Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (41 page)

“Why would she keep quiet?”

“Well, if for no other reason than she wishes to stay employed.”   Elizabeth patted her arm and let go.  “Will you be fine on your own for a little while?”

“I promise I will not be running anywhere.”  She smiled tiredly.  “I could come in with you . . .”

“Oh no, you need to walk.  I will be only a moment.”  Elizabeth smiled as Georgiana made a face.  “Well, I will try.”

“I think that if Fitzwilliam were here  you would be hours.” 

“Then it is a good thing he is out with Mr. Ferguson, is it not?”  She laughed and looked towards the hills.  “There . . . what are they doing?”  Georgiana followed her gaze and laughed.  “Are they racing?  If that man breaks his neck doing something reckless . . .” 

“You know that he would never risk that.”  Georgiana assured her.  They watched the two men and looked at each other. 

“Dear man.”  Elizabeth said softly, and patting Georgiana’s shoulder she turned to the house.

Georgiana watched her go, and looked wistfully at a bench.  “If I sit, I will never rise again.”  Instead, she walked along, admiring the flowers and statues seemingly scattered randomly around the garden.  She remembered her brother remarking that this was the sort of garden he wished to create at Pemberley, and Elizabeth eagerly agreeing.  She marvelled how they managed to spend evening after evening paging through books, looking for unusual trees to plant and flowers to try.  She could not imagine holding such wonderful debates with Wickham.  With him in mind, she strolled slowly towards the statue of Adonis.

“Do you resemble George?” 

“I am glad that you still think of me.”  Georgiana gasped and turned, searching everywhere until she saw him standing behind a vine-covered arbour.  He stepped out so that she could see him, but he remained hidden from the house.  “Hullo, Georgie.”

“George.”  Her hands went first to her mouth and then dropped to her belly.  Her cheeks coloured and she turned away, as if trying to hide herself.  “You are just as pretty as I remember.  How do you feel?”

“I . . . I . . .”

“Why do you not take a seat?  You are clearly tired.”  He glanced at the house and across the fields.  “Even with Darcy and Fitzwilliam away, I dare not help you.  I believe that your sister would gladly come after me.”  His smile fell away as he read her distress.  “Rest yourself.”

“The midwife said that walking will help ease the labour.”

“You are labouring?”  He demanded.

“Not quite yet.”  She felt her body trembling and clasped her hands tightly.  “Why . . . why are you here?”

Wickham nodded to her hand resting on her belly.  “I learned that I am . . . to be a father.”

“No . . . no . . .”

“Georgie.”  He smiled sadly.  “No other man could be.”

“That, that is not what I meant . . . Uncle Harding and Aunt Susan will take the baby.”

“Yes, I know.” 

“You do?” 

“And I am . . . Will you do me a favour, not that you owe me a thing.”

“What do you want?”  She asked cautiously. 

“I know that Darcy is doing this to protect you, and the baby.”  Wickham bit his lip and thought carefully.  “I liked your Aunt Susan, she was very kind and I . . . I have no objection to her mothering our child, but . . . your uncle.”

“He dislikes you deeply.”

“Of that I have no doubt, as does every other man in your family.  Your uncle, he is . . . I do not want his hate for me to harm the child.”

“You care.”   She marvelled.

“I realize that I behaved . . . I will not beg for your forgiveness, Georgiana.  You know what happened between us.”

“It was both of our faults.”

Wickham laughed.  “I think not.  I took advantage.”

“I let you.  I could have told Fitzwilliam at any time.  But I stayed.”  She held his eyes.  “You did use me.  I understand now how you sought revenge for things Fitzwilliam never did wrong.”

“And that is the subject of another favour I ask of you.  Please, however you can, see that our child is not raised with expectations that are beyond the place that your aunt and uncle create for him.  Do not let him become like me.” 

“What does that mean?” 

It was Wickham’s turn to stare.  “Georgie, you are changed; you are no longer an angry naive little girl who I seduced.” 

She looked down.  “Why did you ask Fitzwilliam for money?” 

“Which time?  I have done so for years.” 

“In the letter you sent through me.”  She looked up at him and her eyes were brimming.  “Why?”

“So that I could start over.  You know that he refused to pay me.”

“Is that why you are here now?  To demand money to keep silent about me?”  Protectively, her arms hugged her body.  “Fitzwilliam has worked so hard to protect me.  You said that you would expose me . . .”

