Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (3 page)

“THEY LOOK VERY WELL.”  Lady Matlock said behind her teacup as she pretended to take a sip.  “Do they not?”

Lady Catherine made no pretence of surveying her pale daughter seated beside her even paler nephew on the other end of the drawing room at Matlock House.  “I certainly do not see sparks flying between them, but then I never expected to.”  She cleared her throat.  “Speak up, Nephew!”

“My conversation with my cousin is private, Aunt.”  Gladney said tonelessly.  “Mind your business.”

“Well, I never!”  She cried.

“Sobriety has not changed him.”  Cathy noted.

“Albert!”  Lady Matlock admonished.

Anne smiled.  “That was nice.” 

“Are you being sarcastic?”  Gladney turned back to face her.

“No, I can think of a great many people who never had the courage to address her that way.” 

“It is not courage, merely lack of patience.”

“Fitzwilliam would just suffer in silence.”

“Our cousin is a gentleman.”

“What are you?”

“The farthest thing from it.”  Gladney looked at her and glanced back at their mothers.  “They want us to marry, you should know that I am not in good health.”

“Neither am I.”

“I do not believe that.”  He sniffed and rubbed his nose.  “I believe that your mother has declared that you were poorly all of your life and it gave you an excuse not to do things that you disliked, and it brought you sympathy and attention.  You did not have to attend school, take lessons, make friends . . . which is all fine when you are a girl, but now you are a grown woman who has no accomplishments and no companion other than one who is paid to sit with you.”  Anne protested but he continued.  “And you thought that you had Darcy in the bag, so what was the point of making an effort to be handsome or interesting?”  His head tilted.  “If you are doing it to show up Elizabeth that is frankly the most foolish idea I have ever heard.  You are already above her by birth, why would she be impressed because you have a longer title?”

Anne blushed unbecomingly, “You are one to speak of being foolish!  Look what your behaviour has brought you!”

“Yes, but I certainly enjoyed myself becoming this way.  I never claimed that my behaviour was the best.  And I make no promises that I will not return to my old habits.”

“No, I will not be married to a drunk or abuser of . . . whatever you abused.”  Anne lifted her chin.  “If you are my husband you will have to behave as you are expected.” 

“And what is that?”   His head tilted and he watched her.  “You realize that your mother has been practically proclaiming us married already, do you not?” 

“She did that with Fitzwilliam and nothing came of it except now she likes
her
.”  She muttered.  “I would marry you just to stop Mama from controlling every moment of my life.”

“I will not enter this marriage if it is to be a never ending diatribe against Mrs. Darcy.  Now I
can
appreciate your wish to be out from under your mother’s thumb.”  He stood.  “However, I think that you are still too bitter to consider marriage to anyone yet.” 

“Where are you going!  Sit down!”  She ordered. 

“Did you not just proclaim resentment of your mother demanding things of you?”  He looked to the alarmed women at the opposite end of the room.  “I will put to you the same question that Richard put to me.  What do
you
want?”

“I will tell you what I want.”  Richard entered the room.  “I want someone in this family to do something responsible for a change besides me.”  He surveyed the occupants.  “My General informed me that he knows of the financial crisis Matlock is facing.  He offered me a new position, one that is very likely life-threatening but could lead to promotion and a long military career, if I live.  He has given me two weeks to decide . . .”  He pointed his finger around the room.  “When I return I want to know what you people are doing or I will take his offer and leave Matlock to be inherited by some . . . unknown troll living in the hinterlands of Scotland since my brother is determined to die by one means or another.”  

“Now that was dramatic.”  Gladney noted sedately.

“You.  Come with me.”  Richard crooked his finger at him and went across the hallway. 

Curious, Gladney followed and closed the door behind him.  He watched his brother staring out at the traffic in the square and crossed his arms. “What is it, Richard?”

“Tell me how you felt when you took the laudanum.”

Surprised, he snorted and wiped his nose. “Are you planning to start?”

“Answer me!”

“Very well.”  He sat down and crossed his legs.  “Bloody fantastic, like I could . . . do anything.  Euphoric.”

“Did you have delusions?”

“Lord, yes.”  He laughed.  “Indescribable and . . . unfortunately, rarely memorable.”

“What do you mean, that they weren’t worth remembering or that you were not capable of doing so?”

