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

by Wells, Linda

  “No, he called her pretty, if I am not mistaken.” Layton leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. “What do you think, Darcy?”

  “I did not hear it, but if either one of you said anything untoward about my sister, I am afraid that I will have to defend her honour. And win.” He smiled widely and was met by laughter and hands clapped on his back.

  “Good to see you alive again, Cousin.” Fitzwilliam grinned. “I have missed your sorry voice.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled. “Where is Lucas?”

  “In the ball room, I suspect, trying to get a head start. Our wives would kill us if they knew we were going to be duelling.”

  “Elizabeth knows, but she will not give you away, as long as we can be dressed and look fairly clean by the time they return, we will be fine.”

  “Helen would strangle me.” Lord Matlock murmured as they walked to the back of the house, past the billiards room to the wide open space of the ballroom.

  “How many foils do you own, Darcy?” Layton looked over the fine collection with awe. “These are magnificent!”

  “I suppose it was my one vice. I collected a few of them on the continent, won a few, inherited a few …” He picked one up. “But this is my favourite.”

  “Simple.” Lord Matlock took it in hand, feeling the balance and slicing the air, and looked at his nephew. “Exceptional.”

  “Father’s.” He smiled and took it back. “A gift upon graduation.”

  “Well then, shall we?” Lord Matlock smiled at Layton, who was already without his coat. “Eager, Son?”

  “Scared to death.” Layton looked at Lucas. “How long since you fenced?”

  “Cambridge.”

  “You fight me, then. We will be even.”

  “Ahhh, and that leaves we three.” Fitzwilliam smiled at de Bourgh and Darcy.

  “Ahem.” Lord Matlock took off his coat and started unbuttoning his waistcoat. “I will take on any one of you boys.”

  “Father …”

  “You first.” Lord Matlock pointed and removed his shirt, then picked up a foil, swinging it around while he limbered up. “Or are you frightened of your old papa, Richard?”

  “No, sir.” Fitzwilliam glanced at Darcy who was smiling at his boots, and started unbuttoning his uniform as bets began to be laid. “I want some of that.” He called.

  “Are you certain? Your soldier’s salary …”

  “Your baiting me will not help when it is your turn to face me, Darcy.” Fitzwilliam growled.

  “Oh, but you will be beaten by your Father.” Darcy snorted.

  “And you, near Brother, will go down by me.” De Bourgh stretched and pulled off his shirt. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

  Darcy grinned. “Just wait until it is your daughters, and I will laugh at you.”

  “Good Lord.” The six men turned to find Bingley at the door. “What is going on here?”

  “Do you fence?” Layton demanded.

  “Well, yes …” He said cautiously.

  “Good!” Lucas tossed him a foil and he barely caught it. “You can be the tie breaker.”

  “I am going to die.” Bingley whispered, and shaking his head, added his money to the pot and started removing his clothes. “Serves me right, come here for a little advice and what does it get me?”

  “Advice?” Fitzwilliam grinned. “Female?”

  “What else is left to him?” Layton glanced his way and took a position opposite Lucas.

  “Speak up, Bingley!” Lord Matlock called. “En garde!” He stepped forward and took Fitzwilliam unawares.

  “Father!”

  Lord Matlock laughed. “Wake up, boy!”

  “HAVE WE ORDERED ENOUGH?” Mary said wearily and sank back down onto the sofa in the private showroom at Madame Dupree’s.

  “Oh, no.” Elizabeth smiled and handed her a cup of tea. “You are to be mistress of a great estate, I am afraid that you must dress the part.”

  “But I do not expect to be seen that much.”

  “Lizzy!” Kitty appeared with a salesgirl holding a bolt of fabric. “Look at this!”

  She sat up and examined the rich silk and lifted her brow. “It is lovely.”

  “I will be seventeen in August …” She looked at her hopefully. “Could we order some new things now?”

  “It would be so much fun!” Georgiana cried.

  “No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Not today.”

  “Why?” Kitty’s voice had a slight whine to it and Elizabeth, Mary, Jane, and Lady Matlock all fixed her with disapproving stares. Immediately she blushed. “Forgive me. This is Mary’s shopping trip, I was being selfish.”

