Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (86 page)

Laughing, he hugged her to him.  “I am sorry dear, but I have no pockets for my watch.  I cannot tell you.” 

“Then can you share with me your joy?”  Kissing him she sighed with the passion in his response. 

“Tomorrow.  It can wait for tomorrow.”  Watching her eyes close again, he settled protectively around her and whispered, “I can wait for tomorrow.  But for now, I will believe for both of us.” 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 32

 

I
regret that we did not have the opportunity to speak of this in person at Gladney, but I wanted you to know of it before Mrs. Kelly had the opportunity to inform Sophie of the encounter.  Elizabeth is sure that there was no malicious intent, and she did her best to restore the equilibrium of the ladies afterwards, but there is no question that she had to react quickly to even the slightest hint of impropriety.  You and I both know how fast a rumour can be declared positive truth.  Remember how Mr. Gardiner heard the story of you and Wickham in the tobacco shop.  That story in the hands of someone else could have been catastrophic for us all.  Lord knows what was gossiped about us in Scotland.  This story had to be well-worn for Mrs. Kelly to speak of it before our family.

I believe that Elizabeth’s vehement reaction was absolutely correct.  She first moved to protect Georgiana, and then she defended me.  Be prepared to hear about the incident when you next visit Matlock, Aunt Susan’s description of Elizabeth’s anger and hurt was as heartbreaking as it was gratifying.  But in the end, it served a purpose.  Mrs. Kelly will hopefully go home and spread a new tale, correcting the views of everyone she encounters. It is unlikely that anyone there will ever meet up with anyone from our circle; however I prefer to have the story squelched rather than pretend it does not exist.

Does Sophie know anything of this?  I realize that you have other matters on your mind as you honeymoon, but I believe that the subject must be raised.  Sophie knows nothing of Georgiana, so it leaves you in a sticky situation.  Do you defend Elizabeth or support your new mother?  Do you expose Georgiana, and what will Sophie’s behaviour towards her be in future?  It is up to you; however I do not want the Kellys to know of Georgiana’s ruin.  Once away from our control, the story would take on a life of its own.

Elizabeth’s talk with the women made it clear that we were absolutely correct not to share the truth with your parents and Aunt Catherine.  They would have called for Georgiana’s head, they would not have protected her, or it is possible that if we had told them when she disappeared, they might have pressed an undue advantage upon me to remain quiet.  I would not have put it past your father to use me.  At the time, his desperation was obvious.  He might even have demanded that she marry you or Albert as Uncle Harding hoped she would marry Samuel. 

Lady Catherine’s actions would have been more difficult to predict.  She is an admiring supporter of my dear wife now, but again, when we were first engaged, she was our greatest source of pain.  With the information of Georgiana’s absolute ruin in hand, she could have threatened to expose her if I had not married Anne.  After my encounter with our cousin in the drawing room and the discussion Elizabeth had with her afterwards, I promise you, I might very well be mirroring Albert in the search for eternal peace had she been my fate. 

It comes to this, if we had told our family, I would not be so very happily married now, nor Cousin, would you.  It is your decision what you choose to say to Sophie.   Welcome to married life.

Your brother,

Darcy

 

“Thank you,
Brother
.”  Richard blew out his cheeks and closed his eyes.  “Once again you remind me that it is not all about lolling in bed.  You continue to bring me down to earth, but
must
it be
so
soon?”  He let his cousin’s words filter through his mind until he felt a hand tapping his boots.  Smiling, he opened his eyes to find Sophie pointedly looking at his feet.  “Not on the furniture?”

“You just purchased this desk; do you want to mar the finish already?” 

Swinging his feet down, he hooked his hand around her waist and pulled her onto his lap for a kiss.  “My dear wife, the marks I leave will be famous one day.  I can imagine our great grandchildren telling stories of me, and how I always had my feet up on the desktop as I made fantastic decisions about our glorious home.”  He laughed as her eyes rolled.  “You are not impressed?”

“No.”

“Very well, I shall strike a bargain with you.  I will keep my feet off your desk and leave them on mine.” 

“That is no bargain!”  She laughed. 

“Take it or leave it.” 

