Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (129 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
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Darcy continued turning the pages.  The book was perhaps a century old, but it was by no means protected as the Darcys’ Bible was.  This was purchased to be used, and it showed.  He shook his head as loose pages came out in his hand and the countless notes from forefathers appeared.  Opening one, he smiled as he read of some ancestor’s proud notation that he had added one hundred acres to the estate that included a good stream and a site for a mill.  “I know that spot.”  He said softly, recalling watching from horseback one afternoon while Elizabeth greeted tenants arriving with their carts laden with corn to be ground, and how much he admired her kindness and good humour.  Another note mentioned the purchase of a stand of walnut trees.  Again, he nodded, and thought how he must take Elizabeth to their grove and take advantage of the little cabin. 

Closing his eyes, he smiled; thinking of the narrow cot and how they would likely collapse it to the floor with the vigour of their coupling.   “I can hear her laughing now!  Oh, to be well again so that I can . . .”  His thoughts turned to lovemaking and how much he wanted to abandon caution and just . . . express his desire with the fervour he felt so ardently.  “It has been so long, practically since Christmas . . .”  He looked back to the landscape and his brow creased.  “Christmas . . .  The cabin . . .”  Darcy sat up.  “What if . . . could he have been staying in the cabin?”  Darcy stared at Pemberley House.  “What a perfect place to sit and spy on us!” 

He reached for pen and paper and immediately started scratching out a note to his uncle, asking him to look into the cabin and see if there was any evidence of Christmas living there, and if he left any useful clues behind.  About to seal it, he stopped.  “I will wait for Elizabeth to conduct her interview.  Perhaps that will provide some more information.”  He went to open a drawer and set his letter inside, and found it filled almost to overflowing with a stack of stationary.  Deciding to place his letter elsewhere  he pushed the drawer and noticed that it did not close all the way.  “What is this?”  He wondered and pushed again.  Same result.  He pulled the drawer out; and setting it on top of the desk, peered inside.  In the back he found papers, stuck and wrinkled and jamming up the drawer slides.  “A waste of good stationary!  What else is stuck back there?”

“Will?”  Elizabeth entered the room and looked around.  She could hear him talking to himself, but she did not see him until there was a crash and a curse.  Her hand went to her mouth and she hurried around the desk to find him sitting on the floor and rubbing his head.  “What have you done?”

“I knocked my blasted head on the top of the blasted desk when I was retrieving the blasted papers that have . . .”  Her laughter stopped his complaining and waving hand.  “Forgive me.”

“No.”  She giggled and settled next to him.  “I like seeing you flustered.  It is a rarity and most engaging.” 

“Hmmph.”  He grunted, but had a sheepish smile to add to his blush.  “Thank you, I think.”

Taking his head in her hands, she tipped it down and she kissed the spot where he had been rubbing.  “There, all better.”

“Dearest if that was all it took to relieve pain, I do not understand why you have not been kissing all over me for weeks now.”

“Well, that is simple; you would enjoy it far too much.”  She pursed her lips while his mouth gaped.  “You know full well that if I started kissing your every bruise, that you would feign pain just to receive more attention.”

“I would not.” 

“Do not play coy with me, Mr. Darcy.”  Elizabeth kissed his nose.  “I am immune.”

He laughed and drew her into his arms, and pressed his mouth to her ear.  “I seriously doubt that.  You find my shyness to be charming.”

“I do not.”

“You like to challenge my reserve and draw me out.”  Darcy smiled when she shot him a look and cleared her throat. 

Purposefully, Elizabeth turned her attention to the gaping hole where the drawer belonged.  “What are you doing here?”

 “I am considering ways to draw out my demure wife.”

“Demure.”  She laughed and peeked shyly at him.  “Do you think so?”

“Yes.”  Darcy kissed her gently and traced his fingers over her face.  “And utterly lovely.” 

Her cheeks warmed.  “A little better, anyway.” 

“There was nothing wrong before.”   He delighted in seeing her become increasingly shy.  “Elizabeth Darcy!  If you keep blushing I will be forced to do something drastic!”

“Such as?”  She giggled and gasped as she was lifted into his lap.  “Will!  You are not strong enough for this!”

“All evidence to the contrary.”  Hugging her close, he kissed her throat.  “I am not made of glass, as my intact head has just proven, and I am feeling stronger every day.  Therefore it is time to stop behaving as an invalid.”

