Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (126 page)

“Ungrateful man!”  Lady Catherine declared.

“No, you have that wrong.  He is very grateful.”  Lord Matlock said thoughtfully.  “He is grateful to not be like us.” 

THE SCENT OF ROSES AND LAVENDER suffused the air and Darcy breathed it in.  Tenderly, a tongue traced his lips and before he could react, the warm mouth moved across his cheek and he felt that same soft tongue exploring his ear . . .  “Ohhhhhhhh . . . Lizzy . . .   You make me insane when you do that!”

“Good.”  She smiled and kissed his lips, then moved out of reach of his hands.  “How are you?”

“Better, I think.”   His eyes opened to the engaging sight of Elizabeth bent over him.  Darcy brushed her hair back and watched it fall again. 

Elizabeth caught his hand.  “You rested all of this time?”

“I . . . I did not
sleep
all of the time.”

“That is not what I asked.”  She laughed and nudging his bottom she sat down beside him.  “This is a lovely chaise.  We need a few of these scattered around our homes.”  Darcy’s eyes were boring into hers.  “Don’t you think?  They would be most convenient for taking a rest?”

“Definitely.”  He said huskily.

“I understand that you enjoyed some billiards?”  Groaning, he closed his eyes and tilting his head back, shook it slowly.  Laughing softly, she played with the fringe of hair resting over his brow.  “How stiff are you?”

A mischievous smile appeared and he claimed her caressing hand and placed it over his groin.  “You tell me.” 

“Insatiable.”  Elizabeth gasped and bending over him lightly they kissed, their lips and tongues lovingly embracing as their hands did the same over their bodies.  Darcy pulled her forward and she hesitated, not wanting to hurt him.  Never breaking his kiss, he kept tugging until she relaxed and was stretched out beside him, and somehow, they turned so that he was on his side and looking down into her eyes. 

“Beautiful.”  His palm slid down over her breasts to her hip.  “So very beautiful . . .”

“Will . . .”

“hmmm.”  Darcy was lost in the taste of her throat and moaned when he moved to lick the swell of her breasts. 

“The door is open . . .” 

He looked at her with passion-drunk eyes and to the door.  “Damn.  I will close it.”

“Stay.”  Her finger touched his cheek and she drew his face back down for another kiss. 

“Lizzy . . .” He breathed.

“I am sorry.   I cannot resist you, either.”  She curled into his arms and they lay quietly together.  “I realize that this is equally scandalous.” 

Darcy rested his chin on her hair and ran his hands up and down her arms.  “Not quite.  Others have seen you resting in my embrace, love, and have survived the experience.”  He kissed her brow.   “How was Longbourn?”

She sighed and settled into him.  “Mama was busy with the wedding breakfast, she had Lydia and Kitty working and my aunt was there.  Jane and I had a nice long talk and I spoke with Mary . . .” He watched her eyes and she saw that he was waiting.  “Papa asked to see me before I left.”

“Ah.”

Her lip caught in her teeth.  “I am not sure what he wanted.” 

“What did he say?”

“He said that he had convinced himself that I was just away visiting in London and that when I returned, that I was home to stay.”  Darcy sighed.  “He said that . . . he probably would have felt that way no matter whom I married or whatever the state of his health.”

Darcy whispered.  “Guilt.  Subtle, but guilt nonetheless.” 

“Do you think so?” 

“Dear Elizabeth.  Yes.”   He caressed the back of his fingers over her cheek.  “Guilt for wishing you were still home, guilt for your sudden marriage to me, despite your happiness, guilt for failing and wanting the years back, he feels guilty.”

“I thought you were saying that I was to feel guilty.”

“I am sure that you are, but this time I think that he was . . . attempting an apology.”

“Could he not just say that he was sorry?”  Elizabeth cried and Darcy shook his head.  “Why?”

“Because to say that he is sorry for one thing is to admit that most of his adult life he has been a failure.  Every man has his pride.  I think that this is the best you can expect from him.  Do not look for more.  Did he say that he loves you?”

“Yes.” 

“Then he is finished.” 

“Then there is no reason for us to remain after the wedding tomorrow.”  She said quietly. 

“No, although you may change your mind and want to stay longer.  Take as much time as you need, Elizabeth.”  Darcy pulled her closer and holding her face in his hands, kissed her.  “I love you.” 

