Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice, page 98
“At Matlock with Cathy and Albert. They … chose to remain a bit longer.”
“Why?”
“Why not just tell me what you are after, Catherine.” Lord Matlock took his seat and studied her. “You have been plotting something. I can tell; that vein by your eye is thumping madly.”
She glared and raised her chin. “You should be grateful I have come.”
“Why?” He leaned back tiredly.
“I have heard, through sources of my own, that Matlock’s heir is a problem.” Lord Matlock’s eyes closed and he blew out a large amount of air. “I am not incorrect?”
“What have you heard?”
“Gambling, lascivious behaviour …” Her brows rose. “You have done well keeping it quiet.”
“Not well enough, it seems. Do you know the extent of the problem?”
“I surmised it was nothing more than a typical bored heir filling his time.”
“Indeed.” He sighed and rested his hands on the desk. “What is your aim here, Catherine? You do not ever come here without a wish for gain.”
“Hmmph.” She sniffed. “Darcy failed Anne; he failed his parents and Pemberley by breaking the tacit engagement with my daughter. I have, after expressing my disappointment, come to accept that his marriage is final and that to protest further publicly would do more harm than good. However, my daughter remains unmarried and Rosings remains without a Fitzwilliam heir.”
“Ah. A Fitzwilliam heir.” Lord Matlock perked up. “You interest me, Sister. Your calculating mind has clearly rejected choosing another gentleman for Anne?”
Lady Catherine held his eyes for several moments of stony silence. Her brother did not flinch. At last the dowager gave in. “Anne is not fit to marry a typical gentleman; she would never survive a Season. If any sensible man were to take her, it would be to gain Rosings and to count the days before she died.”
“So Darcy was insensible for wanting a whole woman from the beginning?”
Ignoring him, Lady Catherine ploughed forward, “And it would forever eliminate the chance to impress the Fitzwilliam family into Rosings history, unless …”
“She marries a Fitzwilliam? Other than Darcy.” He chuckled at the sour expression on her face. “So now you turn to your brother’s children instead of your sister’s. May I remind you that Albert must produce an heir to carry on the earldom, and Anne most certainly cannot do so? I am afraid that your plan is impossible.”
“Your heir is infected with the French disease, and will not be living much longer.” She smiled triumphantly when her brother stared. “I was correct! Your face proves it!”
“I do not know for certain. But it is possible.” He rubbed his face. “So you suggest Richard …”
“No, no, Richard is inevitably to be Earl of Matlock one day; he must marry a healthy girl and begin work on his family. I notice that you no longer refer to your son as Gladney? You seem to have come to the same conclusion?”
“You were always too clever to be a woman.” Lord Matlock snarled. “Very well then, yes, I suspect that Richard will outlive his brother, and yes, I suspect that Albert is diseased, and that, amongst other things, is why I have decided he will never marry. Richard will, in time, sell his commission and take over Gladney, marry and begin his family, and begin the work of learning the earldom. Albert will retire from social life.” He sighed.
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why would not Richard step into Gladney now? You have already deemed your heir null, even if he does live for some time, you have crowned Richard and his children your successors. What are you not telling me?”
Lord Matlock sat forward. “Very well, you must have it all. Gladney is empty, Sister. Albert is an opium addict who has gambled away a lifetime of funds. He sold off the contents of Gladney to finance his habits, and now I am selling what I can of Matlock to pay his debts. Your spies concentrated on the interesting details for you. No doubt you enjoyed sifting through descriptions of the brothels and gasped in horror of the goings-on within them while eating up every detail!” Lady Catherine’s cheeks coloured and he nodded. “Now, are you so certain you want Anne to be married to him? Have I dashed your plans?” He nearly laughed when she jumped to her feet. “Did I say something sister?”
She snatched up her stick and shook it at him. “You have not heard the last of me.”
“I have no doubt of that.” Lord Matlock smiled and watched her depart. It faded when he heard the front door close in the distance. “If she knows, everyone knows.” Rubbing his hand across his face, he sighed. “I might very well have to take her offer.” Hearing the door open again, he sat up, and was surprised to see not his sister in the doorway, but his son.
