Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (99 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
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“Of course not!  He already has a few gray hairs from the misery he has borne this year.”  Elizabeth laughed and smiling, she stood up on her toes to kiss his cheek.  “Do you feel better?”

“I knew that I would when I spoke to you.  That is why I sought you out.”

“I am glad.  You always make me feel better, too.”

“Thank you for telling me that.”  He smiled and at last relaxed.  “So, when will you make my most fortunate and admired cousin the happiest of men and give him a child to dote upon?”

Elizabeth sighed, “As soon as I am able.” 

“Good.  I look forward to him as a fool.  It will be a new vision of him.”

“Then you cannot move away from Pemberley!”  She said triumphantly.

“You are not moving away, are you?”  Georgiana’s voice cried. 

Samuel spun around and the smile was wiped away from his face.  “No, of course not, dear.” 

“He suddenly changed his tune.”  Darcy was walking with his sister and he moved to Elizabeth’s side.  His gaze swept over her and slipping his hand around her waist, he drew her close. “Are you enjoying your conversation?”

“Very much.”  She smiled up at him.

“Was it really necessary to kiss him?”  He said softly as he held her tighter.

Elizabeth laughed.  “As a matter of fact, it was, besides,
you
sent him to me, if you recall.  I was wondering how long it would be before you appeared.  When did you notice me walking?  Or did one of our loyal servants whisper in your ear?”  Darcy’s eyes twinkled.  “Did you claim Georgiana’s hand so you would not appear the jealous fool, striding down here to take possession?” 

“You were
teasing
me!” He stared.

“I did no such thing!  I would not use dear Samuel as a means to bother you.” 

“Yes, you would!” 

Elizabeth saw Samuel talking with Georgiana, and laughing, wrapped her arms around Darcy’s waist.  “No, I would not, but I love bothering you.” 

“I will bother you this evening.”  Darcy growled.

“Promise?”

One brow crooked upwards, “Will you remain awake?” 

“Will you give me reason to?”  Elizabeth challenged.

“I believe that I can manage it.”  Leaning down he spoke softly against her ear, “What did he speak to you about?  His father?”

“How did you know?”

“I had been hoping that he would.”  Darcy hugged her and looked up at the ridge.  “Here they come.” 

Elizabeth turned to look.  “Oh, my.” 

Darcy felt all of the confidence melting away from her.  “What is wrong, dearest?”  Slipping his arms around her waist, he drew her back against his chest and held her hands.  “Have Jane’s letters upset you so much?”  When he heard no response, he hugged her.  “Why?”

“Because she is my elder sister, and she is everything that I am not.” 

“Truer statements I have never heard.”  Darcy pressed his mouth against her ear.  “May I point out that you, my love, are everything that
she
is not?”

“I am not one to behave with pride.”  Darcy snorted and she spun around. “I am not!  When did I last?”

“When you dressed down Anne for daring to look at me.”  He grinned.  “I heard every word of that conversation, love.”

“You did?”  Elizabeth gasped. 

“Do you truly think that I would have run away and left you alone with her?  Who knows what she might have done!”  He glanced away to check on his sister and cousin and whispered, “You threatened to scratch her eyes out if she looked at me with desire . . .”

“That is not pride!  That is . . . possession!”  She declared.

“Forgive me.  But you spoke of possession to her, too, what was it . . .?  Ah yes, she spoke of you taking me away from her, and you said that you captured what was never hers in the first place.”

“I was defending you.” 

“Do you know what I loved most about that fascinating conversation you had with her?”

“I will not dare to imagine.”  Elizabeth was blushing under the intensity of his stare. 

“You said that nobody respected my opinion, nor considered my feelings in their plans to marry me to Anne.  You said that she had no right to be hurt by my rejection if I was not allowed to feel equally hurt by her presumption.”  His eyes were dark with admiration and desire. “You fought for me.”

Her blush deepened as his grip tightened, “I did not need to; she confessed that she needed to hear everything that you said to her.  And that she was not trying to seduce you.  You addressed everything.  My words were unnecessary.”

“I disagree.  I loved hearing what you said, and especially towards the end when you said that she had better not want me over her husband, because you rather love your Will.”  His smile was glowing in his eyes.  “I rather love my Lizzy.”

