Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (93 page)

“Battling is the word.”  .

 “If I had known in mid-August that in a mere . . . eight weeks, I would have the honour of refusing to dance with you . . .”  Elizabeth started to laugh and his eyes brightened with the sound, “I would . . . I would . . . it would have made the time in between . . . tolerable.” 

She sighed at his smile and caressed his jaw, “You have not spoken of that time, not really.”

“No.”  He looked away to the window and said nothing for some time, just holding her hand and watching the sunshine dancing on the lake. 

“I do not mean to press you . . .”

“I know.” 

She could see him swallow down and his jaw working.  “Will . . .  Let us change the subject, you wanted to talk about the future and I am purposely avoiding . . .”

“I was preparing to tell the family that she was gone.”  He said suddenly in a strangled voice.  “I was . . . battling between giving up hope and holding on to it.”  Blinking, he drew a steadying breath.  “Ironic that it was Hope who was ultimately born.”  He looked at her and was glad that her arms came around his waist and he rested his chin on her head.  “I suppose that she was conceived about now.” 

“I have thought that, too.”  Elizabeth whispered and he kissed her hair.  “What would the family have done if you had confessed?” 

“Lord knows.”  He sighed.  “Uncle Harding was adamant that we not give up.” 

“I do not believe that you would have, even without his urging.”  Elizabeth looked up at him.  “You might have harboured your private despair and would have, as is your typical behaviour, prepared for the day when you could not hide her absence from the family any longer, but I do not see you putting a death notice in the papers.”

“No?”

“No.  Never.” 

“Perhaps not.”  Brushing her hair away from her forehead, he smiled a little.  “I am glad that you left your hat behind in the copse this morning.” 

She laughed.  “I know how you hate them.” 

“Well, sometimes they are quite becoming and frame your face very prettily, but . . . not this morning; I loved seeing you riding with your curls dancing around your shoulders, I love that your hair came down.”

Blushing, she rested her head against his chest.  “The looks the boys at the stable gave me!” 

Darcy smiled, knowing that it was not her hair they were staring at, but the glow that radiated from her after their encounter.  “Point them out to me and I will have them whipped for looking at you.”

“Will!”  She gasped and pulled away.  “You are teasing me!” 

“Not really.”  His voice was serious but his eyes twinkled. 

“You look a little happier.”  She traced over his whiskers.

Wrapping a curl around his finger, he held it up to his nose and kissed it. “Must one always be happy?”

“Well, my sister seems to think so.  She told Mama of their decision to leave Netherfield and their search for an estate of their own, and she is inexplicably dismayed by Mama’s rather . . . expressive reaction.”

“It is the compounding of those expressive reactions that drive Bingley away from Mrs. Bennet’s presence, you know.  He took Jane from Longbourn this summer specifically to accustom Mrs. Bennet to her absence and to convince Jane that Longbourn will survive without her.” 

“I did not realize that.”  Elizabeth said softly as he caressed his fingers through her hair.  “I thought that it was to bring her relief after caring for Papa and . . . everything on her own.” 

“She was
not
on her own.”  He reminded her.  “No matter how many times she spoke of her burdens and wondered . . . ever so politely . . . of your absence.  She was not alone.”

Elizabeth became a little defensive, but her voice was strained all the same, “She was not trying to be mean; she simply did not understand why I stayed away, how could she?”

“If it were not for Georgiana, would you still have wished to be there?  You had the opportunity to go and you declined.  Do you regret that?”  

Elizabeth looked into the gentle pool of blue that held her gaze.  “No.  But how could I ever explain that without sounding like an ungrateful daughter?”

“You could not, not clearly, and that is why she remains confused, and perhaps a bit bitter.”

“Jane?”  Elizabeth laughed.  “That is like mistaking sugar for salt; they look the same but are impossible to mistake one for the other.” 

“I think that both of us carry some amount of guilt for things that our sisters experienced, things for which we are entirely faultless.  And as you tell me, we must let them go.”  He spoke seriously.  “Whatever I was, I now know that in my heart, I did my very best for my sister.  And you, dearest Elizabeth, are not at fault for any burden that your sisters had to experience as your father passed.  Your peace was made with him.   He needed to die without you there, to atone for his attempts to keep you . . .”  His eyes grew bright.

“From you.” 