“Father …” Richard entered his father’s study and looked backwards. “I just had the most … odd conversation with Aunt Catherine on the steps. She … tapped my shoulder with her walking stick. If I had been kneeling, I believe that she would have deemed me a knight!” He looked at his father incredulously. “What the devil was that about?”
“Sit down, Son.” Lord Matlock waved wearily at the chair opposite his desk and picking up a corkscrew from the table behind him, opened the bottle Lady Catherine had left and poured out two glasses.
Cautiously, Richard took a sip and surprise suffused his face. “This is not backwash! You purchased some good wine?”
“A gift from my dear sister. From the Rosings wine cellars.”
He stopped tipping the glass up for another sip. “What does she want?”
“Nothing gets past you.” He smiled. “What would save Matlock?”
“Money … Rosings. Oh good Lord, Father, you did not go to her … you decided that proposing Bertie marry Anne was wrong!”
“I did not propose that Albert marry Anne.”
Richard slammed the glass down. “Well I will be damned if I will!” He jumped to his feet and strode around the room. “I will not pay the price of my brother’s failures by aligning myself forever to that … bitter, sickly, aspiring wanton!”
“Good heavens, Richard!” Lord Matlock laughed. “Calm yourself!”
He stopped and pointed at his father’s head. “I am not promised to Anne?”
“No!”
“Damned good thing.” Richard grunted and settled back into the chair.
“I was waiting for that blade of yours to jab me in the gullet! Your Aunt came here to propose that Albert marry Anne, and announce that Anne herself is agreeable.” Richard’s mouth hung open. “Anne wants a title, your aunt wants Rosings to stay in Fitzwilliam hands … Darcy is gone forever …”
“You agreed to this? Bertie is in no condition to consider this proposal!”
“It is his fault that he must consider it at all, and this may very well be the price he pays for his destruction of Matlock. There is no difference between Anne marrying Darcy and Anne marrying Albert, not really, in the end.”
“I am sure that Darcy would have something to say on the subject.” Richard sighed and shook his head. “What of his diseases, his likelihood to die, Anne’s health … I find this extraordinary generosity by Aunt Catherine to be incredible. All this to give Anne the possibility of a title?”
“No, no.” His father wagged his finger, “To make her above Elizabeth.”
“Ahhh, there, the claws come out.” Richard nodded. “How can you swallow that wine with the bile that should be in your throat? How easily you trade Bertie’s life. He is weak, and you want to send him to those two? Let him live with some happiness before his body gives out.”
“Fine, he may marry Anne and then he can remain at Matlock.”
“Oh, and watch me taking over his birthright as I sit waiting for his demise. He would be suspicious of every drink I hand him.”
“I planned to return to Matlock in a fortnight to collect your mother and sister … at that time I will propose the … proposal to your brother.”
“He must be of sound mind or it will not be legal.” Richard reminded him. “I will not see my brother forced to the altar. As much as I despise everything he has done, I want him to be happy at the end. And God-willing, he will fool us all and live another fifty years to be hailed as the great Earl of Matlock who did so much good for his people.”
“How can you not want this?”
“I see that you are thinking of the proposal.” Both men jumped to their feet when they heard Lady Catherine’s voice. She stamped her stick on the floor and brandished it. “I have as well.”
Lord Matlock grabbed the walking stick. “I will take this, thank you.”
“You are afraid of me?” Lady Catherine said with no small amount of satisfaction.
“No, but I have no desire to spend another month watching the mark of your ire fade from my arm.” He tossed the stick onto the floor and sat back down. “Yes, I have thought of your proposal, but it was you who left in a huff. I have told you of his condition, why would you sentence her, condemn her to such a marriage?”
“It would save Matlock, you admit it yourself?”
“Yes it would.” Lord Matlock sighed. “But as Richard points out … if by some miracle Albert regains his faculties, even if his body never recovers, I do not want to order him to marry …”
“You had no such issue with Darcy marrying Anne.”
