Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (113 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
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“We all are; we just have different occupations.”  Darcy smiled.  “The ones that our fathers gave us.”

Nodding, he spoke quietly, “Yesterday, watching you ride off . . .  I saw a group of gentlemen.  I was struck that I did not belong with you any longer.”

Darcy leaned towards him, “You
are
a gentleman, Samuel.  You went to Cambridge; you had your levee . . .”

“But I am no longer pursuing a career as a barrister.  In another three and a half years, I will be a country solicitor.  That will strip away my status as gentry and my wife, whoever she may be, will never be permitted to curtsy before the queen.” 

“So?”  Darcy smiled at the stare he received.  “Who were you hoping to marry?  I thought that you wanted a woman to love, not one to perch on your arm and dance with at St. James’s.  When you come to London, you still have your father’s townhouse, unless he chooses to end the lease, or you are always welcome at our home and will receive our sponsorship to whatever event you choose to attend.  You have full access to Pemberley . . . really, you will have all of the benefits of being gentry without having to
be
gentry.” 

“The poor relation.”  He murmured.

The bad humour that came with the hangover flared and Darcy raised his voice.  “Do you regret your decision to take on Mayfield’s practice?  Have a few nights in your room at the inn all alone brought on second thoughts?  You wanted this!  You seemed quite grateful for the opportunity when I proposed it to you.  Are you telling me now that I have made a poor investment in you?”

His eyes widened.  “No . . . no.  I do appreciate your kindness, William!” 

“Then why do you thumb your nose at it?  If you want to be a gentleman, then I suggest that you mount your horse, turn in your notice to Mayfield, and do not stop riding until you reach London and beg Easterly to take you back!  Maybe,
maybe
he will remember the industrious young man he took on before, and maybe he can help you to find a room at Lincoln Inn again and guide you to the bar.  Fine, you will become a barrister.  Then what would you do?  You would be following in your father’s footsteps.  Is that what you want?  I was under the impression that you hated court?  And that you have no desire to repeat your father’s path of following the circuit judge?  That you wanted to settle in the clean atmosphere of the country and serve the people of the surrounding villages, love a good woman and start a family, and be home for them every night?  You give this up if you settle for the life of a barrister.  You know it, I know it.  All for the sake of calling yourself a gentleman?”  Disgusted, Darcy sat back and drummed his fingers on the desk in perfect time with his throbbing headache.  “Do you know yourself?” 

“Apparently not.”  Stung by the vehemence of his cousin’s speech he stood up and walked away from the powerful glare that was burning into him.  “I am a Darcy.  We are . . . intensely proud of our ancestors.”

“Agreed.  Do you feel that you are somehow disregarding your origins by taking a different path to essentially the same career?  That you are bringing shame upon the family?”

“Am I any different from Georgiana?”  He bit out and could see Darcy gripping the arms of his chair in the reflection of the window as his face reddened with fury.  “I am sorry; I spoke without thought.”

“Explain yourself, sir.”  Darcy hissed.  “Face me and explain yourself.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment and then turned.  Darcy was up on his feet and had arrived startlingly fast to stand beside him.  “I love Georgiana. I appreciate how she is changing and the sincerity of her regret, but there is no question that everyone who knows the truth must live with the consequences of her actions and at the least, bear permanently altered opinions of her. Thus far, you have managed miraculously to hide her shame.” 

Breathing in deeply through his nose Darcy nodded.  Protection remained in his eyes, but Samuel had not said anything remotely incorrect, “And how does my sister’s ruin and recovery relate to your decision to become a country solicitor?” 

“What I am doing cannot be hidden.  I . . . I am . . . Am I harming the family by . . . indulging my selfish desires to . . . Lord, I cannot even find the words for what I am doing or why.” Frustrated, he walked away to the window and stared out at the landscape teeming with workers preparing for the ball.  “Do you know of any member of this family who has walked away from our status before?  None!  Every younger son has upheld his place, becoming an officer in the Navy or Army, becoming clergy or entering the law . . . something, anything, to hang on to the hard won credentials of being a Darcy.  And who am I to . . .” He hung his head. 

