?

“What has he done, sir?”  Mr. Bennet asked and brought him back from his thoughts.  Darcy’s face coloured and he snapped.

“You have proven that I cannot trust you.  No, I will not share my secrets with you.  Just know this; he is a dangerous and wicked man.  He uses his heroic good looks and cultivated charm to take in countless women and foolish men.  Young, very young women.”  He drew breath and clenched his fists.  “Did you witness him touching Elizabeth?”

“He kissed her hand.”

“I will kill him.”   Darcy growled.  “That is how it begins, a kiss to the hand, a wink, a soft voice, and the next thing she knows, she is climbing onto a carriage . . .” His face grew darker and he strode around the room, trying to regain his composure.  “He
touched
her!” 

“I think that it is safe to say that Elizabeth was unimpressed with him, and is unlikely to entertain any thoughts of abandoning her home for a life with an itinerant unemployed potential soldier.”

“He is out of money . . . no, he is hiding.”  Darcy spoke to himself.  “Hiding from me, possibly my uncle . . . what has he heard, he has probably been in London since . . .” Lapsing into silence, he stared out at the rain. 

“Mr. Darcy?

“Mr. Darcy.” 

The knock on the door startled them both and they stared at it dumbly for a moment until it came again.  “Come.”  Mr. Bennet called.

Hill entered with Darcy’s boots and Elizabeth appeared right behind him.  “Papa, Mr. Darcy . . .” She bit her lip and scanning the room, shyly looked to Darcy’s feet then blushed when she saw his stockings, and then started.  “Fitzwilliam!  What are you wearing?”  She looked up to his face.  The blush that had crept up his cheeks as he imagined seeing her nearly nude body again gave way to a shy smile of his own.

“You made these, I believe.”

“Oh Papa, could you not give him something better?  Why on earth do you still have these?”  She walked in and placed her hands on her hips.  “You do not look like yourself.”

“I am proud to wear them.”  Darcy took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I promised you a truthful conversation, Elizabeth.  Is there somewhere of privacy in this house where we may talk?  It might take some time.”  She watched his lips barely graze her skin. 

“Perhaps . . . Papa, may we use your bookroom?”  Elizabeth tore her eyes from Darcy’s steady gaze.  “Please?”

Mr. Bennet nodded.  “Yes, I cannot deny this request. I know that this is a very serious conversation, although I have no idea of the subject.” 

“Thank you, sir.”  Darcy turned back to Elizabeth with a small smile.  “Would you meet me there?  I would like to finish my conversation with your father.  I will not be a moment.”

“I will ask for some tea, your hands are cold.”  He nodded and regretfully, watched her let go and leave the room, looking backwards as she closed the door behind her. 

Darcy closed his eyes for a moment then turned back to Mr. Bennet.  “Sir, if the settlement were here rather than in my chambers at Netherfield, and you had signed it, I would not hesitate to take Elizabeth to the church and marry her this moment.  Your conduct this week has been selfish at the least, however,” He paused and searched for the words, “I know the truth of your circumstances, I know the . . . confusion and . . . desperation that is often inspired by fear, having witnessed a similar circumstance in my own life, so I can give you some absolution for that.  Further, I understand your desire to have Elizabeth meet Mr. Collins without prejudice, and . . . I deeply appreciate you keeping your truth to yourself.  Knowing the loyalty that Elizabeth shows to her loved ones, I fear that I would still be very much alone in my troubles at this moment, and she would be . . .”

“Approaching a life she would regret every day.”  Mr. Bennet stated bluntly. 

“I pray that when we are finished with our conversation, she does not feel that way about me.”  Darcy looked down at the boots and resignedly put them back on, and bowed to Mr. Bennet before leaving the room.

Chapter 6

 
“J
ust tell me, Fitzwilliam.”  Elizabeth reached for the hand that was unconsciously twisting the ring.

Darcy stopped his movement.  “I want you to know that I am not usually so uneasy.  It is something about you . . .” Seeing her shy smile, he entwined their fingers.  “Keep in mind that the moment I proposed I was in a state of utter despair for so many reasons.  Some you may have already guessed from your hellish week.”

Her smile disappeared.  “My father promising me to Mr. Collins?”

“Yes.”  Darcy tightened his grip.  “He intended to have you marry very quickly.”

“How quickly?”  She whispered.

“Almost as soon as we are, well before Christmas.” 

