Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (96 page)

“This is not becoming easier.”  Darcy said tiredly and rubbed at the back his neck.

“Better you than me to be the one in charge.”  Samuel said fervently.

Harding looked down and then back to Darcy.  “Your confidence astounds me sometimes.  Where did you acquire it?” 

“My Elizabeth and our family history, I especially feel it when I attend services.”  Darcy’s posture relaxed.  “Do you feel it in the sanctuary?  Surrounded by our ancestors?  Sometimes . . . especially in the last year, I . . . I feel them pressing close, and I am so grateful to have Elizabeth beside me.  She looks at me sometimes in wonder, and flexes her hand when I let go.”  He smiled and closed his eyes, shaking his head.  “Utter nonsense.”

Harding watched Darcy and spoke seriously, “No, I would not say that.  I understand perfectly the feeling that your ancestors are looking over your shoulder.  Sometimes your father would seem to visit me in my more challenging moments.” 

“Did he?”  Darcy asked softly, remembering speaking to his father during the hazy hours on the cliff.  They paused, looking out at the land, Darcy wishing to ask questions, Harding wishing to confess his failings.  Their eyes met and both looked at Samuel, and the moment was gone. 

“So far Uncle Darcy has not visited me, I have to admit that I am grateful for it.”  Samuel laughed.  Darcy and Harding looked at each other again, and Darcy cleared his throat as he led the way to where their horses were tied near the edge of a sizable pond.

Harding pointed to the water.  “When we were newly married, I brought Susan here.  The gamekeeper used to keep a boat tied up just on the other bank there.”

“Look out, William.  He is going to spin a tale.”  Samuel smiled.

“So you took Aunt Susan for boat rides?”

“I purposely fell in once to show off my physique in sodden clothes.”  He smiled when Darcy’s lips lifted and he looked down at his hands.  “Tell me you have not tried to impress your lovely bride?”

Darcy smiled, “I keep her from the gallery and the statue of Adonis.” 

Samuel snorted.  “I know that marble god.  I sincerely doubt that he has anything to compare to you.” 

Darcy said nothing, but his colour rose in his cheeks.  The judge chuckled and looked back out at the pond.  “I will have to take her out here again, if I can tear her away from Hope.  She missed her deeply while we were away.”

“I am surprised that you are not with her, you seem quite attached.” 

Tilting his head, he studied his nephew and the unreadable expression in his eyes.  “Are you?  I have my time in the evenings, when she is awake, and woe to the person who tries to claim her from my arms.  I am afraid that I will regret the day that she begins to crawl, it will be the beginning of her leaving me.”  Harding smiled.  “Who knew that it would come before they are able to stand, but it happens in moments Fitzwilliam, you will see.  One day a babe, the next . . . he is riding off to Lambton.”  He looked to his son.

“You are waxing nostalgic, Father.  I will leave you to it.”  Samuel kicked his horse and rode on ahead.

“He is uncomfortable with my newfound . . . melancholy, for lack of a better word.  It is something he has never known.  He has always been wistful himself, but I have always been the hard, demanding one.  He does not understand what has become of me.  He simply does not know who I once was.”  Harding watched his son.  “I am so proud of him.”

Darcy suddenly felt his father’s absence and worked to clear the catch in his voice, “Samuel is very pleased with his position.”

Harding’s gaze turned to his nephew, “I know, and I am grateful that you found it for him.”

“Sir, I . . .”

“You did.  You were the better man, I wanted to hold him back, or rather hold him with me, close by, like the babe who was once in my arms long ago when I was more father than judge.”  He drew a breath and looked back out at the scenery, “But now, it is Hope who sends me out here in search of ancient rowboats.  She has freed me to remember.” 

“Has she?”  Darcy’s brow creased, but a smile was on his lips.  “Pleasant memories?”

“Yes . . . I hardly realized I had them after so many years.  My gratitude for the gift of that child is immeasurable.”  Harding studied him and his head tilted.  “I know what you are thinking, like Samuel, you do not know what to make of me anymore.” 

“Sir, if . . . if indeed Georgiana’s child has made you a man reborn, then I can only be grateful for her influence.  I . . . A year ago at this time I was in such despair . . . as we all were.  I blamed that for so many,” he closed his eyes and breathed forcefully through his nose, setting his mouth in a tight line while he attempted to put his thoughts into words, “painful discussions between us.”

