Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice)

by Wells, Linda

  Mary glared at the girl as she took de Bourgh’s hand and barely acknowledged her own partner. De Bourgh was too busy glaring at Moffet to notice, and quickly stepped wrong. “Forgive me.” He murmured and blushing looked up to see a glint of satisfaction in Mary’s eyes. His brow rose and when they had to change partners, he leaned to her ear. “You look pleased to see me trip. Not ladylike at all.”

  “Why would I wish you to perform well with her?”

  “Because you think well of me?” He asked and they separated, back to their original partners. He glanced at Mary to see that her feelings had been hurt and he sighed, wishing he could take his chastisement back. Instead he found that Edwina was talking and he had no idea what she was saying. Noticing Lady Matlock staring at him from the side, he endeavoured to pay at least cursory attention to her.

  “Do tell me about your estate!” She gushed.

  “It is adequate for my needs.” He said at last and noticed that Mary had looked up to him when he spoke. He danced, but directed his speech towards Mary. “It is adequate but lacks much.”

  “Lacks?” Edwina laughed. “Why then why do you not buy whatever is missing?”

  “What is missing cannot be bought.” He said softly as he turned Edwina but passed Mary. “What is missing can only be found.”

  “You speak in riddles, sir.” Edwina laughed. “Are you fond of games? I love spending evenings playing charades and cards.”

  “I prefer conversation.” De Bourgh said positively towards Mary, who blushed.

  “Miss Bennet, I have been talking and talking, and yet I have heard so little from you!” Moffet urged her. “Do tell me of all these protective relatives who have been dancing with you. That gentleman there said it was mostly family tonight, do you not wish to dance with more suitors?”

  “Are you a suitor, sir?” She said softly as he beamed and hopped.

  “I suppose I might be!” He laughed. “You are related to Mrs. Darcy?”

  “She is my sister.” Mary admitted.

  “Excellent, excellent!”

  “Why so excellent?” She demanded. “Is it my connections that you like?”

  “I would be a fool to ignore them.” He said honestly. “But you are a pretty girl, too. Clearly you have caught the eye of the few who have been permitted past the relatives.”

  “They were all very kind.”

  “And I?”

  “I suppose that you are kind in your way.”

  “That does not sound promising at all.” He frowned. “I must do better. What do you wish for in the way of kindness?”

  Mary looked at him then at de Bourgh, who was once again focussed on her. “I believe that honest expression of feelings and opinion are much kinder than one who dances around, leaving the subject of his conversation waiting and wondering when he will get to the point.”

  “Perhaps the person leading the discussion is unsure of his reception, particularly when he sees that she is enjoying greatly conversation with others.” De Bourgh spoke as he held Edwina’s arm.

  “Pardon?” Edwina asked in confusion.

  “Perhaps the person is enjoying the conversation, but is wishing all along that it was a different party she was speaking with. Perhaps she has no choice but to make the best of the situation she has been dealt, through no fault of her own.”

  “Pardon?” Moffet asked. “Are you talking to me?” He looked to see her focus on de Bourgh. “I say, sir. Keep to your own!”

  “Sound advice.” De Bourgh nodded and meeting Mary’s eyes, he saw her blush and look down. “I will indeed keep to what is mine from now on.” The song ended and before the second set began, he bowed to Edwina. “Miss Kendall? May I introduce you to Mr ….”

  “Moffet.” Mary offered.

  “Ah, yes. Moffet, Miss Kendall.” He held out his hand to Mary. “Miss Bennet?” Smiling, she took his hand and he led her away.

  Moffet stared at Edwina. “What happened, there?”

  “No idea.” She looked after de Bourgh regretfully then to Moffet. “Have you an estate, Mr. Moffet?”

  “In time.” He grinned. The music resumed and they began to dance.

  Darcy and Elizabeth watched de Bourgh lead Mary determinedly through the crowd. “Well, should we do something? That was very improper to leave their partners like that.”

  “I suppose that he can claim ignorance, and their abandoned partners seem rather happy with the change.” She looked up at him and he laughed. “I think that he vowed not to propose to her here.”

