Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (73 page)

“I will.” 

Darcy nodded and bowed to Mrs. Gardiner, then turned to her husband.  “Sir?” 

“The time is nigh.”  He scooped the lures into a case and wagging his eyebrows, kissed his wife as he hurried to catch up with Darcy’s long stride.  “Farewell, my dears!” 

Mrs. Gardiner smiled after him and turned to Elizabeth.  “He is like a boy going on a great adventure.”

“I think that he will find Fitzwilliam quite able to match his boyish spirit.  It is such a joy to see it displayed.  I knew it was in him, I would see glimpses of it as the months went by, but there were too many times when we were living in such despair . . .”  She closed her eyes.  “It is over now.”

“Shall we ask Miss Darcy to join us?”

“To visit the dower house?  No.  Hope is there, and Georgiana needs the distance, I think.”  Elizabeth stood and Mrs. Gardiner followed her.  “She needs to continue with the beginning she has made with Mrs. Annesley.   I want them to be thoroughly comfortable with each other before they leave for London.” 

“When will that be?” 

“I am not certain, Fitzwilliam and I have been debating it.  Mr. Bingley and Jane wish to visit with us, and bring the rest of their family with them in September.  We thought that we should all escort Georgiana to Town, and then turn around and lead the Bingleys here.”  She sighed,   “And stop at Longbourn.”

“Be careful that your mother does not invite herself along with you, or sends your sisters, as well.  Mr. Collins would be all too glad to send them on a holiday, an extended one.” 

“Yes, Fitzwilliam and I discussed that, too, particularly if they get a whiff of us planning a ball.  It is just that he is not comfortable sending Georgiana on that three day journey alone.” 

“He is a worrier.”

“Yes, he is.”  Elizabeth looped her arm with her aunt’s and as they approached the front door, Evans appeared and bowed while they donned their bonnets. 

“Mrs. Darcy, the gig and pony are ordered and will be here any moment now.”

“Ordered?”  She smiled.  “Mr. Darcy said something?”

“Yes, madam.  He said that you were going driving?”

“I suppose that we are.”  She looked at her aunt and laughed.

“He gave very specific instructions.”  Nodding, the butler opened the door for them and bowed them out. 

As the door closed behind them, a smart new trap with a young grey pony pulled up.  Elizabeth’s hand was at her mouth and she gasped then beamed.  “Oh my!”  She ran her hand admiringly over the fine finish while the groom leapt down and held the pony steady for her.

“Here you are, Mrs. Darcy!  She’s a treat to drive!”

“Thank you!”  Elizabeth was entirely overwhelmed.  The pony whinnied and she went up to rub his forelock.  “And who are you?” 

“Mr. Darcy calls her Stargazer.”  The groom explained.  Elizabeth blushed and she turned her head away.  “Go on, try her out!” 

“That is no grizzled veteran pulling this cart.”  Mrs. Gardiner watched Elizabeth climb up and take the reins.  “It is lovely, such a beautiful shade of red.  And look here, roses painted on the side!  This is definitely a gift for you.”  She climbed on and settled into the soft cushion.

“Oh Will . . .” Looking around Elizabeth focussed on the lake where she spotted two figures standing still and watching them.  The shorter of the two was clearly laughing as the fishing poles he held waved above his head.  The taller was standing with his arms crossed protectively over his chest.  She could feel his stare even over the great distance.  Elizabeth bit her lip and urged the pony into motion.  With a lurch, the trap took off.  “Oh my!  What are you doing to me, Fitzwilliam?”  She said in a whisper as they moved faster than she ever had before. 

“Come on now, dear.  Keep your chin up.  He is watching you.”  Mrs. Gardiner said quietly while lifting her hand to wave merrily at the men.  Mr. Gardiner waved but Darcy did not move.  “My, he is a critic!” 

“Not this time.”  She whispered, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Carefully she guided the pony around the curve of the drive and turned them towards the archway and out on the road to the dower house.  “Is he still watching?”

“I doubt that he has breathed.”  Mrs. Gardiner whispered.  “How are you doing?”

“This is not so easy with a younger animal.”  Elizabeth gripped the reins tightly.  “Breathe, Lizzy . . .  Oh dear . . . I was not ready for this!” 

“He trusts you.” 

“He always has . . . heaven alone knows why.”  She managed a glance at her aunt before quickly returning her attention to the road.  “He is teaching me a lesson.”

