Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (62 page)

“Dizzy?”  She caressed his brow, studying his eyes and the confusion within.  “Do you think that the port was . . . I do not know, what can happen to port?”

“It can spoil, but I think that makes it unpalatable, not poisonous.  It was not particularly good, but it did not taste odd, there was nothing floating in the glass.  Lowry certainly would not have served it if he felt there was something amiss with the bottle when he opened it.”  His hand stroked over her hair and he searched her face.  “Did you feel ill at all?  Perhaps it was something at Uncle’s?”

“We had the same things.  You must have caught a cold or . . . perhaps it is the anticipation of seeing Georgiana.  Sometimes Mama becomes ill when she is upset . . .” 

Darcy shook his head, “I am not one to suffer from nerves, Elizabeth.  And Georgiana was definitely not the woman on my mind at that moment.” 

“Oh.”  She blushed when she realized what he meant.  “Well, what else could it be?  Shall I call the physician?”

“I am flabbergasted that you did not.”

“I grew up in Meryton, Will.  The apothecary was the best we had, the doctor was far away.  We learned to care for ourselves.”  She whispered and rested her head back on his chest.  “He would just want to bleed you, anyway.”

Darcy kissed her hair and murmured, “Most likely.” 

“We will delay our travel.”

“No.” 

She stared at him, “Will, you are unwell!  The last place you want to be ill is in a carriage, away from the familiar.  There is no hurry to travel to Pemberley.”

“We need to go home, I am . . . admittedly I ache in places that I have never hurt before and I feel as if I have been thoroughly kicked by a horse, but my head is reasonably clear.”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy, do not be a fool!”

“Remaining here would just make me unhappy that we did not go.  I am not pleasant company in such circumstances.”  He raised his brow but she did not flinch in the face of his stare.  “I have no desire to eat, I promise you, and no desire to exercise.  I am barely keeping my eyes open now.  If I am going to be sedentary, let me do it in our coach.”

“You are feeling better if you are giving commands.”  She said shortly.

“I thought I was speaking very quietly.”  Darcy’s eyes warmed and he brushed her hair behind her ear, seeing the trepidation she would not express.  “I feel this is the best course.”

“Let us sleep; and we will decide in the morning.” 

“I love you, too, dearest.”  He tipped her chin up and they kissed.  “I should send a note to my uncle and tell him about the port, just in case.  And to my cousins and Uncle Darcy to be sure they did not become ill.”

Exasperated with his refusal to be still, she pushed him down onto the bed.  “In the morning.  Now be quiet and go to sleep!  You do not have to prove your fitness to anyone by being foolhardy!” 

“I was not trying to . . .”  He smiled at her determined glare.  “Perhaps I was.”

“I saved you once tonight do not dare test me again, Fitzwilliam Darcy!”  She rose from the bed and with the no nonsense mien of an experienced governess, she pulled the covers over him.  “Do not cross me, sir.” 

“Yes, madam.”  All at once, the exhaustion seemed to creep into his bones as he sank down into the pillow and watched her moving purposefully around the room, blowing out candles.  She stepped into the hallway and assured the footman on duty that all was well, and by the time she returned, his eyes were closed.  Elizabeth stood at the foot of the bed with tears rolling down her face.  She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to pull herself together, but all of the strength she had found for him over the past hours was rapidly evaporating. 

Darcy whispered without opening his eyes.  “Come to bed, love.  I need you.”     

Sniffing, she nodded and lifting the counterpane, crawled in next to him.  Darcy curled around her.  His arm found its home around her waist, and Elizabeth clutched his hand to her heart.  When she heard the soft reassuring sound of his steady breathing, she gave in and cried.  “I need you, too.”

“WHAT IS ALL THIS?”  Susan asked from the doorway to Georgiana’s bedchamber.  The girl was sitting on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chin, surrounded by old letters.  Susan sat down and picked one up, then another.  “These are all from Fitzwilliam?”

“Yes.”  Georgiana looked at the one her hand.  “That was the first one he sent from Netherfield.”

“It is quite long.”  Smiling, she read a few lines.  “He was not complimentary about Miss Bingley’s attentions.”

“I am glad he did not marry her.”

“Did you like her?”

“She was a little overwhelming.”

“I thought so, too.”  Susan picked up another letter.

Georgiana glanced at it.  “That is the first one where he mentions
her
. 