“I lied.  I am who I am, Georgie.  No . . . I am here because I thought that . . . I thought that because of me, you are away from your home, hiding under an assumed name, not letting anyone know that you exist . . . and I wanted you to know that I . . .
do
care.  I want you to know that I am . . . I am near.  When I saw that you were alone, I had to speak to you.  I want to be sure that you are well.”

“Fitzwilliam will see to that.”  Georgiana wiped the tears flowing down her cheeks.

“I know.  He always does.”  Wickham bowed his head.  “I apologize.”

“Elizabeth would say that is meaningless without some action behind the words.  What will become of you?”

“You care enough to ask?”  Georgiana said nothing and he smiled.  “You are really doing so very well, my dear little girl.  I am proud of how you have grown.  I doubt that I could have coaxed this Georgiana away.”

She hugged herself.  “Will you answer?”

“I will remain near until I learn that you and our baby are well, and then . . . I will disappear.” 

“Where will you go?”

“Somewhere your family cannot find me.” 

“You will stay safe?”

“I will.”  He smiled.  “For your sake.  For mine, I ask one last thing.”

“What is it?”  She twisted a handkerchief she had found and stared down at the ground. 

“Let your brother find you a good man, marry him, and have a wonderful life.”  Georgiana looked up and he held her gaze.  “I want you happy.  Can you bear that?  Surely you do not want me?”

“Oh, no!”

“Well that was clear.”  He looked at the house and stepped back behind the arbour.  “I will check on you and our baby from time to time, but you will not know I was there.”  Lifting his hand, he stepped further away.  “I will never forget you.  Goodbye, dear Georgie.” 

“George!”  He came back around the arbour and she could see that he was feeling the emotion of the moment.  “Will you do me a favour?” 

“Of course.” 

“Find an honest path, and find a good woman to care for you.”  He smiled and shook his head.  “Have something good come of our months together.”  Her hand touched her belly when she noticed his eyes upon the baby.

“They were not all so bad, were they?” 

“Not all.”  She took a shaking breath.  “But if I had it to live over, I never would have gone.” 

“If I had it to live over again, I still would have tried.  That disappoints you does it not?”  He saw a carriage pulling into the gate and looked to her.  “I must go.  Goodbye Georgie.” 

“Goodbye, George.  God bless you.”  She saw him stop and hang his head for a moment, then raising his hand, he was gone.

Georgiana felt a world of emotions flowing over her.  Tension that she had no idea she was holding was released, and relief that she had faced him and held her own flooded over her.  She held onto Adonis and sobbed as she pressed her handkerchief to her mouth.  Suddenly she felt her body being drawn into a strong encompassing embrace, and heard soft words of reassurance spoken over and over against her bonnet.  She held onto the man and eventually she swallowed and shakily looked up into the kind, worried eyes that searched her face. 

“Samuel.” 

“Breathe.”  He ordered.

“I do not love him.”  She explained seriously.

“Adonis?”  He smiled and loosened his hold.  “I am glad.  I was worried to see you grasping his ankle and sobbing like that.”

“You can care without loving, can you not?  Feelings change as you grow, do they not?  As you learn?” 

“Yes, of course.  I am still changing and I learn new things daily.”  Samuel laughed.  “Are we still talking about your feelings for Adonis?”

“Adonis?”  Georgiana looked up at the ideal man and back to her cousin.  “No.  I . . . I do not love Adonis.” 

“Good.”  Shaking his head, he took her arm.  “I have no idea what moved you to tears, but I can certainly see that you need to come inside.  What were you doing out here all alone?” 

She looked to the arbour.  “Elizabeth and I were walking.”

“And where is she?”

“She went indoors for a moment.”

“Oh no, Elizabeth and her moments.”  He chuckled and pulled a fresh handkerchief from his pocket.  “Is Fitzwilliam involved?  You know that you will not see either of them for days if he is.”

“You are being silly, they are not so bad.  I think that they are quite wonderful.”  She wiped her eyes, “They have taught me so much, Samuel . . .” She started to cry again. 

“I leave you for fifteen minutes and look at you.”  Elizabeth appeared.  “How can you possibly have any tears left to shed?”  She steadied herself when Georgiana fell into her arms.  “Shhhh, shh.”  Elizabeth stroked her back .  “You are trembling like a leaf.” 

“Lizzy, what is wrong?”  Darcy rode up with Ferguson.

“Miss Cargill?  Are you well?”  Ferguson asked.  Samuel turned to the unfamiliar voice as Darcy dismounted and threw him his reins.

