Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (23 page)

“I think that I understand what you mean.” 

“So why would a woman want to hide away for the rest of her life when she has been given a second chance, and so many members of her family are working so hard to help her to succeed?  Especially your brother who ultimately determines your fate?  He wants you to be happy and will do anything to secure that for you.  He loves you.”  Elizabeth gave her arm a squeeze when she nodded and looked back at the house.  “You have a great deal of time to decide what you want to do.  I have only told Mrs. Annesley that I may know of someone for her, I gave no names.” 

“Do you think that she is like Mrs. Younge?”

“Did Mrs. Younge encourage you to Mr. Wickham?”

“She certainly did not stop me.”  Georgiana sighed.  “Not that I can really blame her.  I wanted to go.”

“If this was the summer that you went to Ramsgate, do you think that you would be so susceptible to him?”

“That is difficult to say, since I am so different.”  She looked down at the growing baby. 

“If you could speak to him this minute, what would you say?”  Elizabeth came to a stop before a statue of Adonis in the garden.  “There, this resembles him, does it not?”

The two of them considered the highly idealized sculpture of a man and exchanging glances, burst into laughter.  “Oh Elizabeth, you are just awful!” 

“He is a bit too muscled for me.”  Elizabeth tilted her head.  “Just look at him,” she walked around the statue critically, “He is all planes and ripples.  There is nothing there to embrace, nothing to envelope a woman.”  Stopping at the back she looked at his bottom.  “Well, this is very nice . . .” 

“Lizzy . . .” The ladies looked up when Darcy’s voice called across the garden.  “Dearest, I just had a thought . . .” His brow creased and he looked from Georgiana’s blush to Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes.  “What are you two doing?”

“Admiring the artwork so thoughtfully placed in the garden.”  She reached up to touch Adonis’ calf.  “It is remarkable in its execution.” 

“Elizabeth . . .” Darcy quickly arrived and slipping his arm around her waist, steered her away.  “It is a horrible example of art; I shall have it replaced with something more appropriate.”

“More appropriate?”  She laughed.  “Such as an admonishing angel?”

“Come, Georgiana.”  Darcy commanded.

“It is not unlike the statue in the gallery at Pemberley . . .” She suggested and looked quickly away from her brother’s stare.

“Really?”  Elizabeth looked back around Darcy’s imposing shoulder to Georgiana.  “I missed that one!  I will have to go and admire it when we return home.”

“Well, he is draped in a cloth of some sort . . .”

“No wonder he did not draw my eye . . .”

“Elizabeth!”  Darcy stared at her.

“It is art, Will.  Do you not want us to be well-rounded women?  Are you not proud of such an exceptional example of your sex?”

Darcy glanced at the statue and very uncomfortable, he led them further away.  “I . . . I think that you are rounded enough.” 

“That Adonis certainly is not.  I was just remarking to Georgiana how I did not find him at all inspiring.”  Her eyes danced when he instantly focussed on her.  “Did I not, Georgiana?”

“Yes, that is true, Fitzwilliam.”  Georgiana tried valiantly not to giggle when he looked back at the statue once more. 

“What is wrong with him?” 

“Why?  Do you think that you resemble him?”  Her smile was barely contained as was her laughter. “You do not, well, except for one part . . .” 

“Which part?”  He demanded.  Elizabeth shook her head and holding up an imaginary key, locked her lips.  Blushing furiously, he looked at his sister and saw how she was laughing so hard she had her arms wrapped around her middle.  “Fine.”  Affronted he let go and started taking long strides.  “If you wish to laugh at me, I will leave you to it.  I stopped working and thought this would be a fine day for a drive, but . . .” 

Elizabeth’s eyes found heaven as Georgiana looked at her worriedly.  Elizabeth held up her hand and stopped walking.  “Oh, I forgot, Mr. Darcy is not to be teased.”  Darcy stopped dead and closed his eyes.  “And I thought that he loved a laugh.” 

“I do.” 

“Jealous of a statue.”  Shaking her head, she walked up behind him and slipping her arms around his waist, spoke so only he could hear her whispered words.  “How will you ever take me to Italy?  Is not the entire country simply littered with effigies of stunning gods?  Will we need to walk around blindfolded?  Because I assure you, sir, knowing your history with statuary, I certainly would never allow you to gaze upon a marble breast without fear of your forsaking mine.” 

