Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (88 page)

“Yes, I would not be there as an equal, would I?”  Mrs. Annesley nodded.  “And . . . being here, I had the opportunity to know the staff better, and become a part of the family here.  Did you know how tightly knit your staff is?  Sixty individuals, all with their own dramas, it is such a community.  They revere Mr. Darcy; and their respect for you . . . the stories and admiration for what you have done for Mr. Darcy since you came, madam, how he has changed and how you care for him . . .”

Smoothing her hands over her gown, Elizabeth folded them together again.  “I appreciate their loyalty, but I do not need to hear of it.  I am only glad that you feel that you have become a part of our home.” 

“I have, I think.  At Mr. Evans’ suggestion, I would join Mrs. Reynolds when she gave her tours of the house.”

Elizabeth relaxed and laughed, “So you appreciate our history now.” 

“Yes.  How could you not with such a devoted tour guide?”  She smiled. 

“Ahh, yes.”  Elizabeth smiled and sighed, and then rising, walked to the music room door and closing it, returned to her seat.  Mrs. Annesley watched her curiously.  “While we were in Matlock, the subject of our visit to Sommerwald was naturally brought up by the various members of the Kelly family.  We revealed that Miss Darcy was with us the whole time.”  Mrs. Annesley’s mouth opened in surprise.  “Did you hear of another girl?”

“There was some talk of a girl seen in the garden.  Eventually someone asked her identity and was told her name was Cargill?” 

“What was said of her?” 

She hesitated and met Elizabeth’s steady gaze, “She was sweet and kind . . . Mr. Ferguson said that one time and then nothing more.  He was in Castle Douglas at one of the inns and someone from the blacksmith’s asked him about the pretty lady he had seen when he came to shoe the horses.  That was when the butcher’s boy said he had asked Mrs. Shaw who the girl in the garden was.  She was said to be quite lovely.”  She hesitated.

 “And?”  Elizabeth encouraged. 

“With child.”  Mrs. Annesley said quietly.  “Was she?” 

“Does it matter?  She was never introduced to anyone; she was never a part of their society, and her existence then and now has no impact on any of their lives.  She is the subject of idle gossip to a small neighbourhood who were curious about the return of one of their absent families, which made them all the more curious of our desire for privacy.  I imagine that any thought of her will fade rather quickly now that we are gone.  She is rather like a phantom, don’t you think?”

“Of course.  That is a . . . wise way to regard her, Mrs. Darcy.”  Mrs. Annesley felt her heart clenching for Georgiana as she remembered the gathering of ladies and the idle and sometimes unkind gossip.  She thought of riding to Pemberley with the newborn baby and Mrs. Darcy’s joy contrasted with the judge’s obvious relief to put Scotland behind them.  Elizabeth did not say a word, but Mrs. Annesley read everything in her eyes and knew what she was asking of her.  “I would not have given another thought to her had you not mentioned it, madam.  I . . . believe that she must have a wonderful family.” 

“I believe that she does, too.”  Elizabeth closed her eyes and felt relief wash over her, and then took the next step.  “Miss Darcy was witness to a heated conversation at Matlock concerning what should be done with fallen girls, and the opinions of her relatives were disturbing to her.  It was then followed by Mrs. Kelly’s mention of Miss Cargill and speculation of her condition, and the . . . gentleman who was seen with her . . .”

“Oh my.”  Mrs. Annesley shook her head.  “I do not believe that Mr. Dar . . . the gentleman . . . was held responsible by most, as . . .” She hesitated and looked to her lap, “You were obviously happy with him and would not have tolerated hosting the girl he had . . .  You were simply providing . . . a place of sanctuary at her time of need.” 

“By
most
, the gentleman was considered innocent.”  Elizabeth shook it off and opened her eyes.  “As I said, Miss Darcy was witness to this discussion by family who have not seen her for a long time, and I believe that it has brought home to her how fortunate she is to be living here at Pemberley.  I imagine that it makes her reluctant to leave, and hesitant to see what she might encounter in the future.  It is Mr. Darcy’s and my opinion that as much as we love her and welcome her to live out her days in our home, she must step out into the world, even if it is only for a brief time, or else she will never . . .”

“Recover.”  The women looked at each other.

“You understand.”

