Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (53 page)

“I did not!”  Wickham snapped and recoiled when he saw the man’s expression change again, in a flash he had moved from pain to fury, but still his pupils remained pinpricks as his emotions rose.

“You liked my innocent niece enough that you wanted to pretend to be her husband!”  Loud, deep, harsh laughter echoed off the walls.  “And here I thought you were the consummate actor, convincing a little girl that she was in love, when it was you who was affected!”

“What do you want?”  Wickham demanded.

“When did the bloom fade, eh?  After you bedded her a few times?  After the money ran out?  After you had to stop pretending that you were the fine couple starting your married life together?  Was that your dream?”  He snarled.  “As if you would ever be accepted as an equal to us!”

“What do you want.”  Wickham’s voice lost its force.  “What do I have to do to get out of this hole?”

“Well, I will tell you.”  He stood and looked down at him.  “I have some dreams, too.  Dreams for my son.  I have one iron in the fire, but if it does not work out, I will leave it to you to finish the job.  I despise you for what you have done to my niece; I despise you for what you are making me do now.  All of it is on your head.”

“Why me?  Why not use this friend of yours?”

“No, you owe me, and you know Pemberley.”

“Would Georgiana be hurt?”

“Suddenly you are concerned about her?”  The harsh laugh came again.  “How touching, you feel some remorse, I wonder if I should believe it.  No, I think it is a show for leniency.  You will help me.”  He blew out the lamp, and his voice resonated in the dark room.  “After all, you just admitted that you would like to live.”  Wickham closed his eyes and listened to the boots cross the stone floor.  “Of course, you could always say no.” 

 

“IT WAS A VERY ENJOYABLE EVENING.  Clearly the Gardiners were in awe of their surroundings, but it was not enough to be annoying in any way.  At least Darcy did not seem to think so.  He was surprisingly cordial, I mean, you know how tight-lipped he can be, but once we were at table and he managed to tear his eyes away from his wife . . .”

“You mean he looked away?”  Hurst chuckled and taking a pinch of snuff, sneezed, then wiped his nose. 

Bingley chuckled.  “The man tried, I will give him that.  But she was just as bad, if I am not mistaken they were up to something beneath the table.”

“Hand holding?”

“Playing footsy, I would say.”  Hurst groaned while Bingley grinned.  “I know, I know, can you imagine!  Darcy?  Ohhhh, Mrs. Darcy can draw him out like no other.  I wish we had seen more of this courting in Hertfordshire.”

“It seems that Darcy has to be married to let down his guard with a woman.”  Hurst chuckled

“Rather a backwards way to go about it!  We were well into the second course and she would let drop a small comment, and he would send her a look . . . I daresay it is a good thing they
are
married.  I can well imagine what happened when we all departed at the end of the evening.” 

“Yes, I can well imagine myself.  Lucky man.”  Hurst nodded with a smile.  “Good for him.  I cannot see him reaching your level of merriment, though.”

“Oh no, it was subtly done, all of it, but I was glad to see it, and her relations were continually amazed and pleased as well, I think.  Darcy actually broached a few subjects with them, and Mrs. Darcy managed to direct the conversation very nicely when he faltered.  I was quite impressed.”

“Did he expound on something that displeased him?  That seems to be his favourite, strictures on one thing or another.”

“No, no, he spoke of fishing!”  Bingley smiled with the thought.  “Mrs. Darcy is an excellent influence .  He was lively enough with us . . .”

“With his crowd you mean.”

“Well, yes, but she is changing him, relaxing him a little.  She is changed as well, somehow.  I cannot put my finger on it though, but something is decidedly different.”

“How is she settling in there?  I have wondered what it would be for her. Colonel Fitzwilliam was quite prescient to be concerned after seeing her at your ball.  She is ill-prepared for this life she has.”

“She was nervous, but I think it was a stroke of brilliance on Darcy’s part to invite her family for their first dinner.  She was able to just relax.  Her aunt was a guiding hand throughout, but I would say that Mrs. Darcy is a natural, and this Season, her dinners will be the talk of society.  A sparkling hostess in the making.”  Bingley grinned. 

“Her mother does put on a fine dinner; she may have picked up something there.”  Hurst inwardly shook his head at Bingley’s eager agreement.  “Did Darcy have anything to say about Miss Bennet?”

“No, nothing earth-shattering.”  Bingley sighed and picking up a pillow, played with a golden tassel on one corner.  “He has never really discussed her with Mrs. Darcy.  Obviously his occupation is his wife.”

