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

by Wells, Linda

  “That is because she is one of the unique ones.” Lucas pointed out.

  “Well, yes and I thought of other women I know who are unique. And I told her that I am not so quick to judge.” Bingley’s chin was up and he was staring rather determinedly ahead. Darcy’s brow rose and he contained the laugh that was itching to come out. Lucas snorted. “And then she said something that gave me pause.”

  “Which was?”

  “That society is quick to judge, and that I should be very careful with any decisions I make about my future.”

  “Food for thought.” Darcy said slowly. “She speaks from experience, of course. She is being scrutinized and watches her every move even more carefully than a young woman who is simply following the rules of propriety to find a mate. She is probably defensive as well as careful.”

  “That is painfully true and rather sad.” Bingley agreed.

  Darcy was silent for a few moments, “But then again, even if her manner is subdued or careful, you should still be able to discern her nature and decide if you like it. So going back to her statement about differences in character, a woman can have all of the beauty, accomplishment, and manner of the idealized mate that we have been taught to desire and require, and still be lacking in that certain indefinable extra that makes her very presence necessary for you to breathe.”

  “Quite dramatic, Darcy. Were you looking for the unique flower in the meadow?” Bingley smiled and noticed Lucas was looking away and chuckling.

  “I did not look at all; she simply appeared one fortunate day.” He smiled and shrugged. “As you have said, you have things to think about. No hurry.”

  “No.” Bingley smiled and feeling better, focussed on the horizon. “No hurry at all.”

  30 APRIL 1811

  The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity, and frankly I will be glad to see it end. Our dinners with friends have been memorable and enjoyable, but the only fondness I feel for the balls were the few precious dances I had with Elizabeth. Even if I could claim every set it would not be enough. She positively glows, I do not know why, but I drink it in. Perhaps it is the joy she feels seeing Mary so happy. I feel it as well, but Elizabeth and Jane, they know all too well the lonely life our sister endured and to see her now with de Bourgh eagerly hovering around her is glorious. I laugh when I think of how I had to once convince her to accept the slightest embrace from me. Now I nearly have to pry her and de Bourgh apart each time I enter a room they have occupied alone for more than a minute! Very well, perhaps I exaggerate, but they certainly do blend easily together.

  Bingley has become increasingly amusing as he wanders the pitfalls of the Season. How many times have I been approached for my honest opinion of him by various fathers? How many young ladies have put themselves before him after my endorsement is heard? I apologize to you, Bingley, but I know that you take it with good humour. I am sorry though that of all the ladies you dance with, the one you would prefer is not able to attend the same events. I hope that the relative freedom you will find in the country will answer the questions that arise every time you do happen to meet, no matter how brief the conversation.

  We continue to await some decision by Robinson regarding his proposed journey to Spain. Bingley and Hurst will confront him tomorrow instead of travelling to Epsom with us. I regret losing his company, the Derby just will not be the same without his cheerful presence, but I wish him well.

  Darcy closed the journal and set down his pen. Then, thoughtfully, he picked up the one journal of his father’s that dated from the time after his mother’s death, and turned the pages absentmindedly. These words were from the time that he was nearly an adult, almost a graduate of Cambridge. He felt his father’s pride for him every time his name was mentioned. He read of events that were clearly etched in his memory and was curious how his perception of them differed from his father’s. One entry made him pause and close his eyes, and wishing to move away from it, he flipped the pages backwards and lighted on another.

  7 April 1806

  Today we returned to London from Rosings, one more Easter has come and gone. This year I think was particularly difficult for Fitzwilliam. His days at Cambridge are nearly over, and I know that Catherine’s patience is at an end. She has been waiting for his graduation like the greedy spider she is, hoping to ensnare my son into her scheme. No Catherine, no. My boy will not marry Anne unless he does it of his own free will and by his own desire. I can feel your almost gleeful anticipation, hoping to pounce upon him. I heard your endless dissertations on family and preserving the wealth. It did not fall on deaf ears, as you supposed. I heard you. Fitzwilliam heard you; and you nigh scared the boy to death! He shot looks at his cousin, who was staring at him in a manner that frighteningly resembled possession, and I could feel him trying to make himself smaller, quite a feat for such a large man. No, my son will not be your prize Catherine. Something is not right with Anne. She may be my niece but she will never be my daughter!