“Oh . . .” Her hand went to her mouth.  “Oh my . . .” Determined not to cry, she drew courage from his grasp. “I had guessed his intentions but I do not know why he wished this for me.  I suppose that if you had not intervened, I would have had little choice.”

“He may have entertained your objections.”  He said softly.

“No, I can tell by the way you are clutching my hand, if you had not overheard what you did and determined that my cousin was in fact exactly what I have come to see . . . I would have been Mistress of Longbourn one day.  I . . . I should be grateful that my father wished to assure my future in such a way.”  She squeezed her eyes shut.  “I make it sound so cold.”

“No colder than your father forcing you into a loveless marriage with a man you cannot abide, Elizabeth.  Marriage is mostly a business, whether it is the royals or a tradesman, you know that.”  He waited and hearing no response, he added shyly, “At least it seems that you can tolerate me a little.”  Tilting his head he saw a small smile.

“A little.”  She saw his slight smile appear. “Tell me the secret that moved you to act.  It concerns your sister, does it not?”

“How did you . . .” He stopped.  “Yes.” 

Elizabeth felt his tension and pulling herself together, determined to be strong for him.  “Just tell me, Fitzwilliam, there are no solutions unless the problem is exposed, then we may talk about it.” 

Darcy sighed resignedly.  “I have been trying my hardest to hide this for months, and here you wish to expose it to the light of day.  Very well.”  He drew a breath and began, “My sister Georgiana, who you heard about incessantly from Miss Bingley . . .”

“She is fifteen, about my height or a little taller, and greatly accomplished.”  Elizabeth recited.

“Yes.  And she left her companion and friends at Ramsgate to elope with George Wickham.”  Elizabeth gasped.  “He took her to a village near the Scottish border, but never actually crossed over.  There he found someone to perform a sham ceremony.  She believed she was in love and married.  I believe that emotion did not last much longer than the first weeks, but I do not know for sure.”  Darcy drew a shaking breath and was glad to have both of her hands around his.  “He took her to another village in York.  There they lived as husband and wife for four months while I and my cousin Richard and a dozen men we hired searched the country for her.  At last a letter came from Wickham asking for money in exchange for her return.  We immediately went to the village and found her in horrible conditions . . .” He felt Elizabeth’s support and blessed her.  “We took her away home to Pemberley.  We told nobody of the situation save my uncle who lives on the estate.  His wife came to Pemberley House to look after Georgiana who was too embarrassed to be near me.  To keep up the falsity that all was well and to keep visitors from the estate, I kept my promise to join Bingley at Netherfield.”

Elizabeth drew away.  “Well that explains your less than sociable demeanour when we first met.  Oh Fitzwilliam . . . Mr. Wickham?  The same who . . .”

“Spoke against me, yes.”

“Why would he not marry her?  Surely she has a substantial dowry?”

“We do not know.  We were grateful that she was not legally tied to him, but now . . .” He held her hands as tight as he could and whispered.  “She is carrying his child.  I learned of it the day I proposed to you.  All that week I had been battling with myself, trying to come to terms with my feelings for you and the fate I knew was to be yours, and with the news of the letter I came to a sudden, and I have been told, ridiculous solution.”  He paused and Elizabeth’s head popped up.

“You wish to pass your sister’s baby off as your own, and needed me to marry you as soon as possible to make the birth seem reasonable, if a little early?”  Elizabeth’s hands went to her mouth when he nodded and sat back, watching her.  “You were not going to tell me this until after the wedding?”

“Not at first.”

She withdrew further and stared at him.  “That certainly tells me the depth of your feelings!”

Darcy moved closer and spoke earnestly, “I said not at first, I obviously changed my mind, Elizabeth.” 

She was not listening.  “Yes, you were going to rescue me from Mr. Collins, but oh, how convenient that I might play . . . it is an act!  I will be an actress pretending motherhood!  And what am I to do, wear a pillow under my gown?  Of increasing size, sir?”  She stood and paced across the room.  “Will not your family, the staff, everyone of your acquaintance know . . .
My
family!  Surely they will know, and my mother cannot be counted on to keep such a secret!”

“I thought that we might go to my lodge in Scotland for the birth, and then return with the child.” 

“For a clever man, Mr. Darcy, this is the most foolish idea I have ever heard.”  Crossing her arms she glared at him until a thought struck her.  “What if this is a boy?”