Memory: Volume 2, Trials to Bear, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice)

by Wells, Linda

  “No.” He stroked his hands over her shoulders then lifted her to thrust a few times, and she slowly rode him while they engaged in open kisses, exploring each other’s mouths. Darcy’s breath became ragged, and stilled her movement, closing his eyes while he regained control. “I became a man the day my father told me he was to die. I remember it settling over me, an uncomfortable mantle of responsibility relieved only by the gift of your laughter and concern.”

  “Oh Will.”

  “So, today when I was struck by the thought, once again, that had we not met … I became my possessive self. Forgive me for making you angry.” His lips lifted in his little smile. “Although I do love to see your ire raised.”

  “That I know.” Elizabeth ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him. “Lay down.”

  He tipped over and with a great deal of laughter; he was on his back with his hands on her bottom and Elizabeth lying on his chest. “Better?”

  “Hmm.” She sat up and dangled her breasts before him. Laughing, he happily suckled her, then licking the milk from his lips, groaned when she began mastering her mount once again.

  “Oh Elizzzzzzzzabeth.” He panted and moaned. “Slow, slow, dearest, I … I want to last.” Reaching up he dragged her face back down for more kisses. “Oh love, this feels so good.”

  She lay back onto his chest and he held her to him. “I am so close.”

  “Hold on, love. Think of something else.”

  “What?” She moaned and squeezed the throbbing rock inside of her. “Ohhhhh, Will.”

  “Shhhhhhhh. Not yet, please.” Darcy searched for a subject. “Mary.”

  “Mary?”

  “De Bourgh was …ohhhh …laughing at her.”

  “With good reason.” Elizabeth began suckling his neck below his ear and he responded by biting her shoulder. “Bite me again!” She nipped his lobe.

  “No …oh sweetheart, no, not yet.” He panted and held her face up to keep her lips from driving him insane. “Please. This is exquisite torture.”

  “It certainly is.” She stared into the dark pools of his eyes. “Mary.”

  “yes, yes.” He grabbed onto the subject again. “What happened?”

  Elizabeth thought desperately to remember. “She was … Fordyce … ohhhhhhhh … he had never … heard … laughable.”

  “Must … burn … all … copies.” Darcy declared as he drove upwards.

  “Ohhh … he was … oh, Will.” Elizabeth whimpered.

  “You … did not … read … Fordyce.”

  “No.”

  Darcy bit her throat, and she moaned. “I am … so … grateful.”

  “As am I.”

  “You are wanton.” He growled.

  “You are a rake.” She cried.

  “Elizabeth?” Darcy panted as his voice rose an octave. “Now.” He rolled her over and looked down for a moment, then began thrusting as deep and fast as he could. It took only moments before they both felt their bodies dissolving into the all-encompassing pleasure. “Ohhhhhhh.” Darcy moaned and kept moving as he felt her relaxing. When his moment came, he collapsed and pressed his face to her shoulder to keep the oaths he wished to swear from his tongue. He desperately wanted to shout out his pleasure so all of London knew what he was feeling.

  “Will!” Elizabeth cried. They held each other and sighed. “ohhh.”

  “Dearest.” Darcy breathed in deeply. “My sweet Lizzy.” He kissed her and bathed her shoulder gently with his tongue. “My dear Lizzy.” Kissing her gently he at last withdrew and immediately pulled her to him. “Dear sweet Elizabeth.”

  She giggled as he incoherently mumbled endearments and fell asleep. “I suppose that we will finish this conversation in the morning.” She reached for the counterpane and drew it over them, then cuddled into his arms. “Good night, my love.”

  “WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Mrs. Younge sat up and asked when Wickham rose from the bed they had been sharing vigorously all evening. She watched him relieve himself in the chamber pot and then pull clothes over his wasted body.

  “I need some things.” He said softly. “I need some clothes.”

  “I have the clothes that you left behind when you were sent to …” She stood and went to a corner, and opened a trunk.

