Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (132 page)

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”  Richard looked at him sharply.

“It is a simple question.  Do you not want the responsibility?  That does not make sense, you are a commander of men, and responsibility is ingrained in you.  Do you dislike the estate?  Or is it something deeper?  Does wanting the position make you feel that you would be willing your father and brother to die?  Or are you afraid of becoming like them if you have a title beyond the one you earned laid upon you?”

“Quiet, Darcy.”  Richard warned. 

“Listen to me.  You are no closer to being Earl of Matlock today than you were a month ago.  Nothing has changed.  If your brother marries Anne, if he dies from his habits, it does not matter.  You are still the second son of a sitting earl; and nobody knows what may come tomorrow.”  Richard’s brow creased.  “And this marriage, as much as I hate the thought of a marriage for reasons of gain instead of love, the point is that nobody will be holding a gun to Albert’s head.  Nobody will force him to take the vows.  It is his decision, just as it is his decision to continue his recovery or to fall right back into his dissolute habits.  He will exercise his own free will.”

“You would have married her.  Nobody would have forced you.”

“But that is the difference between your brother and me.  When has Albert showed loyalty or pride towards Matlock?   Certainly not in the last ten years as far as I have seen.  Yes, I very well might have . . . probably
would
have done as my father bid, perhaps I would have resisted, but . . . no, I would have done what is best for the greater good of Pemberley, and I would have married Anne.”

Richard watched him.  “And regretted it for all of your days.” 

“Yes.”  He nodded and looked at the ring on his hand. 

“Thank you for this.  Thank you for . . . kicking some sense into me.”  Darcy nodded again and rubbed his thumb over the initials.  “Will you tell Elizabeth why Anne wants to marry Albert?”

“To be above her?”  He laughed softly.  “Shall I tell her that Aunt feels that our injuries make us unfit to mix in society?  I will have to ask your father how exactly he described us.”

“I would love to be there when you told her, please allow me that thrill.”

“No.  I am not in the least interested in thrilling you in any respect when it involves my dear wife.” 

Richard watched his nervous movement with the ring.  “You are being particularly reflective tonight.”

“More so than usual, you mean.”  His lips lifted slightly, but he continued staring at his ring.  “I find that I have a thousand and one questions for a man I cannot ask, and I know that if I could ask him, very likely half would never have to be brought up.”

“As they would not exist.”

“Hmm.”

“Darcy . . . Shall I play the role of Elizabeth and tell you to shut up?”  Richard nudged him with a smile. 

Darcy smiled and looked up.  “I think that she is far more tactful.”

“I refuse to silence you with a kiss.”

“Thank God for that.”  Darcy laughed and looked towards the door when he heard Elizabeth’s laughter floating down the hallway.  “Ahhh.”

“You light up like a thousand candles when you know she is near.”  Richard chuckled and stood along with him. 

Into the room strolled Elizabeth and the earl.  “Thank you, Elizabeth, I appreciate your opinion.”

“It was nothing, I assure you.”  She smiled at Darcy and her eyes danced.  “You really
must
see the portrait.”

“I have, many times, dear.”

“All dressed up in your Parliament togs.  The wig is the topper.”  Richard snorted.  “An exercise in vanity, that bit of artwork is, Father.  Look at you dragging poor Elizabeth to stare at it before she had a chance to take a fortifying sip of sherry.”

“Sherry that she brought with her.”  Darcy winked.

“Along with how many other bottles?”  Richard grinned.  “Bless you, Cousin.” 

Lord Matlock’s chin lifted.  “Every earl has done it, why not me?”

Curiously Elizabeth asked, “How many paintings of you are there already?” 

“Six.”  He said without shame.  “Each one more handsome than the last.”

“Oh dear!”  Elizabeth laughed.  “That head of yours just might be swelling, sir.  Your wig might not fit!” 

“Excellent, love!”  Darcy chuckled.   “You were painted in your wig?  I forgot that.  That shows your age, Uncle.  Now if this was Uncle Darcy, it would be entirely appropriate.”

“I paid a ridiculous amount for that damned periwig; I was going to have myself painted wearing it at least once!”  He huffed.  “You young people do not appreciate the old ways!”

“If it means that I do not wear horsehair and sneeze powder, then yes, I do appreciate them.”  Richard laughed, then leaning down, he whispered something to Elizabeth who gasped and put her hand to her mouth. 