  “But Mousie, thou art no thy lane, in proving foresight may be in vain; the best-laid schemes o’mice an ‘men gang aft agley.”2 Darcy’s eyes twinkled as she laughed at his terrible brogue, and completely forgetting himself, he drew Elizabeth against his chest and stood facing forward with her, his hands loosely around her waist, resting over her belly, and hers lightly on top of his fingers. “I hope that whatever his plans, they are happier than that of the poor mouse.”

  “Lizzy!” Jane whispered and looked pointedly at their position.

  “Oh.” She blushed and they separated, but only so that Darcy stood with his hand on her back, with his fingers curved over her waist. “Mary has disappeared with Peter.”

  “So we noticed.” Lucas laughed and tilted his head towards the door. “Who is chaperoning?”

  Darcy’s gaze swept the room. “Nobody.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What do you think?” Jane bit her lip. “Should we find them?”

  “No.” Darcy said softly. “It is in their hands. But the final dance approaches.”

  “And he has waited all night for it.” Elizabeth pointed out.

  The two couples stood without speaking, Lucas assumed a pose that mirrored Darcy’s. The strains of the musicians beginning the final set filled the air and they made their way over to the floor to dance, joining the rest of the family. Darcy nudged Lucas, who smiled and nudged Richard. The message passed down the line as de Bourgh, grasping Mary’s hand and hurrying, took the last place in line. Mary, flushed and looking everywhere but at the faces of the women staring at her, took her place across from him.

  “What are they staring at?” Mary whispered when she took de Bourgh’s hands.

  “I think that they are expecting some sort of news.” He laughed and his eyes crinkled in a happy smile.

  “News?” She bit her lip and giggled. “Shall we keep them guessing?”

  “That is cruel, my dear Mary.”

  “I may be many things, but I am never cruel, Peter.” She smiled as they stepped perfectly together. “Your dancing is much improved from our first set.”

  “I think that is because I have been assured of a steady partner.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Thank you for giving me confidence.”

  “All you needed to do was ask.”

  DARCY CLOSED THE DOOR to the bedchamber behind him and watched Elizabeth slowly walk towards her dressing room. The fatigue she had fought all evening was at last showing. Pulling his neck cloth apart, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt while walking towards her, crossing in a few strides the short distance she had managed. Darcy’s hands fell on her waist and he stopped her, pulling her back and turning her around. “We should have left hours ago. I am sorry.”

  “No, no. I am fine, truly.” Elizabeth lied as tears began to slip down her cheeks. “I am just so very tired.”

  “Lean on me.” Darcy ordered and quickly, he unbuttoned her gown, and let it slip down to the floor. He smiled as her eyes closed and he ran his hands over her bare skin, then up to begin plucking out the diamond-topped pins, gathering them in his fist and, with a stretch, managing to drop them into a porcelain dish sitting on the table near their bed. She was nearly asleep when he untied her stays, and lifting her, carried her to the bed, the covers already turned down. There he removed her slippers and stockings, leaving her in nothing more than the sheer chemise. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her and caressing her hair. “I love you, Lizz
y.” A small smile appeared and he smiled in return, she was not quite asleep yet. Leaning down, he kissed her lips and her cheek, then ran his hands down to rest over her belly. He left them there, wondering about the baby within, who it would one day be, and if that baby could possibly make him feel more than he already did with Rosalie. Bending down he kissed her warm skin. “Hello, my child,” he whispered. “This is Papa. Be kind to your Mama.” He kissed again and then moved to her mouth where he very tenderly kissed her lips, and thrilled in her sleepy, sensuous response. “Oh Lizzy, even in your dreams you make me desperate for you.” Gently he disengaged her arms from his neck, and rising to his feet, covered her. “I will not be long, love.” Smiling, he walked off to the dressing room, gathering her gown to lay over a chair on his way, and undressed. Some minutes later he returned, blowing out the candles and climbing in behind her, spooned his body to hers. He kissed her shoulder and she snuggled back against him.

