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

by Wells, Linda

  “I am ready to take you on at any time, sir.” Darcy smiled when a glint appeared in the reverend’s eye.

  “I look forward to it.”

  “Oh dear, here we go again.” Elizabeth sighed. “And what will the wager be? No, on second thought I do not wish to know.” They laughed and she indicated the girls to him. “Mr. Evans, this is my sister Catherine Bennet. Kitty, Mr. Evans, our parish priest.”

  “Mr. Evans.” Kitty smiled and curtseyed when the young man stood.

  “Miss Bennet.” He bowed and smiled. “A pleasure. Miss Darcy, you are well?”

  “I am, sir.”

  He waited while they sat down and remained standing. “I should probably leave you to your family party.”

  “You are welcome to stay for dinner, sir.” Elizabeth offered.

  “Oh no, too much to do, but next time I will be sure to accept.” He bowed and started to turn. “Will you be attending the fair in Lambton next week?”

  “I did not know of a fair, did you, Kitty?” Georgiana said excitedly.

  “No, will there be dancing?” She looked eagerly at Elizabeth.

  “Are you permitted to dance, Miss Catherine? Well, perhaps I might request one?” He smiled. “If your brother does not object?”

  “I have no objection at all.” He looked at Elizabeth who nodded.

  “Oh, thank you, sir.” Kitty blushed. “I will be glad to dance with you. I have only been asked once before.”

  “Well I am happy to give you another chance.” He smiled and bowed. “Until then.”

  Kitty watched him stride away and did not turn until Georgiana’s giggling finally caught her ear. “Oh stop it!” They ran off and started their game again and Darcy sighed.

  “I guess we are attending the fair.”

  “I guess so.” Elizabeth laughed when he groaned and snuggled up next to him. She caressed Rosalie’s hair and watched Kitty watching Evans arriving at his horse and galloping off. “Well, at least we know she is not in love with Mr. Bingley!”

  “I doubt that she is in love with anything other than dancing.” He kissed Rosalie. “You know, at this rate, we will be chaperoning for thirty years before we are through?”

  “Maybe longer.” She touched her belly and smiled at him. “Maybe we will have five girls.”

  “Please love, please, one boy that is all I ask for. I need some support!” Darcy laughed and ducked when she threw a handful of grass at him, then leaned over to kiss her. “I love you, Mama, thank you for making me a papa again.”

  “HAVE YOU HAD ANY WORD from Caroline?” Robinson asked quietly. “She is, unsurprisingly, unresponsive to my letters.”

  “Yes. She is furious with her banishment, and does not have anything charitable to say about anyone, and nothing to say of her son.” Louisa smiled slightly. “I am sorry.”

  “No, I expected it.” He shrugged. “It would be entirely out of character for her to transform into the picture of the perfect mother, even after a month away. I know Caroline, she will hold onto her anger until she determines a way to return that suits her. She was a perfectly adequate wife and companion, decent company, amusing, diverting, even rather handsome. I enjoyed her biting wit, but none of those things are attractive enough to excuse her neglect of our son and rather vindictive behaviour towards the servants, even though I suppose that I was not much better not so long ago.”

  “Are you ready to see him now?” Louisa smiled when the nursemaid arrived with the boy, and handed him to her. “Wake for Papa, Wallace.”

  “No, no, let him rest.” Robinson leaned forward and gingerly touched the baby’s face. “He is three months old today.”

  “And healthy.” Louisa assured him. “Look at those chubby cheeks!” Robinson laughed softly. “He is the image of you.”

  “Oh … I would not wish such a face on a child.” He blushed.

  “Will you try to hold him?” Louisa said quietly. “Come, it is time. He must go home eventually, and he will need you.”

  “I … I will drop him.” He protested. “He is safer with you.”

  “Harris.” Louisa said sternly. “You sent your wife away because she neglected him. Come, hold your son. Your arguments about fearing becoming attached to him are baseless now; I can see it in your eyes. You love him. Hold out your arms.” Nervously, Robinson accepted the bundle and clutched him. “There, not so tightly!” She smiled as his grip relaxed. “It is not so hard! And just wait until he wakes and starts climbing up onto your shoulder!”

