Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (58 page)

“Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth bit her lip and tried to think of an answer.  “I know that all of my sisters greatly enjoyed your company while you were in the neighbourhood.”  Bingley’s head swivelled and he looked at her intently.  “But I have not heard a word from them since we left.”

“Oh.”  He deflated.  “Nothing?”

“No, I have written home, and I know my sister Jane has written to our aunt, but I suppose that she did not wish to bother us as we are so newly married.”  Elizabeth saw his disappointment.  “But, as you assured the neighbourhood that you expected to return within a week or so, they have not had any reason to repine.”

“Of course, of course, it has not been so very long, has it?”  He stared at his hands.

“I cannot believe we are having this conversation here.”  Darcy sighed and sitting forward, spoke very softly.  “Dearest, what Bingley is trying to avoid asking and what I have never been able to discern for myself to answer him is; does Jane like Bingley?”  Bingley’s head popped up and he looked from Darcy to Elizabeth. 

“She has always enjoyed your company, sir.”  She smiled.

“I never saw it.”  Darcy opined and sat back. 

Elizabeth shot him a look.  “You are not her sister.”

“Bingley never saw it.”  He waved his hand at him.  “Did you?”

“I thought I might, but she is so . . . content.”  He coloured when Darcy coughed.  “She really has never said anything to give any indication.”

“I never said anything about liking Mr. Darcy, yet here I am married to him.”  Elizabeth offered and ignored her husband’s sharp stare.  “Mr. Bingley, I cannot offer you more than what I have said.  My sister, like me, keeps her own counsel in these matters.”

“Of course, and it is completely out of order for me to even try to ask.”

“I did the asking, Bingley.”  Darcy’s lips lifted.

“On behalf of a friend.”  He smiled in return.  “Well . . . I cannot break my promise to my sisters and leave now, can I?   I cannot return alone.”

“What would your intentions be if you did return to Hertfordshire?”  Darcy asked softly.  He glanced around; people were beginning to take their seats.  “Whatever it is, I suggest that you make it very clear from the outset.  Unlike my sister Jane, Mrs. Bennet is quite sure of her feelings and is not hesitant about expressing them.”

“I do not know.”  He sighed and ran his hand through his unruly blonde hair.  “If only everyone had just stayed at Netherfield, but now they are all here.  Mrs. Darcy, when you next write home, could you tell her, them, that I am unexpectedly detained?  I would ask Caroline to write to her, but I honestly do not think that I can rely on her.  She is . . . she has . . . I would prefer you telling her, them, please.”

“Tell them that you will or will not return in mid-January, sir?”  Elizabeth met his eyes and held them. 

Bingley looked to his friend, wishing that he knew his heart as quickly as Darcy had, long before he ever acted on it, and then met Elizabeth’s eyes.  “Could you tell them that I must stay in London through Twelfth Night?”

“I will tell them that, and I will tell them that you enquired after my sisters specifically.”  Elizabeth bit her lip.  “But I will do nothing else, sir.”

“Very well then, I think that is sufficient.  It is only a month.”  Bingley stared at his boots. 

Frustrated with the game, Elizabeth spoke to her hands.  “I would be honoured to call you brother, Mr. Bingley.”

“Lizzy.”  Darcy said softly.

“I would.”  Elizabeth said quietly.

“My sisters hope for me to marry Miss Darcy.”  Bingley murmured then glanced at Darcy.  “It seems many people hope for you to be my brother, one way or another.”  He noticed Elizabeth look away and blushed.  “Forgive me.” The bells rang signalling the play was about to resume. Bingley stood along with Darcy and shook his hand then took Elizabeth’s.  “I will inform Darcy of my plans.  Have a very safe journey to your beautiful home, Mrs. Darcy.  I wish I could be there to witness your first sight of it.  I am sure your husband will be so proud to take you there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bingley.  I hope that your time in London is pleasant.  If I learn anything of value, I will be sure to have my husband inform you.”

“Very well.”  Bingley winked at Darcy.  “And you are to be the diplomat in the middle.” 

“Marvellous.”  Darcy sighed and they embraced.  “Be well, friend.” 

“And you.”  Smiling, he waved and disappeared. 

Darcy looked down at Elizabeth and shook his head.  “How did this mess happen?”

