Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (6 page)

“Yes.  I did.” 

Richard walked to the other end of the room.  “A groom from Pemberley House once spotted a tall man who resembled Darcy speaking to Christmas in Cheapside.”  Judge Darcy’s face paled and Richard used every ounce of his strength not to draw his blade.  “Wickham in his ranting made two comments that struck me to the bone and frankly, are the reasons I am here.  Shall I repeat them or shall you simply tell me?”

“You said that you do not want excuses or details.  I am afraid that this confession is full of one and sadly lacking in the other.”

“So you were behind Christmas being in Darcy House.”

“Yes, I hired him to search for Wickham and to listen in on the servants to see if there was any speculation about Georgiana’s whereabouts.” 

“While deceitful, I do not see anything criminal in that act.”  Richard folded his arms to keep his hands busy.  “Spill it judge, I have no desire to dance with you.”

“He found him . . . not long after Fitzwilliam married Elizabeth.  I . . . I was quite out of control, I hardly know what I was doing, I just remember . . . No I do not remember.  I kept Wickham in a prison of sorts.  I wanted to kill him.  I . . . I was furious, by then we knew that Georgiana was pregnant and I was extremely unhappy that Fitzwilliam married Elizabeth. I was furious that he planned to pass off Wickham’s child as his own, and . . . the thought of his blood possibly inheriting Pemberley threw me over the edge of sanity for a time.   And Carson was dosing me with the laudanum by his own precription; I was insane then withdrawing, over and over . . .”

“What did you do, Judge Darcy?”  Richard said in a cold tight voice.   “Are you the reason why Wickham and Christmas were in that cabin?”

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

He stood straight with his hands to his sides.  “I believe that I ordered them to kill Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth.”

“
YOU BELIEVE!
” Richard roared. 

“It happened when I was so ill, I must have told them and then . . . I was told that I was confined to my bed for weeks.  When I woke I went straight to the place where I had Wickham and they were gone . . . I rushed here and . . . well, you know what happened.”  He stared down at his hands and was completely taken by surprise when Richard’s fist drove into his stomach.  He collapsed to the floor and Richard stood over him with his chest heaving, attempting to regain control. 

“And why was Georgiana to live?”  He said through gritted teeth.  “Let me guess, to have her married to Samuel, and making him the Master of Pemberley.  What was to happen to Wickham’s child?  It would have been legitimate then.  Would you kill it, too?”

“I do not know.”  Gasping, he sat up and leaned against his desk. 

“You disgust me.”  He paced to the opposite end of the room and stared back at him.  “You were a judge, respected, admired, famous for your decisions.  What sentence do you suppose would be appropriate for a bastard like you?  Swing by the neck until dead?  Perhaps a turn at Bedlam, you could put on a show for the tourists.” 

“I will confess to Fitzwilliam.”

“No you bloody well will not!”  Richard strode back across the room and knelt before him and stuck his finger in his face.  “If you dare speak another word of this to anyone, ANYONE, I will kill you.  The only reason you do not have my sword in your gullet right now is because I love my brother and I know what he is suffering, and I know what my family is suffering because of him.  Darcy is suffering deeply, but I believe in my heart that Wickham would have harmed him again somehow, and that Georgiana was ripe for him or some other cad, even without your aid.  To tell him that the one man he could count on nearly took his life . . . I will not allow it.  I will not see this family torn apart because of your madness.” 

Judge Darcy swallowed and nodded.  “Very well.  A confession would serve only myself.”  

“Do not for a moment believe that you are free from reproach because you are not bleeding out over this fine carpet right now.  I promise you, I will serve as your personal judge and jury for the remainder of your days.” 

“I told you that I mean to dedicate those days to my family.”

“If you had any other plan in mind I would have set you straight.”  Richard stood when there was a cautious knock on the door. 

“Harding, the post has come, would you like it?” Susan asked, and both men heard the trepidation in her voice. 

Judge Darcy struggled to his feet and swearing under his breath, Richard pulled him up roughly and sent him to the chair behind his desk.  Then retreating to a neutral corner, he nodded.

“Come in, dear.”  He said in a slightly strangled voice and cleared his throat. 

“Is everything well?”  Susan looked between them worriedly.

