by Wells, Linda
She burst into tears and wailed, “I am alone! What am I to do now?” She sniffed and fell into a chair, waved her handkerchief and sobbed into it. “Oh, Mr. Bennet!”
“If you had succeeded in marrying them off at the age of fifteen they would all be gone now, too!” Sighing, he waited for a break in her gasps and spoke quietly. “Mrs. Bennet, now do you understand where we have been deficient parents? We have provided a poor example to our daughters of marriage and drifted apart. Now that it is just you and I, we are lost. We have nothing in common. I can keep myself busy forever with the estate and my books, but you must find somewhere to put your time, and I do not see you embroidering for the remainder of your days.”
“Oh no!” Her eyes grew wide.
“Neither will you spend your days visiting Jane. There must be more for you than gossiping with your sister and the neighbours because you will not be spending my savings on frippery, it will go to pay my steward as he deserves and to save for my family’s survival past my death. Lizzy sent me a letter; would you care to hear what she has to say?” He held it up.
“I suppose.” She sniffed and eyed the fine stationary.
“It says, first that they are well, and Rosalie is sitting up by herself now.” He saw her nod. “She enjoyed taking the girls shopping for their new dresses, and Mary has several lovely ones now. They were waiting for her new gowns to be finished before they went out with Captain de Bourgh. Mr. Darcy’s birthday is this week, and they will take in a performance at Covent Garden in celebration.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Bennet looked envious. “I would love to go to town. Perhaps we …”
“Mrs. Bennet, we are not going anywhere.” He said sternly. “However, she was thinking of how you might be feeling at a loss now that the house is empty, and suggests that you might do as she when she first became Mrs. Darcy.” He licked his lips and braced himself. “She suggests that you begin to visit our tenants and learn their needs.” Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth and he held up his hand. “It is not an unreasonable plan. You have never really concerned yourself with them. Neither have I, and I think that Longbourn is poorer for it. She also said that gardening is all the rage in London and she thought you might like to spend the winter planning out how you would reinvigorate our small park, perhaps making sketches to give to our steward.” Before she said more, he continued, “And she suggested that you and I could read together and … talk about what we read.”
“Read!” Her eyes grew wide.
“It is an admirable way to pass the time, Mrs. Bennet. It might just improve our minds.” He sighed. “Lizzy is trying to think of activities that you might possibly entertain willingly. She would undoubtedly hope that you would take greater interest in becoming an outstanding mistress of this estate and provide a sound example to our remaining children. Visiting tenants would give you the contact with others that you enjoy, improving the garden will give you pride in something you have accomplished.” Once more he tried to impress her with their failure to their children. “I am certain that she wonders why she has had to take on the duties of mother to Mary and Kitty.” Seeing her brow furrow, he took some slight comfort at the sight. “I am open to suggestion; perhaps that is how you might spend your time today. Thinking.”
STEWART NUDGED DARCY when he walked past his chair at the club and sat down. “What brings you here?” He grinned. “And looking so well?”
“Which causes you the most consternation?” Darcy smiled and putting down his paper, waved off the servant who immediately appeared at his elbow with glasses of port. Stewart accepted one and sat back.
He gestured with his glass. “I am not criticizing. I am just pleased to see it. So the girls are settled?”
“Yes.” Darcy sighed. “We will remain the rest of this week just to be sure that all is well, then return straight home.”
“No visits to the in-laws.” Stewart winked. “Can’t say that I blame you. We have been without the Henleys since August.” He took a sip and grinned. “Bliss!”
“They are not so very bad.”
“Darcy, I know your mother-in-law and you know mine. Enough said.”
Darcy lifted his hand in defeat. “Say no more. How is Mrs. Stewart?”
“Very well. Lovely and wonderful.” He sighed and laughed at Darcy’s satisfied smirk. “You will have to bring Elizabeth by to visit.”
“I believe that she is doing that as we speak. She was to spend the day making calls to a few friends, and then tomorrow we will go to the theatre.”