“Sit down, dear man.”  She tugged his hand and he resumed his seat.  “I wish that I could tell him more, but Jane has never said her feelings to me, it is all my observation that tells me she likes him.  I can hardly give him that to pin his hopes on.”  Her head tilted and she looked up to Darcy’s face. “Now, tell me.  Did you hope for Mr. Bingley and Georgiana as his sisters do?”  He sighed again.  “I see.  And Georgiana’s behaviour ruined that possibility.”

“What sort of future does she have now, Lizzy?”  He blinked hard and stared determinedly at the stage as he fought the overwhelming sadness.  Elizabeth moved closer, once again hugging his arm and squeezing his hand tightly.  His gaze moved to their entwined hands, studying the outline of her ring through the glove, and felt her head nestle onto his shoulder as her free hand found its place over his waist.  Drawing a deep breath, he relaxed into her loving embrace as the performance resumed.  “Thank you.” 

“I have done nothing.”

“Of course you have, I am not facing this alone.”  Darcy looked down at her and smiled a little.  “I hope that there is success for Bingley and Jane.”

“It is between them now.”  Elizabeth watched Bingley resume his seat down below, his arms crossing as he stared up at the stage.  A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd, and she was pleasantly surprised to hear Darcy’s voice among them.  She caught his eye and was glad to see his smile. “Will?” 

“Zounds!”  He whispered in her ear.  “I love a laugh.”

Elizabeth lifted her chin and whispered to him.  “Think of the past only as it gives you pleasure.” 

Darcy kissed her hand and clasped it to his heart.  “No, learn from the past, live in the present, and plan for the future.” 

“Hope is for the future.”  She nudged him.

“That, my love, is part of the plan.” 

Chapter 19

“C
heck.”  Darcy moved away from the chess board and folded his arms. 

“Do not look so smug, sir.”  Elizabeth murmured without lifting her head.  “I am not finished.”

“How do you know how I look?  You are staring at your woefully depleted pieces.”

“Hush!” 

Chuckling, he picked up his steaming mug of cider and took a long draught.  It had been an exceptionally relaxing day.  No visitors, no shopping or sightseeing.  They had returned from the theatre to a cold supper and a warm bed, and fell asleep very quickly.  That morning he had finished up his remaining business while Elizabeth spent the time with their housekeeper, insisting that she be told what was necessary to supervise Darcy House, and especially what she would need to do when it was fully reopened in February.  She had appeared in his study, armed with a sheaf of papers covered in copious notes, both proud and intimidated by all she had learned.  He was relieved to see her return to her normal self.  This first brush with the realities of living with a woman had not been too terrible, but he was unquestionably thankful to know it was nearly over.  Darcy watched her working out possible moves and let his imagination drift to other thoughts.  Slipping off his shoe, he slid his foot up her leg.  At last her eyes met his, and his brows rose innocently. 

“Yes, dearest?”

“Behave, Mr. Darcy.”

“It is increasingly difficult to do.”  He leaned forward and smiled.  “I am hoping for very good news tomorrow from Samuel.”

Elizabeth squealed as his toes moved up to her knee, and wriggled between her thighs.  “Fitzwilliam!”

Chuckling, he relented and shrugged. “I am doing my best, love, but I am afraid that the best of intentions fail when you are anywhere near.”  Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled, and groaning, he slipped his shoe back on and determinedly scanned the board, looking for a distraction.  “The move is obvious.”

“For you, perhaps.  But not if I wish to survive this match.”

“Concede.” 

Shaking her head, she focussed on the pieces.  “Not yet.” 

“Surrender.”  His deepening voice urged, and she looked up, recognizing that the subject was no longer chess.

“Will . . .” Elizabeth fell into the warm blue of his eyes, and took the hand that was tracing over her palm.  “I want to so much.” 

“Then we are equals.”  Darcy looked down at her hand in his.  “This has hardly been the honeymoon you probably dreamed of, I am sorry for that.  You deserve so much more than this.”

“It has not been so bad.”  She smiled when he rolled his eyes.  “Well a few bumps, but we are better for them, I think.  We know each other much better.”  Darcy smiled and nodded, and returned to caressing her fingers.  “If you think about it, most ladies do not have much of a honeymoon at all, perhaps only the adventure of travelling to meet far-flung relatives if they marry someone from outside of their village.  But I did not have to travel too far to accomplish that.  Look at how many relatives we have managed to meet between us?”

“Of them all, I believe that yours have been the most charming.”  He chuckled when she looked at him pointedly and held up his hands.  “Yes, yes, I know, I was wrong.”