  “Thank heaven for that.” Darcy mused, “Thank you for sending me off on my journey not so long afterwards.” He could hear Elizabeth singing from her dressing room and stopped for a moment, closing his eyes to listen closely to her song, and then smiling, he thought of her coming to him the night before wearing nothing but a garland of pearls. He imagined her so dressed, reclining back in the long grass of their glade, dappled sunlight dancing over her. “Our special place, I long to take you back to …” He sat up suddenly and reached again for his father’s journals. Each reference to the special place where he and Anne Darcy would go to find peace had been marked. He sat with a book open and staring into the distance.

  A long walk came to mind, just before they left Pemberley in September of 1806. They had already ridden over the estate, paused up on the precipice to look at the valley below … “And then we walked.” He relived the scene, the endless conversation with his father, talking of what he would be experiencing on the continent, words of advice, stories of his own tour, then more stories of the family, so many he could barely keep them straight, and then a stroll past the lake, into the forest, and a slight wave off to the side of the path.

  “Do you know that trail, Son?”

  “Yes, Father, it leads to a glade, I found it years ago when I was looking for respite.”

  “Ah yes, a good place for that.” Mr. Darcy smiled and nodded. “Safely within the arms of your family. Your mother loved that place, and still does. She lives on there. A very special place.” Darcy had looked at him curiously, but his father had kept walking, talking about a new subject, and the moment had been lost.

  “The glade is your, our, special place.” He smiled at last, liking that connection to his parents. “Safely in the arms of my family?” His brow creased, and he thought back again of the pearls. “She lives on there?” Closing his eyes, he lost himself in thought again until he felt a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  “Time for sleep, love.” Elizabeth whispered and kissed his nose.

  Smiling, he opened his eyes. “We should sleep, too.”

  “A very early start requires much rest.” She nodded and held his cheeks in her hands. “Unless you would prefer to remain in this chair?”

  “No.” He kissed her and rose to his feet, setting down the last journal. “I think that I may have solved Father’s mystery, at least part of it.”

  “Will you tell me?” She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked into the master’s chambers.

  “No.”

  “Will!”

  “No, I need to do some more investigating.” They climbed into bed and he blew out the candles before curling around her. “Do you mind?”

  “As a matter of fact …”

  “I knew you would understand.” He chuckled when she reached back to pinch him and rested his face on her pillow. “Goodnight, love.”

  “GONE.” Foster appeared at Mrs. Mercer’s office door and leaned against it. “Such excitement, I have never seen.”


  “Surely you have.” She glanced up from her papers. “This home is filled with it.”

  “I would say that there is a bit of dread, as well.” He walked behind her desk and looked down at her lists. “Smelling salts?”

  “For Mrs. Bennet, she seems to be fond of them according to Mrs. Lucas.” They both cleared their throats. “I ordered a new bottle of laudanum for the master while I was sending to the apothecary.”

  “He has been doing so well.” Foster’s brow creased and seeing Adams passing, he waved him into the room. “How is the master? Are his headaches controlled?”

  “Tolerably. Especially since the mistress’ health has been restored.” Adams looked at them curiously. “He was lost in thought this morning, I think that he was plotting something with Mrs. Darcy at the Derby, there seems to be a game afoot between them.”

  “There is always a game afoot between them. Did you notice the word game at … Well no you wouldn’t, you aren’t in the dining room.”

  “What was happening?” Mrs. Mercer put down her papers.

  “It was a regular meal but,” Foster started chuckling, “it seemed that they each had a word that they tried to work into conversation. Everyone else at the table was completely oblivious to it, only confused at the rather intense staring between the master and mistress.”

