Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (36 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
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“You make me sound ancient!”

“You are avoiding the question.”  His eyes twinkled and he found the feather from the quill tickling his nose, and snatched it from her.  “I will coax it out of you, one day.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“I can command you to tell me.”  Darcy looked up from signing and handed her the pen.  Elizabeth’s expression nearly succeeded in making him laugh out loud, instead he stood behind her, his hand caressing the small of her back as he watched her sign below his name and set down the pen.  Softly he whispered, “In all things, dearest, I will prefer you coming to me willingly.”

“Mr. Darcy!”  Mr. Collins startled them.  “Mrs. Darcy!”  He bowed low.  “What a joyous occasion!  What a sight to behold!  I am leaving, this minute, to return to Hunsford.  Forgive me for not staying longer, but my patroness demands that I not miss another service, and I am certain that you will be glad to know that I will bring her the tidings of your wedding immediately upon arrival!  She will surely be anxious to know that the vows were taken and that I have affirmed the sanctity of the ceremony.  I regret that I could not participate . . .” He paused, waiting to hear apologies, but hearing nothing, continued on.  “. . . however, that may have been unwise considering your aunt’s objections.  I am sure that she will come around.”  He waited and bobbed, receiving blank stares.  “Well.  My dear cousin, I shall regret, all of my days, that I was too late to win your hand, but perhaps we shall be closer relations than this before too long.”  He glanced back at Mary and then to Elizabeth, who gave him a weak smile.  “Mr. Darcy, or shall I call you Cousin?”

“Mr. Darcy.”

“Oh, well yes, of course!”  He cleared his throat.  “Any message for your aunt?” 

“No.”

“Oh, well I will tell her you will, I will . . .” He coughed when Darcy’s cold eyes bore into him.  “Off I go, then!”  He bowed.  “The greatest of felicitations to you both.” 

“Safe journey, Mr. Collins.”  Elizabeth called and looked up to Darcy.  “I shall be eternally grateful that you rescued me.”

“If I had not proposed when I did, I know that when Reverend Pierson asked for objections to the ceremony, I would have charged up the aisle to save you.”  He took her hand and kissed it.  Outside of the church, their family and friends waited to cheer their departure for Longbourn.  “How long must we stay at the breakfast?”

“I have said my goodbyes already, so whenever you are . . .” She laughed when his eyes lit up.  “No, not right now, we have to appear.”  He sighed.  “But after a suitable interval, we may go.”

“Thank you.”  Darcy looked around, everyone had left the church, and they were quite alone.  The quiet of the sanctuary was suddenly disturbed by the tolling of the church bells, announcing their marriage to the world.  “There you go . . . your sign that we are married.”  He took her hands in his, caressing them with his thumbs.  Elizabeth watched, knowing already that this was a signal of his affection that she would witness and wish for all the days of their lives.  “Elizabeth . . . I meant every word of my vows. 
Every
one.”  He looked back up to her, the familiar stare making her heart leap.  “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”  She smiled, and as his smile appeared, hers grew, until they were in each other’s arms and embraced.  “Fitzwilliam?”

“Yes, dearest?”  He whispered into her fragrant hair. 

“I meant every word of my vows, too.”  Darcy’s hold tightened.  “Except for one.”  He let go and his eyes searched hers worriedly.  “Obey.”  She laughed and he chuckled, hugging her tightly to him again.

“We will just see about that, Mrs. Darcy.”  Withdrawing, he looked down at her mouth and leaned forward to capture her lips. 

“Mr. Darcy!  We are in church!”  Elizabeth gasped and laughed.

“You are teasing me; I will kiss that smile away.”  He growled.

Pressing her palms to his chest, she held him back.  “Are your kisses so distasteful that they would make me frown?”   She watched his eyes close and reached up touch his mouth.  “Oh dear, what sort of a man have I married?  First he wishes to kiss me within the church and now he says that it will give me no pleasure at all.  Have I made a terrible mistake?”

“Good Lord.”  Darcy groaned.  His eyes opened to find hers sparkling up at him.  Cupping her jaw, he ran his thumb over her soft lips and steadily met her gaze.  “You have made
no
mistake.  Trust me.”

 

Chapter 12

 

“U
mmmph!”  Wickham grunted when he was thrown against the wall and slid to the floor. 