The elixir beginning to ease his headache, Darcy felt some of his fury fade.  “Do you know, Samuel, this is the first time I have ever heard you speak of being proud of our name?”  Surprised, Samuel turned and watched Darcy returning to his desk.  “You have spoken of your love for the estate, but that was separate from pride in who we are, and what we stand for.  I believe that the improving relationship with your father has something to do with that.”

“My father?”  Samuel stared. 

 “What I think you are struggling with is
not
becoming a country solicitor, but the motivation behind it.  You tried to hide your love of Pemberley as a punishment for your father for his incomprehensible behaviour towards you and your mother, and yet, you follow him into law.  To please him, I imagine?”  Samuel nodded, “And yet you refuse outright to let him direct you to become a barrister and eventually a judge like himself, instead returning to your roots here.”  He waved out at the Derbyshire landscape.  “You were both rebelling against your father while trying to respect your origins.”

“When Georgiana was found . . . I believe that Father wished to protect her to save the Darcy name.  I wished to protect her to save
her
.”

“And if that was happening now?  If she were recovered today?”

“I would wish to protect them equally.”

“Would you be willing to marry her now, as your father demanded?” 

“To protect the family?”  He puffed out his cheeks and shook his head.  “I do not know.  If the man I call my father now was making the request . . .”  He met Darcy’s eyes.  “I do not know.” 

“You have changed a great deal.  You are not thinking only of yourself.”

“It seems to me that is all I am doing.  I am whining about not being a gentleman anymore.”  Samuel sat down. 

“I think that you are more concerned about hurting the family by not being considered a gentleman than you are about personally not being a gentleman in society’s eyes.”  Darcy raised his brows.  “Let me tell you how I have changed in this past year of hell.  If my sister marries, if she finds a man to sincerely accept all of her indiscretions and love her, I will consider him to be a true gentleman.  No matter who he is or what he does.”  Samuel raised his chin and nodded while Darcy continued.  “My dear wife’s definition of a gentleman has nothing to do with how a man is born, but rather how he behaves.  I believe, Samuel, that she will swear before God and King that you have always been the exemplary model of a gentleman.  Whose opinion matters more to you?  A woman who I know you,” he closed his eyes and rubbed at his ring, “admire and respect,” His eyes opened, “or the bodies of the dead buried around All Saints? Or the wagging tongues of the fools at St. James’s?”

“You
have
changed.”

“Let us say that my pride has taken a beating and my opinions have been properly humbled.”  Darcy looked down at the ring and brushed his finger over the initials engraved upon it.  

The two men sat in silence together for quite some time.  “I apologize, William.  You have been so generous to me.  If I had any sense, I would have realized that all the answers to my doubts were already given when you spoke to Mr. Mayfield last summer about me.”

“The thought of your status was not on my mind, then, Samuel.  Only your happiness.”  Darcy looked up and shrugged.  “Georgiana was missing and I . . . I needed to do something . . . good.”  His fingers went back to his ring.  “So.  Are you at ease now?”

“Yes.”  Samuel nodded.  “Forgive me for wasting your time today.  I will just take myself off to Lambton and be grateful that you were willing to help me . . .”

“Quiet.”  Darcy murmured and sitting back in his chair, picked up a quill and twirled it as he thought.  “Is there a slow season for Mayfield?”

“I . . . do not know.”  He rested his arms on Darcy’s desk.  “Why?”

“Sommerwald lies empty.  I would prefer that the house live.  Why not, when you have the time, go and live there?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Go on.  You know the property, go and live on your own.  Take a month or however long you can.  Become comfortable in your own skin.  I did that and I am grateful for it.  I lived there alone after leaving my friends on our tour.”

“Manning and Fox . . .” 

“And Winslow.”  Darcy nodded.  “I miss my father terribly, but his death forced maturity upon me, maturity that was born on that estate.  You have never lived in a quiet house where your time is entirely your own.  Go on then, make Sommerwald your retreat, and in . . . what is it, three, four years, when you are in truth the owner of the practice, you will be confident in yourself when Mr. Mayfield hands over the keys.” 

Samuel stared.  “I do not know what to say.  You trust me to spend any time at all there as the man in charge?  I have no experience . . .”