“But by sending you to me, look at all of the good it has done.”  He kissed her and then slid his hand back over her belly.  “You said that you want to be with child nearly more than anything in the world.”

“I do.  I am terrified to admit that I am. Should I lose the baby . . .”

“We would simply try again.  That is all.”  Elizabeth’s lips parted in surprise and he laughed.  “Dearest, I am not naive and we suspect it might have happened once already.  How many miscarriages did my mother suffer?  I know that the worst can happen, but as you wisely reminded me this morning, you are stronger than I give you credit for being because I want to protect you at all times.  I want, nearly more than anything in the world, for you to truly be carrying the first of our proposed four boys and two girls.”  Elizabeth laughed and wiped the tears that began to track down her face.  “But, should this one, who I believe with all of my heart is real, choose not come . . . then we will have another chance.  And another, and on and on, until you cannot stand the sight of me coming towards you with my . . .” He laughed, “My netherparts aflame.”

Elizabeth’s hand clapped over her mouth when she gasped with laughter.  “Will!” 

Darcy smiled and then caressed his palm over her stomach.  “I pray daily for our baby to be here.”  He looked up at her again.  “Should it not be today, then it will be tomorrow.  I know that.  I want
you
to know that.  Whatever weight you have placed upon yourself to produce an heir for me is unnecessary.  He will come.  And any well-meaning relative or sadly smiling neighbour who gives unsolicited advice or opinion may be ignored.  It is important, I will not lie.  It is very important, but . . . he will come, and someday when this house is full of noise, you and I will look at each other and reminisce fondly of our silent hallways.” 

Elizabeth stared at him in absolute wonder.  “Why did I not ask you your opinion of this months ago?”

“I am sorry that you did not, but then, I have spoken often about my hopes.  Perhaps that discouraged you.”  He shrugged and kissed her.  “If it increased the burden rather than made you happy, I am sorry.” 

“I have to stop holding my fears so close to my heart.”  She sighed and then tapped on his nose.  “As do you.”

“I know.” 

“I hope that in some small way I have helped you.  I know that your burden is just as . . . no, it is more difficult than mine.”

His hand clasped hers tightly.  “No dearest, we both are striving to secure Pemberley’s future, are we not?  We both hold the same lives in our hands by what we do today.” 

“Oh my . . . I am not certain how comforting that thought is.”  She brushed back the draping fringe of hair and watched it return to cover his brow again.  “Do you feel better?”

Darcy nodded.  “A thousand times.  Nothing is solved and yet I feel so much better for speaking of it.  And you?” 

“Yes.  I feel the same way, about everything.” 

“Are you with child, Lizzy?”  He smiled and laughed when she sighed.  “Are you?” 

“Maybe.”

“Good.  Let me know the moment that maybe becomes yes.”  His eyes twinkling, he leaned down to kiss her and stopped.  “If having a baby is almost your favourite wish, what
is
your deepest held dream?” 

“What is yours?”  Elizabeth challenged with sparkling eyes.  Darcy laughed and leaned in, but was halted by her fingers pressed to his mouth. “You will not answer, Mr. Darcy?”

“I am about to.”  Moving her hand aside, he kissed her.  “But do you need it spelled out for you?”

“I am but an ignorant young girl . . .”

“Pshaw!”  Darcy eyed her smiling face.  “Tell me yours.”

“That you will always love me.”  Her cheeks coloured, but she lifted her chin defiantly.  “Can you do better for a wish?”

“Of course.”  Elizabeth’s face fell.  “I wish that you would always love . . .
and
want me.”

She groaned and pinched him.  “You just had to add in the wanting part, did you?  I did not find it necessary to say that in mine, it was a given.” 

“I am a man, what can I say?  It is perpetually on my mind.”  He watched his fingers as they traced from her shoulder to her thigh.  “Now, may I show you?”

Throwing her arms around his neck, she rolled him onto his back and smiled down at his delighted face, “I wish that you would!” 

Chapter 34

“M
r. Collins, if you do not stop apologizing I will have to insist that you leave my room and not return ever again.”  Mary said wearily.  “I told you a week ago that I forgive you, is that not enough?  I realize that you have difficulty hearing what others are saying, but surely forgiveness is something you would seek from me?”