  “Will?”

  “Yes, love?”

  “Thank you.”

  Darcy chuckled and rested his face on her pillow. “You are welcome. How do you feel?”

  “I think that I am just tired.” She yawned and his brow creased. “That must be all.”

  “Lizzy?” No answer. “Lizzy?” She was fast asleep. Darcy listened to her familiar steady breathing, analyzed every nuance of her voice, every expression that he had seen that night, and finally decided that he was being ridiculous and decided to wait for morning to ask what she meant. “You must be tired, love. Not to want to speak of Mary.” Settling his head back on her pillow, he laid his hands over the baby and closed his eyes. “Sleep well, dearest.”

  LUCAS LAY ON HIS BACK and stared up at the canopy, then lifted Jane’s hand to his lips. “That was wonderful.” He sighed happily. “Who knew that lovemaking was possible without having to wait for the snoring of parents and siblings to fill the air?”

  “It is not that bad.” Jane laughed and turned on her side to face him. “It only seems that way.”

  “I suppose. It is just so frustrating, everything is. I have thought of moving us out.”

  “Out?” She stared at him. “Where?”

  “I do not know, rent a home …”

  “And use up all that you have saved?” Jane shook her head, thinking of her parents. “No, that is our children’s future.”

  “What children?” He chuckled and drew her close to rest against his chest. “Oh Jane, I just … It grates on me, having to wait for father to die to really make our home ours. I feel like a ghoul. And working is out of the question, Father is determined to have a gentleman son.”

  “But the boys will be in trade …”

  “I once considered leasing Netherfield, but I could not afford it. I thought of buying it, too, but again, I would have to convince father to sell Lucas Lodge and that would not come to a quarter of the value of Netherfield.”

  “There is nothing wrong with Lucas Lodge.” Jane said sternly. “And every other first son must live at home with his parents.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “Darcy did not.”

  “I think that he would love to have his parents alive and still be living on an allowance.” Jane kissed him and he smiled. “Now tell me, why did you feel so defensive tonight when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Harwick visited? Surely you did not feel …”

  “Jane, a man is an odd beast. Even if he knows there is no possibility of losing his woman to another, he will always be unreasonably jealous of any man she may have once considered, and being a man, I also know that those men once considered being in this exact position that I am now.” He smiled at her wide eyes. “Yes, they did.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I won.”

  “I am not a prize.”

  “Oh yes, dear Jane, you are.” He rolled over to face her. “Are you sleepy?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” He kissed her. “Neither am I.”

  MARY LAY IN HER BED, staring out of the window at the moonlit night. It would be dawn in only a few hours, and she had no desire to sleep. “Are you sleeping, Peter?” She whispered.

  “Are you sleeping, Mary?” Peter wondered and putting down his candle, sat in a large chair by the fireplace in his bedchamber. He stared at the enormous empty bed and closed his eyes. “All I had to do is ask.” He smiled. “Well, I did.”

  Will you do me the honour of accepting me as your husband? Mary blushed and hid her burning cheeks in her pillow. “Oh please, let that be the reason you asked to speak to me tomorrow!”

  “Why did I not propose tonight?” He wondered to himself. “I certainly wanted to, when I took her hand and ran from the ballroom, that was the driving force in my mind. Too many strangers danced with her. Too many of them won her smile. But … I want it to be special, memorable, not blurted out like some pimply-faced, adolescent on his first dance with a maid!” He sighed and sank back in his chair, imagining where they had stood and talked, then imagining another conversation. “Tell us the story of proposing to Mama, did you really do it behind a Grecian urn? Was it really in the most public, noisy, miserable place you could imagine? Did you really say it so fast that she stared at you in shock, not because she didn’t want the proposal, but because you were unintelligible?” He smiled, imagining a dark haired boy standing by his chair. “Yes, Son, it is true, your father, a man who has faced pirates and war, who spent more years at sea than on land, was rendered hopeless when faced with your mother’s smile.” He looked to the bed and laughed. “Son. Well maybe someday. I need to kiss her first.” Stretching out his legs he rested his hands over his lap. “No, no sudden proposal for you, my Mary. No rushing off to secure you in fear of someone else taking you away. I have no such fears for us anymore. I want it to be right, I want the story of our engagement to be sweet, something that my wife can reflect upon when we are old and look at me with a smile. I was tempted, but I was strong. Tomorrow, dear Mary.”