  “Yes, you were.” Lady Matlock nodded. “I am glad to see that you corrected yourself. I would hate that your brother’s good money had been wasted at this Eton for girls you are attending.”

  “Yes, Lady Helen.” She hung her head and the salesgirl with the fabric disappeared. “I should just be happy for the day out.” She sat down and clasped her hands in her lap and Georgiana sat beside them. “Thank you for inviting us. Lydia sent a letter asking if we would go shopping with Mary for her wedding clothes. I thought you would start right away, but when we did not hear anything, we thought that you would go without us.”

  “The last week has been very busy, I am afraid.” Elizabeth said softly. Jane squeezed her hand and Mary smiled at her. “But all is calm now.”

  “Did you attend lots of balls?” Georgiana asked. “We have learned so many wonderful dances, but it is rather dull dancing amongst ourselves.”

  “Your time for dancing will come soon enough. Perhaps next season you may attend some private balls.” Lady Matlock looked at Elizabeth. “Not to dance, but to be seen.”

  “Oh I do not anticipate Fitzwilliam’s reaction to that notion.” Elizabeth smiled. “He is protective enough over you, Mary.”

  “Will he protect me, too?” Kitty asked.

  “Of course he will.” Elizabeth laughed. “And you will probably bemoan it when it happens.”

  “What else did Lydia say in her letter?” Jane asked and moved out of the way as another gown was carried in for Mary to try on.

  “She said she was getting on well with the girls, and Miss Edwards said if she continues to improve, she will give her some responsibilities next year if she returns.” Kitty watched as a lavender confection was slipped over Mary’s head. “Oh that is beautiful!”

  “Peter will love that.” Elizabeth smiled approvingly.

  Evangeline and Alicia appeared at the doorway of the crowded room. “Oh Mary, that is just the shade for you! Is that your wedding dress?”

  “I …no, I was going to wear blue.” She looked around. “Is this better?”

  “Has Peter ever expressed a preference for the colours you wear?”

  “All of them.” Mary bit her lip and they all laughed.

  “I love seeing a man so lost.” Alicia smiled. “I wonder at this meeting of the men that is happening at your home, Elizabeth. What were they up to, Lady Helen?”

  She studied Elizabeth’s pursed lips and said slowly, “I have no idea, Henry was eager to arrive and even more eager to wave us farewell. They are undoubtedly up to no good.” She looked Mary over. “A lower neckline, I think, dear.”

  “Oh …no!”

  “Elizabeth?”

  “I agree, just a little.” She smiled. “You have jewels to wear, and they must be seen against your skin.”

  “Jewels?” Mary looked at her pearls. “I only have this.”

  “Rosings is not just an estate Mary; it is the contents, as well. The de Bourgh jewels are yours. Did you not know that?”

  “No.” Mary’s hand went to her heart.

  “It is a vast collection, Lady Catherine was not good with keeping up the home, but she was quite happy to spend on jewels. Some are horrid, I would have them reset or better yet, sell them off and start anew.”

  “She lost everything?”

  “Down to the la
st silver teaspoon in the butler’s pantry.” Lady Matlock said with satisfaction. “Justice served.”

  “No wonder she wished for Fitzwilliam to marry her daughter.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Could her husband have provided her with better circumstances?”

  “Of course he could.” Lady Matlock sniffed. “He chose not to.” Her gaze swept the room and rested on Georgiana and Kitty. “The settlement is very important ladies. This is why we do not elope.”

  “Yes, Aunt.”

  “Yes, Lady Helen.”

  “Do you think that they might?” Evangeline laughed. “Have you a gentleman hidden away, Georgiana? Will you elope at the tender age of fifteen?” The rest of the ladies laughed at the thought and Georgiana blushed.

  “I know better than that.”

  “Good girl.” Elizabeth smiled. Another gown arrived and they watched as it was fitted on. “Fitzwilliam considered letting you go to Ramsgate this summer with Mrs. Somers.”

  “He did?” Georgiana gasped.

  “Yes, for about as long as it took him to read your letter, and he said no, vehemently and quickly. I am sorry.” She smiled to see her and Kitty’s sigh. “Some other year.”

  “Could you talk to him? All of our friends …”

  “I agreed.”