  “If they are not expecting another child soon I will be amazed.” Mrs. Mercer shook her head with a smile and returned to work. “Susie caught them in a guest room yesterday, inspecting it for the Bennets, she was told!”

  “Ahem.” Adams coughed and smiled. “No comment.”

  Mrs. Mercer laughed. “Well I for one am glad that they are all off today on their little trip. The Bennets’ arrival on Monday will be tense enough. Not Mr. Bennet, he will go to the library and will be happy to have a bottle of port by his side, but the mother. That woman puts me on edge!”

  “I can still hear her insulting the master and mistress when she toured the house years ago.” Foster said with distaste. “If she disrupts Miss Bennet’s wedding joy …”

  “I do not think Mrs. Darcy would permit anything to harm her sister.” Adams said thoughtfully. “Millie says … well, never mind, but Mrs. Darcy is not the girl she was when Mrs. Bennet was last here.”

  “Aha!”

  All three servants turned when Mrs. Robbins appeared with Rosalie. “Good morning, Miss Rosa.” Mrs. Mercer smiled.

  “Whoa!”

  “And how is the young mistress this morning?”

  “Missing Mama and Papa.” Mrs. Robbins smiled.

  “Papa!” Rosalie looked around anxiously. “Mama?”

  “Not for a long time, dear.” She sighed. “I have to remember not to say their names today.”

  “Well, as they will not return until after dark, I would say you have a long day ahead of you. At least Miss Georgiana and Miss Catherine are here to entertain her now.” Foster smiled at Rosalie. “I have to check the wine supplies for the wedding; I will be in the buttery if you need me.”

  “How is the silver?” Mrs. Mercer’s pen hovered over her list.

  “Polished and ready.” He laughed and went on his way. “I know my duties.”

  “Hmm.” She looked up at Adams. “The master truly is well?”

  “Of course he is.” He noticed the laudanum on her list and understood. “No need for that, I think. The mistress will soothe him.”

  “Who will soothe her?” Mrs. Mercer crossed it off the list and stared at it thoughtfully, then began scratching again.

  Adams leaned over and chuckled. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy was mentioning buying some chocolate for the mistress.”

  “You have a good Papa.” Mrs. Mercer smiled at Rosalie.

  “Papa?” She cried, and Mrs. Robbins sighed.

  “I am sorry!” Hurriedly she handed the baby a biscuit. “Off with you now!”

  “Bye!” Rosalie waved the treat from Mrs. Robbins’ shoulder.

  “Goodbye, dear.” She smiled fondly and glanced at Adams. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “I’m waiting for my biscuit.” He said seriously.

  “Out!”

  LEANING OVER TO LOOK around her hat brim, de Bourgh grinned at Mary. “This is spectacular!”

  “I have never been around so many people before.” Mary examined the crowd, some standing, some sitting, leaning over rows, shaking hands. Women preened and gossiped; the finest of hats and dresses were on display. “I thought Lizzy was silly telling me to wear one of my new gowns, but I am so glad that I listened.”

  “And you are stunning.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “This is my first Derby, too. My first horse races, actually. I am so glad that you are here.”

  “If you were without me you could be as terrible as those men down there.” Mary indicated a group, clearly in their cups and arguing loudly about the last race. “Their wives must be mortified.”

  “No, I do not drink to excess, and certainly not in public. I learned my lesson long ago.” Seeing her brows rise, he smiled. “Being drunk on a ship is unpleasant, the motion is not conducive to an unsettled stomach.”

  “Oh.

  “And, you just might fall overboard.” He nodded at her widened eyes. “It happened more than once when the ration of rum was consumed.”

  “The things I learn from you.”

  “I cannot wait to teach so many things, my dear Mary.” He whispered close to her ear and delighted in her blush. “Mary, Mary, will you marry me?”

  “I think I’m going to in a few days.”

  “Only think?” He laughed and squeezed her hand. “What did you think of our carriage ride?”