“I am glad to know your opinion can change.”  She grinned and picking up her queen, took his bishop.  “There.”

Darcy sighed.  “Oh Lizzy . . .” Without hesitation, he picked up his queen and took hers.  “Checkmate.”  He saw her satisfied smile, and his mouth dropped open.  “You were surrendering!”

“It is the best I can do right now.  Just like us and our honeymoon.”   His smile reappeared and she picked up his mug of cider and took a sip.  “mmmmm.” 

He tried to tug it back before she downed it all.  “Do you want some of your own, madam?”

“No, yours is just fine.”  She laughed and drank some more.

“Pardon me, sir, the post?”  Lowry entered with a salver.  “There are two for Mrs. Darcy.”  Darcy took the stack and gave over her letters while he picked up one from Susan.

“Oh, this is from Jane!”  She beamed as she broke open the seal and started to read.  “I only just wrote to her this morning about Mr. Bingley.”

“What did you tell her?”  Darcy looked up from his letter and watched as the smile turned to a deep frown, and her hand went to her mouth when she gasped.  He set his letter down.  “What is wrong?” 

She closed her eyes and dropped the paper to her lap.  “Mary has accepted Mr. Collins.” 

Darcy sighed.  “I know it is not what you wished for her.”

“It is not what I wished for me.  I just cannot imagine being married to such a man, especially not after being with you.”  She opened her eyes to see his little smile.  “I know you told me that I am a different person from her, but . . .”

“No, no buts.”  He moved to sit on a hassock by her feet.  “It will do you no good to project your feelings of Collins’ inadequacies to be your husband upon Mary’s decision.  She is not you.”  Elizabeth looked miserable.  Tapping the letter, he urged her to continue reading.  “What does Jane say of Mary’s happiness?”

“She does not speak of happiness, she says that Mary is overwhelmed, but . . . she also describes her as proud.”  She looked to him and he took her hand.  “Proud?”

Darcy bit his lip and thought for a moment.  “Do you remember at the Netherfield Ball, when Mary played and was almost universally disdained?”

“Yes.”  She sighed. 

“Mary seems to be a girl, a woman, who has sought to distinguish herself, improve herself, but without adequate instruction, she failed to excel in her endeavours, at least in the eyes of those who surrounded her.  She; however, seems very proud of what she has achieved.”  Elizabeth nodded and listened as he spoke slowly.  “I see her as embracing this opportunity.  She will be very proud to be married to a reverend and she will be even prouder to be the daughter who married Mr. Collins and therefore saves her family from being cast out from their ancestral home.  Your marriage to me has guaranteed their safety, but her marriage to Mr. Collins guarantees that nothing truly changes.”

“Yes.”  Elizabeth nodded.  “Everything you say is true.  My one fear is that . . . she does have a way of behaving in a superior manner sometimes.”

“Preachy?”  Darcy smiled.  “Perhaps she just might have the gumption to silence Mr. Collins.  If you have noticed he has a tendency to affect a superior air himself.”

“When he is not grovelling to his betters, you mean.  I surely do not see Mary performing in such a way.”  Elizabeth met his gaze.  “So I should rejoice that my sister has been chosen and that my family will not be uprooted when my father dies some distant day.”

“Yes.”  Darcy looked down. 

“Will?”

“It is nothing, love.”  He spoke softly.  “I hope that your father enjoys a long life.  But I also know how fragile life is, and how quickly everything can change.”  Biting his lip, he looked into her eyes, “Would you like us to stop at Longbourn on our way home?  To say goodbye?”

“Is that not too far out of our way?”  She stood and walked up to the map of England that was hanging nearby.  Darcy stood and followed her, and watched her finger tracing over the route to Pemberley he had shown her.  “And you sent out all of those letters yesterday, arranging for the horses and the inns.  Oh no, Will, that would be foolish.  We cannot take the chance of not being able to continue the journey as we hoped.  My family understands.  We have only been apart for two weeks, after all.  We have been separated for months when I visited my aunt and uncle.”  She smiled, turning to find him standing there, and took his hand in hers.  “We will see them when we return in February; perhaps we will be able to attend the wedding.  Jane did not say when it would be celebrated.”  Darcy hesitated then nodded.  “What is wrong?  Did you receive bad news?  I saw that your letter is from Mrs. Darcy.”