  “Oh …he won’t …”

  “Of course he will; he is very curious.” Standing, she patted his arm. “I will just leave you two alone.”

  “Louisa, no … I …” She left the room and he stared after her. “Now what?” He looked down at his peaceful son. “What shall we do about your mother?” He asked him. “The housekeeper suspects that she is pregnant. For that child’s sake, I pray that she is not. I should never have asserted my rights again. Not when I saw what …” He looked up when he heard a movement by the door. “Bingley! Get in here!”

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude.” Bingley entered and looked down at the father and son. “I am glad to see you holding him at last.”

  “So was your sister, and she disappeared the second she gave him over.” He smiled ruefully. “She is no fool.”

  “No, definitely not.” He laughed softly. “She has become the picture of a doting mother since your child came to this house. My brother cannot make her out at all! I can see why my friends have become so attached to their children. I received a letter from Darcy just this morning telling me a spectacularly detailed account of his daughter’s discovery of a fountain in the rose garden, and how she delighted in trying to catch the stream of water cascading over the side.”

  “Really?” Robinson said softly. “I cannot remember a time of being so carefree.”

  “Through your efforts, your son will.” Receiving no response, Bingley cleared his throat. “Will you reconcile?”

  “I do not know.” Looking up, he shrugged. “Everything that I ever admired and believed in has been irrevocably changed by this child. What has happened to me? I do not feel the same loss with your sister.”

  “You did not love her. She was a companion, perhaps a friend; you married for reasons of convenience and suitability. She looked strong enough to bear your heir. We discussed this long ago when you agreed to court her and I was so desperate to save her reputation, which you did do, despite Wickham’s subsequent acts. She forgets that, I think.”

  “Perhaps. It is hard to remember hunger when your belly is full.” He watched the baby’s mouth working as if he was suckling, and smiled when his thumb found its way to his lips. “However, I did not want to love her. I did not want to be attached that deeply.” Robinson sighed. “And now I am tied to her forever, so if I did find a woman to care for me and this newfound heart I have, I could not act upon it.”

  “Perhaps Caroline will change?” Robinson just lifted his brow. “Forget that. She is with child?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Will you take it away?”

  “If she displays the same disdain, if motherhood does not strike her soul.” He startled when Wallace wiggled and yawned, then opened his eyes to stare at him. “No, no ifs. I will protect my blood, the child is mine.” He looked into the baby’s unblinking eyes. “What the devil has happened to me?”

  They looked up when the sound of female voices filtered down the hallway. Robinson noticed that Bingley was quite alert, his eyes were bright, and already a smile twitched at his lips. “Miss Martin!” He jumped as if on a spring. “Good morning!”

  “Why, Mr. Bingley!” She laughed. “This is a surprise; I hardly expected to see you, today!”

  “Why not, I live here?” He bowed and waited for her to take a seat. “Should I not be at home?”

  “Well, I have grown used to you being here, but my visit today was not planned, unlike my others. I thought that perhaps you …” Sh
e blushed.

  “Would lie in wait for your previous visits?” He tilted his head.

  “I do not wish to compare you to a predator, sir.”

  Bingley chuckled. “I appreciate that.”

  “Miss Martin was on her way to Darcy House. Mrs. Darcy left behind several unfinished gowns for her charity work, and mentioned them in a letter. Miss Martin thought that she should retrieve and finish them instead of waiting countless months for the Darcys to return.”

  “You correspond with Mrs. Darcy?” Bingley smiled widely. “I did not know that!”

  “Why should you, sir?” Abbey smiled. “Are you aware of all of Mrs. Darcy’s correspondents?”

  “No.” He laughed. “I am only aware of her reaction upon reading my letters. And it is usually not favourable.”

  “What do you say that would make her unhappy? I cannot imagine it being scandalous!”

  “Oh, we will not delve into that.” Bingley admired her rising brow. “Let us leave it at her criticism of my penmanship. It is poor, although vastly improved due to the diligent teaching of Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

  “Penmanship?” Abbey laughed. “A gentleman does not require good penmanship, only a tradesman or clerk would need to have legible writing for his business, a gentleman has people to write for him.” She saw him glance pointedly at his sister. “Am I incorrect? That is what I was taught.”

