Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (17 page)

Darcy marvelled.  “You are so quick, Elizabeth.”

“You will let your own child . . .
My
son . . .” He watched as she puzzled out the sad truth.  “You are willing to sacrifice
our
child to legitimize the bastard of your sister and her rapist to save her reputation?” 

“And what would you have done with the child?”  He cried defensively, “Send him to a foundling home?  Set him up with some tenant in need of a male to work the fields?  I have no family to give him to, I have
nobody
.  The child may be Wickham’s but it is also a Darcy, and I will
not
knowingly abandon a child of my family.  And before you ask, my uncle has made it clear that he feels the baby is disposable, not once has he made an offer to take him despite his knowledge of the situation, and I know enough not to broach the subject.  Of the family, he is the only one I would remotely consider as acceptable.” 

Darcy tried to calm his emotions, but his frustration was clear.  “Everywhere I turn I am told I am making a mistake with this decision.  But nobody offers any better solution.  What am I to do, I beg you, give me guidance.  How can I save my fifteen-year-old sister from a forced marriage to whoever would take her, and also save this child from a life of forever being reminded he is unwanted and worthless?” 

Matching his passion she waved her hands in frustration.  “I am not suggesting that your desire to help a child of your blood is wrong, but I question the method you have chosen.  This would be a colossal lie!”

“The burden weighs my thoughts now, and it has not even begun.”  Darcy clasped his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees.  “My uncle proposed that my cousin Samuel Darcy marry her, and he might have been willing if there was no child.  His father is extremely unhappy with his decision, but I cannot say that I blame him, and hold no offence against him.”

Elizabeth stayed across the room and tried to moderate her voice.  “This is the same uncle who would not take the child himself?”  Darcy nodded.  “Has your cousin an estate?”

“No, he is a lawyer.  He is just come of age and is feeling the power of independence from his father.  Perhaps if he was older he would see it differently.  Georgiana’s dowry is thirty thousand pounds, and they do get along.” 

“Do you not wish more for your sister than just getting along, Fitzwilliam?   Is that not what you want?”  Elizabeth asked pointedly and he thought of Mr. Bennet and his statement that she have better than a marriage of convenience.  “Oh, and your uncle does not see the child as disposable if he is willing to marry his son to your sister to be the father.  He wants that dowry for your cousin.  But that young man sees everything clearly, without your emotion.  He is unwilling to give up his first born son’s rights, and yet you are willing to throw away our child’s birthright because your sister was a fool?”

Darcy did not introduce his opinion that his uncle would still find a way to dispose of the child.  Instead he sighed and looked at his hands.  “You have met Wickham, Elizabeth . . .”

“Yes, he is a smooth, charming man, I agree, but your sister has had the benefit of a fine education.  I know, I have certainly heard about it!  She knew better!”

“She thought she was married.”  Darcy said defensively.

“She still ran away!  What consequences is she facing because of this?  Yes, she is with child but you will make it go away by whisking the baby into
my
arms to call my own?  So that she can return to her pretty life as the well-dowered and very eligible Miss Darcy?  What will she feel being called Aunt by her own child, and hearing it call me Mother?  Please do not tell me that I should feel compensated for my sacrifice by the title of Mistress of Pemberley and all that goes with it?  And you; have you not dreams of your own that are being dashed by this decision?  Have
you
not dreamed of teaching your son, your children, everything of yourself?  How can this be the solution?”  Elizabeth was now standing directly in front of him. 

“Lizzy?”  Mr. Bennet called and opened the door.  He looked between the two.  “If your goal is to keep your affairs to yourselves, you should lower your voices; I just chased away your sisters and Mr. Collins.  Fortunately we only heard noise, but any louder and I am sure Mr. Collins would be preaching the details to his benefactress.” 

“Mr. Collins.”  Darcy glared and his face reddening, he pointed to Elizabeth.  “Tell me what to do, madam!  You are full of pronouncements on the uselessness of my plans!  Fine, you tell me how to resolve this!”  He crossed his arms and stared.  “I am waiting!”

“And I am to solve this within moments of hearing how you have determined my future?”  Elizabeth glared back.  “Thank you for your confidence!  You set me up for failure!”

“You need time?”  Darcy nodded and strode from the room.

