Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (115 page)

Marvelling at his friend’s ease, Manning spoke incredulously, “I am surprised that you did not accomplish this in Town, Darcy, introducing your wife during the Season with some crush at the house.  You would have taken care of all the principals with one fell swoop.  Now you just have to do it all again in the spring.”

“This is where we will live.  Elizabeth is far more important to the people in Derbyshire.  Besides, when have you ever known me to care for Town?” 

“You have enough friends, Darcy.  Do not pull the wool over my eyes.  You simply did not stay in Town long enough to meet them.”  Manning said pointedly.  Darcy met his eyes with an imperturbable gaze.  “You know, for some time I was worried that you had used the occasion of your marriage to drop us all.”  He smiled at Elizabeth.  “If we had not run across the two of you on the way to Scotland, I would have worried that the rumours were true and that he was unhappy in his marriage.  As it was, that evening we spent together at the inn only cemented my opinion of his fine choice.  Mother was bereft, of course.”

“Of course.”  Darcy saw Elizabeth’s curiosity.  “Mrs. Manning looked over all of his friends as potential suitors for Miss Manning.  I was but one of the possibilities.”

“Yes, and now she has Fox and Winslow captured here with no annoying parents to get in her way.”  Manning grinned.  “When Father’s gout started paining him a few days ago and he made noises about remaining home, Mother would hear none of it!”

“There will be other gentlemen here tonight for your sister to dance with.  And I might mention, there are quite a number of suitable unwed ladies on the hunt as well.” 

“Yes, your cousin amongst them.”  Manning said wryly as Darcy’s lips twitched.  “I may be a cat amongst the pigeons, but Lady Cathy Fitzwilliam is . . .
That
woman is determined.”

“As is her mother.”  Elizabeth added with a smile. 

Manning sighed heavily. “I do not know what my parents will think of this, Matlock’s reputation is in tatters, not that it bothered me about Lady Cathy.  It is not her fault.  I am just amazed that she looks at me, a mere landowner . . . well, someday.” 

“If it . . .” Darcy thought of how to express himself.  “If it relieves you in any way, I can say that Cathy has
never
been so determined.”  Manning tilted his head.  “Not even in her chase after me.”

“Hmm.  No, Lady Catherine de Bourgh had you chosen for
her
daughter.  You were a fantasy to the other cousin.”  He smiled with the eye roll and sigh.  “Why me, suddenly?  She seemed reasonably interested when we danced this summer, but I definitely had to watch my tongue, I do remember that . . .” Pausing, he looked to Elizabeth.  A breeze had picked up and was gently moving the hair around her face.  “Yes!  Now I recall, I remarked on her hair resembling yours in style!  It was an innocuous comment, I thought, but she practically bit my head off in response.”

“Oh dear.”  Elizabeth laughed. 

“What did I do wrong?” 

“Come now, Manning.  You spoke of an imagined rival while attempting to make love to my cousin.”

“I was making conversation, not love.”  He laughed.  “Ah well, jealousy.  I should know that well enough; I have a sister, after all.  One who was quite relieved to know that
your
sister, Darcy, is not out.  What a stunning woman she has become!”  Darcy’s throat cleared and he fixed a menacing glare upon him.  “Was she along with you at the inn?  I seem to recall a girl at your table, but I surely would have remembered Miss Darcy, even if I was not able to do more than glance at her.”  Darcy and Elizabeth just looked at him.  Hearing no response, Manning took the hint that talk of Georgiana’s status was not to be encouraged.  He clasped his hands behind his back and looked at the manor.  “Magnificent, Darcy.”

“Thank you.” 

“It is a humble abode.”  Elizabeth noted offhandedly.

“Humble, my foot.”  He turned and caught the sparkle in her eyes and smile in Darcy’s.  “I remember you chasing a greased pig at a country fair when we were boys.”  Elizabeth gasped and turned to him.  Darcy’s cheeks were red and he was glaring at his friend again. 

“It had escaped from its pen; I was merely trying to help the owner.” 

“And you had just drunk your first tankard of ale, too.”  Manning winked at Elizabeth.  “I remember you reading about Benjamin Franklin’s experiments with electricity and trying to fly a kite during a thunderstorm our last year at Eton.” 

“Will!  You might have been killed!” 