“How?”  Mrs. Gardiner held onto her hat and gripped the seat.

“I am always saying things to challenge him, and he is calling me on it.  I must learn to stop saying things that I do not mean.” 

“Such as, you are ready to drive his phaeton?” 

“Oh my, I would kill us both!”  Elizabeth laughed and as they climbed the ridge, she chanced a look through a break in the trees, and far below, she saw a solitary figure in blue.  She felt a lump rise in her throat and returned her gaze to the road ahead.  “Dear man.” 

Darcy watched the carriage disappear and at last looked down from the ridge.  “You will be the death of me, woman.” 

“Come along, Darcy.  She seems to have the hang of it.  My wife is with her and you do not see me biting my nails!  My niece may say a few reckless things, but I doubt she would have climbed into that carriage if you had not prepared her thoroughly.  And you would not have given it to her if you were not confident that she could drive.”  Mr. Gardiner handed him a pole.  “Come on.” 

“Yes, sir.”  Darcy glanced back at the ridge and sighing, led his guest along the edge of the lake and down the stream that fed it until they came to a spot where the water was calm and the banks were wide.  “This is a fine spot; I have disturbed many an occupant here.”

“And consumed it, I presume?”

“Yes.”  Darcy set about attaching his lure and watched the elder man at work.  “Has it been long?”

“Fishing?  Oh, ages it seems.  I did a fair bit in my younger days, my unmarried days, when I was fancy free for the most part, but . . . ah well, a wife, a business, a family . . .   This is our first holiday of any significance in a very long time.”

“But you can afford it.”

“Of course, I can, otherwise we would not have come.”

“No, that is not my point.  You can afford it because of all of the work you expended building your business, you have earned the right to be fancy free once again.” 

“I suppose that is true, but it is nothing to this.”  He looked around and back to Darcy, “Although I gather you do not agree this is an easy life?”

“I would be an ungrateful fool to say it is not when all around me I see people taking as a yearly income what I spend on a few gowns for my wife. I answer to no taskmaster other than myself.  I am free to spend what I have and damn the next generation.”  Darcy cast out his line, flicking it back and forth, and cast it again.  “But where you have . . . How many lives depending on your decisions?  Your family, servants, employees, their families . . .”

“Maybe thirty-five in all . . .” Mr. Gardiner said thoughtfully.

“I have hundreds, and it reaches further if you take into account the jobs created by the products Pemberley produces.” 

“But you could leave it to your stewards.”

“I do.  I trust them and depend upon them each to do their part.”  Darcy glanced at him. “But someone has to oversee it all; someone must be ultimately aware of everything and be accountable for it.  That is me.” 

“That is quite an assignment you have given yourself.”  Mr. Gardiner considered the serious young man.  “If I was your father, I would be . . . quite proud.”  Darcy looked away and began reeling in his line.  “I have reflected upon my brother Bennet for years, sitting in his bookroom, blind to his family, let alone his small estate, and wondered what it would be to live such a life, particularly when I was a young man and scrambling to set up my own business.  I would not like it.  I would be frankly bored out of my mind!”

Darcy smiled and nodded.  “Yes.  I would be as well.  I think that Mr. Bennet was an intelligent man, and he required occupation, which he found both in books and in feeling superior to those around him.”

“Something I feared Lizzy was unwittingly in danger of doing.  She has a mind that is thirsting for more, and she was in danger of becoming caught up in her search for . . . not superiority.  What is it?”  Mr. Gardiner watched his line flicking over the surface of the water. 

Darcy watched and finally murmured, “I think that she was terribly insecure about herself and wished to highlight her intelligence as a replacement.” 

Nodding, Mr. Gardiner smiled, “I think that you are correct, and that is why I am grateful that you are the man who loves her.” 

“Grateful?”  Darcy’s head tilted and he directed his unwavering gaze upon the man at his side. “How so?”

“She needed a man who challenged what she thought were her best assets, while praising what she thinks are her worst.”  Nodding, he cast out his line and sighed when he snagged a bush. “I am out of practice.”  He reeled his line in and noticed Darcy looking thoughtfully out into the water as he watched his fly bob with the current.  “I have set your mind to work?  Fine, I shall do it again.  Lizzy, in her turn, is good for you.”

“That, I know full well.” Looking back down at his rod, he said quietly, “Why do you think so?”

