Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (82 page)

Mary blushed.  “Thank you, Mama.  I have already had more than Lizzy.” 

“She had a ball.”  Kitty pointed out. 

“That was because I asked Mr. Bingley for it.”  Lydia shook her head and looked at Mary.  “Are you certain that you want to marry Mr. Collins?  I mean, do you not feel like a big wet rag has been removed from your shoulders with him gone?”

“A wet rag?”  Mary cried.  “He is not so bad!”

“He perspires constantly.  He looks clammy.”

“And pasty.”  Kitty added.  “Perhaps he is ill.”

“Ohh, then maybe he will die quickly and you will not have to put up with him for long!”  Lydia giggled.

“Mama!”   Mary cried. “They are wishing Mr. Collins ill health!”

“We are not; we are only wishing you good fortune.”  Lydia flounced onto a chair.  “I would think that you would be grateful to be rid of him quickly.” 

“Lydia, to listen to you, you would think that you were a murderer.”  Mr. Bennet looked over the top of his glasses.  “What have you been reading?”

“Reading?”  She snorted.  “Oh, what a joke, Papa!”

“Indeed.”  He sighed and coughed, finally rising to leave the room with a handkerchief pressed to his mouth.  Mr. Gardiner exchanged looks with his wife and followed him. 

“Are you well, Papa?”  Kitty called worriedly.

“He is just fine, looking for attention as usual.  Now you two, stop berating your sister.  She will be married in less than a month; we have so much to plan!  I wish that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy could come!  Would that not be lovely?”

“Do you miss Lizzy, Mama?”  Jane asked quietly.

“Oh . . . no, not particularly, but it would be a chance to show her husband off!  And it might bring his friend Mr. Bingley home to Netherfield so much sooner!”

“He said he would come after Twelfth Night, did he not, Jane?”  Lydia demanded.

“Yes, but I would not be surprised if the family will be staying in Town indefinitely.”  She looked down at her needlework.  “There is a great deal more to entertain them there than at Netherfield this time of year.”

“Nonsense!  That is his sister talking, Mr. Bingley knows that you are waiting for him, dear Jane, and he will be back as promised.”  Mrs. Bennet patted her cheek.

Mary spoke up.  “I would think that the quiet pleasures of the family home would be far more attractive than the noise and rush of London.  Contemplation is ever so much more interesting.”  The women stared at her.

“For the life of me Mary, if I had not given birth to you, I could not imagine you being my child.”  Mrs. Bennet shook her head as Mary blushed.

“All of my children are unique, just as all of you are.”  Mrs. Gardiner smiled around at the girls. 

Jane bit her lip and said softly, “Would you mind a trip to London to purchase some of your wedding clothes, Mary?  That would be a special way to mark your union.”

“Oh.”  Her eyes lit up and she looked to her mother. 

Mrs. Gardiner exchanged glances with Mrs. Bennet and smiled, “Well if she does, I will be happy to bring her back to London when we return home.  There are wonderful warehouses in Cheapside, and Jane, as the eldest sister, you should accompany us.”  Jane nodded while Kitty and Lydia petitioned loudly to come along, and Mrs. Gardiner turned back to Mary.  “Now, let us plan you a party.  I would like to celebrate with your neighbours.”  They could hear coughing from further down the hallway and Mrs. Gardiner quickly distracted them by making suggestions for Mary.

“Darcy said that he saved Lizzy.”  Mr. Gardiner said softly as he put the stopper back onto the carafe of port on Mr. Bennet’s desk and handed him a glass when the coughing stopped. 

“Saved her?”  Mr. Bennet closed his eyes and drew in as deep a breath as he could. 

“It was a slip of the tongue, one he clearly regretted making, but at the same time, he seemed relieved to speak of it.  He is a remarkable young man.”  Mr. Gardiner found a seat and taking a sip of wine, set down the glass.  “Shall I relate to you our conversation?”

“Can I stop you?”  Mr. Bennet opened one eye. 

“No.”  Mr. Gardiner smiled and was glad to see his brother do the same.  “It was the evening that we came for dinner.  Mr. Bingley had departed and Lizzy was receiving some advice from her aunt.”  The men’s eyes met and Mr. Gardiner heard the sigh of a father.  “So Mr. Darcy and I were sequestered alone for some time.  I confessed to some trepidation over coming for dinner and launched into what had the potential to be quite a grand display of grovelling.”  Mr. Bennet chuckled.  “I discovered that Mr. Darcy has no patience for such things, calling my praise unnecessary and undeserved, and gave all credit to his benevolence and attitude adjustment to his dear wife.”

