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

by Wells, Linda

  Smiling, he set down his pen and read over his contrition and pointed dig at Elizabeth, and imagined her face as she read changing from satisfaction to resignation. “We are the same, love. Stubborn as mules.” Darcy wrote a note to his uncle, asking for a recommendation for a secretary, then sealing it, stood from his desk and walked outside to join Elizabeth, who was now speaking with the head gardener. “What plans have you devised to torture Mr. Green, Mrs. Darcy?” He asked as he approached.

  “Sir!” The elder man with the ruddy complexion and permanently muddy knees bowed. “Mrs. Darcy was asking the origins of the rose garden. I recall it was Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Colin Darcy, your grandmother, who had it planted here.”

  “I believe that you are correct.” He smiled and turned to Elizabeth. “Your rose bush came from a cutting of her favourite bloom. Mr. Green and his father before him have been propagating that variety for as long as they have been at Pemberley.”

  “Aye, sir! And I was just telling the mistress, I have a new one in the hothouse, I think it will be a great success, would you like to see it now?” He looked eagerly between the two.

  Elizabeth laughed and Darcy smiled at her. “I would love to see it. Why have you not planted it in the garden?”

  “Madam, this is your garden, I was waiting for you to come home and choose the spot. If you will just wait here, I will fetch it out and you can show me where it belongs.” He stopped and turned. “It will be needing a name, now. It’s an orphan.”

  He strode quickly away and Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand, and kissed it. “An orphan rose, something rather poetic in that.”

  “Hmm.” Elizabeth gave no resistance when he tugged and drew her into his arms. “We will have to see it to know its identity.”

  “I already know.” He whispered and kissed her ear. “And as master, I will decide.”

  “I thought the garden was mine!” She looked up to see his eyes twinkling at her. “What are you doing out here, you said that you have a mountain of work.”

  “I do.”

  “And?”

  “I would rather be with you. If you will not work with me, then I will come to you.” He rested his chin in her hair and hugged her. “Do you object?”

  “No. But you know that I would be glad to return with you and help if you wish.” She smiled, hearing his whispered apology for his behaviour, and responded with a kiss to his nose. Darcy laughed and then furrowed his brow when her expression changed.

  “Lizzy? Is there a reason beyond our disagreement that you were out here alone?” Waiting, he said softly, “I may not be accomplished at reading others’ emotions, but I think that I am an expert at reading yours.”

  Elizabeth sighed and leaned into his embrace. “Standing here in our garden, it is as if everything that happened in London was nothing more than a terrible dream.”

  “What is wrong?” He leaned down to look at her eyes as they welled up. “We are safe, dearest. We are well. Well, we are improving. What brought on your sadness? Surely it is something besides my bullheadedness?”

  “I do not know.” She sniffed and shrugged, then turned in his arms. “Thank you for coming outside to be with me.”

  Darcy hugged her to him and rubbing her back, thought of how to drag her worries from her. “We have much to do. We have been here nearly two weeks and have not gone riding, we have not visited your tree, we have not gone swimming …”

  “Swimming! Oh no, Fitzwilliam Darcy, you will not dunk me in that cold water again!” Elizabeth declared and wiped her eyes when he nodded vehemently and smiled. “You make it sound as if we have done nothing but sit and stare at each other! We both had much to do after being away, there is the harvest approaching for you, and so much with the tenants and the house, and soon we will have guests coming. And then of course there is Rosalie.”

  “All the more reason to enjoy this time today.” He kissed her gently. “I do not want you to be overtired. You need to go slowly.”

  “What of our sisters?” Elizabeth asked worriedly. “I have been trying to give them as much attention as I can, Mary seems to be happy learning from me as I work, but Georgiana seems unhappy with my occupation.”

  “They are not infants to be entertained, they can observe you and learn, or they can enjoy our home. Soon our nanny will arrive, and that should help, we are doing the best that we can.” Darcy kissed her wrinkled brow. “You and I need our own occupation, alone.” He looked off into the distance and kissing her throat, pointed to the cliff where they had spent many hours looking out over the estate. “You need to go up there.”

  “Do I?” She leaned back against his chest. “And what will be my pursuit?” Darcy said nothing and she looked up to him. “Will?”

  “Here you are!” Mr. Green appeared, a boy with a wheelbarrow was behind him, and another carried a spade. “What do you think?” He asked eagerly.

  “Oh, it is … lavender!” Elizabeth sighed. “I have never seen such a shade!”

  Puffing his chest, he grinned. “I have been fiddling with this for years. Give it a sniff, madam!”

  Laughing, she leaned to smell the rose in the wheelbarrow and smiled. “Heavenly.”

  “Sir?”

  Darcy leaned and smelled it. “It reminds me of the loveliest woman I know. It shall be named Elizabeth.”

  “Fitzwilliam!”

  “Do you agree; is that fitting enough for your triumph, Mr. Green?”

  “Aye sir!” He looked at the garden, “And where shall we place Mrs. Darcy?”

