Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (147 page)

“But marrying me would have brought him my dowry!”

“Exactly, and he says flat out that he knew your brother would never approve of the match, so he claims he was blinded by love and runs away with you, taking his pleasure in you without benefit of marriage.  He destroys your most precious, guarded asset, your purity, all the while knowing that he will never marry you and while deceiving you into thinking you are bound to him for life.”  Georgiana’s hand was at her mouth.  “He was never blind, Georgiana.  He may have cared for you in his particular way, but if he did love you . . . he would have treated you
with
care.  Instead he took advantage of your innocence, most likely as a means of hurting your brother who would no longer fund his lifestyle.  It may have begun as revenge but in the end, he wound up hurting both of you, and so many more.”  Elizabeth followed her sister’s eyes and looked to her belly, “You are indeed carrying a piece of him with you, are you not?”

“Yes . . .” She sobbed. 

Elizabeth returned to the letter. “He is confident that you will be fine without him and will marry.  How very generous he is!”

“What do you mean?”  She wiped her eyes and looked at the letter. 

“He says that he will not tell anyone how he ruined you!”  She said with exaggerated gratitude.  “Again, his generosity is boundless!”

“I . . . I thought that he was sincere . . .”

“He fathered the child that you must carry for another four months.  If it makes the task easier to believe well of him, then so be it.  However, I believe that the truth of his sincerity lies within the pages of this letter to Fitzwilliam.  If it is truly an apology, I will grudgingly show him some charity.”  She picked up the envelope and stared at the seal, debating for a few moments the best course to take, then in one swift motion; she broke it open and unfolded the page.

22 February, 1812

Darcy,

I am sure that you do not want to read a letter from me and I am certain that any attempt I make to apologize for my decision to keep Georgiana for so long will be cursed, but I do apologize.  My reasons for taking her no longer matter, but believe me when I say that I do care for her and I am glad that she is at home.  That is why I wrote to you with her location.  I knew that without marriage, we could not continue as we were, and I knew that you would rather have her spend life as a spinster than be married to me.  I could have done it, Darcy.  At any time I could have gone on to Gretna Green and sealed the contract, give me some credit for not carrying through with it.  Why I did not I will keep to myself.

I know of your accident, and was close enough recently to see that you and Mrs. Darcy are recovered.  I have also been close enough to draw some conclusions about my wife.  I call her my wife because I feel that Georgiana is pregnant with my baby conceived while she believed we were married.  I know that you, Darcy, will try your level best to keep this a secret.  Whatever you plan to do is fine with me.  If I am not to be part of her life, then I can think of no better man to look after her and my child.  I presume that the baby will be sent to a suitable home and will be supervised all of its life by you, the good, if anonymous uncle.  I assume that your careful plan will see Georgiana eventually being brought out to make an appropriate marriage with a thoroughly vetted and approved friend of yours.  All will be well with life at Pemberley once again.  Except for one thing, I am not part of it and you still owe me ten thousand pounds.  

I wrote to you and gave you our location on the condition of payment.  I am now giving you an address where to send it.  Please note that this is not where I live, and if you hire a man to watch day and night, it will still not help you to trace me.  Do not try to find me.  I will take your money and disappear for good this time.  I have no desire to hurt Georgiana further, I want her to be happy in her life, but I must bow to reality and concede that I need some capital to continue.  Your father made me a gentleman, and I intend to live that way.

Otherwise, I will have to talk.  And then the only remedy will be for you to approve our marriage and to make our baby legitimate.  So what will it be, Darcy?  Ten thousand for silence or thirty thousand and a new brother?  Either way, I will be very happy.  In truth, nothing would make me happier than to spend my days back at Pemberley with the woman I love.

Wickham

“Oh my . . .” Elizabeth held her hand to her heart.  “What gall!  He takes the knife and twists it in the wound.”  Angry tears filled her eyes.  “He demands payment for protection, but makes it sound as if he is doing Fitzwilliam a favour!  He is all goodness, and he plays Fitzwilliam for a fool!  But what choice does he have?  Why is it always Fitzwilliam who must save everyone?”  She wiped her face.  “I must show him this . . . there is no alternative . . . If I had the funds I would pay him myself.”  She looked at the address printed at the bottom of the page but the street was meaningless to her, somewhere in London.  “I could tell Richard . . . but he can do nothing either, can he?” 