“Not capable.”  His brow creased and he uncrossed his legs, “Who are we talking about, Richard?”

“Did it ever give you violent tendencies?” 

“I believe so.”  Gladney said softly and Richard turned to face him.  “I told you that I retain impressions of doing things..”

“And when you were withdrawing . . . what was that like?” 

“A nightmare, but I only really did that once.”  He smiled a little.  “And awoke to Pritchard’s Preachings thrumming in my ear.  Now I can anticipate Anne’s whining instead. It almost drives a man to sniff opium.” 

Ignoring his remark Richard jumped in again.  “I have heard that withdrawing makes one suicidal and depressed?”

“You know that already, I told you that, too.” 

“Are you still?”

“Yes.”   The brothers looked at each other until at last Gladney spoke seriously.  “What is this about, Richard?”

“Did you ever feel envy so strong that you would kill for it?” 

Gladney stared at the ceiling.  “Perhaps.”  He looked back to Richard.  “You have killed.  Have you ever felt the weight of taking a life so heavily that you wished to blot it out with . . . outrageous behaviour?  I know that you do not use my method, but you are fond of your port . . . and your women.”  Richard’s eyes widened and Gladney nodded.  “All of us have our methods.”

“What does Darcy do?” 

“He broods and rubs his chest, just like Uncle George did.”  He tilted his head.  “Haven’t you noticed?” 

“No.  Why did you?” 

“I am not sure. Funny the things that you remember and dwell upon.  I think that his wife will help with that habit of his.” 

“And what of you and Anne?”

“I will let you know when you return.”

“What if I do not return?”

Gladney laughed.  “Where are you going?”

“Pemberley.”

“Ah.  Dangerous ground, that.”  He smiled and it fell.  “What is wrong?”  Richard shook his head.  “Very well, then . . . I am going to demand an interview alone with Anne . . . if it goes well . . .”

“Why would you marry her?”

“Because I think that it would be great fun to . . . see what lies beneath her layers of bitterness.” 

“What if it’s only more bitterness?”

Gladney shrugged.  “My loss.  Matlock’s gain.  There, I have done my part as you demanded.  Are you satisfied?”

“No.”  He sighed.

“I have decided that I will not return to Matlock, Richard.  Does that help with your decision?”

“It might.”  He smiled a little.  “I am sorry to interrupt your courtship.”  Gladney rolled his eyes.  “Or whatever that is in there.”

“I hope that when you find your lady that it is equally enjoyable.” 

“Now that was a curse.”  Richard smiled and held out his hand.  “Take care, Brother.”

“And you.”  Gladney watched him open the door and speed off down the hallway.  “Good luck.”

DARCY LAY DOWN on his stomach and hugged a pillow, listening to the sounds of the busy inn while Elizabeth prepared for the night.  Rising from the tavern he could hear the sounds of a drinking song performed by appropriately inebriated men.  Down the hallway he heard the sound of a giggling woman and running feet, and closed his eyes when a door shut and a lock was turned.  Soon enough the bed in the next room began creaking steadily, accompanied by shrieks and moans. He took Elizabeth’s pillow and clasped it over his ears.  “Never again will we stop here.  Lord, I want to go home.  I want my quiet home.”

“One more night, dear.”  He felt the mattress move as Elizabeth lay down beside him.  She snuggled against his side and lifted the pillow from his head to peek at him.  One blue eye opened.  “Despite your attempts to hide, I know that you are here.”    

“And we know every other person who is here, too.  It was not as busy when I came searching for Georgiana.” 

“When was that?”

“I do not know, it is all a blur now.”  Removing the pillow still covering his head, he settled his cheek comfortably and looked at her nose to nose.  “I hate Gretna Green.” 

She caressed his  brow.  “What if we had married here?”

“That is different.  In that case there would be a shrine built in your honour and a permanent rainbow would arch over the blacksmith’s shop where we were wed.”  He smiled a little when she laughed, and gathered her closer to him.  “I am sorry dear.  I am in a bear of a mood.  That maid at dinner offering Georgiana tea to settle her stomach did not help.”

“She meant well and we were in a private area.”

“That is not the point; she knew that Georgiana was pregnant.”

“Georgiana ran to the washroom four times during our meal.  Besides, we are in Scotland now, and in a day and a half we will be . . . wherever it is that we are going.”  His lips lifted a little and she smiled.  “Do I sound too much like Jane?”