  “Wherever she will be admired the most.” He ordered, and smiled to see Elizabeth blushing and staring at her feet. “Now then, my dear, shall we visit Rosalie’s namesake?” He held out his arm and they walked out along the path to their glen. “You are still blushing.” Darcy laughed.

  “What has come over you?” She continued to look at her feet as they walked.

  He studied her. “A very wise woman once commanded me to think of the past only as it gives me pleasure.” Darcy stopped and lifting her chin, caressed his thumb over her lips. “What is it?”

  Elizabeth looked up at him and he bent to kiss her. “I walked around the house before I went outside, and found myself in the library. I was sitting in the chair that your father favoured and … I noticed the little collection of mementoes that were nearby.” She drew a breath and continued. “I found a miniature portrait of Wickham when I was looking at some drawings Georgiana had made when she was younger.” Darcy stopped and saw her swallow hard then start to sob. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “It is so accurate! It was like he was looking at me from beyond the grave, and telling me that we are not safe, not even here, not even with him buried! He has caused so much damage to us.”

  “Oh love.” Darcy sighed and kissed her hair. “I forgot all about that … thing. I should have destroyed it years ago. Father had that made when my portrait was painted, a concession I suppose for the jealousy that Wickham expressed to see my anointment as the heir when I came of age. Father was not a foolish man, but when it came to being manipulated, he was so ripe for Wickham.” He hugged her. “I am so very sorry, love. Do not tell me that you are going to allow such fancies to rule you? You know he is gone and cannot touch our family ever again? Does not your father call you his most sensible daughter?”

  “It was such a shock, especially when we had just argued because of what he caused. It was as if he was laughing at us.” Her voice cracked.

  “Lizzy.” He whispered and hugged her again. “We argued because I am frustrated and want to be myself faster than my body will let me, and you worry and are determined to make me slow down and accept help, which is something that I want you to do as well.” Drawing away, he kissed her again. “Now, where is it?”

  “In my bodice.” She said against his chest.

  “Well, that will not do. I will not have Wickham anywhere near the flesh that belongs only to me.” He kissed her and let go. “Give it over.” He held out his hand. She remov
ed it and he glanced at the face, and recalled his last sight of the man after his death. Grimly, he clutched it in his fist. “Come.”

  “Where are we going?” She took his hand and they headed off across the lawn. “You are not going to throw it in the lake are you?”

  “No!” He stared at her. “Pollute our lake with his image? I think not!” They strode rapidly along, and eventually the stables came into view. “I think that Richard should have the honour of destroying him.”

  “Richard?” She laughed and wiped her eyes. “The horse?”

  “The gelding.” He grinned and kissed her hand. “Shall we run?”

  “Run?” Elizabeth cried out when his strides grew and he pulled her along. “Will!!”

  “Can’t keep up, lovie?” He stopped and scooped her up in his arms and smiled down at her. “You, my dear, are slowing me down.”

  “You, sir, are clearly still addled!” She declared and kissed him. “And I love it.”

  “I do, too.” He smiled and dropped her down to her feet. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to get in the way of our love again.” They reached the stables and walked up to Richard’s stall. “Hello, Cousin.” He reached out and rubbed his forelock. “We will give you a good ride tomorrow.”

  “Where will we be going?” Elizabeth asked and watched as Wickham’s image was positioned in the stall.

  “Does it matter?” He looked up at her and raised his brows.

  “No. It does not at all.”

  He stood and gently nudged Richard forward, and the crunch of the porcelain beneath his enormous hoof was satisfying in its absolute finality. Moving back, they looked upon the powder that remained. “Dust to dust.” Darcy murmured.

  “Will?”

  “Hmm?” He kicked the residue into the dirt and looked up. “Yes, love?”

  “Did you notice that none of the staff is here?”

  “I imagine they are eating.” He took out his pocket watch and glanced at the time, then gasped to see her slowly raising her skirt up, exposing her ankles. “Lizzy!” He quickly stepped out of the stall. She just giggled and raised it up to her calves. “Stop that!” Up it went to her thighs and then to her waist. “Elizabeth …” Glancing around, he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up onto the ladder to the hayloft, and smacked her bottom. “Up! Now!” Happily he waited below, watching her hips sway as she climbed, and groaning as she lifted her skirts above her bare bottom when she reached the top. She turned around to smile at him.

  “Are you coming?”

  “Get up there, woman.” He growled and started after her. With a squeal she climbed over the hay towards a corner, but not fast enough. Darcy snagged her ankle and pulled her back on her belly. “You cannot escape me.”

  “When did I ever say that I wanted to?” She laughed when he flipped her over; her skirts had slid up, exposing all of her for him. Elizabeth giggled when he leaned down to rub his face over her belly and breathed in her scent.

  “My lavender rose.” He said happily, then grinning, he deftly opened his breeches and kneeled over her, kissing her lips. “Are you a temptress or a wanton?”

  “Can I not be both?” Elizabeth asked as she fondled his most admirable pride, delighting in his groan as she weighed his stones, and squealed again when he took an ankle in each hand and lifted her legs high and wide. “What are you going to do?”