“Her?  Elizabeth, you mean, do you not?”  Susan looked at her pointedly and returned to the letter. “He was utterly at a loss about her, I think.”

“What do you mean?” 

“He describes this strange girl, complains about her. . .”   Laughing, she pointed to the sentence, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet looks at me curiously, and speaks to me as if I were a child to be scolded!” 

“She is horrible, she does not respect him!”

“Respect Georgiana?”  Susan sighed.  “She is not afraid of him.  How many ladies can you name who do not defer to him at every turn?  Your new sister expected nothing from him.  Although I suspect that she liked him.”

“Why?” 

“Because she made a point of vexing him.”  Susan put the letter down.  “They are leaving London tomorrow morning, and she will be coming home in just a few days.  It is your job to make her feel welcome.  You know that your brother expects it of you.”  Georgiana said nothing, only squeezing her eyes shut and clasping her hands tighter around her knees.  Susan stood and walked to the door.  “I pray that you will give her a chance, you are going to need her.” 

“FROM THE JUDGE?”  Richard’s brow creased when he was handed a note Monday morning as he left breakfast with his men.  Waving them off, he ducked into an empty room.  “Perhaps there is news of Wickham; wouldn’t that be the way of it?  Darcy off to Pemberley just as we catch up with the bastard?”  Breaking the seal he settled into a chair then stood quickly. “Good Lord, Darcy!”  Rubbing his hand over his chin, he went over the menu from the night before and shook his head. “No . . . nothing that I can think of that would make me ill, well obviously, I am fine, as are the judge and Elizabeth.  I can only assume that Samuel is as well.  What on earth struck you?”  He sighed and laughed, reading on.  “Darcy feels as if he were in a prize fight, well I know that feeling well enough . . . but he was determined to make the inn by sundown.”  He glanced at a clock and figured they had been on the road for at least four hours already.  “Elizabeth, if you have not met my cousin’s stubborn side before today, I am sure that you are well acquainted with it by now!” His smile faded as he thought of her, “I bet that she fought like hell to save you, Cousin.  She is not one to shrink away and cry in a corner.  Well, I will send a note off to Father and see if he has been poisoning you.”  He smiled at the ludicrous thought.  “I told you not to drink that port!”

“I THINK that I just might be feeling hungry.”  Darcy rubbed his stomach and laughed at Elizabeth’s speculative look.  “Go on, tell me your thoughts.”

“You swore this morning that a morsel of food would never pass your lips again.”

“I was exaggerating.”

“You seemed fairly positive to me.”  She smiled from her position within his arms and laughed when they heard a very distinct rumble.  She rubbed over his coat.  “Oh my!  What beast has crawled inside of you?”

Utterly embarrassed, Darcy looked away.  “Forgive me.” 

“Oh Will, your poor belly has been empty for almost a day.  It is a good thing you have slept most of the trip.”

“I am afraid that I will be wide awake all night as a result.”  He smiled a little, tucking her hair beneath the brim of the warm hat she wore.  “I will watch you sleep tonight, like you did for me yesterday.”

“How did you know . . .?”  Elizabeth saw his eyes warm and twinkle.  “You did not.”

“I do now.”  Leaning down, he spoke softly. “My guardian angel.” 

The warm brush of his mouth over her temple sent an unexpected rush of shivers from her shoulders to her toes.  She wrapped her arms around his waist.  “Hush.  Keep me warm.” 

Darcy felt the frisson and peeking down; saw the flush of colour spreading over her cheeks.  He exhaled slowly, even as his pulse increased.  His grip over her soft warm body tightened and a small smile played over his lips.  Determinedly, he looked out at the passing scenery.  “We should reach the inn soon.”

“The last stop of the day?”

“mmmhmmm.”  She looked up and was greeted with a tender kiss.  The soft intake of breath confirmed the suspicions he had been mulling over as they travelled.  But this was not the time to explore them.  He cleared his throat a little.  “We are staying in Steppingley, at the French Horn.   I have stopped there countless times as I grew up and travelled between Pemberley and London or Cambridge.”  Darcy bit his lip and watched her.  “It really would not have been so much trouble to leave our route and go to Meryton; we were in Hertfordshire, after all.” 