“Ah …” Stewart’s brow creased. “Tomorrow is your birthday!”
“How on earth, and further, why would you remember that?” Darcy laughed.
“Oh, well, a year ago, it was not marked so well.” He saw the frown appear and shook his head. “Forgive me.”
“No, it was also the day that I learned Elizabeth was with child.” He shrugged and his smile returned. “A long year that I am glad to call over.”
“So what brings you here today? A chance to enjoy some time amongst men for a change?”
Darcy glanced around the sparsely populated room. “Most of the men are in the country. Why are you still here, by the way?”
“Our parents are going to be with Laura and Harwick, she is due next month, and well honestly, I have no desire to go to Moreland and spend the autumn with my brother.” He shrugged when Darcy’s lips lifted in a smile. “Next week we will be heading to our little estate and remain until court begins again. So, what brings you here?”
“Always the barrister. Well I met a friend of Lord Wolcroft’s who knew his private secretary. Arthur Conrad, do you know him?”
“Conrad.” Stewart closed his eyes. “I know that name. Older fellow, about forty?”
“About that.” Darcy nodded. “He was with Lord Wolcroft for nearly twenty years before he died and the estate was inherited by a distant cousin. He chose not to continue Conrad’s employment.”
“Ah, Wolcroft, he was a playmate of your father’s.” Stewart smiled to see Darcy’s head shake. “Well then, his credentials are impeccable.”
“Which is why he is being considered for this position.” He sighed. “Not that I wish to have him.”
“Loosen up the reins, Darcy.”
“I know, I know. Perhaps I can talk Elizabeth out of it though. I so enjoy working with her.” He shrugged and smiled. “I wish that she would be my secretary. I trust her beyond anyone.”
“I cannot imagine my father or brother entertaining such a thought.” Stewart laughed. “But I can see Mrs. Darcy rising to the challenge.”
“That is just it, she already has, and proven to be a very worthy helpmate. Her letters are far more palatable than mine. Well, she will meet him and then we will decide.” Seeing Stewart’s grin he sighed. “What?”
“She will decide.”
“I am the master.”
“You are with everyone but Mrs. Darcy.” Seeing Darcy’s eyes cast down and a blush appear, Stewart stopped his teasing and adjusted his seat. “The judge moved into Netherfield with his party last week.”
“Oh?” Clearly relieved with the change in subject, Darcy looked back up. “And have you heard any opinion?”
“His nephew is with him, he’s a barrister as well, and he sent me a note that his uncle loves the place. They attended an assembly there and Sir William Lucas welcomed them with open arms.”
“No doubt. My brother Lucas was likely in the background both cringing and marvelling.”
“I am sure. The beauty of his wife was mentioned.”
“Lucas will have to watch that.” Darcy mused. “She never attracted me, but I am not blind, and neither are any of the other men who might take that estate and try to take advantage of her.”
“Mrs. Lucas would never …”
“No, of course not, but I do not trust the men who will look around that neighbourhood and be disappointed in the quality of the available ladies. You know full well that chasing birds and fox is not the only spor
t they will pursue.”
“Rather cynical view, Darcy. Was someone looking over Elizabeth recently?” He smiled and raised his brow. “Feeling a bit of jealousy?” When he received no response, Stewart laughed. “That is it, someone approached her and what, asked for a dance and you did not like to share?” When there was still no response, Stewart laughed harder. The thought of Elizabeth ever being tempted was impossible. “What will you do at the theatre?”
“Hopefully everyone is off in the country.” He stared at his hands then glanced up at the clock. “I think that it is time for me to wend my way home.” The men stood and shook hands. “If you need any help with the estate, just let me know.”
“I will Darcy.” Stewart smiled. “Thank you.”