  “You do take care of me, Dotty.” He murmured, and looked through his belongings, fingering the fine lawn of a shirt from his former life. “I will save these for our journey.” Buttoning his breeches, he tucked his shirt in. “I need to pick up a few other things.”

  “Maybe I have them?”

  “I doubt that you have a pistol.” He gave her a crooked grin and reached out to tweak her breast. “I am an escaped prisoner. I need to be ready.”

  “You wouldn’t kill anyone, would you?” She said worriedly.

  “Of course not, lovey. Of course not.” Wickham pinched her bottom and kissed her. “Don’t dress, I’ll be back soon.” He slipped out of the door and looking around, went down the steps to the quiet street, then started walking towards Hyde Park. He passed a watchman and nodding to him, kept walking.

  The man touched his hat and moved on. “Eleven o’clock and all is well!”

  Chapter 17

  “All alone?” Bingley asked Hurst when he wandered into the breakfast room. “Blessed silence.” He said wearily.

  “This does not sound like it is about Louisa.” Bingley poured a cup of coffee and settled into a chair. His gaze roamed the table and he looked back to Hurst. “Two extra places?” Hurst said nothing as Charles again scanned the room, and then saw the telltale evidence of Caroline. “Oranges.”

  “The Robinsons are here.”

  “It is not anywhere close to orange season.” Bingley stared at the bowl, then plucked one out. “It is petrified!”

  “My mother hangs them about with cloves over them.” Hurst examined one and returned it. “Caroline thinks they are more decorative this way.”

  “Then let her decorate her own home.” Dropping the shrivelled fruit into the bowl, he looked to Hurst. “Well?”

  “Their house is under renovation, and they have come to keep us company while it is completed.” He laughed mirthlessly. “If you had come home last night, you would have been entertained with a litany of Caroline’s complaints of the society who have yet to recognize the wonders of her company. And her husband’s complaints that none of the higher society that I inhabit,” He coughed, “care to participate in his dinner parties.”

  “They are well-matched, without a doubt.” Bingley murmured. “Actually I was here, I came home rather early. I simply decided to keep my own company in my rooms.”

  “You spoke to Miss Bennet?” Hurst sat back and folded his arms.

  “Yes.” He shrugged. “I never should have tried. How many men told me not to pursue her? Even Mrs. Darcy questioned my desire. I fought it even as I moved forward. I suppose that I was trying to live up to the challenge presented by Lord Matlock to be a man. It was Darcy who put forth the question that I finally heard. He asked if I were to marry her today, full of passion and excitement, would I have anything to say to her by the date of the first anniversary?” Bingley smiled. “Passion. Waking up this morning, I realized that Miss Bennet is a woman incapable of passion, at least for me, and that my feelings can hardly be described as burning.”

  Hurst shook his fork at him. “You want what Darcy has. You cannot compare your prospects to anyone else. How many marriages start without regard, let alone passion?”

  “I refuse to settle for a mediocre life, Hurst.” Bingley said decisively. “My parents had that; ambition was the only common ground that they held. No, Darcy got me to thinking and I envisioned us smiling at each other and going our separate ways. We really have nothing to say to each other. We were pleasant companions, friends, and we always got along … Do I sound as miserable as I think I do? I sound like I am trying to make her sound like a, well like a person she is not. She is very sweet and kind; she simply is not the girl for me.”

 
; “This is the closest you have ever come to marriage; it is not surprising that you would feel a bit emotional about it.” Hurst smiled understandingly.

  Bingley sighed and picked up his cup to take a sip. “Darcy assured me that conversation and friendship is almost the entire relationship, but that mutual goals and support are crucial, and lovemaking is the bonus. He told me about something Harwick said to him once, that there are many hours to the day in a marriage, and one cannot always be at sport or business; you must have something to share with your wife. Of course in Darcy’s case that is not a problem in the slightest, but for normal men …” Bingley smiled to see Hurst rolling his eyes. “Well, he did not want to see me turning to a courtesan to provide the companionship that I might not receive at home.”

  “It sounds as if Darcy is not impressed with his sister.”