“Oh Will, are you certain?”  She turned and looked at him worriedly.   “Do not rush this recovery.  A few more months . . .”

“Months!  I am not proposing that I head off to the club and fence or even that I attempt riding.”  He stroked a finger over her brow.  “I have not exercised in weeks, and I can feel my body protesting.  You and I are in need of strengthening.”  He read her eyes.  “I am not going to die, Lizzy.”  Her mouth opened and Darcy raised his brows.  “I am going to be myself again and you will have to tolerate me for decades.”  Elizabeth took a shaky breath and nodding, she nestled into his arms. 

“I am sorry.”

“Do not be, I understand where your mind is.”  Darcy kissed her and whispered.  “Now about these exercises . . .”

Elizabeth regained her spirit, “What do you suggest?  It is quite cold.”

“When has a little cold stopped you from walking?”  He muttered as his lips began nibbling. 

She batted away his persistent mouth.  “What else?”

“Dancing.”  His eyes twinkled when she turned to him in surprise.  “Correction, private dancing.  I will attend a ball only under direct threat to our well-being.”

“That is quite possible if your aunt has any say.  Perhaps when she arrives with Cathy we should find you a cane to lean upon?”  Elizabeth smiled back at him and he chuckled.  “Perhaps we might sneak some flour from the kitchen to sprinkle in your hair?”

“I am injured, not old!”  Darcy protested.

“Ohh, I will remember that upon your next birthday!”  Elizabeth squealed when he immediately began tickling her.  “Stop!  Stop!  You are not old!” 

“That is better.”  Elizabeth relaxed again.  He breathed in a full lungful of air and relishing the lack of pain, growled as his hands travelled over her and he pressed his mouth to her ear.  “There is one more thing.  I intend, my love, to take great advantage of our solitude.” 

“How great?”  Darcy tilted her head back and they kissed.  “Ohhh.”

“But not on the floor behind the desk.”  He laughed and she huffed.   “A nice soft bed . . .?”

“And I shall kiss all of your bruises.”

“Mmmmmm.  Now that sounds wonderful.”  They closed their eyes and stayed in their embrace, neither had any desire to move.  “Do you know something that I love about you?”

“Hmm?” 

“You let me hold you as long as I want.” 

“Why would anyone protest that?”  She drew his head down and they kissed again. 

“Mr. Darcy . . .”  They saw Mrs. Gaston’s skirt and her confused pause.  “I was sure he was in here . . .”

“We are behind the desk.”  Elizabeth called and ignored the pinch he gave her hip. 

“Behind . . .?”  The housekeeper’s hand went to her chest when she saw their position.  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!  Mr. Darcy, is something wrong?”

He looked at her without a hint of embarrassment.  “The drawer was not closing properly, I was cleaning it out.”

“Sir, that is not work for you!”

“No, these papers are meant for my eyes.”  He picked some of the scattered pages up.  Elizabeth joined him.  “You see, old letters . . .” Pausing, he turned a sheet.  “This is Father’s hand.”  

After several moments of silence, Mrs. Gaston looked at Elizabeth.  “Mr. Darcy, I do not mean to interrupt, but there is a boy here from Matlock House with an invitation for dinner?”

“Tonight?”  Elizabeth looked curiously at her completely absorbed husband.

“Tomorrow, madam.”

“Tomorrow is fine.”  

“Very good, Mrs. Darcy.”  She nodded and shaking her head at Darcy, she left the room. 

“Will?”  Elizabeth looked at him and rising from his lap, she started picking up the papers, forming them into a stack and then reached inside of the recess to pull out the rest of the mangled mess.  Much of it was unused writing paper that must have been caught up when the drawer was overly full, but some of it looked like notes, scribbled when the man writing them was trying to work out a problem.

Wordlessly, Darcy rose up and into his chair, and began paging through the stack.  Elizabeth picked up the drawer and fitted it back into the hole, letting it slide into place effortlessly.  Finally putting her hands on her hips, she addressed him.  “What did you find?”

“These are my father’s notes, when he was breaking the entailment.”  He murmured and looked back to the desk.  Biting his lip, he carefully closed the Bennet Bible and set it aside.  “That must be rebound, love.”  He said softly as he gave it a tap, and glanced up at her just as she realized what he had been reading.  Darcy set down the papers.  “I can read those any time.”  Opening his arms, she settled back into his lap.  “Now, what were we discussing before we were interrupted?”