“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.  I do.  May I say that I had no idea?  Your efforts have been exceptionally successful at Pemberley for a staff so committed to your family not to know.” 

“Well.  Thank heaven for that.”  Elizabeth at last managed a small smile.  “We debated what to tell you, and when.  And if it had not been for your connection to Mrs. Kelly and the likelihood of her sending a letter to you, I would have left it for Georgiana to determine when you would be told.  I hope that our trust in you is well-placed, and I hope that if she ever chooses to tell you all, that you manage to convince her that it is the first you have heard of it.”

“Would that not be a lie to her?  Would it help her to know that I am aware so that she can be open with me of her feelings?”

“No, I have come to know my sister, and she will speak when she feels safe with you.  Do not force the issue.  Be her friend and it will come, if she wishes.” 

“Will you tell me how this came to pass?  I have a terrible sense that this was worse than a moment of foolishness on the part of a naive girl.” 

“It was . . . foolishness was certainly involved, but it was not a matter of moments.  My husband endured . . . a living hell . . .”  Her eyes welled up, “Please forgive my language, he still has yet to reveal to me everything that happened. I think that the pain of it all is too wrenching for him, and Georgiana has kept much of it to herself as well.”  She closed her eyes as thoughts of her husband intruded.  She knew that he was keeping something from her, and the worry was becoming difficult to bear.  Mrs. Annesley put a supporting hand on her forearm, and opened her eyes to see the companion’s attention.  Determinedly shaking it off, she cleared her throat.  “How it happened is not my concern now.  We must address the present and the future.”  Standing, she searched her gown for her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.  “My goodness this is damp already.  How many times today have I found myself close to tears?”

“Are you well, Mrs. Darcy?  I am sorry that your plans were cancelled.”  Mrs. Annesley asked with a gentle smile.  “Mr. Darcy looks at you with such happiness.” 

“Oh.”  Elizabeth blushed and tucking away her handkerchief, walked to the door with her.  “He is famous for looking at me.”

I
TOLD
UNCLE that we needed to go home.
  Darcy nodded to himself as he guided Bruin over the old familiar path to the farthest field of the home farm and towards his waiting steward.  His mind was miles away from his worries, and he was completely, utterly, relaxed.  The entire way, his imagination had been at work, reliving their frenzied encounter and envisioning what exactly she had planned for their day together.  He knew that she was as sated as he, but he also knew that she was not in the least through.  That sent a new thrill through him, wondering when and how she would strike.  There was no question of if.  He had foiled her plans and Elizabeth was not a woman to have her desires put off.   The anticipation was exquisite, even if the pain of riding his headstrong stallion while aroused was not. 

“It should be a fine harvest, sir.”  Barnes pulled out a small leather bound book from a saddle bag and opening to a page, handed it over to his master.  If he noticed that Darcy started when he spoke and kept his reins over his breeches, the steward made no sign of it.  “I compared the yields from the last few seasons.  If we manage to bring all of this in before the rains come, we will have tripled the profit.”

“Well then, our decisions about the farming were wise.”  Darcy murmured and focussing on the book, read over the numbers, tracing his finger down the columns describing the wheat, maize, and oats.  His brow creased at the barley numbers and seeing his master’s concern, Barnes smiled and turned the page.  “You ran out of room.” 

“Yes, sir.”  He laughed. 
Where are you really, Mr. Darcy, surely it is not here
. 

Darcy shot him a sideways glance and cleared his throat, “Well done.  I will have to write to Mr. Ferguson and tell him of our success.”

“I hope that you do not mind sir, but I invited him to visit when his crops are in next week.  Now that the rotation has proven successful on the home farm, I know that you will be anxious to implement it everywhere.  He was curious to see how much the harvesting machine eases the work.  I am certain that the labourers on the rest of Pemberley will be, as well.”  He nodded to the crowd of men gathered by the field. 

“As we suspected, we have observers?  Has everything been cordial thus far?”

“Thus far, it is only the first day.  But I am ready if necessary.”  He patted the pistol at his side.

“I sincerely hope it does not come to that.”  Darcy said quietly.

“As do I.  I have sent out your orders to be restrained.  But if it comes, I think that our conjectures are correct, it will be another day, after they have sized up the competition, or maybe striking in the dark to destroy the machine.  I think that is more likely.”