“The string broke and the kite blew away, dearest.”  He murmured and glanced at her wide eyes with pleasure, then returned sternly to his tormentor.  “What is the point of this, Manning?”

Delighting in his friend’s thinly set mouth; Manning looked to Elizabeth, “I just wanted to tell you, I met Darcy just after his mother had died.  We shared a dormitory and he was certainly the odd, bookish, quiet one of the group.  We defended him against older students until he found his bearings again.  We found out that this quiet one has a sly sense of humour.”

“Did you cause trouble, Mr. Darcy?”  Elizabeth demanded.

“No, not me.”  He smiled and held her gaze.

“No, that was Wickham.”  Manning’s head shook.  “What became of him?”

Elizabeth squeezed Darcy’s hand tightly; all of the humour of the moment had been sucked away.  “I do not know his location.”  Darcy said grimly. 

“I am sorry to touch on a nerve that is clearly still raw.”  Manning said seriously.  “Really . . . Darcy, I was just bringing these things up as a way to say that . . . well, after your father died, you were naturally caught up in the affairs of this estate, but you had gradually been coming back to yourself and we were quite hopeful, Fox and Winslow, and I, that you had found your bearings once again.  When you seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth last year, we were at a loss about what had happened. I just thought I would let you know how . . . very pleased we are to see you happy.”  Manning bowed to Elizabeth.  “And of course, the reason is evident.”

“Why did you not tell me you have such charming friends?”  Elizabeth asked Darcy with a smile.

“I hardly knew.”  Darcy held out his hand to his friend who laughed.  “I thank you.”

“Well, I was elected to make the speech.  Of course, we had to spend a few days observing you together and see the family’s reaction to the pairing.”

“You just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”  Darcy smiled and looked to Elizabeth.  “Well, my love, we have a busy day ahead of us.  I will take the gentlemen out of your way.” 

“Could you take the ladies as well?” 

“I am afraid they are yours.”  Darcy looked to her eyes and then with a sigh, to her lips.  “Well . . .”

Manning watched him and shook his head as he turned and waved over his shoulder.  “I will meet you at the stables, Darcy.” 

Darcy immediately slipped his arms around Elizabeth and hugged her.  “What do you think of him?” 

“Lady Catherine was correct; you would not take anyone as a friend who was anything less than yourself.”  He shook his head self-consciously.  “He is different from Charles; he is truly your equal.  I like that they observed us for a few days before speaking their approval.  They are careful and protective.  I wonder what they would have done if you had presented me to them after meeting in a conventional way?  Would they have advised against me?”

“You would have charmed them as you bewitched me.”  Darcy assured her with a kiss.

“Mrs. Manning is not charmed by me; I am the social upstart who stole you away.”  Elizabeth shrugged.  “You cannot please everyone.”

“I love the confidence you have found in yourself.”  It was Elizabeth’s turn to be self-conscious.  “Mrs. Manning will like you well enough if her obstinately unmarried son gains a wife out of this visit.  She will not forget the favour.”  Darcy’s brows rose. “Find a mate for her daughter and she will sing your praises to the world.  The same goes for every other mother who brings a child here tonight.” 

“Oh, dear.  I suppose that I really am the Mistress of Pemberley now.”  She pressed her fingers to his lips before he could protest.  “I have work to accomplish.”  Darcy kissed her fingertips and hugged her once more.

“So do I.”  He said softly.  “Please promise me to take some rest while I am gone.  I want you to enjoy this night, and it will be very, very long.”

“How can I not enjoy it?  I will be dancing with the most tolerable man in Derbyshire.”  She laughed with his groan and looking around his shoulder spotted the rest of the male guests standing outside of the garden with their arms crossed.  “I think that you are wanted.” 

“Am I?”  He squeezed her waist and with the small smile on his face, watched while she blushed and fussed with his neck cloth. 

When finished she met his eyes.  “Go on, then.” He kissed her and when he turned, cleared his throat when he felt her hand rub possessively over his seat.

Elizabeth watched him stride determinedly away and become enfolded in the loud and cheerful ribbing of the men as they set off to the stables and the morning of hunting they had planned.  Soon enough they were gone, but not before she caught her husband touch his heart and then his lips as he waved goodbye. 