“DAMN YOU!”  The tall man roared.   Striding across the room he grabbed Wickham by the neck cloth and pulled him back up to his feet.  “I paid you to pay court and propose an elopement.  Disappear for an afternoon and leave her ruined in her brother’s eyes!  
Not
to hold her hostage for months and bed her! 
What
were you thinking?  How dare you cross me!”

Choking, Wickham clawed at the strangling cloth and in desperation kicked at the man’s legs.   Remembering the dagger he kept in his pocket, he jammed it into his opponent’s arm.  Instantly the man cried out and let go.  Not wasting a second, Wickham broke free and ran.

The man clapped his hand over the wound, swearing as blood soaked his coat, and watched through the grimy window as Wickham flew unsteadily down the alley.  “I am not through with you!  You will pay for this!  I never forget!”

 

“AND THAT IS THE STORY of my first riding lesson.”  Darcy ended and looked up from his lap to see Elizabeth with her hand to her mouth.  Her eyes were alive and she was trying valiantly to hold back her laughter in the face of her solemn husband.  “Elizabeth!  I do not think it was at all an amusing story!”

“Forgive me, Fitzwilliam, but . . . oh . . . you are such an imposing man, and the image you paint of this child ordering around an obstinate pony . . .” At last the laughter bubbled up and she leaned against his shoulder and wiped her eyes.  “Oh my!”  Darcy took her hand and held it, and allowed a smile to appear.  She looked up to him.  “This is so nice, talking like this, and so wonderfully unexpected.  I have no memory of my parents ever speaking this way.” 

“It is something I had only dreamed to experience with the woman I married.  I honestly expected to live quite separately from whoever it would have been.   I hope that it is something we can enjoy always.”  He squeezed her hand when she nodded in agreement.  “I do not know what it was, but we stepped into the carriage, faced with the hours travelling home, and it suddenly occurred to me that we have never been in such intimate company for so long before.”

“Well, there
was
that afternoon in the library.”  Darcy raised her hand to his lips.  She blushed and lifted her chin, “Usually we were facing some crisis or another.  I suppose surviving the wedding breakfast does not count?”  She smiled when he sighed.  “I know what you mean; we have never just talked about ourselves.  You become very shy.”

“So do you.  I always suspected that you were shy about yourself.  I find it very attractive, just as attractive as I find the obstinate woman who is not afraid to speak her mind when she is protecting herself or the ones she cares for.”  Darcy caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, then lifting her chin, kissed her, and feeling his heartbeat increasing, he leaned down to kiss her again.  “Elizabeth . . .” Their arms wound around each other and their kisses deepened.  His mouth moved against her cheek to taste her earlobe and tilting her head back, she moaned softly as his lips found her throat.  Allowing his hand to glide up her waist to move all too briefly over her breast, Darcy determinedly drew away, but continued to caress her rosy cheek.  “You are temptation, the very definition.”  Swallowing hard, he willed himself not to be drawn back to her soft, inviting mouth, but found himself leaning forward again all the same.  The carriage ran over a hole in the cobblestones and jolted them against each other.  Darcy immediately took advantage and held her to him.  “Are you well?”

“That is a difficult question to answer, I am afraid.”  She closed her eyes and felt more than heard his soft laugh. 

“I am glad to know that you are as affected as I, Lizzy.  It has been a very difficult trip thus far, trying so hard to be the proper gentlemen when a part of me I never knew existed is rejoicing in your presence.” 

Elizabeth started and sitting up, searched for which topic to tackle first.  “I . . . Fitz . . . Lizzy!  You have never called me Lizzy!”

“Do you mind?”  He smiled and reached to entwine a curl of hair in his fingers.  “Elizabeth is my beautiful, challenging, exceptional wife and owns my heart and my passion.  Lizzy is my muse, my imp, my playmate, and owns my desire.”  Her face registered her astonishment with his declaration.  “You drive me to distraction.  How can I resist when your very touch sends my pulse racing?”

“You were resisting me all this time?”

“My pulse was racing.”  Darcy’s brows lifted and he looked at her seriously.

“Oh.”  She bit her lip and caressed over the soft hair on his cheek.  “I thought that you despise disguise of any sort.”  She smiled when his head shook and he drew her back into his arms.

Darcy kissed her temple and rested his cheek on her head.  “I see that I have made a mistake confessing how you affect me.  Behave, temptress, we are nearly home.”