2 OCTOBER 1810
This morning I awoke in the most pleasant manner possible, that kiss, my Elizabeth, that kiss is a gift! Rarely bestowed but so gratefully received! Pleasanter still is her promise to be tucked to sleep this evening in a manner that has me wishing time away. I have no idea what is planned, but the gentlest of kisses, the slight trace of her fingertips, and her whisper has me on fire. I will undoubtedly follow my love around the house like a hound today, seeking out the pleasure I know she will bestow, and I am so ready to receive. More darling, more, I beg of you!
Calm, I must calm. Dearest, I can see your eyes dancing as you read this, a triumphant gleam lighting them. I know you, I know you well. You enjoy torturing the innocent man that I am. You siren! Calm Darcy, calm. It is useless, what is the time? Only eight in the morning! Hours and hours to go, a whole day! An evening at the theatre, dinner, friends, birthday celebrations, I want none of it! I want my promise! I am at last feeling myself, and I want to feel this! Torturous, enticing woman!
Elizabeth’s hand went to her mouth and she failed to contain her laughter. Its sound bubbled and drifted from the sitting room to where Darcy sat being shaved. His eyes opened and he smiled.
“Sir.” Adams said patiently.
“Ah, yes.” Darcy schooled his features and tried to maintain a smooth countenance when Elizabeth’s voice lowered and an imitation of his own floated through the door.
“Here I stand in cap and gown, stolid merchant of this town.
What’s before me, shall restore me; hourglass hurry on the time!
Heartbeat pounding, hope resounding, as I await the wedding chime!”
Darcy sighed and bit back his smile as she continued in her own lilting voice,
“Here I am, my face is plain, rouge would ply its charm in vain.
Jesus heed me-Does he need me? What is running through his head?
Dowry offers for his coffers, can he love me as he said?”
Adams chuckled this time and when Darcy’s eyes met his, he shrugged. Back came the male voice,
“Here she comes with veil in place, would that I could see her face!
Oh I’ve missed her, never kissed her; since the day when first we spoke.
Wife I’ll make her, I would take her, had she nothing but her cloak!”
“Good man, that.” Adams said appreciatively as he swiped off the last of the whiskers. Darcy held up his hand to silence him and both men paused to listen as Elizabeth’s true voice resumed,
“Here I stand, before our God, hand in hand, I find it odd.
World is shifting, him I’m gifting, with my life and all I be!
And in his eyes, I recognise; that he has honest love for me.”
Darcy stood and smiled, drawing a deep satisfied breath, and slipping on his coat, walked to the sitting room where he stood and watched her writing in her journal. She finished her scratching and sang the end of her song,
“Here we are, we’ve made our vows, ahead is all that love allows.
Joy is winging, our hearts singing, though we’re plain and middle aged.
Bells are pealing, live revealing, beauty found in every page.”11
Moving behind her, he rested his hands on her shoulders and kissed her throat. She rested back against his chest while he reached forward to move the journal so that he could read.
2 October 1810
My dear Fitzwilliam has reached another birthday this morning, and he impatiently awaits his gift. What could it be, I wonder? He seems to think it is a gift of love, well so it shall be, but what form will it take? He thinks it should be of a physical nature. So like a man, thinking of his pleasure, does he not know that the celebration of his birth should be one of celebrating life? Hardly an occasion for la petit mort, as the French so happily describe that moment of absolute release. That joyous, shattering, melting moment when our hearts and bodies sing and are joined together in … oh, but I digress. Pleasure, he speaks of pleasure. Will he not find pleasure in the sound of our daughter’s giggle? The joy of the musician’s songs, or the conversation and company of our dearest friends and family? No? Selfish man. What do you anticipate, love? You speak of that kiss, that one you adore, is it the kiss to your lips or the one to your … oh, that is the one, the one you desire? Is it truly so rarely bestowed or is it that you crave it so much? What else shall I kiss, love? You will tell me, will you not? You will whisper and take my hands, show me what you want me to touch, and I will take care of you, I will love you, today and always.