“Strengthening exercises?”  Elizabeth smiled.

“Ah yes.”  Darcy’s smile grew and he kissed over her face.  “How could I possibly forget?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 39

 

“O
h, that sister of mine!”  Louisa looked over her shoulder and began circling the furniture in Hurst’s study.  Her bracelets jangled as she waved her hands in the air.  “No small wonder she is unmarried!”

“She is unmarried because she has been fixated on one object only for the past two years.”  Hurst looked at her over the top of his paper.  “As, I believe, so have you, my dear.” 

“I know, I know, I wanted Mr. Darcy as her husband nearly as much as she did.”  Louisa came to a halt before his desk and traced her finger over the wood.  “And I know that I did not enhance our marriage in the least while doing so.”

“I did nothing to stop you.  For a time, I even enjoyed the novelty of watching Caroline pursue this impossible dream.  Neither of us did our marriage any favours.”  He smiled and Louisa smiled wryly in return.  “But we are improving.  So what has you performing a remarkable caricature of Mrs. Bennet?”

“Franklin!”

“I will not take it back.” 

Louisa glanced over her shoulder again and sat down.  “It has been over two months since Mr. Darcy married.  I understand that Caroline is deeply disappointed that she lost him.  To her mind, she was positive that his stay at Netherfield would cement their union.  She was certain that he would propose; so when he did not . . .” She sighed, “I allow her the opportunity to mourn her loss.”

“The man did not propose when she was visiting Pemberley, when he had the opportunity to see her moving about his home. 
That
experience is what cemented
his
mind, if it hadn’t been long before, which it very likely was.”  At last he put down his paper and regarded her.  “What is the problem, Louisa?”

“She wants to visit the Darcys.  I know that you have developed a . . . friendship with Mr. Darcy and that it would not be unusual for you to pay a call, and certainly with Charles marrying Mrs. Darcy’s sister, we should have a cordial relationship, and
I
would like to demonstrate that to Mrs. Darcy, and call on her to express my genuine concern for her and Mr. Darcy’s well-being.”

“But.”

“Caroline wishes to go and gloat over Mrs. Darcy’s appearance.” 

“She is as pretty as she ever was, just a little blue here and there.  I do not know that I would call myself a friend of Darcy’s, but a comfortable acquaintance, yes.  I would not presume to call without Bingley along, who is at this moment visiting Darcy’s attorney to draw up the settlement papers.  I suppose that it does not work that way with women?”

“No.”  Louisa sighed.  “We do flit from house to house, always hoping to be accepted somewhere better than the last.” 

“Gathering gossip like a hungry bee.”  He chuckled and saw that she was still frowning.  “What else?”

“She wants to know the contents of the settlement.”  Hurst rolled his eyes.  “I told her it is not her business.”

“Good.”  Leaning forward, he looked her directly into her eyes.  “You and I will never have any peace until Caroline is out of this home and in her own.  Call on Mrs. Darcy if you must, that woman will flick away Caroline like the gnat she is, I have no worries there.  Fifteen minutes of her time will not bother her.  However, it is time that Caroline finds her mate and is gone.  One from
our
circle.  Disappointment and ambition have made her unattractive, but she is not so unlike others of our class.  Let us work on this.  Agreed?”

“Agreed.”  Louisa smiled.  “I really like this new you, Franklin.”

“I really like the old Louisa reappearing.”  He winked and slid back into his chair.  Louisa came around the desk and kissed his forehead.  He patted her cheek.  “Thank you, dear.  Now go satisfy that viper sister of yours.”

 

“YOU WISHED TO SEE ME, Mrs. Darcy?”  Mrs. Hutchins peeked warily into the drawing room where Elizabeth sat at the writing table.  The cook’s eyes were wide; she very rarely saw these rooms.  It was always straight up the servants’ stairs to the upper floor to reach her bed. 

Elizabeth watched the woman’s reaction; it was exactly as she suspected it would be.  Smiling, she waved at a soft chair by her side.  “Please close the door and take a seat.”

“Yes, madam.”  Nervously, she did as was bid and walked across the floor, almost like a repentant child who did not know what was wrong. 

“I apologize for calling you up here.  I know that you are busy.”

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