Elizabeth laughed, and snuggling into his clasp, looked out of the carriage window.  “I have never been to this part of London.  We passed the edges of Mayfair, but . . .” 

“How often have you been to Town?”

“Every summer since I was fifteen I would come for a month or so. Jane would travel with me.  Mama hoped we would find husbands here.”  She felt his grip and closed her eyes.

“That man who wrote verses for Jane when she was fifteen, was that when she came here?”

“Yes.  She was terrified of him.  Luckily Papa said she was too young and he went on his way.”

“Did you ever receive such attentions?”  Darcy studied her intently and was very relieved to see her head shake.  “The last five summers we were here together.”

“Well, hardly together.”  She looked back up to him.  “Perhaps we met halfway one evening at Drury Lane or Covent Garden.”  The road she was used to taking appeared and disappeared; and she could not help but crane her neck to look down it. 

Darcy noted the direction her eyes took, towards Cheapside.  “You attended the theatre?”

“We rarely went out, but Uncle always treated us to one performance somewhere.  I always wished to attend the opera, but,” she shrugged.  “Uncle did not care for it; he called it an acquired taste he had no desire to own.  So we attended musical performances or plays.  I enjoyed it so much.  I was just happy to go, I could not complain, and you know how I love to laugh.”  Darcy smiled.  “It was always the last week of our stay.  Our farewell treat.”

“How do you know if you would care for the opera?” 

“I do not.  I like the idea of singing the story, how much emotion could the performer put into his voice?  I have read a few, but I could not pretend to imagine what it would sound like.”

Darcy looked at her with great interest.  “You read translations?” 

“No.”  She blushed when his eyes lit up.  “I . . . I can read enough Italian to muddle through text, and I can speak and read French, although I am sure that my pronunciation is abominable.  I could only practice with Papa and a few others.”

“Elizabeth!”  He beamed.  “So let me see, you can play, sing, sew, dance, know languages . . .”

“But I am not a great reader.”  Elizabeth laughed.

“Yes, you are, I rarely have seen you sitting still without a book in hand.”  Darcy lifted her fingers to his lips.  “You are quite accomplished.  What else?  You are a great walker.”

She groaned and he chuckled.  “I am a dab hand at healing.  Just wait until you have a cold, I will bring you around quickly.”

“If you care for me as diligently as you did your sister, I may have to feign symptoms just to keep your undivided attention as long as possible.” 

“I do not think that you have to fear being abandoned.”  Elizabeth reached up to trace his brow, then seeing the return of his intense look, blushed and turned to the window.  “We are slowing.”

“We are on Park Lane, Elizabeth.  Our street.  See, Hyde Park is nearly at our doorstep?”

“Oh!”  She smiled to see the bare trees and turned back to him.  “I always wished to visit there!”

“Now you may every day.  And we can visit the gardens when the weather warms; I know you will enjoy that.  There are many other parks nearby, at least for a woman who is not afraid to walk.”  Touching her hand, he drew her attention back to the street.  “And there is our home.  Darcy House.”

“That?”  Her hand flew to her mouth. 

“Yes.”  Darcy watched the myriad of emotions play on her face.

Straightening, she shot him a look.  “You are not so very grand!  How many Longbourns fit in there?”

“Oh . . . two perhaps.  It really is not so large.”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy!”

“Look!”  He put his arm around her waist and pointed down the street.  “Grosvenor House; newly expanded.  Now do you see how insignificant we are?”

“I see how ridiculously large that home is, but it does not diminish yours in the least.  Who lives there?”

“The Earl of Grosvenor.  His family owns most of this land, or did at one time.  Much of it is leased.”

“Is yours?”

“No.”  His lips twitched. 

“How did your family manage that?”  She smiled to see his pleasure.  “Another story to tell?”

“Mmmm, yes.”  He kissed her hand when the carriage rolled to a stop.  “Well, Mrs. Darcy?”

Elizabeth looked uncomfortably up at the imposing facade.  “Suddenly I feel very inadequate.” 

Tilting his head, Darcy decided that a challenge was needed.  “You are not afraid, are you?  It is a house, nothing more.  Rooms full of furniture, no different from any other.  Who is afraid of a sofa?  Would you hide behind it?”

“Do I have reason to?”  Elizabeth asked suspiciously.

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