Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (76 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
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“I like the thought of Richard’s urges not being met.” 

“What of Miss Kelly’s?  Do you think that she is complacent?” 

“No, if she is anything like me, she . . .” Elizabeth blushed and rested her head back on his chest.

“No, no.  Not so easy, love.  Did you have feelings of desire for me that were unfulfilled?  You said that you did not understand them when we first met.”

“But that was when we first met.”

“I did my best after we married until we finally gave in.”  He tried to see her face.  “You saw me once, relieving my ache.  Tell me . . . have you ever?”  She nodded.  “How?” 

“Shhh.  Just speaking of it makes me blush.” 

Darcy’s hands drifted down to trace over her hips.  Elizabeth looked up and he murmured against her lips.  “Shall I lock the door, my contrary wife?”  

Elizabeth’s hands pressed against his chest as he drew her close and they kissed.  His mouth felt so wonderfully soft and warm. Gradually the gentle caresses gave way to deeper explorations as their bodies moulded to each other.  The rhythmic movement of their kisses, the warmth, the delicious scent and taste of their lover and the feel of their bodies beneath their sliding palms removed any sense of time and place. 

Darcy drew back, only to have Elizabeth follow him, not allowing his mouth to escape her touch even for a moment.  “Oh Lord . . .”  He groaned and forgetting the open door, clutched her gown in his fists and began raising the skirt.  His hands slid over her bare bottom, caressing down the back of her thighs, and then slipping one hand between, his fingers unerringly sought the ache he knew she felt.  Elizabeth moaned.  “Like this, dearest?”  He whispered, briefly nipping her ear before she turned his face and reclaimed his mouth.  Darcy smiled against the increasing hunger of her kiss and moaned when she stroked her palms down his chest to his breeches.  The look of raw desire in her eyes nearly sent him to his knees.  “Lizzy . . .”

“I want you.” 

Elizabeth demanding of him was both exciting and overwhelming.  Darcy dropped her skirt.  “Where?” 

“Lie back and I will take care of the rest.”  She laughed at the incredulous joy that crossed his face. “Oh my, to see you . . .”

“Stop looking at me and . . . well you cannot plunder my depths . . .”

“No, but I can ride you to oblivion . . .” 

Darcy groaned and responding to her push, lay back.  The inkwell caught his shoulder and sitting up, he looked at her apologetically, “Perhaps the floor would be best, or the sofa?”   

“As you wish.”  She said into his eyes.

“I wish so many things . . .”  Darcy stood and crushed her back into his arms to kiss again.

“Oh!”

Their kiss stopped.  Darcy looked at Elizabeth and both of them closed their eyes.

“I am so sorry . . . the door was open, and . . . I will go . . .”  Georgiana whispered.

“No, no, it is fine.”  Darcy said roughly.

“No.  It is not.” Elizabeth said under her breath.

“shh.”  Turning Elizabeth so that she stood before him, he tightly gripped her shoulders.  “Is there . . .” He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, “Is there anything we can do for you, Georgiana?”

She looked between them, and knew full well what she had interrupted.  Carefully keeping her gaze on Elizabeth’s left shoulder where her hand clasped Darcy’s, she stuttered, “I . . . There is a very large wagon coming down the drive.  Did you order some furniture, Fitzwilliam?” 

“No.”  He looked down to Elizabeth and his brow creased.  “I . . . Oh, the pianoforte!”

“You ordered a new one?”  She asked curiously.

“No, you thought it would be a waste of a beautiful instrument, I ordered a new interior to be built . . .”  He smiled to see her surprise.  “You should not have to go to the ballroom to play, what is a music room without a functional instrument?” 

“You clever man.”  She caressed his cheek.

“It was your idea.”  He kissed her hand and held it to his face.

“Well, I . . . I will go, then.”  Georgiana said quietly and edged for the door.  “I look forward to trying your new instrument.”

Elizabeth returned her attention to her sister, “It is for all of us, Georgiana.  You may stay.  We were just reading letters.” 

“No, I . . . I think that you . . . I will just go and see that the furniture in the music room is moved aside so that the workers can perform the repairs.” 