“I have no choice, do I?”

“No.  But I gave you the semblance of one, did I not?”  Smiling, he kissed her again.  “What shall we do today, our fifth day of married bliss?” 

“Why do you not tell me, since my desires will be ignored . . .” Sophie crossed her arms. 

“I see that your shyness is gone and as I am not in the least interested in ignoring your desires, or mine for that matter, shall we unfold these arms and put them to good use?”  Richard took her hands and remembering the letter, reluctantly stopped.  “Perhaps we should talk first.”

“You look so serious.”  Sophie stood up to his vehement protests and took a chair next to his.  “What is wrong?”

He did not answer for some moments as he thought of what he wanted to say.  “What is your opinion of unmarried girls who fall with child?  Girls of good family.”  Taking in her stunned expression, he smiled, “No, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, I have no bastard born or unborn out in the world.”

“Natural child . . .” She corrected with obvious relief.  “Well . . . I . . .” Seeing that his face gave away no trace of his opinion, she had no choice but to state hers, “I think that the girl is a fool.” 

“And what should become of her?  Should she be tossed away, married off, kept at home . . .?”

“I . . .”  Helplessly, she played with her hands, “I . . . it depends, does it not?  Would her life be worse at home or better with some . . . man who is found to marry her?  Does she have sisters to be protected?  What is the state of her family and will she be harmed with their anger or disappointment?” 

“Fair enough, there are always complications and each case is different, but tossing her on her ear to fend for herself . . .”

“Is cruel.”

“And the baby?”

“I know what happens to babies.”  She said quietly. 

“So attempting to save him, and the girl by some acceptable means, is your choice?”

“Yes.”  She watched him.  “What is yours?” 

“The same.”  He smiled at the relief in her eyes.  “Were you waiting for me to start chastising you?”

“This conversation is so unexpected; I do not know what to think.  Why would you ask me such things?”

Richard simply continued, “What did you hear about Sommerwald, about the Darcys when they were in residence? Specifically, what did you hear of Miss Cargill?” 

“Oh.  I see . . .”  Sophie looked back down at her hands.  “It was only after the Harding Darcys left that we learned her name.  It was people who would make deliveries to the estate who spotted her . . . besides Robert, I mean.” Sophie bit her lip and glanced up at him.  “The Darcys were such objects of curiosity.  They did not attend our church, but were seen with the reverend.  They clearly enjoyed exploring the countryside and were so obviously . . . attached.”

“They drew the eye even though they avoided socializing?  Darcy will love to hear that.”  He smiled and then chuckled.   “It is fascinating how a couple so private can be so interesting when publicly all they do is gaze lovingly at each other and laugh.  Is it so unusual?”

“Yes, we both know that, Richard.”  Sophie held his gaze.

“Then may we be as interesting as they.”  He touched her cheek and nodded.  “So they drew attention and people were curious, and any tidbit was dissected.  What did they say of the girl?”   

“I did not listen, Mama spoke of it sometimes, but  I . . . I am afraid that I was quite preoccupied for the past few months.”  A smile spread over his face. “Well,
that
pleased you.  What is wrong?”  Richard’s smile faded and he looked down.  “I am starting to know you.”  She touched his great scarred hands and he looked up to her.  “You can trust me.” 

“Ironic, that.”  He said softly as a memory washed over him.  Darcy’s voice, defensive, pleading, angry . . . hopeful . . . came to him, 
I begged her to trust me, and she . . . hesitantly agreed, and demands honesty sooner than later, but she did accept me.
  Richard shook his head.  “Trust, it is all based on trust with them.  From the first moments . . . Her loyalty was to him.”

“Richard?”  

Straightening, he spoke seriously, “A great many more people than I will have to trust you with this, my dear.  This is between you, me, and the Darcys.  Absolutely nobody else.  Not my family, not yours.  Do you understand?”  Sophie squeezed his hand and nodded.  He entwined their fingers and thought while images of the last year flew through his mind.  At last he made a decision, and kissing the ring on her finger he held her eyes.  “There is no Miss Cargill.  But there
is
Hope.” 

