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 do not think that it killed her, in fact, this one was no panacea. It actually worked. Robinson was understandably not forthcoming with details, but the newly unemployed lady’s maid was happy to whisper her opinion of a bottle that was delivered and hidden away. It seems Caroline survived the act, but died from the recovery. The infection came on quickly.”

  “My cousin Fitzwilliam is rather suspicious of doctors and their usefulness, especially of their fondness for bleeding their victims.”

  “Victims.” Hurst chuckled. “Hmm, something in that though, how many times do you call the doctor only to have the patient die?”

  “Please, do not remind me. Does Bingley know of his sister’s behaviour?”

  “No. And Robinson told me nothing of it either, so it remains speculation on my part. There was more behind this; he was quite determined to bury her off the estate. Whatever happened between them, he was infuriated.”

  “I can imagine, but he showed her respect in the end.”

  “His pain and regret were palpable and honestly surprising to me. It once again proves that you never truly know what happens beyond the public eye in a marriage, or in a man’s heart.” Seeing that Darcy’s lips were curved up slightly, Hurst laughed to himself before becoming serious. “Robinson never wants to set foot in the estate again.” Casting his line, he watched it pull with the flow of the stream. “He tried to sell it to Bingley.”

  Feeling a tug, Darcy began reeling his in and seeing nothing, cast out again. “Tried? He turned it down?”

  “Yes.” Hurst shook his head.

  “Well, good for Bingley.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your brother may have gone ahead with the decision to put in the steam-powered looms at the mills, but he is still undecided if he will sell out the business. If that is the ultimate goal, he needs an estate large enough to supply him the income he requires to maintain his lifestyle; and that means something the size of Netherfield. Robinson’s estate is not enough. As a simple country home, a place to enjoy some hunting and escape town, it is self-sustaining and perfect, but not as a sole source of income. Not for Bingley. Now for another man …” Darcy became thoughtful, and drawing his arm back, flicked his line into the water.

  “I had not thought of that, of course he would still have over half of his father’s money to just invest or even purchase additional land.”

  Darcy woke from his musing and disagreed. “Significant amounts of land are not that easy to acquire, it is all tied up in entails. He would want something adjacent to his property or at least nearby if he was to manage it easily.”

  “You have quite a bit of land, spread throughout the country, I have noticed.”

  “That I do.” Darcy smiled and Hurst chuckled. “And I own what is above and below

  “Timber and coal?”

  “And whatever else might be found.” He stared off into the distance. “I will do well by my heirs, whichever way the tide turns.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Darcy startled, “Oh, are you watching the change in industry, Hurst? You witnessed Bingley struggling with his mills; you would be wise to invest beyond your inheritance of your father’s estate.” He raised his brows. “Change is not coming, it is here.”

  “I will take your advice.” Hurst’s brow creased and he turned back to the stream.

  “Darcy!” Bingley called and held up the fat trout he had just caught. “What on earth do you have in this water? This beast is enormous!”

  Laughing, they walked down the bank to examine his prize. “I think that they have been left to their own devices for too long. You are our first guests for some time.”

  “I wish that we could stay for the hunting season.” Hurst looked around wistfully. “The sport here must be magnificent.”

  “You enjoyed a fox hunt last year.”

  “I prefer the shooting.” Hurst watched a flock of geese rise up from the lake and settle down. “Back home with us. I have been away from Louisa too long.”

  “You are welcome to stay, Bingley.” Darcy offered. “There is really nothing for you in town right now.”

  “You mean with this armband.” He looked at his sleeve. “What will I do with myself? I cannot attend any public balls or frivolous activities.”

  “Lectures,” Darcy smiled when Bingley rolled his eyes. “Book readings, dramas at Covent Garden. Perhaps take in a gallery or museum.”

  “That sounds right up your alley, Bingley.” Hurst laughed and folded his arms. “He might call on a few people, though. Friends who remain.”

  “No courting, then.” He sighed. “I actually had planned to be in Scarborough much longer before coming here, but here I am.” He shrugged. “And perhaps here I will stay.”