“Of course, dear Mary, but I am afraid that I cannot accept your forgiveness so easily.  You see,” he pulled over a chair and sat down beside her dressing table, “I have insulted you cruelly.”

Mary held back her urge to scream and instead balled her hands into fists.  “I
know
that. Mr. Collins.” 

“I did not mean to.  When I wrote to Mr. Darcy, it was . . . it was not to . . . to . . . gloat that you, my dear wife, had allowed me the . . . great gift of your body for my pleasure, since after all, it is my right to . . .”  Seeing her stare, he backtracked quickly, “not that I would assert such a right in any way that would meet with your objections, you have always been most willing to accommodate . . .”  He swallowed.  “Mrs. Collins . . . I . . . I am afraid that I . . . I felt the inexplicable need to . . . very well, triumph, to my brother, Mr. Darcy.  You see, I had heard . . .
quite energetically
, of his greatness from Lady Catherine.  She was exceptionally passionate in her unending praise and description of his worth and . . . his estate and his . . . potential!”

Sighing tiredly, Mary nodded, “Naturally, she desired that he be her son, she expected it.”

His head bobbed eagerly, “Yes, yes, and I fully supported the notion!”

“But he married my sister instead.” 

“A promise was made to me by your father . . .” He began petulantly and added hurriedly, “Not, not that I regret in any way marrying you, my dear.  I know that you and I are eminently the better match, we are . . . we are like two peas in a pod, you and I!” 

Mary did her best not to roll her eyes, and instead drew on her years of experience enduring her parents’ indifference and her observation of Elizabeth bearing her mother’s insults with grace.  “You were insulted that someone as great as Mr. Darcy would take away your promised bride because he was to have someone better?”

“Well . . . Not precisely, it just did not seem fair, he could have
anyone
after all.  He could refuse Miss de Bourgh, although why he would do that and give up Rosings, surely gaining that magnificent estate would be worth the deficiencies of marrying such a delicate creature, but then when he looked upon Miss Elizabeth,
Mrs. Darcy
, she was clearly the picture of health and surely more attractive to such a powerful man to satisfy his needs for a connubial partner for his  . . .” His mouth shut again and he swallowed.

“Future life?”  Mary said quietly.

“Yes . . . his life.”  He coughed and hung his head.  “Well, she was promised to me, and . . . I . . . was rather . . . proud that not only had I married the clearly better sister, but that you have given me . . . are giving me . . . a child.  Before him.”  He looked up at her pleadingly.  “Do you understand?”

“The better sister?  Your pride in our union made you boast of our child being formed before his?”  She said slowly.  “How am I better than Lizzy?”

“I . . . As much as our brother is obviously the perfect match for her, I know that I would be the exact opposite.  I . . . feel that if she were my wife, I . . . I would spend most of my time tending to the garden in all sorts of weather simply to limit our company.  You . . . you seek my company.” 

Mary absorbed his statement and moved on, “Your pride led me to be utterly humiliated before our family.  And how much hurt did it bring upon Lizzy and Mr. Darcy?  I am certain that he has written to you about this, I could see a change in you weeks before this letter from Lady Catherine came.  What did he say to you?”

“He . . . He was very direct in his opinion of me.  I daresay that an invitation to Pemberley is not . . . likely very soon.  His dislike of me is quite significant.”  He saw Mary’s expression and looked at her pleadingly, “I am very sorry, Mary.  I know how you care for Mrs. Darcy.  You see his anger lies not only in my words about his lack of success with his wife, I . . . I was using Mr. Darcy . . . I was claiming his knowledge as my own and fooled nobody but myself in the attempt.”  He hung his head again.  “The wise in heart will receive commandments; but a pratin
g fool shall fall.” 

“Pride goeth before destruction, and an
haughty spirit
before a fall.”  Mary corrected.  Collins lifted his eyes hopefully and she sighed.  “This is the first time that I have heard you truly humble on any subject.”

“Do forgive me, Mary.”  He begged.

“I already did, but if I ever hear of you speaking of my sister in any way that is not in the most glowing terms, I . . . I will send for Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley and Lady Catherine to come and deal with you,
after
I have had my chance!”  Mary lifted her chin.  “Now . . . whatever direction Mr. Darcy gave you in his letter, I . . . I suggest that you go and live up to his expectations.  I am bearing your child; the least you could do is . . . be better than my father and provide a good future for him.”