“I think that there are any number of words you could use, Fitzwilliam.  Painful being the least among them.”  Harding looked down at his hands, mirroring Darcy’s pose on his horse.  “My regret for the year passed is . . . I apologize to you.  I apologize for every hurtful remark, every thought, every action, every . . .”  He stopped himself, remembering his promise to Richard to never reveal the truth. “If I could return to the moment this happened . . .”

“I would, too.”  He interrupted quickly. 

“I do not regret Hope.  She is the light of my life, and Susan is a woman transformed.”

“And Georgiana?”  Darcy said quietly.  “What is she left with?”

“A family that she did not have before.”  Harding nodded when he saw his surprise.  “Were you close with Richard, with . . . Samuel, with me, before this?  Had you taken charge of your relationship with Lady Catherine or the Earl?  Even Wickham?  And your Elizabeth, who you love so dearly, you gave Georgiana so much that she had lost or never had.  Your saving her saved your family.  Your actions, your determination to search for her, your joining forces with the colonel, your incredible compromise of Elizabeth in that library . . .”

Darcy spoke fiercely, “I did not compromise her; I wanted her more than anything in the world.” 

Harding smiled.  “And you have her.   Do not mistake me, Fitzwilliam.  I do not wish to declare this horrible circumstance null because of the good that has come of it.  Your success with keeping it secret remains tenuous at best, but . . . I thank you for the gift of Hope in my life.  And I apologize, with . . . every . . .” Harding stopped.   “Excuse me.  I am becoming undone and it is unmanly.”

The time has come, Will.  Let it go.
Darcy looked away and finally obeyed Elizabeth’s gentle command.  “Yes, sir.  I do not believe that anything more needs to be said between us on this subject.” 

“Thank you.  I am . . . not sure what I have said.”

“I am not sure why you apologized . . . but . . . consider it at an end.”  Darcy glanced at him and then concentrated on the path ahead.  Together they looked out over the farmland spread before them.  “Will you come with me to watch the harvest tomorrow?” 

Harding looked to Darcy’s profile and drew his first free breath in a very long time.  “I appreciate you asking me, Fitzwilliam, but no, thank you.  I know my place, and I am glad of it.”  Nodding, he nudged his horse and turned back towards the pond.  “I think that I will go look for that rowboat.” 

RETURNING HOME TO FIND Elizabeth alone in the dining room, scratching out another list of everything she needed to accomplish, Darcy held out his hand and smiled.  “Come.”

She looked up at him with bleary eyes.  “Susan had to return home to Hope and Georgiana spilled ink on her gown, and I have so much to do.”

“Not today.”  He took her hand and helped her from the chair.  Feeling something odd, he looked down to see his signet ring.  “Dearest, where is your wedding band?” 

“On my hand.”  She smiled and removed his ring, revealing hers.  “It kept falling off my thumb and I dare not lose it.  I thought it would be safer over my ring.  See how well they fit together?” 

Darcy’s eyes lit up.  “Yes, I do.” 

Elizabeth took his hand and slipped the ring back over his finger.  “I was a nervous wreck being responsible for this bit of gold today.  It represents so much.”  Looking up at him, she smiled.  “Your eyes, Will, they are so happy.  Did you have a good time today?”

He did not say a word for several moments, then lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers.  “You look tired, love.  Come and rest.”

Darcy led the way outside to the portico where he removed his coat and waistcoat, and they settled onto the chaise lounge set within the dappled shade of the wisteria vine.  “Will you tell me why you are so happy?”

“I do not know that I can put it into words, but . . . I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders.”  He looked down at her.  “Nothing is solved, but . . . I feel free, for the first time in a very long time.”

“Oh . . .” Elizabeth smiled and then her brow creasing, she played with a button on his shirt. 

Darcy stayed her movement.  “Tell me.”

“I do not wish to spoil your good mood.”

“Tell me, love.”  He lifted her face so that he could read her eyes. 

“Mr. Ferguson is coming to visit.”

“Yes, I know.”  Darcy studied her.  “Do you fear him meeting Georgiana and speaking of Miss Cargill?”

“Are you not fearful?”

“No.  Ferguson has proven clearly that he is . . .” He thought and searched for what to say, “I believe, dearest, that Mr. Ferguson suspected that Miss Cargill was not really our cousin.  But he protected her, he was kind to her, and I believe that should they meet here . . . he will do so again.  I trust him.”

