Read Online Imperative: Volume 1, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice by Linda Wells - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Linda Wells
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him. I could not look away when he was present, even when I was determined not to look I found myself contemplating him; and that to my great surprise, I discovered that his eyes were always on me. I thought he was looking for fault, now I know differently.” She blushed and her voice grew soft again. “I realized that I strained to catch his voice amongst the murmurs of the crowd, and . . . that my first impression, my first thought of him, was correct.”
“Oh?” He leaned forward and folded his hands. “And that was?”
“No, Papa. One day perhaps we will be friends enough for me to tell him, but only him.”
“Friends.” Mr. Bennet shook his head. “Where did you form your notions of marriage? Surely it was not from this house.”
Avoiding an answer, she asked. “Are you not friends with Mama?”
“I suppose.” He looked to his hands and sighed. “She is a silly thing, and Lydia is her younger reflection. Kitty is not much better, although perhaps she has a touch of sense somewhere in the fluff of her head. Mary is . . . I do not know what to make of Mary. Far too earnest. Jane is my poised and lovely peacemaker, and you . . .” He looked up to her. “I will miss with all of my heart. Please do not forget Longbourn when that man sweeps you away into his rich world. Look in on us, look after your sisters, I fear that your mother is not strong enough to . . .” He stopped when he saw her concern. “Forgive me, my dear. You are the first of my daughters to leave the home, I suppose that I am exposing my age.”
“Papa . . .”
“Mr. Bennet!” Mrs. Bennet flew into the room. “Mr. Bennet, your heir is driving me to distraction, please come and join your family. Lizzy! You can talk to anyone, come occupy this man!” Father and daughter exchanged smiles and shrugs.
“Come, Lizzy. Your talents are needed here a bit longer.”
Chapter 3
18 November 1811
Darcy House
London
My Dearest Elizabeth,
Darcy’s pen hesitated over the paper. “May I call you mine? Will I ever be your dearest? Will you call me anything besides Mr. Darcy, or will I be as your father is to your mother?” Leaning back in his chair, he played with the feather at the end of the pen and stared pensively towards the mistress’s chambers, thinking over all that Richard and his uncle had said of his decision to marry, and knew that this was not infatuation as they inferred. “A marriage of convenience to start with yes, but . . .whatever it becomes, I know without doubt that it will still be more than I ever would have had with any woman of my circle. Elizabeth is . . .” He sighed regretfully. “Stop. Once she knows everything, I doubt that any endearments will ever be allowed, or anything else.” Straightening, he selected a new page and began again.
Dear Miss Elizabeth,
Again his pen hesitated, and he watched as ink fell onto the page and formed a mournful black puddle below her name. “I told her of my admiration did I not? She blushed with pleasure when she heard it, did she not? She accepted my kiss, she rested in my arms, she told me that she wished I would stay . . . Perhaps, one day, with time . . .” His chin lifted and once again he balled up the sheet and tossed it in the fire. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he let it out and nodded, and then purposefully, he dipped his pen in the ink and began to write firmly. “Let us begin.”
Dearest Elizabeth ,
“COME ON !” Lydia said impatiently and looked back to her sisters. “They should be back by now!”
“Who?” Jane asked and gasped when Lydia grabbed her hand and pulled her forward.
“The officers!” Her eyes were bright and she giggled, abandoning Jane’s hand and looping her arm with Kitty’s. “Denny said they would return from London yesterday!”
“What were you doing speaking with Mr.
“Oh?” He leaned forward and folded his hands. “And that was?”
“No, Papa. One day perhaps we will be friends enough for me to tell him, but only him.”
“Friends.” Mr. Bennet shook his head. “Where did you form your notions of marriage? Surely it was not from this house.”
Avoiding an answer, she asked. “Are you not friends with Mama?”
“I suppose.” He looked to his hands and sighed. “She is a silly thing, and Lydia is her younger reflection. Kitty is not much better, although perhaps she has a touch of sense somewhere in the fluff of her head. Mary is . . . I do not know what to make of Mary. Far too earnest. Jane is my poised and lovely peacemaker, and you . . .” He looked up to her. “I will miss with all of my heart. Please do not forget Longbourn when that man sweeps you away into his rich world. Look in on us, look after your sisters, I fear that your mother is not strong enough to . . .” He stopped when he saw her concern. “Forgive me, my dear. You are the first of my daughters to leave the home, I suppose that I am exposing my age.”
“Papa . . .”
“Mr. Bennet!” Mrs. Bennet flew into the room. “Mr. Bennet, your heir is driving me to distraction, please come and join your family. Lizzy! You can talk to anyone, come occupy this man!” Father and daughter exchanged smiles and shrugs.
“Come, Lizzy. Your talents are needed here a bit longer.”
Chapter 3
18 November 1811
Darcy House
London
My Dearest Elizabeth,
Darcy’s pen hesitated over the paper. “May I call you mine? Will I ever be your dearest? Will you call me anything besides Mr. Darcy, or will I be as your father is to your mother?” Leaning back in his chair, he played with the feather at the end of the pen and stared pensively towards the mistress’s chambers, thinking over all that Richard and his uncle had said of his decision to marry, and knew that this was not infatuation as they inferred. “A marriage of convenience to start with yes, but . . .whatever it becomes, I know without doubt that it will still be more than I ever would have had with any woman of my circle. Elizabeth is . . .” He sighed regretfully. “Stop. Once she knows everything, I doubt that any endearments will ever be allowed, or anything else.” Straightening, he selected a new page and began again.
Dear Miss Elizabeth,
Again his pen hesitated, and he watched as ink fell onto the page and formed a mournful black puddle below her name. “I told her of my admiration did I not? She blushed with pleasure when she heard it, did she not? She accepted my kiss, she rested in my arms, she told me that she wished I would stay . . . Perhaps, one day, with time . . .” His chin lifted and once again he balled up the sheet and tossed it in the fire. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he let it out and nodded, and then purposefully, he dipped his pen in the ink and began to write firmly. “Let us begin.”
Dearest Elizabeth ,
“COME ON !” Lydia said impatiently and looked back to her sisters. “They should be back by now!”
“Who?” Jane asked and gasped when Lydia grabbed her hand and pulled her forward.
“The officers!” Her eyes were bright and she giggled, abandoning Jane’s hand and looping her arm with Kitty’s. “Denny said they would return from London yesterday!”
“What were you doing speaking with Mr.
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