“Dear man.”  Elizabeth looked up at the house and drew a breath.  With the master gone, workers filtered in from out of nowhere and began planting torches to be lit that night all around the garden just as they had done along the drive.  She smiled to herself, pressing her palms down her skirt and shaking her head as she looked at her feet and wondered what they had seen. 
We are never truly alone, are we?
 

She found a seat next to a quietly flowing fountain and watched the activity.  Beside her was the rose garden, lovely and fragrant, that Darcy had planted for her.  Inside of the house, the women were probably making their way to breakfast.  She knew that she should join them, but the need for peace and solitude was more important than being hostess at that moment. 

Untying the strings on her reticule, she found the letter Darcy had shown her that morning.  It certainly bore no resemblance to any treasured keepsake she owned.  In fact, she was surprised at first that it still existed, knowing her husband’s penchant for throwing letters into the fire.  But this one, albeit clearly subjected to having been crushed in anger more than once, was precious to him.  She opened it and smoothed out the page as much as she could.  The ink was barely legible.  It had been exposed to splatters of liquid at some point, and Elizabeth knew that it was likely her husband’s tears, from anger or joy, perhaps both.  She picked out the few words she could, the important words. 

“The Gilded Cock, York.”  She said softly.  “Georgiana is safe.  Ten thousand pounds.  I await your response.  Wickham.” 

The rest did not matter, not that there was any apology or explanation offered.  No clues were given as to her condition, physical or married; nothing to answer the questions that had haunted her husband for four months of hell, only to be followed by another kind of hell.  It was a cold business proposition, a payment in exchange for a foolish girl’s life. 

An image of Darcy pacing the silent halls of Pemberley with his hand rubbing at his chest came to her mind and she looked up at the house.  Tears rolled down her face as she reached out to that lonely, terrified, guilt-ridden man.  She thought of him travelling the countryside for so long, searching for his sister, her life so much more important to him than his estate.  Until he arrived once again in London, and at last received the letter she now crushed in her hand. 

He still had not spoken in detail of that day, one year ago exactly, when he and Richard burst into the miserable room where Georgiana lived, neither had Georgiana, nor Richard.  It was as if time began again the moment she was bundled into the carriage.  Those four months ceased to exist.  And their plan to blot it from memory just might have worked had it not been for the conception of unwanted, denied Hope. 

Thinking of the baby who altered irrevocably so many lives, Elizabeth looked down to her hand resting on her belly.  “
You
are wanted little one, whoever you are.  How many lives will you touch?”  She wiped away the tears and whispered, “Tell me that you are alive, please. Reassure me that you are real.”  Closing her eyes, she waited, and hoped, but nothing came.

Wagons loaded with food from the ice house rolled towards the kitchens.  She became aware again of the boys working in the garden and saw maids outside, scrubbing the front steps, and more boys raking the gravel before the house.  “Today is one to celebrate.”  Folding the letter, she placed it back into her reticule and catching sight of the statue of Adonis out of the corner of her eye, she smiled.  Darcy had encouraged a morning glory vine to wind its way up the leg, and now flowers bloomed where the statue’s manhood hung.  “Mr. Manning is correct; you do have a sly sense of humour.  And he sees that you are happy.”  Standing, she smoothed her skirts and looked determinedly at her home.  “And tonight, my love, we dance at last.”

GEORGIANA STOOD AT THE HEAD of the stairs and looked down at the activity around her before slowly descending and walking towards the dining room.  Any other girl would probably feel envious or angry that she was not allowed to attend the ball, but thoughts of a party were the last things on her mind.  Her day had begun with a note from her brother delivered by Jennifer while she still lay in bed.

I was mistaken, Sister, I thought that the safe birth of your baby would be the final relief, but it seems that as time passed it was this milestone that became far more significant to me.  Without bringing you home this day a year ago, I do not care to imagine what either of our lives would have become.
 

“But I
can
imagine what my life would have been, Brother.  I had to come home to appreciate it.”  She stood looking out at the drive, allowing the suppressed memories to flood over her.  She saw Darcy, grimfaced and pale, helping her down from the carriage, Richard’s barely suppressed anger radiated from him as he walked directly behind her, not allowing her to collapse before the servants, and finally the comfort of Aunt Susan waiting at the door and hugging her, and then quickly leading her upstairs.  She remembered looking behind her when she reached the top and seeing Richard with a steadying hand on Darcy’s shoulder as he stood helplessly staring at his feet while slowly, he twisted his father’s ring.