“Lizzy, hush.”  He took her hands and squeezed.  Georgiana walked past them and Darcy hung his head.  “What is wrong with me?”

“Not one single thing.”

“No, there are hundreds.”  He laughed and felt her giggle against his back, then jumped when her hand rubbed over his rear.  “This is the only resemblance to that horribly undernourished man over there.  He must be a great horseman like you to have such an admirable seat.”  Darcy turned around to look at her.  “I want a great bear of a man to hold me.” 

“I am not that big.”  He said shyly, but draped his arms around her.

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes.” 

“Where are you taking us?”

“I thought that we could visit a castle?  A day out would be good for Georgiana?”  He bit his lip, “And . . . us, of course.” 

“mmhmm.”  Her eyes sparkled as she simply kept rubbing.  They both looked down at the rapidly growing shape beneath her hand.  “Look what I have found . . .”

Darcy’s eyes were dark, but twinkling.  “And I am supposed to turn around and face my sister like this?” 

“And drive to a castle.” 

“You intend to torture me in retaliation for my jealousy, do you not, Mrs. Darcy?”  Reluctantly, but firmly he removed her hand from his breeches.  “You know, love, I am quite capable of seeking revenge.” 

Elizabeth stood on her toes and kissed him softly.  Darcy licked his lips as she whispered against them, “I am counting on it.” 

“Minx.” He whispered and passing his hand over her bottom, gave her a sharp pinch before stepping away.  “My revenge begins immediately.”

“You are driving, you cannot . . .” Darcy’s head was wagging and she looked up when she saw the coach and four appear with Harris at the reins.  “Oh.”

“We cannot all fit in the curricle, besides, do you really think that I would risk exposing Georgiana to all and sundry in any other carriage?  No, no, no.  I want her to enjoy her time out, not sit and worry about everyone looking at her.  And the castle is far enough away that I doubt any other visitors will know who we are.” 

“Of course you think of everything.”  Elizabeth could not hide the admiration in her eyes, but then a thought occurred to her and she looked at him triumphantly, “But she will still be sitting across from us.  Your plans for revenge are null.”

“Shall we time how long it takes for her to fall asleep?”  Darcy grinned as she blushed and tapping upon her bottom, he whispered.  “Do not tease the bear, Lizzy.” 

Elizabeth grabbed his hand away, “Careful, Mr. Darcy, or the bear might wind up skinned and stretched on the floor before a roaring fire!”

Darcy’s grin grew wider.  “My plan exactly.” 

Chapter 9

“G
ood Morning!”  Susan chirped as she threw open the curtains and bright sunlight streamed into the bedchamber.  She turned to the bed and without hesitation took hold of the covers, stripping them away from her husband.  “It is a beautiful day, we must not waste it!”  She kissed his cheek and with a spin, she was gone. 

Harding Darcy blinked and struggling to sit up, looked around the room.  “What was that?”  He rubbed his face wearily.  Unlike his transformed wife, he did not sleep well.  He was filled with doubt.  “How can I be a father to this child?  I do not remember so many things, but I do remember how vehemently I fought to have this child sent far away.”  Climbing out of the bed, he stood at the window and just caught sight of Samuel walking towards the small stables on his way to Mayfield’s office.  “I am father to a grown man . . .  How can I do this?”  He rubbed his hand over his face again.  “I forget how to do this.” 

“Harding, a boy just brought a message from Mr. Barnes, he asks you to come up to the manor . . .”  Susan stopped at the door.  Harding was slumped against the window frame and his head was bowed.  “Harding?”  She bit her lip and approaching, rubbed her hand over his back.  “What is wrong?”

He let out a sigh, “I know how happy you are.  I love seeing you so happy.”

“You are not seeing anything.  You are looking at your feet.”  She smiled a little and he looked up to her.

“Susan . . . I know why Darcy hesitated before sending me that letter.”

“Why?”

“Because he heard me dismissing the baby as dispensable nearly from the first moment he told me Georgiana was pregnant.  I . . .  pushed for her to try and end the pregnancy.  I prayed for a miscarriage, I . . .  utterly rejected Darcy’s plan to marry and pass the baby off as his own.  I refused to listen to his passionate declaration that the baby was a Darcy and blasted him when he refused to consider sending it away.  How can I now be its parent?” 