  2 AUGUST 1811

  My goodness such a whirlwind of activity this house is suffering! Kitty’s little birthday dinner and dancing event in four days has taken over everything. Did I say that it was little? Well that was the intention, but I see shades of our mother in my sister’s eyes when the thoughts of a party dance about in her imagination. Why, dancing is the very word for it all, she is excited, nay determined, to dance with every young man who might be so unfortunate to catch her eye. Oh listen to me. I suppose that I was the same once. No I was not, I was only fifteen when Mama pushed me out, so I had no time to dwell on the possibilities. We shall give her a perfectly lovely time. Poor Georgiana is trying so hard to be stoic about it all, but of course she may not dance, and although she attempted to sweet talk Fitzwilliam after playing him a favourite song, he said no. I have sympathy for both sides so I was glad to leave that decision with him alone.

  Many of our neighbours are arriving home from town and they will find in their stack of correspondence an invitation to Pemberley. Mrs. Annesley set the girls to work writing them out, and for that I am grateful. This child of ours has not affected my appetite, but I am so sleepy I can barely finish writing this entry without a yawn, and my goodness, the lists I must keep tucked in my bodice to remember what I need to do! Fitzwilliam was staring at me, well he is always staring at me, but this time his mouth was open and his eyes were wide, and I suddenly realized that there I was, in the middle of dinner, reaching down my gown to pull out a list! Thankfully only Fitzwilliam saw, I believe that poor Mr. Bingley would have died from his blushes, not to mention that I would have wished to crawl under the table! I am rambling again, what is it about pregnancy that turns a perfectly reasonable woman into an incomprehensible mess? Is it just me? Do all women do this?

  Darcy gently tugged the pen and pulling it from her fingers, set it down. Elizabeth looked up at him and he kissed her lips. “Breathe, love.”

  “I am not breathless.”

  “Your journal claims otherwise.” He began rubbing her shoulders and read the passage again. “Is the party too much for you?”

  “No.” She relaxed back against his waistcoat. “That feels so good.”

  “When do I begin your foot rubs?”

  “I do not know why you ever stopped.” She looked up at him and he chuckled. “I am not swollen as yet.”

  “Your belly is swelling.” He leaned and wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her throat while touching her. “You were not nearly this big at this point with Rosalie.”

  “I was not eating either.”

  “Thankfully that has changed. I am glad that we decided to delay telling the girls about the baby. Especially after they learned of Mrs. Robinson. They would be quite worried for you.”

  “I cannot help wanting to be especially cautious.”

  “I understand, after our initial joy, I suppose it took me some time to float down from the clouds.” He chuckled when she laughed, and moved around her to kneel and kiss her belly. “Hello my child.” Elizabeth caressed his hair. “Keep growing. Make your mama round.”

  “You know, it is not comfortable to be round.”

  “But you have me to rub your feet.” Darcy looked up to kiss her. �
�Are you well? What can I do for you?”

  “Exactly what you are doing.” She smiled and hugged him. “I love having you at my feet.”

  He laughed and rested his head on her shoulder. “That is a metaphor for something.”

  “No doubt.” Elizabeth kissed his hair. “What have you been up to while I have been breathless?”

  “I have been considering a solution to Richard’s dilemma.”

  “Oh?” She tilted her head to see his face. “And that is?”

  “Well,” He groaned and rose from his knees. “Come and walk with me, and I will tell you.”

  “But it is raining.” She looked outside at the steady shower.

  “I think that we are perfectly capable of enjoying a walk indoors.” Holding out his hand he helped her up. “I cannot wait until you need both of my hands to rise.”

  “I am of a mixed opinion on that.” Laughing, she took his hand and they strolled out of the sitting room and into the hallway. “I want our baby, but now that I know what is coming …”

  “I know; ignorance is both bliss and a curse.” He swung their hands and she laughed up at him. “Shall I deliver this baby?”

  Studying him, Elizabeth stopped walking. “Are you serious?”

