Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (77 page)

Never presume to preach to me about my wife, my family, nor my home again.  This insult will be remembered.  Your wife is innocent and may come to visit her sister at any time; however another display of this sort, Mr. Collins, and you will never be welcome in my homes.  Blame it upon my contrary nature.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

“What news is there from Pemberley, Mr. Collins?”  Mary asked and looking up from her sewing, stared at her pale husband.  “Mr. Collins?  Is something wrong?  Is someone ill?” 

Collins closed his mouth and looked at the four women watching him.  “No . . . no, no . . . No, Mrs. Collins.”  Hurriedly folding the letter, he stuffed it inside of his coat.  “No, everyone is well, quite well, Mrs. Darcy is quite well indeed, such a lovely lady.  Mr. Darcy . . . sends his congratulations.” 

“Well, let us hear them!”  Mrs. Bennet cried.

“Yes, I would like to know what he says.”  Mary smiled.  “Lizzy’s letter was so nice, I am sure that Mr. Darcy’s is just as kind.” 

“Mr. Darcy must be disappointed that it is not Lizzy who is with child.”  Lydia looked at her mother.  “After all of the kissing they were doing when they were engaged, I thought that she would have been pregnant by now.”

Mary glanced at her wide-eyed husband and whispered fiercely.  “Lydia!  How can you speak of such things before Mr. Collins!” 

“Mama said that is why Lizzy did not come when Papa was ill, she thought that Lizzy was with child and could not travel!  Did you not, Mama?”

Mrs. Bennet nodded.  “I did.   I did say that, but since we have had no announcement there must have been some other reason for why she avoided us . . .”

“Do you think that Lizzy might have lost a baby?”  Kitty asked and looked around the room.  “Maybe that is why she did not come before, and why Mr. Darcy took her away to Scotland, to cheer her?  She must have been terribly disappointed to lose his baby.  I wonder if it was a boy.”  Feeling all eyes upon her, she looked back down at the hat she was remaking.  “I just thought it might be possible.” 

“My sister Gardiner said nothing of it to me, and she was just with them.”  Mrs. Bennet sniffed, but her eyes were thoughtful.  “I suppose it is possible, they would not speak of such a failure publicly.  Poor Mr. Darcy.  He has been so good to us, helping Mr. Collins with his advice.  And Lizzy had to disappoint him.  Well, that is the only explanation I can accept, she must have lost a baby and since Mr. Darcy is so rich, he could take her somewhere to revive her spirits and start again.  I may have had only girls, but each of my pregnancies came to term, I cannot imagine what went wrong with hers.  After all, I gave her excellent direction on how to be a proper wife, but she is obstinent, and she must have her way.  If only she had listened to me.”  She sighed and patted Mary’s knee.  “You are past the time of danger Mary, and you will give Mr. Collins his heir.” 

“I hope so, Mama.”  Mary’s face coloured and she looked at her husband.  He had removed the letter from his coat and was reading it again.  “Mr. Collins?  What does Mr. Darcy say?” 

“I . . . just congratulations.”  He jumped up and bowed, “I should write to him and express my most sincere apol . . . thanks . . .” He looked at the letter and cleared his throat.  “Perhaps I should speak to the steward first . . . yes, yes, that is what I will do.”  Nodding, he fled the room.

“That was odd.”  Mrs. Bennet looked after him.  “I wonder what Mr. Darcy said?”

“I AM SURPRISED you give him leave to insult you again.”  Harding observed seriously when Darcy finished describing his letter to Collins.  The three men from Pemberley were dismounted and walking, leading the horses uphill as the carriage containing the women followed not far behind.

“I debated that . . . But I thought a warning shot would be more appropriate than an outright end to our relationship.  I do not wish to be the cause of Elizabeth being banned from her ancestral home, and although I have certainly addressed him heatedly in the past, some part of me realizes that the fool has never been called out on his method of address before and may . . .
may
not realize he offended.”  Samuel laughed shortly and Darcy smiled.  “I did qualify that.”

“You are too kind.” 

The familiar crease appeared in his brow, “I made it very clear that my tolerance for any insult to my wife is nonexistent.” 

“I am without doubt that you did.”  Samuel added with a growl, “
Nobody
insults
any
woman of our family.”

“My thoughts exactly.  I am glad that you approve.”  Darcy’s head tilted as he watched his cousin.

“I am surprised you did not ride to Hertfordshire to explain your position personally.” 