“Hey there!”  Darcy spoke up and tapped his shoulder.  “What are you saying?” 

“Lord, Darcy, if you start demanding that you must have your part of the conversation, I will run screaming from the house.  I have had enough of my sister this week.”  Lord Matlock gestured to a chair and Elizabeth sat down with her husband by her side.  “Stop staring at her.”

“What did he say?”  He asked Elizabeth.

“Nothing to worry you.”  She smiled and caressed his cheek. 

“Hmm.”  Darcy looked at Richard suspiciously. 

“All right, that is enough, come on Darcy, come see my portrait.  I can see that you are itching to go home, and I know that you are itching to say something to me.  You have been worrying that ring all evening.”  Lord Matlock commanded. 

“Lizzy . . .” Darcy turned at the sound of her laugh.  “Watch out for him. And you . . .” He pointed at Richard.  “Behave.”

“Of course.”  Immediately Richard moved to sit next to Elizabeth.  “Now my dear, what shall we discuss?  I understand that your husband spent the morning practicing with his sword?”  He winked at Darcy who groaned and followed his uncle out the door.

“Richard is a good man; you know that he admires you and Elizabeth.”  Lord Matlock smiled. 

“I know and I am grateful for your support.  I cannot quite fathom your change of opinion.”  Darcy said softly. 

“Well . . .” His uncle threw up his hands, “I am an idiot who was desperate.  Now, what is on your mind?  I am pleased beyond expression that you wish to speak to me.”

“I am trying to be a better man than I once was.”  Darcy walked quietly alongside him with his hands clasped behind his back.  Noticing his uncle’s curious stare, he sighed and dove into his questions.  “Did Father mention any other reasons for breaking the entailment?  Besides leaving the estate to Georgiana for her sons if I died childless?”

Shaking his head, Lord Matlock frowned.  “No.  Why?” 

“Are you certain?  It was always meant for me to marry Anne?  He truly wanted that?”

“Well . . . as I told you, he considered it an outstanding opportunity . . .”

“Granted, I recognize that, but he was going to speak to me about it.  He was going to give me the option to pass on Anne, was he not?”  Darcy stopped walking and the two men faced each other in the empty hallway.  “He had made no promises to Aunt?  Was it just an impression?”

Lord Matlock opened his mouth and closed it.  “I . . . I always presumed that was his intention, to have the estates joined.”

“But he did not mention that to me.  Ever.  I heard it enough from Aunt, but Father would just listen and not add to the conversation.  Aunt must have taken that as approval, where I assumed that he was just appeasing her and avoiding a confrontation.  Why would he want to wait until the entailment was broken to give me this news on my fate?”  His uncle’s head wagged as Darcy’s nodded.  “I am correct, then.”

“About . . .?”  Darcy was lost in thought and did not answer.  “Darcy . . . Darcy . . .” At last he looked up.  “That is water long under the bridge.  You are very happily married by all appearances.”

 “I am, extremely, and I just heard from your son the same advice to let it go.  But you can understand my desire to understand before I can put things behind me.”

“Of course I can.  Do you feel you can do that now?”

Darcy met his uncle’s eyes and smiled.  “Yes.”

“I am glad that I could help.  That is a great relief to me.”  Lord Matlock smiled and seemed a little proud of himself.

“Will you press Albert to marry Anne?”

“No.  I know that my wishes have never been particularly important to him.  I have hopes that he is changing, but I cannot really trust him, can I?”  He shrugged as Darcy did and sighed.  “I will not force him to the altar.  I will speak to him and leave it to him to decide.”

“I hope that you do that, Uncle.  I pray that you are honest when you say that.  Do not pressure him.  It will not be a satisfying decision for him if he was forced to make it by feeling guilt, and he must live with this all of his days.”  They began walking again and reached the portrait.   “It is well done.”  Darcy smiled when he felt his uncle’s eyes upon him.  “Forgive me, sir, but the wig . . .”

“I know, but I was so proud of that thing.  Damned pleased I do not wear it now, but nonetheless, when I was a boy, that is what I aspired to have.  Your wife was full of questions about it.  Perhaps I would be better off just putting the wig on display as a novelty.”

“I was always curious.”  Darcy bit his lip and looked around.  “What was it like, lovemaking with a woman whose hair was powdered?”  Lord Matlock’s eyes widened and he snorted as Darcy’s cheeks reddened.  “Never mind.”