  “Now that is the most redundant question you have ever asked me.” His smile relaxed and he bent down to kiss her lovingly. Elizabeth held his face in her hands and their mouths and tongues slid and embraced, leaving them both breathless and wanting. Shakily, Darcy drew back and stroked his hands from her waist to her ankles, and seeing her impatient desire, laughed. Looking down with his tongue firmly caught between his teeth, he manoeuvred his hips, took aim, and with great precision, speared her with one mighty thrust. “Oh Lord, YES!” He roared and resting her legs on his shoulders, proceeded to satisfy his ravenous need. “Harder?” He rasped.

  “Deeper. Faster.” Elizabeth demanded and stared up at his jet black eyes, feeling his warm pants waft over her face as he rutted determinedly. Very, very quickly, his intense rush of pleasure began. There was no way to stop it and Elizabeth thrilled with the sight of his eyes squeezing shut, his face transforming, his body shuddering, and hearing him cry out and gasp desperately as he shot into her repeatedly. At last he calmed and let her legs down, collapsing beside her in the straw with his arm lying limply across his brow.

  “That … was … bloody fantastic.”

  Elizabeth giggled and rolled to her side to kiss him. “You did seem to voice your enjoyment.”

  “Did I?” He laughed and rolled to face her. “Did you enjoy it? I was too fast, you did not find satisfaction.”

  “Of course I did.” Elizabeth caressed him and they kissed. “You were loving me.”

  “I was ravishing you.” Darcy sighed and drew her to him. “We have been so careful to be quiet, I … I just could not hold back. I will love you properly tonight.”

  “I know.” When he did not say anything she looked up to see his eyes slowly blinking shut. She caressed his hair and smiled when he settled his cheek on her head. “You needed to prove yourself, Will. I know. But you need to rest even more.” Below her, she heard the sound of the staff returning to their duties. She blushed and carefully moved to rebutton his breeches, and smoothed down her skirt before cuddling back to his chest. Darcy murmured something and wrapped his arms around her. She smiled and kissed his chin. “I wonder how long we will be up here.”

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Nichols picked up his fork. “He’s not quite right.”

  “He is just fine.” Mrs. Reynolds said tersely. “Mr. Darcy is just the same as always and I don’t want to hear another word about it.” She glared around the table. “And Mrs. Darcy is as well.”

  “Mrs. Darcy is worried about him. Do you see how they look at each other?” Bernard said quietly.

  “How, like moon calves?” Adams chuckled. “They are fine, not perfect, but fine.” He smiled at Millie and Mrs. Robbins. “We have been with them throughout. You are new to this. Believe me, if you wanted to see a couple of people who were unwell, you should have seen them seven weeks ago.”

  “The man cannot ride.” Nichols said. “Not like he could before.”

  “Let’s see your head crack open and we’ll see how well you can ride! Come now, the master nearly died!”

  “Do not speak of it!” Mrs. Reynolds declared. “He is fine! That no good Wickham, I always thought Mr. Darcy senior was wrong to let him cosy up. He should have been paying attention to his own, that is what I thought!”

  “Some thought that he was his own.” Mr. Green said from behind his teacup. He saw the glares and curiosity and shrugged. “I never believed it, but you know how tongues wag. Jealous ones I always thought, why would one servant’s child get the master’s favour when the rest did not?”

  “Hmmm. I hadn’t thought of that.” Nichols rubbed his chin. “I wonder if Mr. Darcy would do such a thing?”

  “He was newly married then, that’s why I never believed it.” Mr. Green noted. “I didn’t think I would ever see a man more besotted until I saw our master with his Mrs. Darcy.” The staff all laughed and agreed.

  “I knew Wickham’s father, obviously, I worked under him. He was a very good man. His mother was the problem, always looking for more. More money, more gifts from the master … I heard her one time, Go on Georgy, go smile at Mr. Darcy.” Nichols shook his head. “She’s the one that made him jealous of our master. The boy didn’t know when to say thank you and leave well alone.”

  “And he swung for it.” Adams said with satisfaction. “I went down to see it. Me, Foster, all the boys, we went down to the prison. We didn’t stay to see him cut down, we needed to get back home before the master returned, but … we wanted to be there.”

  “Well it was likely better than being in the house. Poor Mrs. Darcy was beside herself all that time wait
ing for the master to come home.” Millie whispered. “She just held onto the baby, didn’t she, Mrs. Robbins?”

  “Yes, I had to pry her away. Then she went walking and oh, that magistrate came home with the men. I think that Mrs. Darcy was ready to throttle the lot of them and throw them out the door, she was so desperate to get to her husband.” Adams and Millie exchanged glances and did not add to the conversation.

  Matthews entered the servant’s dining room and took a seat. “So is this a regular session?”

  “Nightly for the senior staff, except Mrs. Robbins when she has the duty.” Adams nodded to her and winked. “But her work is much lighter now; she gets to sleep as well.”

  “Not for long, she’s teething. Her papa will be sharing his laudanum with her.” Mrs. Robbins sighed. “And we’ll see how long Mrs. Darcy continues her duty once she starts getting bitten.”

  “My mother used whiskey.” Mr. Green recalled.