“It crossed my mind more than once, however to make a three-day journey to address him in the flesh would likely be met as a compliment on his part.  If he is so blind to every person around him rolling their eyes, he would undoubtedly twist my response to his benefit.  A letter captured my anger and the written word cannot be construed any other way by trick of memory or desire.” 

“Solid evidence.”  Harding nodded.

“I had not considered that.”  Samuel’s anger subsided somewhat.  “I would have acted rashly.” 

“Not rashly, you have to learn to consider all sides of the problem and the effect that your words and actions might have.  It is a lesson I learned only through heartache.”  Darcy noticed his uncle nodding. 

“You have to consider the subject of your ire and if he can appreciate what you are saying to him, Son.”  Harding spoke quietly.  “You were better to be blunt with this fool, Fitzwilliam, and get this off your chest immediately.  The full force of your anger was not diluted by days of travel.” 

“I am afraid that it will still sail over his head.”  Darcy shrugged and reaching the top of the rise, the men mounted their horses.

“You would have made an excellent judge.  Quite fair and reasonable.” 

Darcy looked down at his hands resting over his saddle.  “And Richard thinks I would have made an excellent officer.  And yet here I am cast in the position I was born to assume.”  He turned his mount and watched the carriage trundle up the steep hill.  “Just like you, Uncle.  It is the wise man who makes the best of what he is given and succeeds beyond expectations.”  Their identical steely blue eyes met.

“Like Mr. Gardiner?” 

Pleasantly surprised, Darcy’s smile blossomed.  “An excellent example.  I am ashamed of how I once thought of him, and am grateful that Elizabeth opened my eyes.” 

Susan smiled and nudged Elizabeth.  “Look at the three of them, from behind you cannot tell them apart, can you?”

“No, I have made that mistake.  It seems so long ago, now.”  Elizabeth felt tears pricking at her eyes and searched for her handkerchief.  “That night at the Netherfield Ball and meeting Richard, he was so protective of Fitzwilliam . . .  And Fitzwilliam was so . . . very dear.”  Elizabeth waved off the curious stares of the ladies as she dabbed at her face.  “Poor Miss Kelly, stepping into that lion’s den!” 

“You have done it.  And after meeting Miss Kelly, I would say she is just as strong as you, with a protector who is just as fierce.”  Susan smiled. 

“She at least is welcome. I was regarded with suspicion.”  Seeing Georgiana’s eyes cast down Elizabeth smiled.  “Hopefully that has been thoroughly dispelled.” 

Seeing Elizabeth, Darcy came up alongside the carriage as it reached the summit and looked in the open window.  “How are you?”  He asked softly when he saw Elizabeth’s damp face. 

“I am fine, dear.  How much longer?” 

Darcy took out his pocket watch and then looked over the horizon.  “An hour, I think.  I can just pick out Matlock from here.  Do you need to stop?  A little rest now so that you arrive refreshed?  You know that the ladies will be anxious to talk to you, especially if we arrive before Richard.”

“I thought that you worked it out that we would all arrive at once?  I have no desire to ruin your careful schedule.”  She smiled as his watch snapped shut and was returned to his pocket.  Wordlessly, he reached over to touch her hand resting on the window frame. She blushed under his unrelenting scrutiny.  “I am well, and Richard needs us.” 

“Richard will do fine without us, I think.” 

“Will Miss Kelly?  Richard is well meaning but sometimes he does put his foot in things.”

“Oh, yes and I am so glib . . .” 

“Your tongue is much improved.”  Elizabeth squeezed his hand.  “Is there any sign of them?  From this point you can see quite a long way.”  Nodding, he let go and moved his mount away from the carriage so he could scan the road ahead.  “Anything?”

“No, not a hint of them.”  He moved back to the window.  “Shall we press on?”

“Absolutely, between Georgiana’s nerves and Miss Kelly’s, I can imagine the sooner we make these introductions the better.”  Elizabeth and Darcy both looked to see Georgiana gripping a handkerchief tightly and listening to Susan. 

They looked at each other and Darcy nodded.  “My sister is not the only one who is nervous, and it is not for Miss Kelly.”

“Well, you have me.”  Elizabeth smiled and his eyes warmed. 

“Thank the Lord for that.”  Touching his heart he kissed his hand and moved back up to join the men.  “Straight on to Matlock, gentlemen.  Let us see what awaits.”