“Rightly so.  Did you approach her?”

“No, I lacked the opportunity.”

“You did not take the opportunity.  They will soon be at Pemberley and the chance to pick the brain of one who knows will be gone.”  Hurst raised his brows.  

“Did you say Pemberley?”  Caroline entered the room and took a chair opposite her brother. 

“You can hear mention of that estate from two floors away.”  Hurst snorted and reached for his glass.

“Mr. Hurst, please.”  Louisa joined him on the sofa and looked to Bingley.  “Have you met Mr. and Mrs. Darcy?”  Caroline coughed and they all ignored her.

“I dined with them last night, as a matter of fact.”  He shot a look at Hurst who grinned into his glass.  Caroline and Louisa gaped.  “It was unexpected.  I dropped over to speak to him and was asked to join their party.”

“A party?”

“Well, they only had invited two others, a lovely couple, excellent company, good conversation, I was glad to meet them.”

“Who was it?”  Caroline demanded.

“The Gardiners.  Mrs. Darcy’s relations from Gracechurch Street?”  His lips twitched when they stared.  “Darcy thought well of them.”

“What is his business, Bingley?”  Hurst asked across the dead silence of the room. 

“I could not say, but judging by his attire and manners, I would imagine it is a great success.  Mrs. Darcy has relatives to be proud of.”  He looked at his sisters pointedly.  “As do the rest of the Bennets.”

“Well.”  Louisa noticed her husband and cleared her throat, “What a relief that is for Mr. Darcy, I believe he was concerned about the connection to those particular relatives.”

“How is Miss Darcy?”  Caroline said quickly.

“I do not know; we spoke of her only briefly.”  He smiled. 

“Such a fine girl she is, so accomplished, a wonderful dowry and outstanding pedigree and connections, and she will be out very soon.  It will be a fortunate man who will win her hand.  I am sure that Mr. Darcy would only give her to a very trusted man.” 

Hurst rolled his eyes as he read through Caroline’s prodding.  “She is two years away from being out.” 

“Darcy is in no hurry for that, but I agree he is going to be particular about her suitors.”  Again Bingley smiled, thinking of the trust his friend had in him.  “It will be an honour for whoever that good man is.”

Louisa tried to read his expression.  “Miss Darcy is precisely the sort of girl you should consider, Charles.” 

“Yes, she is.”  He smiled benignly and put his pillow down.  “Now, have you two had your fill of shopping?  Shall we return to the country?”

“Charles!”  Caroline cried.  “How can you suggest such a thing?  So close to Christmas?”

“What does that have to do with it?  Surely you are not going to be buying an abundance of things for me?”  He grinned.  “I am still waiting for the hoop and stick you promised me when I was ten and you were eight.” 

“Really, Charles.”  Caroline huffed.  “It is nothing to do with shopping; it is just that people are beginning to return to Town, there is a new play to open this week . . .”


The Rivals
.”  Louisa nodded.  “It opens tomorrow, Mr. Hurst, a comedy, you should enjoy that.”

“Is that a hint, my dear?”  He smiled.  “Very well, tomorrow we will go.”

“Thank you.” 

“So beyond this performance what holds us here?”  Bingley asked.

“Surely you felt the drafts in Netherfield?  I do not care to return to that big house and sit huddled under a blanket!  We are here, the townhouse is quite snug and comfortable, what do we need to rush back to the country for?  It is not as if we have guests to please, you held your ball, you have fulfilled your obligation to entertain for another year, and Mr. Darcy,” she sighed, “is returning to Pemberley.” 

“It really is more economical to remain here, Charles.” 

“Yes, as I will be footing the bills.”  Hurst snorted.  “It is up to you, do you have a reason to return to Hertfordshire?”  He raised his brows and looked pointedly at his brother. 

“We would return after Christmas?”  He asked his sisters.

“Oh yes, certainly, just after New Year’s.”  Louisa smiled.

“Or after Twelfth Night at the latest!”  Caroline agreed quickly.

Hurst saw where this was going.  “And then the Season will be starting up, so what will be the point of returning at all until next autumn with so much to do and such wonderful people to be met?” 

“I did not say that, Mr. Hurst.”  Louisa said softly.

“You did not need to.”  He got to his feet and stopped by Bingley.  “I believe that you need to have some questions answered before you make a decision on this.” 

“I agree.   Perhaps they will be answered at the theatre tomorrow.  Certain friends will be present.”

“Who?”  Caroline demanded.