  “I believe that there is a difference between good penmanship and utter illegibility.” Louisa returned her brother’s look. “Is there not, Charles?”

  “Yes, Louisa.”

  “It seems that you have uncovered a familiar family squabble, Miss Martin.” Robinson looked up at her. “Stay longer and Bingley might reveal all of his secrets to you.”

  “That might prove interesting.” It was Bingley’s turn to raise his brow. “Far more interesting than the dissertation that I received last night from Mr. Peterson.”

  “Mr. Peterson.” Bingley’s smile faltered. “Oh, yes, the gentleman who called upon you a few weeks ago.”

  “You knew his name?”

  “Peterson and McCoy, yes, I … The maid mentioned them.” He blushed and Abbey did as well. “You were in his company?”

  “I … My family attended a ball. He escorted me. We danced twice.”

  “Oh.”

  “And he was dull?” Louisa stepped in. “What was his conversation?”

  “Oh, he was drunk on himself. All self-confidence and pride, but not an iota of charm. Perfectly suitable, if you wish to spend your life rolling your eyes behind your fan.” Abbey spoke to Louisa but watched Bingley’s face reflecting relief. “He is a surgeon, so he seems to have acquired an attitude of god-like omnipotence, when I asked his opinion of physicians, he snorted at the gentlemen who never deign to get their hands dirty and only dispense drugs and serious expressions. I am only grateful that he did not warm to his subject.” She sighed. “I believe that not being a gentleman was a sore spot for him.”

  “But he was unimpressive in the end?” Bingley prodded.

  “I suppose so.” She said softly.

  Wallace suddenly let go of a loud squall and made everyone, particularly his father, jump. “Good gracious!” He cried and stared as the baby’s arms came out of his blanket and his hand reached for his nose. “What do I do?”

  “Lift him to your shoulder.” Louisa stood and helped him to manoeuvre the baby. “There, like that.”

  “He is breathing in my ear.” Robinson said with a start. “Good Lord, he is climbing me!” He clutched at the baby and looked at Louisa in utter panic. “Help me!”

  “For heaven’s sake!” She laughed.

  “You need more practice, Mr. Robinson.” Abbey smiled as Louisa retrieved the fearsome child. “I hope that he goes home to you soon. Have you found a governess yet?”

  “No, nobody seems good enough yet.” He watched as Louisa sat down and easily cuddled Wallace. “Nobody seems better than you, Louisa.”

  “Thank you, Harris.” She smiled. “That is a wonderful compliment. I admit that I will be loathe to let him go one day.” She sighed and looked up at him. “But home he must go.”

  “I suppose that I like seeing him in a family setting.” His smile faltered and he glanced at Bingley. “Perhaps I should visit Mrs. Robinson?”

  “Perhaps that would be wise.” He agreed. “Caroline is not completely unreasonable.”

  “No, not completely.” Robinson sighed. “Well, I will make the effort and see, then I will move on in some direction.” He got to his feet and bowed. “It was a pleasure, Miss Martin. You seem too sensible to be tied to a self-absorbed surgeon.” He winked at Bingley when she blushed, and turned to Louisa to touch his son’s hair. “I will leave in the morning and send word of my plans once I arrive. Take care of him for me.” He left the room.

  “I feel as if I should not have been here for this conversation. I am sorry, I should have excused myself.” Abbey stood and Bingley was immediately beside her. “I should be going, the coach is waiting and Papa needs it this afternoon. It was so good to see you all today.” She smiled at Louisa. “No, do not rise, I know my way out.”

  “I will gladly escort you Miss Martin.” Bingley waved his hand at the door. “I know my way, as well.”

  She relaxed and laughed, and then walked before him, startling when he offered his arm. “Thank you.”