“Thank you, dear.”  Darcy smiled.  “Oh, and you may wish to tell Mrs. Annesley that we will be leaving for Matlock in three days.  Uncle’s party arrived two days ago, and Richard should be arriving with the Kellys on Saturday.”

She nodded and bit her lip, “This will be my greatest test, to see if Aunt Catherine or Aunt Grace see anything amiss with me.”

“Yes.”  Elizabeth let go of Darcy’s hand and nodded confidently, “I am certain that you have nothing to fear, Georgiana.  It has been over two months, your figure is lovely.  If anything, I believe that they will remark on how much you have grown into a lady since they last saw you.  Aunt Catherine has not seen you for over a year?”

“Closer to two.”  Darcy nodded.  “Elizabeth is quite correct, you have nothing to fear, just be yourself.” 

“I imagine you may be called upon to play.”  Elizabeth warned.

“Oh no . . .”

“I will sing if that happens, you do not need to face them alone.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth.”  She looked between them and smiled teasingly, “I will just leave you to . . . carry on.”  Quickly she turned and shut the door firmly behind her. 

Elizabeth turned to Darcy.  They were both blushing but he wasted no time drawing her back into his embrace.  “Wait!”  Elizabeth wriggled free and ran to lock the door and returned to her laughing husband’s open arms.  Her eyes danced and she stood on her toes to kiss his chin.  “Now . . . where were we?” 

 

“I HAVE NO OBJECTION at all to protecting her, believe me.  The protection of a sister’s honour is one of the greatest duties of a brother, no matter how foolish the girl is, but . . . I am
marrying
the woman!  Must you protect her from
me
?”  Richard looked around at the table of Kelly men gathered in the inn’s tavern.  “I had better opportunities to take advantage of her before we were engaged!”

“But you did not.”  Robert pointed out.

“Well, of course not, she was . . . we were not engaged then.”  He looked between their grinning faces and nodding his head, sat back in his chair.  “So this is the way of it then, all together you conspired to drive me insane.  What a welcome to the family.” 

“You must realize, Colonel, in a few days, Sophie will be lost to us.  You are gaining a wife, but we are returning to a far different home.  It will not be nearly the same without her there, in fact,” Robert looked at his father, “I fear that it will be a very difficult time for us as we adjust.” 

“Very difficult.”  Mr. Kelly murmured and then lifted his tankard, “To Sophie, long may she remain in our hearts.” 

“To Sophie!”  They cried and drank, all slamming down their tankards.

Richard looked between them and laughed. “If I did not know better, I would say I was attending a wake, not a wedding.  The woman is not dead to you; she is merely changing her address.  You are all welcome in our home . . . well, after we honeymoon a bit,” The men all fixed him with glares that he ignored. “She is going to be well-housed, fed, and fussed over.  Why you are not celebrating that fact boggles my mind.  Would you prefer her to remain unmarried?  You do realize that your teasing on the subject was a very sore point for her?”  Stephen and Robert exchanged glances as he continued, “And I say that not as some avenging angel, I am guilty of the same thing with my sadly unmarried sister.”

“Why does she remain unmarried?”  Stephen asked.

“Why did Sophie?”  Richard responded with a raised brow.  “Was it her fault?  A lack of suitable men?  Maybe she simply did not like the men who were presented to her?  I know that you wish with all of your hearts that she was marrying a Scotsman who lived in the next village.”

Stephen looked down at his drink.  “Why do you not take up residence at Sommerwald?  Your cousin has booted out the Walkers, rightly so, but nonetheless, it does him no good to have it unoccupied.” 

“That is true enough, Colonel.  Why take on this estate that needs so much improvement?  Mr. Ferguson at Sommerwald is an outstanding steward, you would not need to learn a thing, just let him at it.”  Mr. Kelly agreed.

Richard nodded, “He is a fine man, and I know that my cousin trusts him implicitly, but you forget one small point.”

“Well?”  Stephen demanded.

“My name is Fitzwilliam, and my family owns Gladney.  And that is where I will live with my wife, Sophia Fitzwilliam.  And you three . . .”  He pointed a thick finger between them, “Are going to have to accept that.” 

“He leaves no room for sentiment, does he?”  Mr. Kelly said quietly. 