“Of course, I was complaining of my dear family.”  Richard smiled.  “After all, it was hearing of their antics that drove me north.” 

“I know that they can be a trial at times, but you should be glad for the family you have.”  Visibly relieved she smiled, and placing the letters on the desk, she went to hug him.  “You are just another of my boys Richard.  If you need to escape your family every so often, you are always welcome to visit ours.”  She patted his cheek.  “I know how much Harding cares for you.  Just as he does Fitzwilliam.”  The two men’s eyes met and Richard looked back down to Susan. 

“May I call you Aunt now?” 

“I do not know why you haven’t already.”  She smiled at him.  “Now, Samuel will be home before long and then I hope to have a pleasant evening listening to the three of you carry on.”  She hugged him again and smiling at her husband, closed the door as she left. 

“Dear Susan.” 

“And that is but one who you would destroy with a confession.”  Richard looked around the room, and poured out a large glass of port. 

Judge Darcy absently picked up the letters and opened the first.  “Good Lord.”  Richard turned and he held it up.  “Wickham.” 

Incredulous, Richard crossed the room.  “He wasted no time.  He said something of writing to you when he was rejected by Darcy.   What is it, blackmail?”

“No.”  Judge Darcy’s brow creased and he held it out to Richard.  “But it answers many of the blanks in my memory.”

3 March 1812

Judge Darcy,

You probably know that I wrote to Darcy asking for money and threatening to expose Georgiana if he did not pay, and by the tone of his response, he knew that I was bluffing.  He is correct, of course.  I never would have hurt Georgiana that way.  You once stood before me in your private prison and sneered that I cared for her.  But I did.  I do.  I just thought that Darcy has always been so easy, why not try once more?  It was stupid.  If nothing else, the time in that basement made me see how good I had it with the Darcys and how I wasted every opportunity I was given.  But regret does not put food in my belly.  I could threaten to expose you, but who is going to believe me?  Nobody.  So I will put this to you, I ask you to buy me a decent commission in the militia, NOT the army, I do not want to go to war, but a career in the militia would be fine.  Buy me that, and I will leave you and Darcy alone for good. 

Call it payment for services rendered.  When you came to the basement that day and ordered us to go to Pemberley and kill Darcy, I knew you were sick.  You had a seizure right in front of me and when you were through, I knew that you did not remember a thing of what you ordered, just that we should wait until Twelfth Night before leaving.  It was Christmas who decided that we would go early, not me.  That carrot you dangled in front of him was too rich, and he was too good with that knife of his for me to try and get away. 

I knew that you had tried to stop us when I heard that you were at Pemberley the day of the crash.  Did you know that I wrote to Darcy trying to warn him?  I did not want to kill him.  I even untied my end of the rope when the carriage was coming down the drive so the horses would not trip.  It was Christmas yelling at me when I took off running that spooked them.  In any case, it is not my fault that they crashed.  I did my part to stop everything.  I think that is worth the cost of a commission, and maybe a little pocket money to start with.  Do that and I swear I am gone forever.  I know that Georgiana is where she belongs and that Darcy will find a home for the baby. 

Just send the commission papers to the same address as before.  If the colonel was going to kill me, it would have happened by now.

Wickham

“Amazing.”  

“I have no clear memory of what he says there.”  Judge Darcy murmured.  “Twelfth Night . . .  Yes . . . that was when I woke . . .”

“Well, this reduces slightly my desire to hang you by your testicles.”  Richard murmured as he read the letter again.  Judge Darcy closed his eyes and blew out his cheeks.  “You realize that while professing his love he still asks for something for nothing.  Payment for services rendered!  He has a lot of brass!”

“So in essentials he is unchanged?” 

“A leopard cannot change his spots.  Something like that.”  Richard looked up, and tossed the letter on the desk.  “Well, a militia commission.  That sounds like a bargain for his permanent silence.  You provide the funds and I’ll find him the most miserable post imaginable.” 

Judge Darcy rubbed his stomach and looked up to find the colonel with a satisfied smile on his face.  “Pocket money?”

“No.”  He took out his snuff box and studying the woman’s leg, held it up.  “The only thing that he should find in his pocket is the incurable boneache. 
That
would be justice.”   

“THE YEARS HAVE TREATED you well, Mr. Parker.”  Mrs. Shaw, the housekeeper of Sommerwald, said with a smile.  “More tea?”