“Very well.”  She hesitated and bit her lip. 

“Tell me, love.” 

“I received a letter from Aunt Catherine and Aunt Grace . . .”

“Together?”  He laughed.  “That cannot be good.”

“They ask . . . they wish for us to invite the Manning family, particularly Mr. Roger Manning, to the house party so that . . . he can be matched to Cathy.”  Shaking her head she waved her hand.  “That is intrusive enough.”

“But not terribly unexpected . . .  Manning and Cathy.” He smiled slightly and looked thoughtfully out at the lawn.  “We have no good excuse for refusing them.  To refuse to issue the invitation would raise more questions than it is worth, and may actually create problems if the Mannings learn of it.”

“Will, this family saw Georgiana, and were introduced to her as Miss Cargill!  Unlike Mr. Ferguson, we cannot hope that they will not notice her at the dinner table!”

“Only Manning was introduced to her, and she barely spoke a word.  And I think that we are agreed she no longer resembles the girl she was then.” 

“Nonetheless she was introduced as Miss Cargill!”  Elizabeth’s voice exposed her worry.  “Why are you not up and pacing!”

“What is our greatest fear?”

“Exposing her.”

“Manning saw her for moments, when she was three months from giving birth and he barely spared her a glance.  Trust me, love.  I travelled with the man. I know when he looks at a woman with interest.  He saw a young girl who was clearly not to be approached.  If he remembers her at all, it will be a vague impression.  Thanks to your quick thinking at Matlock, the family already knows that Miss Cargill was with us.”  His head tilted.  “I seem to recall having this conversation before, only I was the one worried of Manning exposing Georgiana and you were the one reassuring me.  How the tables have turned.” 

“I was desperate to calm you then, I truly did not know your friend’s mind.  I only wanted to keep you from rubbing your chest.”  She pressed her ear to his heart and said worriedly, “Oh Will, so many things could go wrong.” 

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.  “There are probably innumerable ways that she might be exposed, ways that we have not ever considered, but unless we expect to keep her shut up in a tower like some princess cursed by fairies, she will have to stick her nose out in public.  What better place to introduce Miss Darcy than in her home?”

She looked up to him, “This terrifies me, Will.”

“Me, as well.”  His eyes met hers.  “But what choice have we?  I will alert all of our supporters, we will muster the troops.” 

“What happened to you today?”  Elizabeth demanded.

Darcy laughed.  “You would
prefer
to see me rubbing my chest?”

“No!”

“Well then?”  Opening his arms, he pulled her close.  “Soon we will be hosting people, let us enjoy the peace while we can.”

“I do not recognize you.” Elizabeth murmured and closed her eyes. 

Darcy kissed her forehead.  “Yes, you do.” 

Her eyes opened and she looked at him for a moment and smiled before nestling back into the safety of his arms.  “Yes, I do.” 

As he relaxed, he felt her body softening and moulding against his.  One of his hands trailed down her spine, around her hip and back up, tracing a lazy figure eight, as if he were playing a harp.  His eyes closed, and in time, his hand came to a rest over her belly.  “Lizzy?”  There was no response and he twisted his head to see that she had fallen asleep.  Smiling, he caressed her cheek.  “No, you are not with child at all, Elizabeth.”  

Chapter 35

“A
h, here we are.”  Mrs. Johns opened a package and laid it out on the table.  “Now, let us see what can be done.” 

“What is that?”  Mrs. Reynolds looked over her shoulder curiously.

“I wrote to Mrs. Hutchins the moment I heard we were to have a ball.  I knew that she had some recipes for a few things that Mrs. Darcy, the master’s mother, enjoyed when she hosted a party at Pemberley House.  Mrs. Darcy, our Mrs. Darcy, asked after family favourites.  She is fond of following tradition.”  She smiled approvingly and then laughed.  “I will never become used to her sticking her nose in my kitchen, though!”

“Now, now . . .” Evans said warningly as he passed through on the way to his pantry.

Mrs. Johns followed his progress, “Have you ever heard of a mistress so much as admitting that a kitchen is attached to the house?  The smells!  Heaven forbid that they know their food is cooked!  Do you remember Lady Matlock making a face when she passed the stairwell when I had Christmas dinner cooking? I heard what the maids were whispering about, and they said she looked as if she had a mouthful of manure!”