Susan sighed and walking away from him, sat on the edge of the bed.  “So . . . you do not want the baby now.”

“I did not say that.  I . . .” He closed his eyes. 
How can I explain the reason for my fear?

“Would it help you to know that I prayed for a miscarriage, too?” 

Harding looked to her.  “You did?” 

“I suspected almost as soon as Fitzwilliam brought her home that she was with child.  I saw how tired she was, and I hoped that it was from her ordeal, but . . . I have been with child too many times.  I felt each one . . . I knew almost as soon as each was conceived.  I was sure that she was pregnant, and I prayed and prayed that she was like her mother and would lose this baby before she ever knew.  When I wrote to Fitzwilliam with my suspicions, the paper was wet with my tears, and I did not have the strength to write it out again.” 

“Susan . . .”

“I knew what she was facing.  Pregnancy is not easy for any woman, let alone for a naive defiant girl facing the condemnation of society.”

“I watched you; dear . . . Your strength overwhelmed me each time you carried our babies.”

“And I was married, I had you with me.  Georgiana is all alone.  Thank heaven her brother, as devastated as he is, stood by her, and brought dear Elizabeth into our family to love him.”

“I wanted him to marry Anne.”  He laughed without humour.  “Now Gladney is.”

Susan’s head shook.  “Oh, Harding.  You and George . . .  Just leave that dear man alone.  It is just like Samuel; see how well he is doing on his own?”  He looked up and his brow creased.  “Nobody is forcing their will upon him any longer.” 

“You mean that I am not.  I love him; but my actions were not always done with love.”  She smiled at him sadly.  “Susan I . . . I do not know if I can open my heart again.”

“Are you afraid that the baby would die if you did?”

“I am afraid that I am too prejudiced to try and have any feelings for this baby.  This is Wickham’s child; it is not a Darcy . . .”

“It is Georgiana’s child, and if Fitzwilliam wants it to be a Darcy, then
by gum
he is a Darcy!”

“Susan!”

“Forgive me for cursing, but Harding, it is not the child’s fault he is being born!  Georgiana is . . . she is giving him to us because we have suffered so many losses, and because she wants Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth to have their own babies.”

He waved his hand, “And why would we two old fogies take an orphaned . . . not natural . . . child?” 

“Because our hearts were broken and we want to mend them.  Because we turned away from each other when we lost our babies.  Because you were afraid to show Samuel love as he grew up because you were afraid he would be taken away from you, too.”    Susan watched him walk across the room to sit down beside her.  “I am scared, too.  But, I want this so much.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and they held each other.  “Susan, I have been so selfish for so long.  If you are certain that we can do this.”

“We?”  She started to sob.  “Harding . . . when was the last time that we ever did anything together?” 

“I cannot remember.”  Swallowing hard, he hugged her.  “I am sorry.”

“So am I.”  She hugged him and drew back, and wiped the dampness from his cheeks.  “We are not so old.” 

“We are not so young.”  He kissed her.  “But . . . I suppose that we are just practicing to be grandparents.” 

“Oh my, our Samuel married and a Papa!”  She laughed.  “That is when I will feel old.” 

“And I hope that he finds someone as excellent as Elizabeth is for Fitzwilliam.” 

She tilted her head and ran her fingers through his hair. “So you like her now?” 

“I am grateful for her.  For more reasons than I can ever say.”   He said quietly.

Susan hugged him.  “Will you come and join me for breakfast?”

“No.”  He drew a breath and smiled a little.  “Darcy asked me to look after Pemberley.  Mr. Barnes would not ask for my presence if it was something he felt comfortable addressing on his own.  I . . . will take myself to the house.”  Looking down at his nightshirt, he sighed.  “After I change.” 

An hour later, he entered Pemberley House for the first time since Darcy departed.  Evans informed him that Mr. Barnes had not arrived yet, and nodding, he stayed away from the seat of power in the study, and chose to wait in the library.  Walking around, he looked at portraits of his ancestors, apologizing to each set of eyes as he passed, and stopped before the ancient family Bible.  With an unsteady hand, he opened the cover, found his name, and traced his finger over the names of his children.   Swallowing, he looked down the page and saw Darcy’s handwriting where he had proudly noted his marriage to Elizabeth.  He could feel the emotion welling up in his breast, and quickly, he lifted the pages and opened the book to a random chapter.  Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped his eyes, and focussed on the text.