“No.” He admitted grudgingly. “But that was different.”
“Because you were angry that Darcy kept you at arms length following George’s death!” Lady Catherine lifted her chin triumphantly. “We are not so different!”
“I wanted Darcy to marry Cathy.” He reminded her. “What say we discuss this without Darcy’s name being a part of it?”
“I do not like this; I do not like this at all, deciding a man’s fate when he is not here to speak his mind! Richard declared and stood. “When you and Bertie are dead and buried, I will do my duty. Until then, leave me out of it!”
Lady Catherine stared. “Where did you learn such utter lack of ambition? Neither your father or mother are this way.”
“Lack of ambition? I earned this rank, Aunt; it was not bought for me.” Richard adjusted his sword and walking to the door, waved his hand towards his aunt. “It is my brother’s hubris that has led to his downfall. It is Darcy casting aside his pride that gave him the ability to see Elizabeth. As I said Father, if it is my fate to carry on after you, I will do it to the best of my ability. I cannot help but think that Darcy was fortunate in seeing his father buried so that he was not forced to take on his parents’ desires to join Rosings to Pemberley. I would hate to have to feel relief at the death of a relative of mine.” Looking between brother and sister, he nodded and left.
“Ungrateful man!” Lady Catherine declared.
“No, you have that wrong. He is very grateful.” Lord Matlock said thoughtfully. “He is grateful to not be like us.”
THE SCENT OF ROSES AND LAVENDER suffused the air and Darcy breathed it in. Tenderly, a tongue traced his lips and before he could react, the warm mouth moved across his cheek and he felt that same soft tongue exploring his ear … “Ohhhhhhhh … Lizzy … You make me insane when you do that!”
“Good.” She smiled and kissed his lips, then moved out of reach of his hands. “How are you?”
“Better, I think.” His eyes opened to the engaging sight of Elizabeth bent over him. Darcy brushed her hair back and watched it fall again.
Elizabeth caught his hand. “You rested all of this time?”
“I … I did not sleep all of the time.”
“That is not what I asked.” She laughed and nudging his bottom she sat down beside him. “This is a lovely chaise. We need a few of these scattered around our homes.” Darcy’s eyes were boring into hers. “Don’t you think? They would be most convenient for taking a rest?”
“Definitely.” He said huskily.
“I understand that you enjoyed some billiards?” Groaning, he closed his eyes and tilting his head back, shook it slowly. Laughing softly, she played with the fringe of hair resting over his brow. “How stiff are you?”
A mischievous smile appeared and he claimed her caressing hand and placed it over his groin. “You tell me.”
“Insatiable.” Elizabeth gasped and bending over him lightly they kissed, their lips and tongues lovingly embracing as their hands did the same over their bodies. Darcy pulled her forward and she hesitated, not wanting to hurt him. Never breaking his kiss, he kept tugging until she relaxed and was stretched out beside him, and somehow, they turned so that he was on his side and looking down into her eyes.
“Beautiful.” His palm slid down over her breasts to her hip. “So very beautiful …”
“Will …”
“hmmm.” Darcy was lost in the taste of her throat and moaned when he moved to lick the swell of her breasts.
“The door is open …”
He looked at her with passion-drunk eyes and to the door. “Damn. I will close it.”
“Stay.” Her finger touched his cheek and she drew his face back down for another kiss.
“Lizzy …” He breathed.
“I am sorry. I cannot resist you, either.” She curled into his arms and they lay quietly together. “I realize that this is equally scandalous.”
Darcy rested his chin on her hair and ran his hands up and down her arms. “Not quite. Others have seen you resting in my embrace, love, and have survived the experience.” He kissed her brow. “How was Longbourn?”
She sighed and settled into him. “Mama was busy with the wedding breakfast, she had Lydia and Kitty working and my aunt was there. Jane and I had a nice long talk and I spoke with Mary …” He watched her eyes and she saw that he was waiting. “Papa asked to see me before I left.”
“Ah.”