“Elizabeth?”  Georgiana asked tentatively and tugged the letter from her hand. 

Elizabeth let go and stood to go look out of the window.  She could just see the top of Darcy’s tall hat in the distance as he walked with Mr. Barnes.  “What am I to do?”  She whispered.

Georgiana looked to her sister and with her heart in her throat, read the letter.  “He says that he would expose me!”  She cried.  “But . . . he said in his letter to me that he never would do such a thing!”

“He knows Fitzwilliam well; a threat to his family is most effective.  He would do anything to protect us.”  Elizabeth murmured and lifted her hand to wave at him when he caught sight of her and smiled as he approached the front door.  Turning, Elizabeth walked quickly across the room and took the letter from Georgiana’s hand, folded it and placing it with the drawing, stuffed it into her bodice.  She stared at her startled sister.  “Not a word of this to him, do you hear me?  I will tell him in my own time.  He does not need more.”

“Yes, Elizabeth.”   Georgiana whispered and took the handkerchief that was shoved into her hands. 

“Wipe your eyes and try to look pleased about something.”  Elizabeth stood before the window again, looking at her reflection and trying to achieve some semblance of calm in her demeanour.  The sound of Darcy’s boots across the floor made her turn and face the door.  As the handle began to turn, she glanced at Georgiana.  “I do hope that your opinion of Mr. Wickham has been permanently altered and that you are prepared to fight for the one man in your life who deserves your love?”  Before she could answer the door opened and Darcy, clearly fighting to paste a pleasant expression on his face, entered the room. 

“Here you are.” 

“Where else could I possibly be?”  Elizabeth smiled and walked up to him, taking his hands in hers.  “Trust me; I have no interest in further exercise today.” 

“Then I shall send away the quartet I ordered to provide us music for dancing after dinner.”  He closed his eyes and gladly pulled her into his arms. 

“
Now
you tell me.”  Elizabeth said softly while he kissed her hair.  “I was going to suggest a nice bath, the water is heating . . .”

“To share?”  He whispered in her ear.

“Of course.”

“I love you.”  Elizabeth laughed and looked back up to him.  His brow furrowed.  “Have you been crying, dearest?”  He stroked the curls from her cheeks.  “What is wrong?”  Looking to Georgiana, he saw her eyes were reddened as well.  “Georgiana?” 

“They are happy tears, Will.”  Elizabeth spoke and his head swivelled away from his wide-eyed sister.  “I received a letter from Jane.  She and Mr. Bingley . . .
Charles
. . . are to marry in a fortnight.  The joy she describes at Longbourn is palpable in her letter.”

“So my friend was convincing at last!”  Darcy relaxed and laughed.  “Good for him, I am very happy for him.  I will write a letter in the morning offering my congratulations.”

“And I will have another to enclose for Jane.”  She hugged him and he happily kissed her brow. 

“I suppose that the joy was contagious, Georgiana, if it moved you to tears?”

“Oh . . . I cry at everything nowadays.”  She smiled and spontaneously came over to hug him.  “I love you so much, Fitzwilliam.”

“Well . . .  My goodness, thank you.”  Confused, he looked over the top of her head to Elizabeth.  “I love you, too, dear.” 

“Thank you for protecting me.”  She let go.  “When shall we go to Scotland?”

“Harris and I think that next week will be fine . . .” He glanced at Elizabeth.  “He was saddened with the news, but I trust his discretion.  He will speak to Ben after we depart.”   She nodded and he turned to Georgiana.  “Elizabeth explained why we had to tell him?”

“Yes, sir.  I understand.”  She saw Elizabeth looking to the door pointedly.  “If you will excuse me, I . . . should probably decide what I will be taking . . .”

Darcy watched her go and turned back to Elizabeth.  “What was that all about?  Something is different.” 

“We had a sisterly talk.”  She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head over his heart. 

Looking down, he studied her closed eyes and felt her embrace tightening.  “It is beating well, love.” 

Her head turned and she kissed his chest.  “Then we shall just keep it that way.”

Darcy rubbed his hands up and down her arms and closing his eyes, rested his cheek upon her hair.  “Just tell me.”