  “It is my pleasure.” They walked slowly, and approaching the stairs, Bingley stopped. “Miss Martin, I am going to sound rude, but I do not care. I am quite pleased that you found Mr. Peterson’s conversation boorish.” She blushed again. “I ask, what of Mr. McCoy’s?”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “No sir, I am afraid that I do not.” She let go of his arm and he reached to retrieve her hand. “He is a very good, kind, and sincere young man. He has excellent prospects, and he is here now. And he is suspicious of you. I have no answers for his questions.”

  “You know my reasons for not giving you any.”

  Abbey studied him. “The way that you look at me. I see such conflict in your eyes. What does it mean? Are you fighting attraction or resisting action before you feel the time is right?”

  “What else do you see?” He urged her. “Tell me. Does it resemble Mr. McCoy’s expression?”

  “No.” She studied him. “He may be shy, but he is visiting for a reason. Give me a reason to send him away, Mr. Bingley, for I would be a fool to pass the chance if there is nothing else waiting for me.” He hesitated and she sighed. “I see.”

  “No, you do not.”

  “Then tell me!” She cried in frustration. “What are you holding back? Would you regret it if I were to throw myself wholeheartedly into my visits from Mr. McCoy?”

  “Would you?”

  “What is wrong with me that makes you hesitate? If I am so unsuitable that you cannot answer me now, then … I think that I am better off thinking no more of the possibility.” Abbey’s eyes were bright with tears.

  “Abbey …”

  “No sir. You have no right to call me by name.” She stepped away from him and went to the stairs. “Goodbye, Mr. Bingley.” She ran down and Bingley felt a hand shove his back. Not even looking behind him, he ran forward and arriving at the front door, stopped her from opening it. She looked down at her feet. “Sir, do not block my exit.”

  “Do not give in to McCoy.”

  “Why?”

  “Just don’t.”

  “That is not good enough.”

  “Please.”

  “It is so easy for a gentleman to be choosy.”

  Bingley closed his eyes. “I know. I know how difficult it was to find a husband for my sister, despite her charms.”

  “Charms.” Abbey scoffed and Bingley looked back at her as a smile appeared. She sighed. “Give me a reason to wait for anyone other than Mr. McCoy. Give it to me before I leave this home or I will never …” She opened her reticule and pulled out his calling card. “I will neve
r look fondly upon this again.”

  Bingley took the card and looked at it, and pressed it back into her palm. He searched her eyes and covered the card with his hand. “I hope to see you in Hertfordshire. I will be disappointed if I do not, but I will understand.” He let go and stepped away, and unlatched the door. “Good morning, Miss Martin.”

  Abbey stood still and drank in his sincere and sad eyes. “Will I see you again before then?”

  “No.” He said softly. “I am to travel to Scarborough to see the mills and my relatives while the weather is good, then stop at Pemberley before going to Netherfield. That is why I cannot compete with any suitor. It is not for lack of desire.”

  “Oh.” She looked at her father’s waiting coach and back up at him. “Thank you for telling me that.” Opening the reticule, she started to replace the card and stopped. “Would you have said goodbye before you left?”

  “Yes.” Bingley relaxed when the card at last was returned to the bag.

  Abbey paused to close her eyes before looking back up to him. “Good Morning, Mr. Bingley. I will see you in October?”

  “I hope so.” He smiled and bowed over her hand. “Take care, and bless you.” Abbey walked out to the curb and climbed into the coach, and watched him raise his hand as it pulled away.

  “Bless you, too, Mr. Bingley.”

  Chapter 15

  “Picturesque town.” Hurst observed as the carriage rolled into Scarborough and they passed the Bingley Mills. Bingley glanced at him and returned to looking out at the massive building that his forefathers had built.

  “It hardly seems right. They worked so hard to build this up, all so I could sit and do absolutely nothing.” He looked back to Hurst as they moved further into town.

  “But that was the goal all along, to better the family, to bring it out of the working class. Your father was a huge success in that light alone. Look at you, a recognized gentleman, accepted in circles that he could only dream about, with connections he could hardly imagine. You are welcome in the homes of a man with a name as old as this country, and in the home of an Earl. I cannot claim that and I was born a gentleman. It is through you that I have the slightest taste of that society.” Hurst smiled. “You have worked hard, not through the sweat of your brow, but through the application of your friendship.”