Darcy took charge of his sister and held her.  “Is it the baby?” 

“Why are we all gathered out here?”  Susan appeared with Harding.  “Georgiana, oh dear, what is it . . .?” She rubbed her shoulder. 

Georgiana opened her eyes to see the concerned faces of the family that loved her and then to the empty arbour.  Harding looked with her, his brow creasing as he saw a shadow that was there and gone. 

“I am fine.”  She sniffed.  “You know how I cry all of the time.” 

“Enough exercise for one day.”  Darcy commanded. 

“I have to agree.”  Elizabeth held out her hand.  “Come on, dear.  We will get you your tea and put your feet up.”

Susan took her other hand.  “Yes, we will take you inside.”  She looked at Darcy.  “Let go, Fitzwilliam.” 

Reluctantly, he gave up his sister and watched the women enter the house.  Harding smiled and held out his hand.  “We only
think
that we are the masters of the house, you know.” 

Darcy sighed and took his hand.  “Welcome to Sommerwald, Uncle.” 

“I am glad to be here.  It seems to be just in time?” 

“Yes.”  He noticed Ferguson remained and smiled.  “This is my steward.  Ferguson, Judge Darcy, his son Samuel Darcy.”

Both men nodded and Ferguson realized he had been dismissed.  “I will take care of Bruin, sir.  Shall I fetch Mrs. Dickson for you?”

“Midwife?”  Judge Darcy asked when Darcy hesitated.  “No, not yet.  Trust me, Susan knows when it is time.” 

The door of the house opened and Elizabeth ran out.  “Will!”

“Lord, help me.”  He whispered and looked to Ferguson.  He nodded, swiftly turning the horses and hurrying to the barn to call for the curricle. 

“She is having the baby?”  Samuel cried.  “But she is not due for months!”

“We were wrong.”  Darcy murmured and saw that Elizabeth had already disappeared inside.  Tearing off his gloves, he began twisting his ring. 

“Wrong?”  Samuel looked from his cousin to his father.  “How can you be wrong by months?  Is there not a . . . process to this?  Nine months!  That is what it takes!  Nine . . .”  Both men looked at him.  “I am going to be ill.”  

“Do not dare.”  Darcy hissed.  “If I have to bear it then you do, too.” 

“What is happening?  Ferguson nearly ran me down in the drive!”  Richard called as he strode up from the stables.  “Judge, Samuel . . .” He stared at Darcy flexing his hand.  “Oh, no . . .”

“Come on, boys.”  Harding looked between the three pale men.  “Inside.”

Chapter 16

“M
y dear.”  Collins bounced a little on his toes and leaned down to speak in Mary’s ear.  “Would you accompany me to my bedchambers?”

“Mr. Collins!”  Mary gasped.

“No, no, oh no, my dear, I . . .”  He looked around the room and bent back down.  “It is a matter of great importance.”

“In your bedchamber?”

“Yes.”  He hissed.  Holding out his hand he helped her up and they discretely left the parlour for the stairs.  “I have managed to ignore it thus far, however, I find that while preparing for the day, the sight of it is quite disconcerting.  But I fear that to move it would be . . . inviting ill will and of course we have enough of that living here already . . .”

“Mr. Collins, whatever are you speaking about?”  Mary demanded and upon opening the door to his chamber he took her to the dressing room.  “oh.”

“You see?”  He pointed.  There on the wall hung a portrait of Mr. Bennet.

“I have never seen this before.”  Mary stepped up to it and examined the work.  “He must have been quite young.”

“I daresay that it was done when he graduated.”  Mr. Collins looked into the eyes that seemed to be watching him and shuddering, looked away.  “He examines me.  Do you know how disconcerting it is to sit there . . .”  He waved towards the commode, “And have
that
watching?”  Mary stared at him.  “Forgive me, my dear, I have offended your delicacy.” 

“Why would he hang it here?” Mary wondered.  “To stare at himself?”

“Do you think that your mother might want it in her rooms?”  He asked hopefully.

“She would not want him staring at her, either.”  Mary mused.

“Oh, but the way that she carries on, surely she misses him terribly!  There must be something we can do to ease her pain.  She asks that I supplement the income she will receive now, so that she may bring your sisters out in style.”

“Mr. Collins, I know that it is not my place to question your decisions, however, you cannot give away what you do not have.  My sisters should be educated, not dressed as dolls.  Through wisdom is an house builded, and by understanding it is established; and by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches.”