“It was a bloody mess, is what it was!”  He laughed.  “What brought on that question?”

“I do not know.” 

“You are missing your father, I think.”  He said astutely.  “You spoke of him a great deal tonight and the subject keeps coming up in one way or another.” 

Darcy conceded the thought and shrugged.  “You are probably correct; I found some notes of his yesterday pertaining to the entailment.  Tell me, did he ever speak of his brother and his opinion of being essentially cut out from inheriting?”

“No.  But then your Father kept a great deal to himself.  I doubt that he shared a teaspoonful of his thoughts with my sister, where you seem to tell Elizabeth every whim that passes through your mind.”  Darcy looked at him sharply.  “I am not saying it is wrong, just exceptional.  She is your sounding board.  If your father was present, I imagine he would be.   Does she find herself surprised to be the recipient of your attention?”

“I . . . I do not know.”  Darcy bit his lip and looked back towards the room where he could hear Richard and Elizabeth laughing.  “I think it is time for us to depart.”

“Of course it is.”  Lord Matlock smiled and followed his nephew.  “I am surprised that you stayed this long.”

“ARE YOU CERTAIN about this, Lizzy?”  Darcy and Elizabeth stepped outside and looked up at the snow pouring down.  Turning to her, he laughed.  Her eyelashes already wore a fine coat of snow, and he gently brushed her face.  “Oh dear, you must not look up at me, love.  Uncle said he can have his carriage brought around in a few minutes.”

“You are equally decorated, but then, you are so much closer to the heavens than I.”  She smiled and brushed the flakes from his long lashes.  “We live so close, why roust those men and the horse from their warm beds?  If Richard was returning to the barracks it would be different, but for such a short distance it would be silly.  Besides, we need the exercise.”  She wrapped her arm around his.  “It is not even the distance from Pemberley House to the stables.”

“Well, not quite . . .”   Darcy kissed her softly.  “If you insist.”

“I do.”  Tugging him forward, they set off through Grosvenor Square towards Park Lane.  The growing layer of snow over the cobblestones effectively muffled the horse’s hooves and the rolling wheels of the occasional passing carriage, so it was unusually quiet in the white wonderland they occupied.  Darcy smiled down at her and then looked ahead.  Elizabeth watched him taking a long deep breath and the swirl of the condensation forming around him as he breathed it out.  “You feel better.”

“Is that a statement, question, or command?”  His eyes twinkled and she laughed.  “Perhaps all three?”

“Perhaps. I am glad that we left.”  Leaning on his arm, she took in the houses as they passed, occasionally they could catch glimpses of the people within, sometimes there was a child sitting in a window.  Elizabeth would lift her hand to wave, and delighted in the surprised smile she would earn. 

“Did you do that?  Sit in the window to watch the world go by?”

“Well you know Longbourn, not much of the world would go by our door, but I watched the weather, and whatever was happening with the servants in the yard.  How about you?”

“Hmm.”  He stopped walking and pointed.  “Do you see our roof?”

She followed his finger to the distant top of Darcy House.  “Yes.” 

“There is a window there . . . the square one by the chimney?”

“Yes.”

“That is for the nursery.”  He waved his hand around him.  “This was my view of the world for many years.”

“Your parents did not leave you at Pemberley?”

“No, Father wanted me with him.  He did not like leaving me behind.”  He shrugged and smiled when he found her steady gaze examining him.  “As a result, I have been trapped in carriages for more hours than I care to remember, travelling between here and there.  I became a very good reader.  Like you.”  

“So walking in the snow with me is a bit of a relief?  Or just a novelty?”  Elizabeth lifted her face to him.  They were just passing a glowing street lamp, and a small circle of light surrounded them and reflected over the untouched snow.  Her eyes were warm and sparkling, her cheeks, rosy from the cold, and her mouth . . .  Darcy stopped dead in his tracks and without a word pulled her into his arms and kissed those luscious red lips.  “Oh . . .”  She caught her breath when he lifted his head and searching her eyes for a moment, leaned in to kiss her again.  The snorting of a pair of horses awoke them to their public location.  Blushing furiously, Darcy turned so that Elizabeth could not be seen by the occupants of the carriage, but kept a tight hold of her hands.  “Forgive me.”