“COME AWAY FROM THAT WINDOW, CATHY!”  Lady Matlock demanded.

“It is not as if they can see me, Mama, the carriages are just barely at the end of the drive.  Three of them!”

“Seven Kellys, Richard and whatever servants they brought along.”  Lady Matlock paused and looked to the window.  “The men did not ride.  Curious.”

“I can imagine Richard is dying to leap out.  He hates riding in a carriage.  He says they are for women, children, and old men.”  Cathy leaned on the window frame, watching their approach.  “I wonder what they are thinking in there, driving up to this house . . .”

“They are intimidated, as they should be.  Matlock is a magnificent edifice.  They must appreciate the significance and privilege of joining with this family.”  Lady Catherine swept into the room and took her seat.  “Where is Anne?  She is not bending to Gladney’s absurd notion of meeting them at the door?” 

Albert and Anne entered the room and he continued over to another window to watch the progress of the approaching carriages.  “It is not so incredible, Aunt.  In fact it could even be looked at as affectionate by some of the more romantically inclined.  I was simply desirous of meeting my brother privately and perhaps offering a warning of the ambush that awaits them.”

Lady Matlock pulled on a bell.  “Do not be ridiculous, Albert.”

“That is what I told him.  We are not seeking to frighten anyone.”  Anne sat down and looked at her husband.  “We want to like them.”

He laughed and turning; assessed his mother.  “Give me a reason to believe otherwise, go and greet them yourself.”

“I considered it.” 

“
You
greet them?” Lady Catherine sniffed.  “You should receive them here.  They must come to the Countess.”

“I am aware of protocol, but this is my son.”  Lady Matlock snapped.

“And his unknown new family.  You need to accept the girl, but after this visit, you need not ever entertain her people again.  That is quite convenient if they prove to be unsuitable.”

“They are not heathens, Catherine.  This is precisely the sort of family we have wished for Richard to find.  Good breeding, good dowry, excellent reputation . . . We simply would have preferred to have met them before the wedding day.”  Lord Matlock spoke as he strode into the room and joining Cathy at the window, rubbed his hands together.  “Hmm.  Quite a caravan, but then it is a large family.  There are young boys, I believe.  What are we to do with them, Grace?”  He looked over his shoulder to his wife.  “I imagine their governess is with them, but surely they would prefer to be doing something besides lessons on their holiday.”

“Will you take them shooting?” 

“That is up to their father, I suppose, perhaps a ride.” He turned back to the window.  “It reminds me of when our boys were young.”

“Bringing children on a visit.  They should be left at home!”  Lady Catherine declared.

“Richard says the one boy is fifteen.”  Lady Matlock recalled.

“Georgiana is sixteen and she is coming.  Would you have her stay home and miss Richard’s wedding, Aunt?”  Cathy asked with a cloying smile.

“A girl of sixteen is not the same as a boy of fifteen, she is preparing to be out and marry before long.”  Lady Catherine’s sharp eyes examined her niece.  “I am certain that you remember that time?” 

“Certainly she does, she lives it still.”  Anne smiled sweetly.

“Anne.  Stop.”  Gladney did not turn from the window.  Anne’s face coloured and she stared down at her hands.

Lord Matlock cleared his throat and glanced at his wife.  “Well then, perhaps we can find something to entertain these young men, and I suppose the elder ones will be chasing after Georgiana for some attention.”  He smiled fondly, “I remember my first unrequited love at that age . . .”

“It was the housekeeper’s niece, was it not, Barton?”  Lady Catherine observed, “I never thought of you as sentimental.” 

“You certainly are not.”  He murmured and looked at his daughter who was still watching the silenced Anne.  “Are you prepared to be kind to your new sister?”

Surprised, she straightened, “Richard chose her, so she must have some sort of worthwhile qualities.  I do not see him being swayed by a pretty face alone.” 

“You know that he will not hesitate to correct you if he feels that you slight her.” 

“Papa . . . “

He spoke quietly so that only his daughter could hear him, “I am serious, Cathy, this girl is likely the future of Matlock.  It is best not to alienate her on the first day.”  They fell into silence as the carriages pulled up to the door.

“Well.”  Richard looked around the carriage and waved at the house.  “This is where I was raised.”

Sophie’s eyes were wide and she did not move or speak.  Richard leaned across the carriage and took her hand.  “Think of it as a bit bloated, much like the people within.”