“What . . .” She shivered under the overwhelming and wordless expression of his passion for her.  “What . . . what does this have to do with pride, or my sister, or . . . anything?” 

“When I speak of you having pride, I do not speak of arrogance or conceit.  I mean dignity and honour.  Your defence of me before Anne announced clearly how you feel about me and our marriage to one who threatened it from ever happening.”

“I . . . I could not help myself.”  She looked down and he shook his head, lifting her chin. 

“You honour me with your protection and love. We are merely temporary caretakers of this beautiful place.  By caring for all that it encompasses and each other, we are humbly fulfilling our duty.  Do not allow jealousy or simple ignorance to shake your obvious and iron-clad resolve to be Elizabeth Darcy, the Mistress of Pemberley.  You are not Elizabeth Bennet any longer, dear.  You are not the unwanted second daughter.  You are . . .  my love.”

“Oh, my.”

Darcy’s gaze travelled over her face, and smiling, he wiped her cheeks with his thumb.  “I would kiss you as you deserve, but I believe that Samuel and Georgiana would fall to the ground in shock.”  Gently, he turned her head so that she could see the two cousins gaping at them.  “Have you never seen happy tears before?” 

Samuel laughed, breaking the spell.  “Good Lord, William.  I thought that you were strong, but silent.”

“Why?”  Elizabeth at last blinked and laughed, resting her head against Darcy’s chest to hear his thumping heart and sinking into his embrace.  “He had to woo me somehow, besides using his smouldering stare.”  She looked up at him. “Although that was rather effective.”

“Yes, you thought that I hated you, most effective.”  He laughed and noticing his sister, his head tilted.

“Georgiana?”  Elizabeth said quietly.

“Oh . . .”  She blushed.  “I am sorry, I . . . I have barely become used to you teasing each other . . .”

“I promise you, I will not make great declarations of love before witnesses again.”  Darcy’s gaze returned to Elizabeth.  “That is better done in private.”  He tenderly touched his lips to hers and then rested his cheek on top of her head.  “Here they come.”

“Mmm.” 

“Lizzy . . .”

“I know, but I will be Mistress for quite some time.  Let me enjoy just being Lizzy for a few moments longer.”  Darcy’s chuckle rumbled through his chest. 

The carriage rolled down the drive and Bingley pointed out the foursome.  Eyes fixed on the manor moved to the group in the garden, and were treated at that moment to Georgiana and Samuel waving and walking towards them, while Darcy and Elizabeth walked hand in hand, and paused for a kiss.

“Look at them, in public like that!” Caroline stared. “Shocking!”

“Well, it is
their
home.”  Hurst pointed out. 

“It seems that the honeymoon continues.”  Louisa sighed.

“So it does.”  Bingley laughed and looked to Jane.  “They seem very happy.”

“Yes . . .”  Her gaze turned to the house as the carriage drew to a halt. 

By the time that the door was opened and they stepped down, the Darcys had arrived.  Elizabeth held her husband’s arm and he was standing tall, his slight smile was in place and his chin lifted with pride.  Catching the mischievous twinkle in his eye, Elizabeth laughed and returning her gaze to her guests, said confidently, “Welcome to Pemberley, welcome to our home.” 

 

 

Chapter 36

 

“T
here you are.  Your mother saw you riding up and dashed off to the kitchen to order you a plate.  I told her that you probably ate up at the manor.”  Harding smiled as Samuel entered the drawing room and took a seat.  Hope was standing up in his lap and gnawing on his shoulder.  Her bright blue eyes were wide and she stared at Samuel, following him around the room before returning her attention to the growing wet spot on her parent’s formally immaculate coat.

“Is she hungry?”  Samuel asked with a small smile.

Harding tilted his head back to watch the busy girl.  “I imagine she might be working on a first tooth.” 

“Already?  She is not that old.”

“Sometimes it takes months for them to work their way out.  These are dangerous times for a child.”  He said soberly.  “Many a babe has died as their teeth came in.”

“Why is that?”  Samuel sat up and looked to the now crowing baby with concern.

“I am no physician, Son.  I can only pray that she remains well.  So many things can take a babe.”  Hope began determinedly trying to climb up his chest.  After one dangerously placed foot on his thigh made him wince, he found her a stuffed rabbit Susan had made and she happily sat on his lap and waved it.  He looked up to Samuel and noticed his fixed attention on the baby.  “I remember when you were this age.”