“I can well imagine how she adjusted his attitude.”  Mr. Bennet coughed but settled comfortably back, happily listening to a tale of his daughter.

“Hmm, just so, and I agreed not to battle him over the point, no matter how wrong it was.  I remarked on how pleased we were to see the two of them so happy.”  He cleared his throat.  “In any case, we were talking over how they came to be engaged and he was proudly speaking of how she never wavered once she said yes.  And that is when he spoke of saving her.”  Mr. Bennet’s smile faded.  “Mr. Darcy made mention of a certain conversation he overheard you have with our brother Philips.”

“Did he?”  Mr. Bennet sat up and fidgeted.

“Mr. Darcy was not specific in his revelations, he skirted the subject, but he mentioned enough to get me thinking.  While those who live with you may not see the change, I have not been in your company in nearly six months and I was shocked to take in your appearance when we arrived.  Why have you not told me, Bennet?  That you are dying?  When I saw the pain, the anger in Mr. Darcy’s eyes as he relentlessly described your plans . . . You wished to marry Elizabeth to Collins by this date?  You never intended for him to take her to the parish, but to install them immediately into Longbourn?”

“Yes.” 

“So that she would be here to care for you as you decline?”

“Yes.”  He swallowed. 

“Leaving her with the estate but forever bound to misery with Collins while you are tucked away in your grave.”  Mr. Gardiner sighed.  “Good Lord, Bennet.  While at the time I was floored, the more I thought of it, the less surprised I was.  How typical of you, selfish.”

“It would have left her safe at Longbourn and able to take care of all of her sisters and mother.  She is the best suited.”  Mr. Bennet protested.

“Yes, at first a painful but reasonable plan, but you continued even after Mr. Darcy offered.  That is what offended me.”  Mr. Gardiner shook his head.  “I hear your coughing, clearly you do not look well, but I must ask, are you sure of this diagnosis?  Mr. Darcy said that you never confirmed nor denied it but he felt it was all too true.”

“It is.  I feared it was consumption, but . . . the rest of the family seems well.  The apothecary consulted a doctor and he feels it is a cancer.  So I am denied the romantic death in favour of the terrible one.   I pray that I live to see Mary’s wedding, I . . . I pray that I will live to see Lizzy once more.  I have told nobody of this beyond Philips.  He, of course, has all of the papers regarding the estate.”  He looked up to his brother, “Did Darcy tell Lizzy?”

“No.  Don’t you think she would have been here if he had?”  Shaking his head, he sat back.  “No, as you had not confirmed the diagnosis and left him with only his speculation, Mr. Darcy felt that he could not tell her, and he said that he would not tell her of your plans for her marriage to Mr. Collins, the true reasons why you wanted them married, not the pleasant fantasy you told her.  He wants her memory of you to remain unsullied.”

“A good man.”  Mr. Bennet murmured. 

“He loves his wife.  That is something I did not have to be told to know.”  Mr. Gardiner sighed when Mr. Bennet’s shoulders drooped.  “Well, now I know the truth.  I wish that you would relieve this burden for your new son and tell Lizzy yourself, but that is your decision.  It would be a kindness to him.”  Mr. Bennet stared into his glass.  “What can I do to make this easier for you and your family?  I somehow have a feeling that you are quite unprepared.  Or have you merely left the duties in our brother’s hands?” 

“You know me well, Gardiner.”  Sitting up, he opened a drawer and drew out some papers.  “Very well.  Help me along my way,” they suddenly heard a loud argument beginning amongst the girls, “to eternal peace.”

“DON’T YOU MOVE, you hear me?”  Wickham nodded and watched the ugly blade slip back into its scabbard.  The same scenario played out twice a day, every day, when a maid from the rooming house would come to stoke the fire, empty the chamber pot, or make a rudimentary attempt at cleaning.  Wickham again sat at the desk, his chain removed so that the girl would not wonder about it.  How many times had he contemplated escape?  But Christmas stood outside the door, and that left the window and a precipitous drop to the alley below. 

“Good morning, sir.”  The girl squeaked, always nervous when entering the strange gentleman’s room. 

“Good morning.”

She moved around picking things up, and made her way over to the desk.  Drawing near, she stammered.  “Sir, that letter you gave me to post . . .”