“Certainly I do, I feel sentiment for the home I will occupy, and the family where my origins lie.  It is up to the Kelly men, particularly you, Robert, to carry that on.  Establish your own families!  That will occupy you, unless you prefer drowning your sorrows in ale.”  Downing his drink, he looked around for the maid.  She saw him and coming over to the table, she swished her hips and leaned down, exposing her ample bosom.  “This gentleman needs a drink, I see.  Can I offer anything else to you gentlemen?”  She turned from one to another and then took a closer look at Richard.  “I know you!”

“And how is it that you remember him?”  Mr. Kelly asked shortly.

“I stay here fairly often.”  He said to Mr. Kelly when the brothers stared, and sighed.  “I do.  Besides, anything that I have done prior to my wedding date is really none of your business.  Or shall we delve into your habits, too?” 

“Here you are.”  Sophie wound her way through the crowded room and came to the table where she stood behind Richard’s chair.  “There are no seats in the dining room, so I convinced Mama we could eat here.”  She looked to her mother who immediately went to sit beside her husband, and taking the chair next to Richard, she examined the maid.  “Would you bring two ciders along with the gentleman’s orders, and then we would like to order our meal.” 

“Yes, miss.”  The girl glanced at Richard and disappeared.

“A friend?”  She asked casually.

“No, I was telling your father that I stay here often and the maid recognized me.”

“I see.”  Sophie pulled off her gloves and spotted the girl at another part of the room, obviously selling her wares.  Richard’s eyes were down and his usual smile was gone.  As her brothers began to fill the void with conversation, Sophie took Richard’s hand beneath the table.   “
Was
she a friend?

“No.” 

“But I . . . I suppose that cannot be said of every maid we might ever meet?”   She said softly and looked at him for a nod.  “Richard, I accept that you had a life before me, one that was dangerous and lonely.” She spoke so nobody could hear.  “As long as it does not continue after we are wed, I do not see any need to hold your feet to the fire to confess anything more than you wish to tell me.” 

“I thank you for that.  I never wish to hurt you.” 

“I know that.  But please remember that I am capable of being hurt and I will never like knowing there was any before me, as unreasonable as that is.”  She smiled and he sighed.  “So tomorrow I meet the family.” 

“Lucky you.”  He finally was able to look at her in the eye.  “You can depend on me for anything.”

“That I know already, or I would never have willed you to propose.” 

“You willed me to do it, eh?”  He chuckled and felt the tension relax.  Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers.  “I cannot wait to be married to you, Sophie Kelly.” 

“I will remember you said that, sir.” 

He cocked his head, “When we are in the middle of an argument?”

“No . . . when I think of all of the ways that you say how much you love me.”  Sophie smiled shyly and blushed when his cheeks pinked.  She started to withdraw her hand from his and he held on tighter.  “There, you did it again.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 29

 

23 July 1812

Pemberley

 

Mr. Collins,

Barring unexpected weather, your harvest will be completed by the twenty eighth day of August.  How do I know this? Why it is because I have received a letter from your steward communicating the news that he has everything well in hand.  He expressed appreciation for having a master who not only gives excellent direction, but who shows great interest.  Please note, Mr. Collins, your steward looks to me as his master.  Why is that?  Have I been speaking with him for months about Longbourn’s management?  I believe that my letters have been addressed to you since Mr. Bennet’s death, have they not? 

The only conclusion I can draw from this oddity is that you have taken care to brag of my continuing involvement to him and the neighbourhood.  From experience, I remember that you performed in a like manner with my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, puffing yourself up by association with your superior.  Perhaps that is an understandable course when one owes a living to that person’s beneficence; however it is entirely inappropriate as a landowner and master of an estate.  Who are you, Mr. Collins?  Are you the master of Longbourn or not?  Or do you merely hand off my advice to your steward to decipher, and mirror your predecessor by ruling over your bookroom and firing off exceptionally distasteful letters?  Is this how you show gratitude to one who spares you the pain of learning on your own?

While I can appreciate the giddy joy you feel with the pending birth of your first child, I do not in any way appreciate the method you chose to deliver the news.  You sir, insulted both my wife and myself with your arrogant, intrusive, and disgusting display of purported knowledge.   You insult your own wife by continuing to hold a grudge over her sister’s rejection of your suit.  You proved, in the space of a single paragraph, why you will never be a gentleman. 

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