“Do you?”  Samuel said softly.  “Did I climb to the top of Mount Darcy?” 

His father laughed.  “I am sure that you did.”  He kissed the top of Hope’s head and gave his attention to his son.  “How are things at the manor?  Fitzwilliam was looking forward to seeing Bingley again.”  Samuel said nothing and looked down at his hands.  Harding watched a tangle of emotions playing over his face.  “What is it, Son?”

“I did not remain to eat, I . . . I left soon after the guests arrived, and went for a ride by myself.  My conversation with Elizabeth left me with too much on my mind to be good company.”  Samuel looked to the empty doorway and then met his father’s concerned eyes.  “I have been thinking . . . I do not know you anymore.  Who are you?  Which Harding Darcy is true?  And . . . can I expect the one that I know now to stay?  I have spent a lifetime dancing around you . . .”

“Was I always so harsh?”  He asked quietly.

“No.”  Samuel sighed and rubbed his face.  “My earliest impressions are different, maybe that is what gave me hope.  But, it became worse about . . . five or six years ago . . .  I thought that it was because I had entered Cambridge and I was preparing for my future . . .  You demanded so much of me.”  Samuel shrugged.  “I do not remember you ever being so affectionate.”  He looked to how his father held securely to Hope.  “I suppose that you might have been.  But then . . . I suppose that most children are set to work when they are six years old, and I should have been grateful that I had everything you could give me.”

“You did.  You did have everything that I
could
give you.”  They both looked at the baby who was staring at him so seriously.  “I must have done something correctly, Son.  Look at the man you have become.”  Harding smiled.  “I could not be prouder of you.”

“Thank you.”  His eyes drifted to the baby and Harding followed his gaze. 

“My words sound hollow?”

“I am not used to them.  I . . . did not expect endless praise.  Elizabeth told me of your mother’s journals, I know what you endured.  Mother told me, too.  If you never heard it, you probably do not know how to express . .  Lord, I sound so selfish.  Ignore me, Father.”   He said disgustedly and started to rise.

“No.”  Harding said clearly.  “Please sit down.  I understand better than I can say.  I am sorry that I was to you what my father was to me.  I did not set out to be that way, in fact I wished to be the opposite.”  He tried to find a way to explain himself and finally found one.  “I remember your brothers lying on the floor, just over there . . .” He pointed near the hearth and Samuel looked to the spot.  “They lay there, coaxing you to crawl to them.  They tried everything, waving a toy, bits of biscuits, even coming behind to give a push . . .” Harding’s eyes welled up and Samuel started to speak, but his father stopped him.  His voice was choked, but he shook his head.  “Do you not see?  I can talk about them again.”  He said hoarsely.  “I can visit them, and tell them about you.”

“Because of Hope?”  Samuel whispered and looked to the baby.

“I utterly rejected her, just as I utterly rejected life when I lost the children.  Call it what you will, melancholia . . . grief . . . anger or disappointment . . .  I was numb, because if you are numb, you do not feel pain.  The problem is, you do not feel happiness either, and when you do allow the feelings to come out, they are explosive.”  Samuel thought of his father’s rages and nodded slowly.  “I made myself absent from your life . . .”

“Hardly.  If anything you meddled to the point that I was sick of you.”

“Is that so?”  Harding laughed.  “I did not realize . . .”

“It was in a controlling way, but I . . . thought that it might be a way of expressing your . . . I hoped that it was affection, of some sort, even if it scared the devil out of me.”

“It was.”  Harding looked down at the baby.  “I pray that I am a better parent now.”

“You confuse me.”

“In time, maybe you will believe that it is sincere.”  Harding looked up to him.  “You are my only son.  My only living child.  Hope is a gift, and I will love her until the day I die.   But you are my flesh.   I hope that one day, you will not think of who I was, but . . . who I strive to be.”

“Do not disappoint me, sir.”  Samuel spoke quietly.

“I have done enough of that for several lifetimes.”  He said seriously.  “I do not ask for forgiveness.  But I will settle for tolerance.” 

“I think that I can do better than that, Father.”  Samuel swallowed and held out his arms.  “May I hold her?” 

“Of course.”  Harding handed the baby over and she stared up at Samuel curiously.  

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