“Tell you?”

“Whatever it is that you are trying to hide.  I would rather hear it now then spend the next hours or days trying to read your mind, because as I have proven time and again, it is not a skill that I possess.”

“Yes it is, you know that something is bothering me.” 

“You were listening to my heart.  If I cannot read that clue then I am a fool indeed.”  Kissing her brow, he whispered, “Tell me.” 

“Perhaps we should go upstairs . . . “

Darcy’s head wagged and letting go of her, he closed the door.  “You are not going to distract me with you wiles, Mrs. Darcy.”  He took her hand and pulled her down upon a sofa.  “Tell me.  Does it have anything at all to do with the sound of paper crinkling when I embrace you?”  His head tilted and his lips lifted when she sighed.  “Shall I retrieve whatever is hidden in there?”

“That will distract you . . .”

“Excellent point.”  He held out his hand.  Reluctantly, Elizabeth drew out the letters and placed them into his palm. 

“That one is first.”  She said softly.

Biting his lip, he opened it, first looking to the signature, and in a reflection of his wife, his eyes narrowed and he began to read.  “Some things never change.  He is a master of manipulation.”  Looking up to her, he nodded. “At least we know for certain that they never married.” 

“Yes, that was worth reading.  Do you believe that he is sincere in his affection?” 

“Do you?” 

“I do not know, but for Georgiana’s sake, I think that it would be better for her to believe that he did care for her and gave her up for good reasons rather than leave her jaded and bitter for being used and played as a fool.” 

“That is a very fine line, Elizabeth.”  He sighed and looked back to the page.  “Well . . . obviously this letter alone is not what upset you.  Disgusted maybe, but not upset.”  Reading her eyes, he set the first note down and steeling himself, opened the second.  Almost immediately, his head started to shake.  “Good God.”  He jumped to his feet and started pacing.  “He pours out his heart to Georgiana while stabbing me in the back!  He loves her but not quite enough to forget that she is an heiress . . .”  His hand ran through his hair and revolted, he balled the page up and threw it at the fireplace.  Elizabeth fished it from the grate before it could burn.  “
Why
would you save that?”

“It bears the address where he wants the payment sent . . .”

“I am
not
going to pay him!”  Darcy declared.  “No, no, no.  I have done that in the past, and my sister is paying dearly already for his favour.  If he thinks that he will slip his hand into my purse again, then he is a fool.”  Spinning, he strode back across the room.

“But he is threatening exposing her!  Is that not worth paying him?”

Darcy slumped against a window and twisted his ring.  “‘
Who steals my purse steals trash, ‘tis something, nothing, ‘twas mine, ‘tis his, and has been slave to thousands.  But he that filches from me my good name robs me of that which not enriches him, and makes me poor indeed.
’”  He stared out at the estate and was silent for several very long moments.  “He has done that before, spoken ill against me.  The only one who really cared was you.”  He turned to her and drawing a deep breath, smiled.  “Because you loved me.” 

“My father is the one who listened.” 

“Because he loved you . . . and he wanted to hear bad news against my character.” 

“But ruining Georgiana’s name is different from speaking against a rich and powerful man . . .”

“Aunt Catherine spoke quite loudly against you, did she not?  And you overcame it . . .”

“It would not have been nearly as easy if she had not made the effort herself to speak publicly, though.  And I was willing to face my . . . enemies.”

“I know.”  Darcy folded his arms and remained in place.  Clearly he was thinking hard about what to do and Elizabeth was grateful to see that he was not raging wildly, but was very impatient to climb inside of his head.  Finally she sat down with a flounce and he started.   “I am sorry . . . Was I ignoring you?”

“No, but I would like to know why you are not sick with worry?  Why have you calmed?”

“Oh.”  He joined her on the sofa and picked up Wickham’s letter to Georgiana.  “Because I believe you are correct, he cares for her.  He as much as admits that he is a changed man because of her, and frankly, he has had months to come after me for money.  Granted he might have been laying low after we found her in fear of Richard or my uncle coming to kill him, but he says right here that he has knocked on my door in the past and that he realizes the well is dry, especially after this.  How he knew she was pregnant bothers me, but . . . it seems that he has not been far away from us.  Why would that be?”