  “I think that it was on the tip of his tongue,” Mary smiled and hugged her pillow, looking out into the night, “but my captain will wait until he may ask me properly. Very well, then. Good night, Peter. I love you.”

  “Good night, Mary.” He stood and leaned on the window frame. “I love you.”

  Chapter 7

  Darcy opened his eyes, from the position of the sun he knew it was approaching noon; it had been a very late night. Elizabeth was right where he had left her, curled against him, her bottom firmly pressed against his groin. Closing his arms around her, he kissed her head and hugged her to him. “Dearest?

  “Good morning.” She whispered.

  “How do you feel, love?” His lips settled below her ear, and he caressed her breasts. “Better?”

  “Not yet.”

  Disappointed, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on her shoulder, and touched the slight bulge in her waist. “How may I help you?” Elizabeth rolled over to face him, and he laughed when she quickly pulled back the covers to examine the treasure she now held firmly in her grip. “Perhaps I should rephrase that.”

  “Perhaps you should just kiss me.”

  “I am afraid that kisses will not be enough.” Rubbing her shoulders, he captured her mouth.

  “Oh, I see.” Elizabeth draped her leg over his hip, and they slipped together. “There.” She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. “That is all better.”

  “It certainly is.” Darcy growled and proceeded to love his wife.

  “Oh!” Millie stopped at the door to the master’s bedchamber and heard their voices, the sighs and laughter, and the unmistakable steady creak of the bed. Immediately she returned to the mistress’ chambers. Mrs. Mercer entered and looked around.

  “Mrs. Darcy?”

  “Occupied.” Millie blushed.

  “I see.” Mrs. Mercer smiled and glanced into the sitting room to the door beyond. “I suppose that it will be some time.”

  “Well …”

  “No need to agree. However, I am left with no clear dire
ction. Captain de Bourgh just arrived, and wishes to see Miss Mary.”

  “The Lucas’ …”

  “Occupied.” Mrs. Mercer said with pursed lips.

  “Oh.”

  “By the look in his eye, I would say that the captain is most anxious to conduct this interview.”

  “Oh!” Millie smiled. “It’s about time.”

  “No doubt.” The two exchanged looks and then both turned their heads at the sound of delighted laughter coming from the master’s chambers, followed by their voices calling out expressions of love. Mrs. Mercer stepped forward and quickly closed the door to the sitting room. “Well, perhaps I could let Miss Mary know that he is here, she is awake, I understand.”

  “It would be a shame for her to have to wait.” Millie nodded. “I am sure that a chaperone is not necessary.”

  “Well, what you are sure about and what Mr. Darcy is sure about are two different things. I will alert Mrs. Somers, she may sit with them.” She smiled. “Discretely.” Mrs. Mercer glanced at the closed door, and set off down the hallway, smiling and shaking her head when she passed the door to the Darcys’ room, then stopping to knock on Mary’s door, where she spoke to her maid. Receiving a reply, she moved on to the sitting room where de Bourgh stood by the window, staring out at the park. His hands were clasped behind his back; his stance was at rest, looking for all the world like a man calmly watching the prow of his ship cutting through the roiling sea. “Sir?” He straightened and turned, fixing his gaze on the housekeeper. “Miss Mary is the only family member awake …” His body stiffened. “However, she felt that her sister and brother would not object to her entertaining you with her companion present. She will be along shortly; shall I call for some tea for you?”

  “Yes, yes that would be …welcome. Thank you.” De Bourgh let out a slightly shaking breath and turned back to the window, resuming his watch.

  “Very good, sir.” Mrs. Mercer pursed her lips, checked quickly over the state of the room, and before leaving, noted that his hands were tightly gripping each other. “Very good.”