Darcy stood absolutely still and silent. His grip on Elizabeth’s shoulders tightened, and he bent to gently kiss then rest his face against her cheek. She heard an unsteady intake of breath and suddenly he let go and bellowed, “How woman, how do you expect me to survive the remains of this day? Do you know what you say when you write these things? Do you? You are no naive child anymore; you are not a blushing bride!” Darcy turned her around and kissed her hard. “Tease!” He stamped out of the door and down the stairs, the music of her laughter followed him all the way, and when he reached his study, he took a deep breath and looked up at the landing to smile widely before turning and closing the door.
CAROLINE STARED FROM THE WINDOW of the tea room and watched the stream of shoppers as they slowly wandered down Bond Street. She sipped her tea and made comments to herself, waiting for her husband to return from the conversation he was holding with an acquaintance in the corner. Her gaze came to rest on the long overcoat of a very tall man, his broad shoulders and trim waist made her sigh. Then as her eyes travelled down to his backside, he turned, his unbuttoned coat opening with the movement, and she was treated to a view of his muscular thighs, encased in tight, well-tailored breeches. “Oh my.” She breathed. Before she could catch his face, he turned again, and held out his elbow to a small woman, dressed impeccably in the latest of fashion. “Naturally, he is married.” She glanced down at her glove to see the outline of her ring beneath the fabric. “So am I.”
Robinson’s voice cut across the room and she studied him for a moment. He was not without his looks; he wore his clothes well, and certainly was enthusiastic in their bed, always wishing to try something new, undoubtedly something that he learned from his various courtesans. It was only once or twice a week, she could not complain, and if her suspicions were correct, that would be ending for some time, as well. Again her eyes moved to spot the couple across the street. A carriage passed and after it had moved on, she gasped. The couple had turned towards each other and she witnessed a slow smile lighting the man’s face, and a gloved hand covering the woman’s mouth as she laughed. “Mr. Darcy.” She whispered. Darcy took his wife’s hand and wrapped it around his arm. She leaned onto his shoulder and they entered the bookshop they had been examining. When they disappeared, she deflated and jumped when Robinson sat down.
“Took you by surprise?” He laughed and picked up his cup, took a sip and made a face. “Cold!”
“Oh. I had not noticed.” She saw his surprise. “I was watching the people passing.”
“Hmm.” He signalled for fresh water and watched the foot traffic. “Anyone of interest out there?”
“No.” She looked at the bookshop. “Nobody at all.” They finished their tea and Robinson was a
bout to pay the bill when he noticed her sit up. Following her gaze, he looked across the street to see Elizabeth emerge from the shop and turn with a smile to see Darcy ducking his head down so that he could exit the low door. He was carrying a small package, but still managed to hold it and take his wife’s hand to place on his arm. Displaying the package, he smiled and bent to speak in her ear, then they continued on their way, only to disappear into a pastry shop.
“Nobody at all.” He snorted and she looked quickly away from the window. “Did I tell you I received a letter from Hurst?”
“No, but I suppose it was more of the same, a count of fish and birds taken, and a list of towns they had visited.” She sniffed. “Such a waste of money. I find it difficult to believe that Louisa is having as fine a time as she claims.”
“Perhaps not, but she will certainly enjoy her Christmas plans.”
“Oh, and what god-forsaken Irish town will they choose to visit?”
“I am not sure exactly what town it is near, but they will be spending several weeks at Pemberley before returning here for the little Season.” He saw her choke on the biscuit she was nibbling. “It seems that Darcy is welcoming them with open arms.”
Caroline coughed. “What!”
“Imagine that.” He smirked and stood. “Too bad it is the beginning of the orange season or I might propose that we join them.” He walked to the doorway and rolled his eyes at her continued immobility. “Mrs. Robinson. Are you coming?”
She stood and wiped the crumbs from her gown. “Yes, Mr. Robinson.” When they passed the pastry shop she peered in the window in time to see Elizabeth laughingly feeding a spoonful of ice cream to Darcy, and his barely contained smile. Feeling her husband laughing at her, she coloured and looking straight ahead, kept walking.