  “It is not that he does not like her … He is spoiled by his wife, just as she is spoiled by him.” Bingley stood and perused the dishes on the sideboard, then filled his plate. “But he makes excellent points, do you agree?”

  “I find no fault in them.” Hearing the sounds of women’s voices, he sighed. “Brace yourself.”

  “Charles!” Caroline breezed in with her husband and sister, and waited for someone to pull out her chair. When it was clear that nobody would, she covered her hesitation by turning to the sideboard. “We missed you last night. Louisa told me that you were visiting the Darcys?”

  “Yes, and they are very well.” He took his seat. “I will be speaking to Darcy again this afternoon.”

  “Really?” She looked at Louisa and smiled. “Perhaps we could join you and pay a call on Mrs. Darcy?”

  “Mrs. Darcy is hosting some friends for several days, I do not know if she has time for visitors.”

  Caroline brushed him off. “Why of course she does! You were there!”

  “I was visiting Darcy, not his wife.” Bingley said pointedly.

  “Of course you were.” She smiled brilliantly.

  “Caroline, you are not going to bother Mrs. Darcy. There is no point to it. You are not going to Pemberley. Darcy has made that quite clear any number of times.”

  “Oh, but when you marry Miss Bennet …”

  “No, Caroline, I will not marry her.” He glanced at Hurst who smiled and caught Louisa’s eye. She looked at her brother and back at her husband with her mouth open.

  “What did you say?” Caroline slowly turned. “You have been courting her.”

  “I have ended our relationship. I realized that it is time to move on.”

  Robinson had been sitting at the table studying him. “Bored?” Bingley’s brow creased. “Well the woman is beautiful, but it is well known she brought nothing to the table, at least nothing significant beyond the connection to Darcy.” He glanced at his wife and smirked. “Unlike you, my dear. So much for your plans.”

  “What plans?” She darted a look at Bingley who folded his arms and stared at her.

  Robinson laughed shortly. “Caroline, I am not a fool. And I will not be a cuckolded husband, no matter how hard you try. I’ll get to the first circles some other way.” He watched her colour rise and turned back to Bingley. “It is a disappointment, but Bingley here is still friends with the Darcys, I presume. We will undoubtedly meet at some function or other and I will make use of the connection then.”

  “No, you will not.” Bingley glared. “I will not have my friendship used for your purposes.”

  “Is it not in your best interests to see your family well-off? If my business fails, we might very well appear on your doorstep, baggage in hand.” He chuckled.

  “Then I suggest that you attend your business and stay well away from mine. Go to your estate and live off the land.” Standing, he threw his napkin on the table. “I have lost my appetite.”

  “Come now, Bingley, I was just getting a rise out of you.” Robinson laughed. “You are always so easy; it is good to see that you are capable of affront.”

  “I do not need, nor desire, to be treated as a mouse by a cat.” He said angrily.

  “You have said enough, Robinson.” Hurst cut in before his brother could retort. “If you wish to remain here while your home is repaired, I suggest that we attempt to live in harmony.” He looked to Caroline. “That goes for you, as well.”

  “You are not my husband.” She sniffed.

  “No, but I am master of this house, and my welcome is crucial. I could care less if you must live with workers and paint for the duration of your renovations, Caroline.”

  “Please, this is most unseemly.” Louisa shot a look to the door. “The staff does not need to hear any of this.”

  “Forgive me Bingley; I am merely a tradesman on my way up the social ladder.” Robinson nodded. “Caroline. No more talk of Darcy, Pemberley or any other such nonsense. We will arrive on our own.”

  She glared. “You certainly did not mind talking of your plans for meeting him before, Mr. Robinson.”

  “I will meet him. But it seems that he has no desire to meet you.” He smirked. “What is his club, Bingley?”

  “You would go to his club? Without me?” Caroline screeched.

  “It is a gentleman’s club, my dear. No proper ladies allowed.” He winked at Bingley.

  Bingley felt the heat rising in his face. “Darcy does not participate …”

  “Oh calm down, man. You know that nobody is offering me a membership there.” He sighed. “How did you ever get in?”