“I was exactly your age when I inherited Pemberley.”

“You were raised for it.”

“Bingley just bought an estate yesterday.  Is he prepared at all?”  Darcy raised his brows and nodded. “I am not suggesting that you run Sommerwald, Ferguson is the man in charge.  Behave as a tenant, no different from Bingley at Netherfield.  A gentleman on holiday.  Maybe you will find a nice girl there.  Too bad Sophie has no sisters.”  He smiled.

Overwhelmed, Samuel shook his head and stared down at his boots.  “You are anxious to see me married.”

“No, I want you to be happy.  But I will not be sorry to see you take your vows with a woman you adore.”  There came a knock at the door.  “Come.”  It opened and Elizabeth entered.  Both men stood and she walked in slowly, taking in her husband from head to toe, and then the tray before him.  “I drank down the vile concoction, dear.” 

“Good.”   She read her husband’s worried eyes and held them tenderly before she turned to Samuel and smiled.  “Good morning!”

“Good morning, Elizabeth.”  His smile grew when she kissed his cheek.  “You look especially lovely today.”

“As you are especially handsome.”  She winked when she heard Darcy’s cough and shifting feet behind her.  “Are you staying?  We are having dancing lessons in a few hours to prepare for the ball. 
All
of the gentlemen will participate.”  She turned to Darcy when he groaned.  “I arranged for a master to come from Lambton.  It would not do for the host and hostess to be embarrassed before their guests, would it?”  Darcy’s cheeks coloured and Samuel valiantly held back a snort.  Elizabeth turned back to him.  “The remaining guests arrive sometime today as well?”

“I will meet them soon enough.”  Picking up his hat, he smiled at Darcy.  “I will just leave you two alone.  And . . . you have given me food for thought.  I appreciate it, William.  I thank you for your generosity and your brotherly affection.  It never ceases to amaze me.”  He held out his hand and shook Darcy’s before smiling at Elizabeth.  “Be kind to the gentleman.”

“Whatever do you mean?”  She raised her brow and squeezing his arm, watched him close the door as he left.  Turning, she watched Darcy walk out from behind his desk.  “You reassured him?  Whatever was troubling him?”  He nodded.  “I am glad.”  Darcy came to a stop before her, and waited.  “You left this morning without saying a word.”

“You were asleep and I know how you need your rest . . .”

“Nonsense.  I was awake and waiting for you to say something.  Instead you slunk away.  When have you ever slunk away?  It is not the man I know.”  She crossed her hands over her waist. Darcy’s gaze went to the slightly rounded place on her belly and returned to her face.  “What did you fear?”

Darcy took her hands and held them as he tried to read her red-rimmed eyes.  “I embarrassed you last night.  I smelled of ale and lake this morning . . . I was disgusted with myself and did not want to face your fury.”

“If I felt fury, I would have expressed it last night when it was fresh, and I would not have slept beside you, no matter how you smelled.  You know that full well.”

“But you were embarrassed.”

She looked around the warm safe confines of his study and thought about the evening before.  “Yes, but . . . in the end, everything you said and did simply told everyone that you love me.”  Darcy visibly relaxed and she found his eyes again, “Would you rather have me rail at you?  How often do you truly become so inebriated?  Without your cousin’s help?”

Darcy straightened and nodded vigorously.  “There, you see?  I blame him, too!” 

“And you were celebrating, rightfully, Charles’s triumph.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with that.”  He looked down to their entwined fingers.  “Everyone was amazed with you, Will.  You were so open and easy, your wonderful sense of humour intact, the side of you that I see every day but you can only rarely show to others.  I think that your display underscored a point that would be hard to make with so many of them otherwise.”

“What do you mean?”  He asked softly. 

“Anne, Cathy, Caroline . . . all of your relatives have an image of you that was created as much to protect yourself through all of your troubles as it was to live up to your position.  Would they want this playful man who they saw last night?”

Darcy considered the women and smiled.  “
You
do not think so.”

“I think that they are jealous of our displays of love, but they are too conscious of their class to be easy in theirs.”

He opened his arms and drew her to his chest.  “You are not angry with me?  For kissing you and holding you . . . I am sure that nobody heard what I said . . .”

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