“Will!  Besides the fact that you were asleep when we stopped to change horses in Barnet, even I know that Meryton is not anywhere near the main road from London north!  Why, look at all of these inns we are passing!  There must be six in every village!  If you became ill again we would not have far to go to find help or somewhere to rest.  No, you were determined to risk your health and leave for Pemberley.  Well, sir, Pemberley is where we shall go.  I will not have you wandering the earth any longer than necessary!”

“So my punishment for insisting that we travel is to have you miss seeing your family and me reach home sooner?”  He smiled when her mouth opened and shut again quickly.  “Hmmm, seems to me I am the winner here.” 

“Smugness does nothing to add to your appeal, sir.”  She sniffed. 

“But your affront adds vastly to yours.”  He whispered and kissed her cheek.  “I mean to take advantage of your appeal this evening, love.”

Elizabeth blushed.  “You are ill.”

“I am very nearly recovered.” 

“But not entirely?”

“Feed me, and we will see.”  He looked out of the window to spot the inn.  “Ah, and here we are.” 

Amidst the flurry of activity surrounding their arrival the door was opened and Darcy stepped out into the shock of the cold air.  He took Elizabeth’s hand and helped her down.  “Ohhh, I am so stiff!”  She whispered and tried to work the kinks out of her neck.

“We will just have to loosen you up a little, will we not?”  He murmured while looking over the crowded yard. 

Judy arrived from the coach carrying their luggage.  “Would you like a bath, madam?”

Elizabeth started from contemplating her husband.  “Oh . . . as wonderful as that sounds, I think that it would be too much trouble for the innkeeper.  Perhaps some warm water to wash with after we eat?”  She looked to Darcy, who was shaking his head.  “You would not think twice about ordering a bath.”

“No.”  Shrugging, he took her arm.  “Let us find our room and then find a table.”

They met the innkeeper, who knew Darcy by sight, and they were led up to their waiting chambers.  Elizabeth ran her palm over the patchwork quilt that lay upon the bed while she looked around at the solid but simple decoration.  Darcy watched her, noting her unconscious gesture of invitation as the servants brought in their trunks, and Judy and Parker set to work arranging their things for the night.  Elizabeth could not seem to settle anywhere, and wandered the room, feeling her husband’s familiar stare following her.  Gratefully she heard Judy call that she was ready, and retired to refresh herself.  

Judy reappeared carrying something in her hand that was quickly tossed into the grate, and just as quickly burned.  Darcy noted the action and nodding, clamped down on the growing excitement that was firing through him.  Elizabeth reappeared just in time to see his hands ball into fists, and closed her eyes when he passed behind her, brushing unnecessarily close as he went to take his turn. 

They made their way down to the noisy tavern.  Elizabeth peeked in the doorway to the crowded room and saw tables occupied mostly by men and groaning with food and tankards.  Card games were being played, and a haze of blue smoke from pipes and cigars floated about the ceiling, almost obscuring the light from the candles and lamps hung from the wooden pillars and beams.  Along the back wall, a great fire was burning, its occasional snaps and crackles punctuated the waves of laughter and conversations as cutlery scraped plates and somewhere, a lone fiddler attempted to let his song be heard. 

Clutching Darcy’s arm, Elizabeth stared around in utter amazement.  He tilted his head and watched her, and seeing a smiling woman in a plain white cap making her way over, he lifted his chin.  “Have you any private rooms available, Mrs. Finch?”

“No, no, I’m very sorry, Mr. Darcy.  We are full up as you see.  The gentry snapped them up as quick as they could I’m afraid.  Unless you care to wait, I can give you the table in the corner there, but it is the best I can do.”  She saw him frown.  “I am sorry, sir.  There’s a rumour of a storm brewing and people are finding beds for the night, just in case.  It is a good thing you wrote ahead so we could put yours aside.”  She looked at Elizabeth and back to Darcy with a smile. 

“I see.”  He was not in the least happy bringing Elizabeth into this rowdy atmosphere, particularly when he noted the attention she was receiving from the dozens of men in the room.  She was, without question, the handsomest woman present, the best dressed, and he realized, displaying without even trying that she was a woman who would delight any one of them.  Her eyes sparkled and a smile played on her lips as she drank it all in.  Her hand clutched his arm, but she was nearly straining forward.  Shaking his head, he squeezed her hand.  “You do not mind dining here?”

“Oh, my goodness no!”  Elizabeth laughed.  “Where else would we go?”