“Does this mean that you are finished with me, too?”  Her voice tried to tease but her eyes were worried.

“How could you think such a thing?” 

“I have had twenty years with him, and two months with you.  I almost lost you and I . . . I felt . . .”  She buried her face in his chest and he held her as tightly as he could.  “I love you.”

“Does this mean that you are finished with me?”  He kissed the nape of her neck and smiled when she looked back up at him.  Kissing her wet cheeks, he admired the determined possession in her eyes.  “Now you know how I feel.”  He looked around the library and back to her.  “Shall I go and lock the door now?”

She shook her head with a laugh and kissed him.  “Insatiable.” 

Chapter 38

E
lizabeth kept an eye on Mr. Bennet.  The man was walking stiffly, slowly; his chin was up as he was clearly trying to manage this stroll down the aisle with dignity.  Elizabeth’s grip on her husband’s hand was tight and she cringed whenever her father seemed to falter and fight back a need to cough.  His pallor was frighteningly grey. 

Darcy’s attention was on the man at the front of the church.  Collins was sweating profusely, even though they were standing within a draughty church as snowflakes swirled outside of the door.  His gaze bore into his soon-to-be brother, assessing his fitness to take on Longbourn and its occupants, and found him desperately lacking despite Elizabeth’s report of Mary’s confidence.  He knew that one way or another, he and Elizabeth would be roped into providing aid.  Then and there, Darcy determined to speak to Longbourn’s steward at the wedding breakfast. 

Noticing Bingley discreetly handing Collins a handkerchief interrupted his thoughts and his focussed attention moved to his friend.  To be asked to stand up with the reverend was a surprise, but Bingley took it in stride, declaring that he would be his brother soon enough, and with characteristic good humour said that Collins undoubtedly would have asked Darcy to stand with him, but he was too much in awe to do so.  Darcy’s lips lifted and as the bride passed he saw that his friend’s eyes rested on Jane, who was now standing at Mary’s side, and was glad to see that for once, Jane’s eyes were not cast down but were directed at Bingley. 

“It is about time.”  He said softly and squeezing Elizabeth’s hand; turned his head to smile at her and started to find her hand at her mouth.  She was watching her father swaying precipitously. 

“He is going to fall!”  She whispered in horror.

Immediately Darcy looked to her father and saw that he was indeed in trouble.  Drawing a fortifying breath, he rose as discreetly as possible and walking forward, wordlessly stood behind and to the left of Mr. Bennet, placing a steadying hand on the man’s shoulder.  Mr. Bennet did not acknowledge him, but Darcy felt his weight leaning into his arm and he had to brace himself to take it on.  When Mr. Bennet answered the cue to give Mary’s hand over to Reverend Pierson, Darcy stepped back and saw Mr. Bennet to his seat, never looking at him, and then returned to slowly lower himself down beside Elizabeth.  Her fingers entwined with his and she squeezed tightly.

“Thank you, dear man.” 

“It was nothing, love.”  He whispered, but his cheeks had pinked when he saw her admiring gaze.  The tiny pianoforte began to play and they both jumped.  Elizabeth held back a giggle with her hand pressed back to her mouth, and Darcy’s eyes twinkled at her.  “Not quite the same as the organ at St. George’s?”

“No, but enough to wake us from our musings.” 

Darcy leaned down to her ear.  “What were you musing?”

“Hush.”  She looked up at him.  “We are in church.” 

“I had not noticed.”  He took her hand and rubbed over her ring beneath the glove.  Elizabeth’s cheeks pinked this time.  Their eyes met and smiling, they turned their attention back to the ceremony.  

“OH, MR. BENNET!”  Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief.  “Mary is married!  I never thought this day would come!” 

Mr. Bennet sighed.  “It has come indeed, Mrs. Bennet.  And the married couple is undoubtedly quite ready to begin their journey.  They certainly are paying no heed to your breakfast.” 