“Do not fret, Caroline,” Hurst strolled from the room.  “Nobody of significance to you.”

 

“I WILL NOT BE A MOMENT.”  Darcy promised then smiled when Elizabeth purposely took one of their newly purchased books from its wrapping and opened it.  “You doubt me?”  She then opened his coat and fished his pocket watch from his waistcoat, popped open the cover, noted the time, replaced everything and resumed her reading.

“Yes.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” 

“The clock is ticking, Mr. Darcy.”  Her eyes sparkled but she kept reading. 

He kissed her cheek and stepped out into the cold air, and just as quickly entered the law offices he knew so well.  A young man stood while another waited to take his things.  He waved the boy off.  “Mr. Samuel Darcy, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Darcy.”

They had just stepped into the busy office when Samuel appeared from a doorway.  “William!  This is an unexpected pleasure!”  He smiled and offered his hand.  “What tears you away from your lovely bride?”

“Only the most important of inquiries, I assure you.  And Elizabeth is waiting in the carriage, armed with a chronograph.”  Darcy glanced towards the street.  “I promised her I would be quick.”

“Well then, we must not keep m’lady waiting!”  Samuel ushered him into the empty conference room and seeing Darcy’s pointed look, shut the door.  “What is it?”

“We have had an idea about the baby, and wish to investigate the possibilities.”

“You would not pretend to be its parents?  Elizabeth will not feign a pregnancy?”

“No.”  Darcy shook his head as a smile grew.

“What a relief!  Tell me your idea!”  Samuel sat down and leaned towards him eagerly. 

“It will be the orphaned child of a friend, his mother dying in childbirth, and we will offer to look after him until he remarries.”

“Which he will never do . . .

“What are the laws of adoption?”

“Laws?”  Samuel laughed and sat back in his chair.  “What laws?  Adoption is merely a label, not an act.”

“Is there no formal process?”

“I think what you are asking is if a child accepted into a family has any rights to Pemberley?”

“Yes.”

“I will speak to Mr. Easterly about it, hypothetically, of course, but . . . I believe that blood is the key here, with no blood there is no inheritance if there is an entailment . . .”

“But there is no entailment on Pemberley.”

“Quite right.  Technically there is blood, but you would have to expose Georgiana for that and you are claiming this is no relation.  You are disinheriting the baby to make him legitimate.”  He felt Darcy’s fixed attention and continued thoughtfully, “That alone makes the whole question of inheritance difficult although with it being on the mother’s side there is no doubt of the Darcy blood, and that is the heritage in question.  But then again we have the illegitimacy . . .”  Samuel rubbed his chin. “You are of course free to leave your property however you wish, as you have with your marriage settlement and will.”

“What
can
you tell me?”

Hearing his impatience, Samuel refocussed on his cousin.  “I can say for certain that you cannot simply give him the Darcy name.  You will have to invent a surname, and when he reaches majority he can of his own free will decide to become a Darcy.”  He saw his cousin’s face fall and smiled.  “I am sorry for that, I know how important it is for you to make sure that this child is raised a Darcy, but even if Georgiana was exposed, it would still not have our name.  Now, what good Scottish clan shall you choose to be his forefathers?”

Darcy sighed as he grappled with his disappointment.  “I hardly know.”

“Well, regardless of the name, I think that it is a brilliant plan, and as I said, I want to give you the best answer.  You will be at dinner on Sunday?”

“Yes.”  Darcy stood and Samuel joined him.  “We are to visit Lord Matlock now.”

“Lucky you.”  He smiled.

“He is to be a guest in my home in a fortnight, so he should behave.”  Darcy shook his head.  “We should have just gone straight to Pemberley.”

“Too late for that.”  Samuel opened the door and ushered him out.  “I will see you Sunday, and I hope to be the bearer of good news.  I am delighted with this decision.  I am positive Father will be as well.”

“I hope so, I do not like being on his wrong side.”  Darcy put his hat back on and pulled out his watch.  He chuckled, “Eight minutes.”

“Get moving!” Samuel walked to a window to look down at the carriage.  “Do not keep that lovely woman waiting.”

Other books

Prescription for Chaos by Christopher Anvil
City of Lies by Ramita Navai
Murder in the Afternoon by Frances Brody
Dragons & Dwarves by S. Andrew Swann
Roark (Women Of Earth Book 1) by Jacqueline Rhoades
Ways to See a Ghost by Diamand, Emily
Real Vampires Have Curves by Gerry Bartlett
Semi-Detached Marriage by Sally Wentworth