“Where are you going?”  Elizabeth flew after him as he walked through the house, searching for a passage somewhere to take him towards the smell of the kitchen.  At last he banged open the door, startling staff sitting around the table at tea, and found his coat on the back of a chair next to the fireplace, his breeches hanging nearby.  Snatching up his coat, he pulled it on.  “You want time to consider the problem; you want time to best my solution.  I give it to you.  It is yours.”  Mr. Bennet appeared with Collins beside him.  Darcy turned to the reverend.  “Mr. Collins, I presume?”

“Yes, yes, sir, Mr. Darcy, it is an honour, a great honour . . .”

Darcy stared at him.  “Why is it an honour?  Are you not competing with me for Miss Elizabeth?”

“I . . . I . . . you are my patroness’s nephew . . .”

“Then you must decide who you are fawning over.”  Darcy turned back to Elizabeth.  “And you, Elizabeth Bennet, must decide which fate you wish.  All secrets are on the table madam, you cannot plead ignorance when making decisions now.   This is your choice.”  He looked at Collins. “Remain in your family home forever with this man . . .” Then looking back to her, his voice and look softened, “Or take a leap into the unknown with me.”

“Mr. Darcy, the way you are speaking to my cousin, it is not seemly, you must treat a lady’s feelings delicately.  Then she will be willing to . . .”

Both Elizabeth and Darcy turned to Collins and barked.  “Quiet!”  They startled and looked at each other.  Darcy’s face coloured as hers did.

Elizabeth spoke gently.  “I was not rejecting you Fitzwilliam, only questioning the course you had chosen and without consideration of my feelings.”

“And now you are free to consider them.”  He drew himself up.  “I will accept your decision; it is up to you to choose which life you can abide.”  Elizabeth watched his jaw working and suddenly he stepped forward, slipping his hand around the back of her head and drawing her face to him, kissed her deeply until he felt her tentative and reassuring response.  Moving his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I need you so.”  Letting go he gave her a last solemn look then brushed past the men, and out of the kitchen.  Elizabeth swayed for a heartbeat, deaf to her father’s and Collins’ voices, and went after him, but his long legs had already taken him out the front door. 

Mrs. Bennet stood watching him mount his horse.  “That man!  Can he not close a door?  At least the rain has stopped so the hall is not flooding!”   

Elizabeth ran past her and grabbed the bridle before he could move.  “Where are you going?”

“To Netherfield.”  His eyes burned into hers.  “I am giving you time, is that not what you want?  You do not want to be forced into anything?”

“Would you?”

“No.”  He held her gaze.  “Can you understand my feelings?  I am torn with anger at my sister and Wickham and self-loathing for failing her and my father.  I failed to protect her, and I have done the same and worse with you.” 

Elizabeth held tightly to the nervous animal and tried to speak calmly.  “I do not want Georgiana to suffer any more than you do, but Fitzwilliam Darcy!  Our son, should we be blessed with one,
will
be Master of Pemberley.  That sir; is a condition of this marriage that I will not sacrifice.  I grew up in a household that suffered for having no heir.  If by some miracle I manage to give you one; I want that child to receive his due.”  She was surprised to see his eyes soften.  “What are you doing?  How dare you look so vulnerable!   I am still furious with you!”

“But you still want to marry me and bear my children.  Despite my sister’s shame, despite my . . . foolish plans, despite my leaving you here without thinking of the consequences, you still want me.”  His eyes were brightening and he blinked the emotion back.  “Never could I have dared to imagine such a reaction, Elizabeth.”

“Well . . .” She let go of the horse and crossing her arms protectively, moved under the shelter of the porch.  “It would be foolish for me to reject you now, after all the fuss you have caused; my reputation would be harmed irrevocably.  You should feel obligated to protect it; after all, I should be as important as your sister, I am to be your wife.”

Darcy dismounted and walked towards her.  “I never wanted to risk hurting your good name.”

“You thought of yourself.”  She lifted her chin.  “So I shall follow your example.  This marriage is purely . . . self-preservation for me and my family since none of us want to marry Mr. Collins.”

“Yes.”  He said softly and stood looking down at her.

She put her hand out, palm forward.  “Do not even think about kissing me again, sir.” 