“Yes?” Wickham said sharply. 

“I . . . I dropped it in the street and when I went to pick it up, a cart was headed towards me and I jumped out of the way, and then a horse trod on it and then . . . well . . .”  She slowly withdrew the mangled mess from her apron.  “I thought maybe you would want to start again.”  Wickham’s eyes closed and he took it from her.  “I promise I won’t drop it again.” 

“Hey!”  Christmas appeared.  “You aren’t here to talk!”

“No, sir.”  She ducked her head and opened the window, and picking up the chamber pot, looked out before pouring the contents onto the alley below.  Setting it back in the corner, she closed the window and scurried out. 

“What’s that?”  The mountain of a man demanded as he bent to reattach the chains.

“My mother’s letter.  She dropped it.”

“From the smell of it I think I know where it landed.”  He laughed.

“Do you think you could get me some paper so I can try again?” 

Christmas straightened and considered him.  “You know, now that I think of it, I should have asked the judge about this.”  Seeing Wickham’s eyes widen, he nodded.  “I’ll ask him if he ever comes back.”  Laughing harshly, he strode out the door and Wickham heard the click of the lock turning. 

Swearing under his breath, he gingerly opened the folded page and tried to see if it could be salvaged somehow.  He thought of refolding it, but there was no way to do so without exposing the contents.   He walked over to the basin on the washstand and pouring in some water, immersed the parchment.  As the filth was rinsed away, he looked through the murky liquid to read the letter as the ink began to slowly dissolve.

Darcy,

I have spent years making your life miserable and I have no good reason for it other than pure jealousy.  We were friends and that is why your father promoted me, and I became greedy and wanted more.  I wanted what the heir receives and failed to remember that I was not even a family member.  I know that this makes no difference now.  Everything I have done in the past is nothing in comparison to how I hurt Georgiana.  I have no time to explain why now, but you must know, you must understand, I was paid to be at Ramsgate.  And the one who paid me was your uncle the judge.  I was to kiss her and he was to catch me.  Yes, I admit it is my fault that things went as far as they did, but you must know that my actions have unleashed a madman, Darcy!  Your uncle is hell bent on killing you and your wife in some mad scheme to marry Georgiana to his son and install him as the master.  He is determined to use my knowledge of Pemberley to carry out the plan while he remains far removed from it all.  He has me imprisoned in London and he has a man watching me.  If I do not go along, he will turn me over to the colonel, and I know that he will strike first and ask questions later. 

If I do not carry out the plan, the jailer will kill me.  If he does not carry out the plan, his brother in Newgate will be sent to Australia.  And the worst part of it all is that I fear your uncle is under the influence of some substance.  I saw his eyes, Darcy, I saw a swing in moods from cold to raving to nearly rational.  I do not believe that he knows what he has ordered, or even that he wants it, and while I am more than willing to ignore it, the man who has my charge will not.  Darcy, you are in danger.  Believe me; I am being as truthful as I have ever been.  Beware your uncle; I have no choice but to go to Pemberley and carry out this deed.   I will not die for you, but I owe you this information.  Save yourself, save what is left of my soul, before it is too late. 

I know that you will never pass this on to her, but know that I did care for Georgiana.  She is the only woman who ever showed me true affection.  I was loath to give that feeling up once it was found.

Wickham

The ink washed away and he picked up the wet parchment, carrying the discoloured sheet to hang over the screen set before the fire.  He sat down and watched the water dripping on the hearth and worked out what he would say this time.  “Now what do I use for ink?”  He said softly and looked down at his fingers.  “Well there is always blood.  No doubt Darcy would love to use my blood for hurting Georgie.”  His eyes closed.  “I am so sorry, my sweet little girl.”  He kicked the hearth angrily and a piece of coal fell from the grate and broke into pieces.  Wickham leaned forward, reaching into the fireplace, and gingerly pulled one out, then drew a line on the floor.  “There you go.” 

Chapter 26

25 December 1811

My Dearest Elizabeth,

May this be the worst Christmas we ever experience.
 

“You do have a way with words, Fitzwilliam.”  Elizabeth smiled and startled as Judy returned to the dressing room.  She quickly folded the love letter Darcy had left beneath her pillow that morning and tucked it into her reticule. “Thank you, Judy.”  She looked into the mirror while the maid admired the jewelled comb Darcy had left perched on top of her robe.  “It is lovely.”