On one side of the room Mary stood surrounded by women admiring her ring and chattering about such a good match, what excellent sense he showed, such a wonderful man . . .  Elizabeth marvelled how the attitudes had suddenly changed once they had been declared married.  She had certainly heard the sniggers sent Mr. Collins’ way as he searched for a bride amongst his cousins, despite the indisputable truth that marriage to him would be a good match for any lady.  Elizabeth watched Mary drinking in the first taste of pride in her new status, and saw her standing a little straighter.  It eased her misgivings.  Mr. Collins was without a doubt a man she would not want to know, let alone marry, but for her sister, he might truly be her best choice.  Elizabeth focussed on her husband standing opposite and across the room from her, who was in very deep conversation with Longbourn’s steward. 

“Why am I not surprised to see you at work, Will?”  She knew that he was assuring himself that this man would be able to take over the estate as Mr. Bennet declined, and was capable of leading his new master when the time came.  Elizabeth laughed, “Poor Mr. Guthrie, he probably expected to be drinking punch today, not undergoing an interview!”  Watching Darcy at his role as master and caretaker was reassuring, he was returning to himself. 

I Fitzwilliam take thee Elizabeth to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health to
love
. . .
 She felt a shiver run through her as she heard in her mind again how he had caressed that word, paused over it meaningfully, and how his eyes had stayed fixed upon her as he spoke it for the first time. 

Darcy, at last satisfied, let the steward go and sought out his wife.  He was both pleased and self-conscious to see the expression in her eyes, and knew by the way she hugged her arms to her body that she was thinking of him. 
What is on your mind, love?
  His fingers found his ring and he began twisting it.  Slowly a smile lifted his lips and he was lost in the thought of how her voice caressed the words as they took their vows, the tremor in her hand, the way her eyes shone, and how he squeezed her hand so tightly when she paused, just as he did.  “Of course.  She is thinking of
our
wedding day.”

“Lizzy!”  Lydia broke Elizabeth’s concentration.  “When will we get to visit you in London?  Can we not go with you now?”

“Oh.”  Elizabeth blinked and looked away from Darcy’s intense stare.  “I am sorry Lydia, but we will only be there for a short stay, and then we will travel back to Derbyshire.”

“Why would you want to do that?”  Kitty asked as she popped another piece of confetti into her mouth.  “I would think that you would want to stay for the Season, after all, you are here now.”  She started to cough on the sweetmeat she had just swallowed.

“Kitty!”  Elizabeth sighed and handed her a cup of punch.  “Be careful!”

“Will you be presented?”  Lydia demanded.

“I do not know, perhaps you should ask my husband.”  Elizabeth smiled at him when she noticed his continued attention.  “He is in charge of the itinerary.”

“I think it is too early for presentations.”  His lips twitched.  “However, if you wish we might knock on the palace door and see if the Queen will accept your call, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth laughed.  “From such ignoble subjects as we?  Oh no, I would not dare invade her domain.”

Darcy shrugged and leaned against the mantelpiece.  “Suit yourself; I would enjoy seeing you in feathers.” 

“Does this mean that you
will
be presented?”  Lydia demanded impatiently.

Elizabeth watched him carefully and knew that he was leaning for a reason.  “No, he is teasing me.  Mr. Darcy and I do not expect to participate in the Season this year.” 

“Of course not.  Your family will not be participating in much of anything.”  Lady Lucas approached and nodded towards Mr. Bennet, who was now seated in a corner.  Lydia and Kitty opened their mouths to protest and then seeing Elizabeth watching their father, they became silent; at last even the youngest girls were feeling the truth of their situation.  “I am surprised that you are not staying.  Is there something keeping you from remaining here?  Surely Mr. Bingley would not mind hosting you for . . . however long is necessary?”

Elizabeth held her gaze silently until she felt the woman squirm.  “I cannot for the life of me imagine why that would be your concern.” 

“Eliza!”  Charlotte quickly approached and she hugged her friend.  “I am so sorry that we have not met before.”  She looked at her humiliated mother and taking Elizabeth’s arm steered her away.  “I apologize for Mama.” 

“No, it is up to her to apologize, she is the one who offended.”  Elizabeth sighed.  “And she wonders why we do not wish to remain in this neighbourhood.  First I am supposed to have compromised myself and now I am a bad daughter.” 

“I was so sorry to hear of your accident.”

“Thank you.”  Elizabeth said quietly. “My dear husband insisted that we come and has endured terrible pain to make this journey.”  She glanced back at him and saw that his attention was entirely hers.  “Hopefully our friends in London will be sympathetic to our appearance and will show concern rather than delight in the speculation of what may have happened.”