  “It has crossed my mind rather frequently of late.” He shrugged and looked down at their clasped hands.

  “Oh Will.” She reached up to caress his cheek. “We will be fine.”

  “Rosalie!” Georgiana and Kitty’s voices called. Darcy and Elizabeth moved out of the hallway to the top of the marble staircase, and watched Rosalie, giggling and clutching her ball, running away from them.

  Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and headed down, then stood still, watching his excited daughter and exhausted sisters, and waiting until the baby approached, bent quickly, and scooped her up and into the air. “I caught you!”

  “Papa!” She laughed and giggled as he held her up above his head then brought her down to his chest.

  “What are you doing, Miss Rosa?” He asked sternly.

  “Whoa!” She dropped the ball and hugged his neck.

  “Give me a kiss?” Darcy begged when he could breathe again, and received a wet, noisy, smack on his cheek. “Thank you, little love.” He settled her in the crook of one arm and looked at the ladies. “What on earth were you doing?”

  “The ball rolled away and she got up to chase it, and then she just … ran!” Georgiana panted. “We were sitting on the floor; it is her fault that she left!”

  “She is quick as lightning!” Kitty put her hand to her chest.

  “Well now you know, she cannot be trusted.” Elizabeth turned to her beaming daughter. “No running, Miss Rosa.”

  “No!” She announced. “No, no, no!”

  “Oh dear, the new favourite word.” Elizabeth sighed.

  “Owt!” She pointed to the door. “Ball owt!”

  “No, dear, it is raining.” Seeing Rosalie’s furrowed brow, she took her from Darcy and walking to the door, opened it. “See, rain. You do not want to get all wet, do you?” Elizabeth took Rosalie’s hand and held it out so that the raindrops fell on it. Her eyes widened and she immediately tasted the water, and held out her hand for more.

  “Oh no.” Darcy laughed. “I think that she likes it.”

  “Just wait until she discovers puddles.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “And standing out in the downpour.”

  “You never did that, did you?” A slow smile crept over his face when he saw her grin. “You like to walk in the rain? But I thought you were afraid of storms?”

  “I am afraid of lightning, not rain.” Darcy immediately took Rosalie up in his arms and held out his hand to Elizabeth. “What are you doing?”

  “Come, it is warm, and not raining too hard, let us find a good puddle.” His eyes twinkled.

  “You are mad!” Elizabeth laughed, but did not hesitate to take his hand.

  “Wet!” Rosalie cried and soon they were off.

  “I have no words.” Georgiana stared after them. “My brother, walking in the rain, with no hat or coat. For pleasure.”

  “I am not at all surprised at Lizzy doing it.” Kitty giggled. “She was always coming home with the hem of her skirt covered with mud! It used to infuriate Mama.”

  Hearing Rosalie’s laughter Georgiana shook her head and closed the door. “I do not think that Elizabeth’s daughters will have that problem.”

  “DOES THAT GIRL ever make a noise?” Lord Matlock smiled and watched his grandchildren out in the garden of Matlock House.

  “Oh she can if she is feeling affront.” Fitzwilliam smiled fondly at Annabel and then started from his chair when Frederick reached for her hair.

  “Relax, Son.”

  “They may be married one day.” Layton grinned.

  “Perish the thought!” Fitzwilliam growled protectively.

  “I believe I have been insulted! He will be an Earl!”

  “When you are dead!” The brothers exchanged threatening looks until their father cleared his throat.

  “Boys. I realize that you are hoping to get in as much sniping as possible before we leave, but truly, I have no desire to listen to your mother’s fury about what children you still are.” Lord Matlock looked at them pointedly. “Peace.”

  “Yes, Father.” They said together and looked back to where Margaret and Grace were busily fighting over two dolls. Audrey and Alicia separated them and sat back down, only to see the girls return to their battle.

  “Audrey is going to strangle our daughter, I think.” Singleton observed. “Her patience is very short as is her mood.”