Shaking his head slowly, he spoke seriously, “I
will
think about it, Elizabeth.  You cannot stop me; you cannot stop me from remembering the taste and feel of you.”  He watched a blush spread up her chest to her face, and prayed that she was reliving his touch.  It was all he could do to remain still, but he stood straight and for lack of a better occupation, clasped his hands behind his back and fixed his eyes upon her.  “Until one of us devises a better plan, we will continue with the one I have proposed.  I thought that we would announce your pregnancy in February.”  Embarrassed, she looked away.  “Georgiana is; we believe, perhaps two months along, if she does not miscarry, she will give birth in July.” 

“This is why you said that you would not assert your rights as a husband immediately.”  She stared steadily at the horse.

“Yes.”  He said shortly and followed her gaze.

“I thought it was because you were being sensitive to my feelings after this sudden proposal.” 

“I was.”

“No.”  She returned her gaze to him.  “I saw the way you looked at me when my dress was wet.”

Darcy’s face coloured.  “Any breathing man would have looked at you that way, Elizabeth.”

“How do you think you looked?”  She blushed, but smiled as she challenged him.

“I . . . I . . .”

“Like a wolf?”

“I hope not!”  He stared.  “Did I?”

“No.”  She shook her head.  “No, but even as inexperienced as I am, I know precisely what you were thinking.”

“And that was?”  He demanded.

“Something that I will tell you when you think of a better plan than this, lest I emulate the Bible with a miraculous birth.”  Elizabeth nodded.  “There sir, my revenge is underway.”

“As I am the one who has devised this suffering, I assure you that your revenge will be your proximity while also remaining entirely out of reach.”  He sighed.  “At least you do not know what you are missing.”

“Do you?  No, do not answer, because I cannot bear the thought of it.”  Darcy’s mouth opened and the dumbfounded pleasure her declaration brought him flustered her completely.  She drew herself up and raised her brow.  “Do we need another conversation concerning your behaviour during this period of self-imposed chastity?  Or for that matter for the entirety of our marriage?”

Darcy’s smile grew.  “How I admire you.  The vows I take with you are absolute.”

“As are mine.”   She announced and relaxing a little, basked in the confirmation of his respect.

“Elizabeth.”  Darcy asked softly.  “Did Wickham touch you?”

The smile left her lips.  “No more than a kiss to the hand, and I threatened to slap him if he did not stop.”

“What else did he do?”  He stepped closer.  “Tell me everything.”

“So you may torture yourself with the thoughts?”  Elizabeth shook her head.  “No, suffice it to say he had nothing good to say of you, he suggested that I was ideal for him, and he pitied any regard that I held for you.”

Darcy’s teeth bared, “And he knows that we are engaged.”

“Yes.”  She touched his arm.  “He has no reason to come near you; he demonstrated his fear by leaving town.  Whatever revenge he felt for you, surely it is paid back with your sister’s innocence?” 

“I pray so.”  Darcy took her hand and kissed it, then caressed his fingers over her hair.  “I would talk to you like this until dawn, but I think that I will do as I said, and leave you to think in peace.”

“I will marry you, Fitzwilliam.” 

“I know that.”  He smiled a little.  “Thank you.”  Again his hand caressed over her hair.

“Have you a pen knife?”

“A pocket knife, yes.”  Drawing it from his waistcoat, he showed it to her and his brow furrowed quizzically.  “What . . .?”

“Cut a token, Fitzwilliam.”  She smiled and he drew in a breath, and opened the blade.  Biting his lip, he selected a curl and cut it off, then looking at it he heard Elizabeth clear her throat and saw her holding out her hand.  He tilted his head and started to place the curl in it.  “No sir, I believe that you have something else of mine.”  Creasing his brow, his mouth opened and his face coloured.  Putting the knife away, he reached into his coat to produce her handkerchief and reluctantly put it into her hand.  Opening the square of cambric, she coiled the curl on top. “There.”  She folded it up and pressed it into his palm. 

“Thank you.”  He gripped her fingers and leaned forward then rocked back.  “No kisses, you remain angry.”

“I do.” 

Darcy remained silent, searching hopelessly for words to allay her fear, wanting more than anything to comfort her somehow, and wanting so much to feel her arms around him again.  At last he gave up.  “Very well.  I will await your summons, until then I shall see if I can determine Wickham’s location.  Until then I will keep the settlement in my chambers.  Only when you call will I bring it to your father.”