  “A friend of Father’s sponsored me. He died almost immediately after I was accepted.” Bingley said quietly, as silence calmed the heated atmosphere of the room.

  Robinson picked up a banana and examined it. “So? You are doing what now if you are not courting Miss Bennet?”

  Bingley remained silent for several moments, and resumed his seat. “I have decided to take a tour for the next year.” He turned to Hurst. “I thought that you and Louisa might like to come along.”

  “Ohhh, really?” Louisa gasped and turned to her husband. “You never got to travel when you graduated, could we, Gerald?”

  “You would waste our father’s money on travel?” Caroline demanded.

  “It is my money, Caroline, to do with as I please. You have yours. And may I remind you, our father wished for me to be a gentleman. Part of that education is seeing the continent.” He noticed Robinson looking at him and addressed Hurst. “What do you think? I was going to ask Darcy for advice on where to go. There are plenty of guides to take us along, and keep us safe.”

  “A year?” He said thoughtfully.

  “Well, it does not have to be, but enough time to do it properly. I need to fill some time before considering Netherfield for next year or hopefully something more suitable will become available. I would rather do it improving my mind than hanging around the clubs.”

  Hurst smiled then stared at the bowl of rotten oranges. “How long will your renovation work take, Caroline?”

  Robinson eyed him. “I would say at least six months.”

  Hurst drew himself up and nodded. “Yes Bingley, I think that a little tour would do us a world of good.”

  “WHAT ON EARTH is she thinking?” Lady Matlock demanded. “All of that work, the dresses, the lessons, taking her around, introducing her … I am appalled!”

  “I would not have told you of the engagement before Mr. Lucas spoke to my father, but with a roomful of family witnessing its formation, I felt that of all people, you should know before any embarrassing statements were uttered when you see her and meet Mr. Lucas this afternoon. Do not think that Jane is ungrateful, Aunt Helen. I know that she is anxious to thank you for all of your efforts.” Elizabeth said patiently. “What you have done for her has surely made her into a far better woman than she was. You have opened her eyes to the greater world.”

  “Yes, and now she closes them against all that she has been shown! She is returning to …forgive me, my dear, but she will be so much less than she is now!”

  Elizabeth became defensiv
e. “Both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Lucas are the sons of tradesmen.”

  “Yes, and there is a spectacular difference in their prospects!” She stood and glared out of the window. “Lucas Lodge, indeed.”

  “If you had not pushed her so hard towards Mr. Bingley, she might have found someone you felt was more suitable, but in the end, it is she and she alone who will choose.” Elizabeth’s eyes flashed. “I will not allow you to criticize her decision. She is happy, as is he. They know each other, they are comfortable with their expectations, he is a hardworking and kind man, and undoubtedly they will do quite well together.”

  “My reputation is at risk here, as well, Mrs. Darcy.” Lady Matlock reminded her.

  “She is not your child to direct. And since it is highly unlikely that you will spend time with them in a social situation outside of our home again, I suggest that the damage to your reputation is insignificant.”

  “What did you say?” She glared. “I put my effort into rescuing her from that upbringing you both suffered. My friends were anticipating a brilliant match as a result.”

  “And so she has found one. For her. Is not that the point? Was she a pet project of yours or did you care about her? Or would you prefer that she suffers an unhappy marriage like your daughter did for the sake of being rich?”

  “Audrey is very happy now!”

  “And how miniscule was the chance of that happening?” Elizabeth asked steadily. “Jane and Mr. Lucas are from the same world, neither of them want what we have, they have identified precisely what they desire. Please stop projecting your ideals onto them. They are pleased with each other.”

  “Does she love him?” Lady Matlock sighed and sank into a chair. “I realize that she did not love Mr. Bingley, but that was not something that I considered important. I saw compatibility.”

  “I believe that they do love each other.” She relaxed her stance. “He will give her the strength that she lacks, and she will give him the compassion that he craves.”

  “This is no passionate affair, then.”

  “I cannot compare it to my marriage, but it is not a calculated union, either. They are entirely different people from us, but all that matters to me is that Jane is very happy.”