“I hope that we are preparing for nothing and the violence seen elsewhere will not be repeated here.  I hope that our efforts to care for our people will be enough to allay their fears.  It is just on the home farm, after all.”   Watching the men and then looking to the machine at work, he ordered softly, “Let’s put some men in the storage shed at night.”  Darcy lifted his brows.  “Just in case.”

“Yes, sir.”  Barnes agreed. 

His sharp eyes focussed on the fields and he immersed himself again in the problems of the estate, “Mrs. Darcy thought it would be a fine idea to come and observe with me today.”  They both looked at the workers standing at the edge of the field with crossed arms and then at each other.  “Some other day, perhaps.” 

“ARE YOU TAKING INVENTORY?”  Mr. Walker demanded as Ferguson made another note in his ledger. 

“I am guardian of the estate in the master’s absence, Mr. Walker.  He will receive a full accounting of every item that was removed from his home.”  Ferguson nodded to the bookshelf.  “I do not believe that any of those are yours.” 

Walker’s hand went back to his side.  “Why?”

“All of the bindings match.  They were purchased as a complete set as a showpiece for the library.  My father told me all about it; Mr. Darcy’s grandfather bought them.”  Raising his brow, he looked around the study.  “Have you everything?”

“There is something missing.  A vase that I purchased for my wife’s birthday.  It was sitting on a small table . . .” He looked around.  “That is missing as well.” 

Ferguson knew full well where the table was, glued together, it sat in his office supporting an assortment of whiskey bottles.  “Mrs. Shaw.”  Ferguson called to the hovering housekeeper.  “Do you know anything of a vase that was once here?”

As she had disposed of the shards herself, she looked at the steward and then to Mr. Walker.  “No, Mr. Ferguson.”

“I thought that it was broken.  Mr. Darcy smashed it.”  Ferguson shrugged and looked back down at his ledger.  “Perhaps I was wrong.  He was rather infuriated after receiving a letter from his uncle.  Lord Matlock . . .”

“Lord Matlock.”  Mr. Walker swallowed and shot a look at the housekeeper.  “No matter, no matter, it was a poor piece in any case.”

“You gave your wife a poorly made vase for her birthday?”  Ferguson looked up and then back to his ledger. 

Walker blustered, “It was not so poor . . .”

“mmmhmm.”  Ferguson nodded and looked to Mrs. Shaw.  “Could you look after things for a moment?”

“Yes, sir.”  She watched him go and then turning to Mr. Walker, saw him close his eyes.

“This is humiliating, but I could not very well send a servant to do this.”  He opened a desk drawer and poked at the contents.  “Stupid fool.”  He looked up and around the room.  “I had myself convinced that this was mine.  I sat behind this desk and thought myself lord of the manor.  I liked being looked at with respect, and the longer we stayed, the more people forgot about the Darcys.  This was
our
home.” 

Mrs. Shaw whispered, “That is a fine thing to think, sir, but why did you tell your son such a lie?  He would find out eventually that this was not to be his.” 

“I was going to say that the true heir had been found . . . a mistake was made and . . . well, it is all for naught.  Secrets and lies.  I have sworn off them.  Darcy has me caught out and I am a laughing stock.”  He paused and looked to her.  “What’s this I hear of Darcy stowing away a pregnant girl here this summer?  Is it true?  Is that why he wanted the place back?  One of his dalliances?  Brave man to have her under the same roof as his new bride.  Mrs. Darcy must be a tartar to have demanded that.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Walker.  I think that you should gather your things and put this sad chapter behind you.”

“Changed loyalties have you?”  He picked up his satchel full of papers and mementos and looked around.  “I have another night at the inn.  I will hear it there sure enough.”

“Sir, you are letting your bitterness get away with you . . .”

“Sour grapes, Mr. Walker?”  Ferguson reappeared with the portrait of a woman in hand.  “I just remembered this.  Mrs. Darcy had it removed from the master’s chambers.” 

“Where was it?”  He looked at his wife and then back at Ferguson.

“Does it matter?”  He put a check on his list.  “I believe that is everything, sir?  Would you read this over and sign?”

“Sign?” 

“Mr. Darcy asked his uncle the judge to draw it up before he left.  It is a statement that you have inspected the premises and have removed all of your belongings.  You will not return seeking any other forgotten items.”