  “It was crowded.”

  “You were sitting in the wrong place.” He glanced at Lucas. “We will make other arrangements on the return journey. There is no reason for us to sit according to our sex. That was just Darcy being annoying.”

  “It was just following the rules of propriety.” Mary reminded him gently. “Fitzwilliam is not trying to annoy you.”

  “Well, it was also very tight, three men sitting shoulder to shoulder, especially with a big one like Darcy …” Leaning close to her he whispered, “I want to sit by you, and I know that your sisters prefer to sit by their husbands.”

  “Only three can sit on each side, which of my sisters would you deny her husband? Besides, you are sitting by me now.”

  “And when we are on our honeymoon trip, I will sit by you the whole time.” Laughing at her blushes he sat back again. “Oh Mary, will there ever come a day when I do not surprise you with something?”

  “I hope not.” She peeked around at him and slipped her hand into his. “That would be dull.”

  “Should we stop them?” Jane nudged Lucas.

  Looking them over, he shrugged. “From doing what? He is remarkably well-behaved, considering the state of perpetual arousal he lives in. Leave him be. I am rather looking forward to tomorrow night.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Hmm, after dinner, actually.” He wiggled his brows. “When we send him off properly.”

  “Robert, what do you have planned? Not drunkenness?”

  “Nooo.” He winked at her.

  “It will be Sunday.” She said sternly.

  “Better and better.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he will not be able to fight us!” Lucas shook his head. “Dear Jane, he is to be my brother, I must do my part. You know that Darcy will not.”

  “You are so much happier since we left Hertfordshire.” Jane observed. “What will happen when we return home in a few days?”

  Lucas sighed. “We will do our best to continue the good humour we have discovered here.”

  “I will do my best to keep you in good humour,” Jane smiled, “because Mama and Papa will be here in two days.”

  “Do not remind me.”

  “I just hope that everyone behaves.” Jane looked back in the stands as the final race was set and ready to begin. “Ohhh, wher
e are Lizzy and Fitzwilliam? They are going to miss it!”

  “Come on, come on …” Elizabeth whispered under her breath. “Come on, Phantom, move!” Behind her, Darcy stood close with his hands holding her shoulders, both because he wanted the contact, and to protect her from the tight press of the surrounding crowd. “Come on …oh I cannot see! Fitzwilliam, lift me up!”

  “What?” He chuckled and peeked around the feathers of her fashionable hat. “I think not!”

  “Well, who is winning?” She stood up on her toes and taking out her fan, tapped the man in front of her. “Pardon me, sir, could you just shift to your right a bit?”

  “Are you daft?” The modestly dressed man demanded and turned. His face registered surprise to see Elizabeth’s bright intelligent eyes looking at him expectantly and then Darcy’s serious gaze boring into him. “Oh, of course your ladyship.” He stepped over and Elizabeth rewarded him with a brilliant smile.

  “Thank you for the advancement into the peerage, but I just wished to see the race! Come on, Phantom!” She cried along with the rest of the roaring crowd. Amazed, the man watched her rather than the race, and Darcy held her tighter, keeping her from jumping and holding back his laughter. Seeing her like this was worth the interminable carriage ride to and from London. Finally the horses sped past them, the thunder of the hooves on the turf and the pleading of all those watching filled the air. Elizabeth looked to Darcy when the horses slowed and cries of triumph and disappointment replaced the urgent cheers. “Well?”

  “I am not sure.” His eyes twinkled.

  “Phantom!” Another man spat and threw his arms in the air. “Two pounds gone!”

  Elizabeth spun around and squealed. Darcy bent to kiss her. “Ahhhh that’s the way, sir.” Someone nudged him. Elizabeth’s arms wrapped around Darcy’s waist just in time to feel a hand reaching to snatch his pocket watch. Her nails sank into flesh and they heard a screech and curse.

  Smiling at her, he grinned. “What have you done?”

  “Do you still have your pocketbook?”

  “I do.”