Her lip caught in her teeth. “I am not sure what he wanted.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that he had convinced himself that I was just away visiting in London and that when I returned, that I was home to stay.” Darcy sighed. “He said that … he probably would have felt that way no matter whom I married or whatever the state of his health.”
Darcy whispered. “Guilt. Subtle, but guilt nonetheless.”
“Do you think so?”
“Dear Elizabeth. Yes.” He caressed the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Guilt for wishing you were still home, guilt for your sudden marriage to me, despite your happiness, guilt for failing and wanting the years back, he feels guilty.”
“I thought you were saying that I was to feel guilty.”
“I am sure that you are, but this time I think that he was … attempting an apology.”
“Could he not just say that he was sorry?” Elizabeth cried and Darcy shook his head. “Why?”
“Because to say that he is sorry for one thing is to admit that most of his adult life he has been a failure. Every man has his pride. I think that this is the best you can expect from him. Do not look for more. Did he say that he loves you?”
“Yes.”
“Then he is finished.”
“Then there is no reason for us to remain after the wedding tomorrow.” She said quietly.
“No, although you may change your mind and want to stay longer. Take as much time as you need, Elizabeth.” Darcy pulled her closer and holding her face in his hands, kissed her. “I love you.”
“Does this mean that you are finished with me, too?” Her voice tried to tease but her eyes were worried.
“How could you think such a thing?”
“I have had twenty years with him, and two months with you. I almost lost you and I … I felt …” She buried her face in his chest and he held her as tightly as he could. “I love you.”
“Does this mean that you are finished with me?” He kissed the nape of her neck and smiled when she looked back up at him. Kissing her wet cheeks, he admired the determined possession in her eyes. “Now you know how I feel.” He looked around the library and back to her. “Shall I go and lock the door now?”
She shook her head with a laugh and kissed him. “Insatiable.”
Chapter 38
Elizabeth kept an eye on Mr. Bennet. The man was walking stiffly, slowly; his chin was up as he was clearly trying to manage this stroll down the aisle with dignity. Elizabeth’s grip on her husband’s hand was tight and she cringed whenever her father seemed to falter and fight back a need to cough. His pallor was frighteningly grey.
Darcy’s attention was on the man at the front of the church. Collins was sweating profusely, even though they were standing within a draughty church as snowflakes swirled outside of the door. His gaze bore into his soon-to-be brother, assessing his fitness to take on Longbourn and its occupants, and found him desperately lacking despite Elizabeth’s report of Mary’s confidence. He knew that one way or another, he and Elizabeth would be roped into providing aid. Then and there, Darcy determined to speak to Longbourn’s steward at the wedding breakfast.
Noticing Bingley discreetly handing Collins a handkerchief interrupted his thoughts and his focussed attention moved to his friend. To be asked to stand up with the reverend was a surprise, but Bingley took it in stride, declaring that he would be his brother soon enough, and with characteristic good humour said that Collins undoubtedly would have asked Darcy to stand with him, but he was too much in awe to do so. Darcy’s lips lifted and as the bride passed he saw that his friend’s eyes rested on Jane, who was now standing at Mary’s side, and was glad to see that for once, Jane’s eyes were not cast down but were directed at Bingley.
“It is about time.” He said softly and squeezing Elizabeth’s hand; turned his head to smile at her and started to find her hand at her mouth. She was watching her father swaying precipitously.
“He is going to fall!” She whispered in horror.
Immediately Darcy looked to her father and saw that he was indeed in trouble. Drawing a fortifying breath, he rose as discreetly as possible and walking forward, wordlessly stood behind and to the left of Mr. Bennet, placing a steadying hand on the man’s shoulder. Mr. Bennet did not acknowledge him, but Darcy felt his weight leaning into his arm and he had to brace himself to take it on. When Mr. Bennet answered the cue to give Mary’s hand over to Reverend Pierson, Darcy stepped back and saw Mr. Bennet to his seat, never looking at him, and then returned to slowly lower himself down beside Elizabeth. Her fingers entwined with his and she squeezed tightly.