“I do not know her well enough to say.”  Darcy held her eyes.  “I thought that we were supposed to feel better once we were underway.”

“I did not say that, your aunt did.”  Darcy did not respond and she hugged him, entwining her leg with his.  “What else is wrong?  You have been lost in thought all day.”

Darcy curled around her and rested his head over her heart.  “I am sorry, I was dwelling on Wickham.  I guess that coming to Gretna Green was behind it.  I started thinking of uncle’s surprise with my refusal to pay for his silence.  I was wondering if it matters when we can be discovered purely by chance at an inn like last night with Manning, or tonight with a maid blurting out comments about Georgiana’s apparently obvious condition.” 

“Of course it matters, and I am proud of you for saying no.” 

“Will you be proud if he takes an advertisement in the papers announcing the truth?”  He sighed and nuzzled her breast.  “No, I am not second guessing myself, I just had too much time to think, and . . .  I feel terrible.  I was so caught up with thoughts of Wickham and preparing to be gone for so long that when Uncle was clearly trying to tell me something important, I just said something placating and waved him off.”

“What was it about?”

“He was apologizing for things he has done, pain he had inflicted upon the family, and I just said that I understood and . . .”  He closed his eyes for a moment.  “I am sure that I gave the impression that I did not want to hear him.   And that is not so.  I have improved, love, but I still have not mastered the art of communication.”   

“Maybe you had an idea of where his thoughts were going and you were simply unwilling to hear them at that moment.  Aunt Susan said that she pushed him away when he wanted to talk . . .”

“Wonderful, so I have pushed him away . . .”

“I am sure that he is aware of all you have on your plate.  When you write to him of our safe arrival, tell him what you just told me and that you are now free to hear him out, or that you will be able to make time for any conversations he wants to have when they come to visit.”

“That is an excellent idea.  Thank you.”  Darcy kissed the soft pillow of her breast.  Through the wall they heard the neighbour’s bed creak.. 

Elizabeth laughed when Darcy moaned.  “Keep making sounds like that and our neighbours will think that we are similarly occupied.”

“You know full well the sort of moans loving you inspires in me, and they are nothing remotely like
that
.”  Lifting his head he smiled into her eyes and gently caressed her hair.  Leaning in, his gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth.  He could almost hear her heartbeat increasing as her lips parted.  Gently he nibbled her lips and hearing a sigh, moved his mouth slowly side to side.  “I love kissing you . . .”  Darcy whispered and cradling her face in his hands kissed her again.  With slow, gentle strokes, their mouths met lightly and softly, gradually pressing closer together, until their tongues touched at last.  Exploring each other’s mouths, they moaned together. 

Elizabeth’s foot slid beneath his nightshirt, raising it up so her leg could wrap around his thigh while her hands caressed through his hair and over his shoulders.  Darcy’s hand moved from her face and slid down to fondle her breast.  “Lizzy . . .” He whispered and kissed along her throat, while his busy fingers untied the ribbons at the top of her gown, spreading the fabric open and drawing it down.  “Sweet Lizzy . . .”  Darcy kissed and nibbled over her bared shoulders, and then sat up.  Kneeling before her, he pulled off his nightshirt and smiled at the tumbled beauty lying before him. 

He drew his fingers through her hair and traced her parted lips.  Her tongue touched the tip of his finger and his eyes widened when she took possession of his hand and proceeded to suckle him.  “ohhhhh.”  Without fail, the picture of her ruby lips tasting any part of him was intoxicating, and he responded by pressing his palm down her stomach and into the nest of dark curls that bloomed between her legs. 

Elizabeth’s eyes closed when he slipped one long finger inside of her, she moaned when he added another, and began to writhe as his thumb rubbed over her nub.  “Relax, darling.”  He urged.  “Relax my Elizabeth Rose.”  Darcy concentrated on her face, and could hear her breathing hitch.  Elizabeth had no idea when he moved or when his fingers were replaced by his tongue.  All she knew was that the lightest most exquisite feather was softly tickling her thighs and the sensations were building, going faster and faster as tingles spread over her body until she was clutching the quilt, holding on, not wanting it to ever end until suddenly. something deep inside of her burst and the warm flow of relief spread throughout her body, leaving her hot, breathless, and sticky.