  “Oh.”

  “Quite right, Elizabeth.” Lady Matlock nodded.

  “So it is Pemberley with us or Longbourn, at least for you, Kitty.”

  “Pemberley.” The girls said together.

  “Well that was simple.” Lady Matlock smiled. “Will you stay the rest of the Season, Elizabeth?”

  “No.” She smiled and looked at her hands. “We want to go home.”

  “HOME ADVANTAGE.” Darcy bowed and watched as the winnings were moved to his pile. Lucas marked the paper and looked over to where Fitzwilliam stood panting.

  “Darcy and de Bourgh, next up.” The two men exchanged assessing glances, each were soaked with sweat and possessed more than one mark from a lesser opponents’ misstep.

  “Ale?” Darcy indicated the tray.

  “Why not?” De Bourgh picked up a tankard and drained it, while Darcy took a sip. “Drink up, don’t think you’ll have the bladder advantage over me.” The ballroom echoed with the low rumble of their laughter.

  “I am tired.” Fitzwilliam bent over to stretch his back and groaned. “Lord, I am tired!”

  “Excellent, I am next with you, then.” Layton grinned and assumed a stance before his crumpled brother. “En garde!”

  “Shut up, Stephen.”

  “Father whipped you.” Layton dropped his foil. “Amazing.”

  “I won, might I point out.”

  “Yes, and you are dying and he is gulping down the ale.” He pointed at their father laughing in the corner. “Come now, was it really that bad, or did you let him do well?” Fitzwilliam looked up at him and winked. Layton snorted. “So it was Darcy who beat you down?”

  “I plead my wounds.” Fitzwilliam bent over again and found an extended hand before him. Looking up he saw his cousin smiling and holding out a fresh tankard. Laughing softly, he took the hand, straightened, and wiped the sweat from his brow. “You really missed your calling. You would be a damn fine officer, Darcy.”

  “You have said that before.” He handed him the drink. “Thank you.”

  “So, Bingley.” Lord Matlock slapped his bare shoulder and he jumped with the sting. “Woman troubles?”

  “Not exactly.” He rubbed the handprint. “Robinson.”

  “Cretin.” Fitzwilliam growled and took a long pull on the ale. “Brought home another girl?”

  “No, no … And by the way, my sister knows nothing of it.”

  “I assure you, man, I have no intention of seeking her out.”

  They chuckled and Bingley sighed. “He is running into trouble with his suppliers, the groves, the war … I do not know exactly, but it seems that he is considering a journey to Spain.”

  “Fool thing to do.” De Bourgh shook his head. “I would not enjoy going that way in a fully outfitted battleship.”

  “Lost your nerve?” Fitzwilliam nudged him.

  “Better things to live for now.” The men exchanged glances and nodded.

  “Well, foolish or no, he is talking about going, and returning with the first crop in December.” Bingley sighed. “If he arrives, if he survives, and if there is a ship to bring him back at the end.”

  “Idiot. He has an estate, go live there for a year or so, live on that income and write off his oranges until the war is over.”

  “When will that be?” Lucas asked.

  Silence reigned and Bingley cleared his throat to regain their attention. “Caroline wants to go with him.”

  “Why?” Darcy shook his head. “No place for her, she wants the comforts of her station …and beyond.”

  “You have that right.” Fitzwilliam gestured with his ale. “No place for the likes of her.”

  “I know, I know, but she claims that all the ladies of the first circles have seen the world. As long as they are in the area, she wants Rome, Venice … all the proper sights. Who knows, maybe even India.” He rolled his eyes. “There is a reason why I went on a grand tour of Scotland and Ireland!”

  “He told her no, did he not?” Lord Matlock crossed his arms and saw Bingley’s shaking head. “He is mad!”

  “He is tired of her moaning.” Bingley sighed. “I do not know, but the baby will be left behind.”

  “Well there is some sense then.”

  “With Louisa and Hurst. She is delighted and is practically packing their trunks for them.” Bingley smiled a little with the laughter. “In any case, Robinson asked me to run his estate for him in his absence.”

  “What of Netherfield?”

  “That is just it, I … I have a lease.”

  “Not signed?”