  “It is just so blasted hot, and her having to heft around that baby you gave her can only make it worse.” Fitzwilliam winked at him. “And I am sure that you hear about your part in this, if I know my dear sister.”

  Laughing, he watched his wife contain her frustration. “Actually she limits it to pointed stares, like the one I am receiving now. She is too glad with her progress to complain to me too often.”

  “But she does complain?”

  “On occasion.” Singleton smiled at her affectionately. “I cannot wait to leave this city. At least we can open up the windows and enjoy the breeze without fear of disease.”

  “Yes, you are fortunate.” Fitzwilliam said softly as his smile faded.

  Lord Matlock was watching him. “Well, what of Sandhurst?”

  “Why on earth would they move from London?” Layton asked.

  “To keep the boys from its distractions.” Fitzwilliam shrugged. “It is certainly a valid argument.”

  “You were easily distracted at one time.” Lord Matlock smiled. “You have made no decision, I assume. Well, what of this estate Darcy dug up for you? It sounds like an excellent proposition. You know that he will work on it if you say the word; he will drive an excellent bargain. I have witnessed him in negotiations with his lawyers.”

  “I do not know that it is for sale, it could be merely the cries of a grieving man cursing the heavens and shaking his fist at what has been wrought on his family.”

  “That is a dramatic picture.” Singleton laughed. “What is the asking price?”

  “He paid 40,000, undoubtedly as I am not his brother, he would want more.” He sighed and looked at his hands. “I do not have it.” The three men looked over his bowed head and slumped form, and exchanged worried glances. “Richard, what is wrong?”

  “Never mind.” He rose to his feet slowly and walked stiffly into the house. Layton kept an eye on him and noticed that as soon as he crossed the threshold, his gait became a limp.

  “Good Lord, he is in real pain!” He turned to his father who nodded. “I knew that it was with him constantly, but this seems to have worsened. He cannot go on like this; there must be something we can do. He says he does not have the funds, sell the townhouse!”

  “That would be only 20,000 or so.” He rubbed his jaw.

  “His commission?” Singleton suggested. “If he is to be a landowner, he certainly d
oes not need that. What did he pay to be a colonel?”

  “He paid to be a major, his colonel was killed and he was promoted to lieutenant colonel by a non-purchase commission, and he has not held the rank long enough to get its full value.” Lord Matlock thought back over the years. “I believe he has paid around 5000 more or less.”

  Layton sat up, “Well, surely he can sell it for twice that amount! Go to the brokers …”

  “It is wartime Son; commissions are easily had with all of the officers dying and men rising in the ranks. I doubt that he would get more than face value.” He sighed. “So perhaps he has 30,000. He would not dare to touch his savings or Eva’s money.”

  “Father, we must help him. I have no idea what he would do at Sandhurst, perhaps he could have a purely teaching position and not strain his legs. Darcy was correct, it is not the riding, it is the long hours of nothing but riding that has the cumulative effect on him. I do not like seeing Richard so defeated, it is just so wrong. Darcy asked about Matlock, is there any part that we can give him? I do not object.”

  “It is the damned entailment, we cannot break it up.” Lord Matlock glared at a rosebush and noticed Evangeline looking worriedly at the house, then finally rising to go inside. “If this estate was available, I would find the money to make up the difference for him.”

  “You already gave him the townhouse …” Singleton pointed out.

  “My daughter’s dowry was how much?”

  “30,000, sir.” Singleton coloured and looked down. “Forgive me.” Lord Matlock grunted and closed his eyes. They flew open at the impatient sound of his wife’s voice.

  “Well?”

  “Helen.”

  “What are you doing to help him?”

  “This estate is possible …”

  “Find another.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Surely there is another small estate somewhere in this country that is available?”

  “No doubt, but we do not know of it, dear.”

  “And in the meantime, he worries himself sick, wondering how he can continue to work and support his family!” Lady Matlock glared. “This is unacceptable!”

  Audrey and Alicia exchanged glances and watched their mother’s fury grow. “Is there not some property outside of the entail?” Audrey asked. “You could build them a house?”