“I can pour for myself, thank you.”  Parker’s normally impassive face bore a tinge of pink and glancing at Judy he saw her brows raised and amusement in her eyes.  Judy and Jennifer exchanged smiles and returned to their porridge.  “The . . . house looks just as fine as ever.”

“Oh, thank you!  Mr. Darcy is very liberal with the funds so we are able to keep it up nicely.  My, how the master has changed since we last saw him.  Don’t you think, Mrs. Duncan?”  Mrs. Shaw looked over her shoulder at the cook.

“He’s a man now, that’s the difference.  When last he was here he was still a gangly carefree boy.  His Papa wasn’t gone yet.”

“He was hardly a boy, but he was quite a handsome young man.  How soon after you left did his father die?”  Mrs. Shaw asked Parker.

“We left here and returned to Pemberley, and then about six months after that Mr. Darcy died in London.  It was a terrible time.” 

“That must be when that crease in Mr. Darcy’s brow appeared.”  Mrs. Shaw held out a basket.  “Bun, Mr. Parker?”

“No, thank you.” 

“I will have one.”  Judy smiled and receiving a glare, the basket was put back down on the table.  Judy reached and taking one, split it open.  “These are wonderful Mrs. Duncan.  Mrs. Darcy adores baked goods, it is her greatest weakness, and she loves shortbread.  She is quite likely to appear in the kitchen and watch you cook, so do not be surprised or disconcerted when she does.” 

“The mistress comes to the kitchen!”  The cook and housekeeper stared.  “That is not her place!  No gentlewoman comes near the smells of the kitchen!  What sort of woman did the master marry?”

“An excellent woman.”  Parker said with finality and put down his knife and fork.  “I hope that you quickly appreciate that.  I expect that you will be sending your letters to her attention from now on.  I will not tolerate any talk about her
or
Miss Cargill for that matter.”

“
Miss
Cargill.”  Mrs. Shaw sniffed.  “Five years the master is away and why does he come back?  To bring a ruined girl with him.”

“She made a terrible mistake and the Darcys are trying to save her life.  I hope that you can appreciate the effort and help them, and keep your judging to yourself.  She is quite aware of what she has done.”  Judy said pointedly to the frowning woman.

“Nobody likes the situation, but they are doing their best for her.”  Parker added in support of Judy and Mrs. Shaw softened when she heard him.

“I suppose Mr. Darcy will be doing something with the baby so she can return home?  Her family will take her back?”  Mrs. Duncan asked and sat down at the table to eat with them.  “Poor girl looked exhausted when they arrived.”

“She was.”  Jennifer nodded.  “It was a very hard trip for her, and I know that she will be glad to do some sleeping.”

“She is a cousin?”  Mrs. Shaw asked.  “Cargill is the name of the woman this estate was built for.  Her portrait hangs in the library.”

“Yes, we know.”  Parker looked between them.  “We will have to identify a midwife and alert her as to the expected arrival of the child, however, for obvious reasons; Mr. Darcy does not want talk of Miss Cargill or her condition to be spread about the neighbourhood.  He expects absolute discretion on the part of his staff.”

“Of course, what do you take me for!”  Mrs. Shaw snapped.

“I will be serving as butler as well as valet for our stay; however I have no desire to step on your toes, Mrs. Shaw.  This is your household to run.”  His words soothed her ruffled feathers and he looked at Judy and Jennifer.  “You will help out wherever needed.  I know that Mrs. Darcy does not want to bring on any more staff than necessary.”

Mrs. Duncan sized up the two ladies’ maids.  “We have Amy who helps out in the kitchen; she can do the fires and hard cleaning just fine.” 

Mrs. Shaw nodded, “We send the laundry out when the house staff is not at its full complement.” 

“Fine.  Jennifer is more of a companion to Miss Cargill so she will be busy with her, but Judy and I can look after any dusting and polishing that is needed.”  He smiled to himself when he heard her sigh.  “We just will not let anyone at Pemberley or Darcy House know about it.”  Turning back to Mrs. Shaw, his businesslike demeanour returned.  “That should be enough.  The Darcys do not intend to entertain.”  Mrs. Shaw laughed.  “Is something amusing?”