  “Well, reserved, I sign before I take possession in September.” Bingley looked at Darcy. “The estate is thirty-five miles from Pemberley.”

  “Oh.” Darcy smiled. “I see.”

  “Smaller than Longbourn, or about the same size, I am not sure, but …” He looked at his hands. “What do I do? I would appreciate anyone’s advice.”

  “He has a steward who runs it now?”

  “It is leased for the summer, then he lives there in the autumn until the crop comes in, there is a good steward, yes.”

  “So Netherfield is a bigger estate …” Lord Matlock mused. “Well, you own neither in the end.”

  “But I could own Netherfield.”

  “Why would he ask you to do this? From what I’ve heard, you are hardly close.” De Bourgh asked. “Does he have family? Brothers?”

  “No, his entire family was wiped out with illness that swept through the area where he grew up. They leased their rooms, so he went to live with his grandparents; they are gone now, too. All he has is Caroline and Wallace.” The men grew quiet. “I suppose that explains a little of his detachment towards his son and his willingness to take Caroline with him.”

  Darcy grew thoughtful. “I think that his insistence that Wallace be left in your sister and brother’s care is because he is not detached. I also have a feeling that he is more possessive of Mrs. Robinson than he will ever let on.”

  “Despite his questionable behaviour?” Bingley asked.

  “He is not that much different from many.” Layton said softly and caught his father’s nod.

  “I do not know what to do. I want to help my family, but I want to pursue my plans.” Bingley again looked at Darcy; clearly other thoughts were on his mind.

  “You do not need to decide this moment, do you?” Darcy asked. “We can discuss this tomorrow, when we are better dressed? All of the concerns you have?”

  “I … yes, Darcy, I would appreciate that.”

  “Good.” He smiled and looked at de Bourgh. “Ready?”

  “Oh, yes. I have been waiting for this all morning.” They set down their tankards and picked up their foils. “En gar
de.” De Bourgh snarled, and the last match was on.

  WITH A FLURRY OF CONVERSATION, the ladies climbed down from the two coaches and entered Darcy House. “Mrs. Darcy.” Foster bowed. “Luncheon can be served at any time.”

  “Thank you, how are the gentlemen?”

  “They are … I believe that they are nearly finished, madam.” He glanced at the now very focussed attention of seven sets of eyes. He cleared his throat.

  “I see.” Elizabeth’s eyes were sparkling, but she turned back to the others. “I will just go look in on the gentlemen, please go and refresh yourselves …”

  “Elizabeth. What are our husbands doing?” Lady Matlock demanded. “I thought that they were giving gentlemanly advice to Peter.”

  “Advice?” Mary looked at Lady Matlock and then to Elizabeth.

  “I suspect that the advice has been dispensed by now and they are relaxing.” She pursed her lips. From the rear of the house, a loud roar of men’s voices sounded. “And enjoying the experience.”

  “Lizzy?” Mary asked softly when she heard another cheer and the sound of steel. “They are fencing?”

  “I am afraid so.”

  “Oh no, Richard!” Evangeline started hurrying down the hallway and Elizabeth passed her and held her hands up. “Ladies, they are just letting go some high spirits and,” She glanced at Georgiana and Kitty. “Fitzwilliam truly needed this.”

  “You knew?”

  “It is fencing, Alicia, not visiting gin palaces!” Elizabeth sighed.

  “Oh, but Stephen is not that good.” Alicia said seriously.

  “Henry surely would not … Oh Lord!” Lady Matlock’s hand went to her mouth. “Mrs. Darcy … MOVE!”

  Shaking her head, Elizabeth led the way to the ballroom. “You have no senses of humour. Now I will just check on them, you stay here.” The door was ajar and she peeked around the corner. Darcy and de Bourgh were deeply absorbed in the fight, their foils flashed with lightening speed, forward, back, thrust, parry, spin. Elizabeth sighed, watching her husband’s finely toned body, his skilled delivery, the intense focussed gaze. Fitzwilliam, you are a beautiful man.

  “Touché!” Bingley called.

  “Come on de Bourgh, you can take him!” Layton urged.

  “Do not let me down, Son!” Lord Matlock cried. “Not in my sister’s home!”