“She knocks you down from that pedestal you stand upon.  She makes you able to express your empathy, even if you have always felt it.  When I met you, lo these many months ago, you did not particularly like me . . . No, no, do not say otherwise!  I was, and permanently remain, your inferior, and there is no reason for you to think differently.  You were cautious, and rightly so, considering all of the secrets you had to hide, but in the course of that first visit, my niece taught you to open your eyes, and appreciate who and what is around you.  You were a different man when you left my home from the one who entered, whether you know it or not.”

“I do know it, and I am grateful for it.”  His line flicked out again.  “My father was a good man.”

“No doubt, look at the son he produced.” 

“I do not seek praise, sir.”  Darcy looked down.  “He was good, but he held deeply imbedded prejudices, instilled by
his
father, I believe.  It influenced his behaviour and his decisions towards those he felt were inferior . . . and that in turn affected his brother . . .”   Darcy’s hand waved.  “Forgive me.  I . . . I hardly know what I am thinking myself, and I am trying to explain it to you.” 

“Go on and try, Son.”  Mr. Gardiner said softly.  “I can see that you need to talk.  And I fear that this is something even my dear niece is not permitted to know about you.” 

“No.  I have not shared it with her, because . . . she must live amongst these people.  I . . . I do not want my opinions to colour hers.   She protects me so fiercely . . .”

“She loves you so dearly.”

“As I do her.”  Darcy said clearly and his deep voice carried. 

“Well then?  I fear that if you do not speak, you will burst.  I will be gone in a few days.  I will not have contact with any of these people unless it is through your invitation.  Use me, if you need me.” 

“Fitzwilliam!”  From down the stream they saw Harding approaching on horseback. 

Darcy frowned and his face reddened.  Beside him, Mr. Gardiner murmured, “We may continue this later, if you like?”

“No sir, I take this for the sign that it is.  I admonished my cousin to leave it be, and I will tempt fate no further.  Thank you for your offer of confidence, sir.  I will not forget it.  Ever.” 

“Whatever it is, do not let it burn a hole in your heart.  You are a good man, Fitzwilliam Darcy.  I hope that I am not the only man who has told you that.”  Mr. Gardiner smiled and straightened as the judge arrived and dismounted. 

“Uncle.”  Darcy indicated Mr. Gardiner.  “May I introduce my uncle, Mr. Edward Gardiner?  Uncle Gardiner, this is Judge Harding Darcy.”

Surprised by Darcy’s unprecedented endorsement, Mr. Gardiner smiled and bowed his head to the judge, “It is an honour, sir.” 

Judge Darcy hesitated, and noted the evidence of challenge in Darcy’s gaze, “I am equally pleased to meet you.  I was just introduced to your wife, Mr. Gardiner.  She was hanging on tightly to the edge of that spectacular new trap Darcy had built for Elizabeth.  They told me you would be fishing, and knowing you, this had to be where you would come.”

“How was Elizabeth?  How did she look?  Was she driving well?  Was there any sign of trouble?”

Mr. Gardiner laughed and Harding looked at him and then smiled at his anxious nephew.  “Fitzwilliam, if she had been in trouble, would I have left her?” 

“I hope not, sir.”  Darcy found that he was gripping his hands and let go before he broke his rod. “She is well, then.  Had she reached your home?” 

“Nearly.  I saw them approaching and watched.  She was doing fine.” 

“Did she seem frightened?  Should I go . . .?” 

“She looked quite courageous, every bit the Mistress of Pemberley.”  Harding watched Darcy’s shoulders straighten and his chin lift.  “She expressed great delight with her gift.  There was a great deal of effusing over the roses.  And the name of the pony for some odd reason.”  Darcy’s eyes warmed even as a blush coloured his cheeks.  “She loves it, Darcy.”

“Good.”  He nodded.  “Good . . .”  He looked at the ground and seeking a distraction, waved his hand.  “We have an extra rod, if you care to join us?” 

“I do not wish to interrupt.”

“Not at all, sir.  We were having an excellent conversation, we would be glad for your contribution.”  Mr. Gardiner smiled. 

Darcy detected a deferential note in Mr. Gardiner’s voice.  “Uncle Harding?”

“Well, certainly, let me tie him off . . .”  Looking around, he led his horse to a tree and then joined the two men.  He rooted around in the box of flies and picked one up, colourful with a bit of red feather.  “This is unique.”

“Lizzy created that one.”  Darcy smiled.  “She offered me some bits from her workbox.  I have one in yellow.”  He pointed to the stream.