 

LOST IN THOUGHT, Darcy considered the conversation at the breakfast table as he walked out to the stables.  He had been speaking of his plans to observe the new harvesting machine at work, and while Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley politely listened, Elizabeth’s interest was absolute.  That sort of attention was gratifying to him in a way that he could hardly explain, but he found that he craved it nearly as much as he did the touch of her hand upon his skin. 
How can her obvious interest in my concerns be as arousing to me as . . . the sound of her voice, or the sight of her blushing cheek?
 

“She is planning something.”  He said softly as he remembered the look in her eyes.  “She has been so tired, too tired for weeks and this morning she clearly wants me, and where am I going?”  He shook his head and looked back at the house.  “I want you, too.  But I must go.”  He thought of what he expected to face that day as he mounted Bruin and his reluctance to share with her his concerns. 
Would she want to know?

“Mr. Darcy?”

Hearing the voice of his stable master, he wrenched his thoughts from his wife and back to his estate, then after answering the man’s questions, set out for the home farm.  Passing through a gate, he was rendered speechless to find Elizabeth seated on her new pony, Daisy.  With a laugh, she kicked her mount and took off down the drive.

Darcy’s brow creased and he found his voice as the memory of Anne’s fall flashed through his mind, “Elizabeth!”  Immediately he sent his horse into a gallop. 

“Oh my, that is not a happy face.”  She observed when he came up alongside her.  “Surprise?”

“Surprise!”  He stared.  “What the devil are you doing riding?”

Stung, she instantly became defensive, “I thought that you wanted me to ride, is it not part of my duties as mistress?  If my company is unwanted, then say so and I shall go off on my own!”  When he did not respond, she gave the pony a little kick.  

The horse started and Darcy was immediately after them, coming alongside and grabbing the bridle.  “Whoa . . .” They came to a halt and the couple stared at each other.  “You will
not
ride alone.” 

“I did not intend to!”  Elizabeth glared at him and slid out of the saddle.  Landing with a thud on the ground she immediately started walking.  “And I will not now.  Good day, Mr. Darcy.” 

“Where are you going?”

“As I am forbidden to ride, I shall walk.  And since I will have my own company, I will take my time at it.  If you return before me, do not bother to meet me at the door, as I will not be speaking to you.”

Determinedly she set off.  Darcy swore under his breath and letting go of Daisy, jumped down from Bruin and strode after her.  “Would you please stop?”

“No.”

“Elizabeth!”  Catching up, he placed his hand on her shoulder. 

“I wished to surprise you . . .  You were so full of anticipation and I . . . thought I would join you . . .” She faltered under his intense stare, but continued on, “I thought that since I have been so tired at night and we have not . . . been intimate for so long that we could . . .” Embarrassed, she spun from his grasp.  “Go watch your sheep or count blades of wheat or whatever you are doing.”

His voice softened, but she did not hear it. “You know what I am doing.  You heard everything that I was saying this morning.” 

“Excellent.  Admirable.  Outstanding.”  Waving her hand, she kept walking. 

Darcy kicked himself.   “Fool.”

“I
hope
that remark is not directed towards
me
, Mr. Darcy!”

“You hear too well!”  He called over the widening gap. 

“I hang on every syllable!” 

 “
Now
what do I do?”  This time he spoke in a soft whisper.  Following his disappearing wife, he realized what she had said and felt the ache in his groin grow to near-blinding desire. 
She wants you, idiot!  And YOU want her!  And you rejected her!  Go!

Catching up as she entered a copse, he grabbed her hand.  Elizabeth shook him away and he grabbed it again, spinning her around and into his arms.  Her hands pressed against his chest, he lowered his face and claimed her mouth, kissing her deeply.  Letting go he removed her hat, tossing it aside before taking her mouth again.  He could feel her shaking against him, and tasted the salty tears that ran down her cheeks and into their mouths. 

He drew back and caressing her face, read her eyes.  “You frightened me.” 

“Why?”  She demanded.  “All I wanted was to share the day with you!  Your anticipation was clear and I wanted to see you at work, see you being yourself on your land at last.  I have waited for this chance, Will.  You know that I will do nothing foolish, don’t you?” 

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