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

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Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) Page 46

by Wells, Linda


  “I will have servants, Lydia. I will not be doing the cleaning and the laundry. I might have to do a little cooking and shopping here and there, but I think that will be very infrequent if Robert has anything to say about it, but I enjoy putting up preserves and gardening. It is good to have occupation. Idle hands are the devil’s tools.”

  “Oh Lord, Jane, you sound like Mary!” Lydia moaned.

  “Yes, and there is Mary in her mansion with how many servants? Idle!” Jane laughed. “Really Lydia, Lizzy and Mary have made spectacular marriages to wonderful men, and despite all of the praise and expectations that Mama heaped upon me about saving the family and making a match just as spectacular, the truth is that marrying a man like Robert is precisely what I should have expected all along. And the best part is that we love each other very much, something that I do not think would have happened with Mr. Harwick or Mr. Bingley, even if I had given them a chance.” She smiled when Lydia seemed to be considering that fact. “Do not be surprised if the match you make is more like mine than Lizzy’s.”

  “I suppose that is true, and when I think about it, I feel so much better visiting you at Lucas Lodge than visiting Darcy House. It is just too much for me.”

  “Maybe you should spend some time with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, and see what you think of their life. Maybe you can enjoy the city, just a different part of it.” Jane smiled. “I can write to them if you like.”

  “Oh.” Lydia bit her lip. “Do you think that they would want me?”

  “Aunt Gardiner said how pleased she was with how you have changed when she saw you at the wedding, and she really appreciated how you helped with Mama.”

  “Will you need my help?” Lydia giggled and pointed.

  Jane looked up as a carriage made its way down the newly cleared drive. “Oh dear.”

  “Jane!” Mrs. Bennet stepped down and came rushing over. “You are ill! Look at you, covered in mud, what has become of you!” She turned and looked at the cottage. “You must put an end to this foolish idea right now. Moving into this ruin, what was your father thinking! I thought that Mr. Lucas was a sensible young man, but he has embraced this plan to move my girl out into the wilderness …”

  “Wilderness, Mama? This is not America, there are no wild Indians lurking behind the next tree. We are just a little farther from Meryton than Longbourn House.”

  “It is disgusting to know that you must eke out a living in this shell.”

  “Robert is not working any differently than he would if we remained in Lucas Lodge, Mama. He has not taken a position as tenant or servant somewhere, he remains a gentleman. It is just a home. Privacy is all we desired. And when this is finished, we shall have it at last.” She looked over the cottage and smiled. “It will be lovely.”

  “Why Mrs. Darcy cannot have her husband build you a new home …”

  “Because we are not their responsibility, and my husband would not accept it. I admire him greatly for being as independent as possible, and working hard to care for his family.” Standing, she straightened her skirt. “Now, I am going to return to work, would you care to pitch in, Mama?”

  “What?” Horrified Mrs. Bennet stared at her. “Jane Lucas, you will ruin your hands, and then nobody will believe that you are a gentlewoman!”

  “She can wear gloves, Mama.” Lydia observed.

  “Lydia Bennet, you are coming home, this instant!” She took her hand.

  “And leave Jane here alone?” Lydia winked at Jane.

  “You are coming, too, Mrs. Lucas.” Mrs. Bennet shooed her daughters into the carriage, and Lydia leaned to Jane when they climbed inside. “There, we were tired and now we do not have to walk home.”

  “That was sneaky, Lydia.” Jane whispered. “But thank you!”

  “WHERE IS SHE?” Mrs. Reynolds cried. “Oh if she is lost or hurt …”

  “Go stand at the top of the stairs!” Matthews ordered a maid. “And do not move until she is found.” He glared at Mrs. Robbins. “How could you let her out of your sight?”

  “She is just so quick! I turned to pick up a doll and she vanished! Mr. and Mrs. Darcy will be frantic!”

  “Well they are fortunately in their chambers, so I suggest that we look everywhere before they appear.” Bernard glanced up the stairs. “How long will they be?”

  “It could be minutes or hours, you never know with them. Mrs. Annesley is with the girls, and Mr. Bingley went riding.” Mrs. Reynolds said breathlessly.

  “If we are fortunate, we can find her before any of them is wiser. Mrs. Robbins, from now on, pay attention to your charge and keep the door shut when she is in a room.” Matthews looked over the assembled staff. “Now, where?”

  “She would be looking for her mama and papa.” Mrs. Robbins said tearfully.

  “Study?” They all turned and saw the door was closed. Matthews approached and opened it. “Conrad. Are you alone?”

  He removed his reading glasses and stood. “Clearly, what is wrong?”

  “The baby is missing.” Matthews went around the room, looking under the desk, moving the draperies.

  “Kidnapped?” He asked urgently, and heard Mrs. Reynolds’ wail.

  “No.” Matthews groaned and turned to Bernard. “Wandering.”

  “I will help.” He put down his pen and closing the study door, joined the crowd.

  “Miss Darcy!”

  “Rosa!”

  “Rosalie!”

  “Little love!” Mrs. Reynolds called. When Matthews turned to look at her she bristled. “Mr. Darcy calls her that.”

  “Whoa!” Mrs. Robbins cried desperately.

  Matthews rolled his eyes. “Hmph. Fan out, everyone.” Methodically, they began going through the rooms and at last Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Robbins came to the library. “Did you hear that?” Mrs. Robbins whispered. “Listen!”

  From somewhere in the room, they heard Rosalie’s voice as she talked to herself. Relief flooded through them only to be replaced by cringes when the sound of paper ripping and a book being thrown reached their ears. “Oh no!” Mrs. Reynolds dashed inside. “OH NO!” A number of books lay in a circle, open, mangled, some with pages torn, and in the centre was Rosalie, now mouthing a leather binding and looking up at the shelves. She got to her feet and put her foot on the ladder.

  “NO!” Came a chorus of voices from the assembled staff.

  Instantly she stopped and looked at the group of servants then pointed. “ook!”

  “Oh your father is going to be furious.” Mrs. Reynolds whispered. Mrs. Robbins snatched her up and took her straight up the stairs to the nursery, chastising her all the way out of relief and frustration. Matthews and Mrs. Reynolds approached the mess and he knelt down to the books.

  “Only three are torn and one truly ruined.” He said softly. “The rest can be pressed perhaps, to get the wrinkles out?”

  “Iron a book?” She said doubtfully.

  “Which one did she destroy? Not a first edition of something, I hope?” Conrad picked up the titles. “This is poetry.”

  “The master’s favourite.” Mrs. Reynolds moaned. “There is no hiding this from him.”

  “Well, give me the mangled ones, and I will attempt to smooth the pages.” Bernard accepted the stack of books. “They started reading to her, that is why she came in here.”

  “You make that sound like an accusation; they are always in this room.” Matthews took the four torn books and looked over the titles. “All of them are

  Robert Burns, and from the look of it, well-read.” He set them down on a table. “I will speak to Mr. Darcy when he comes down.”

  “I hope they do not dismiss Mrs. Robbins.” Conrad noted. “She loves that child.”

  “No, I will fight for her if that is the reaction, but this cannot happen again.” He looked around at them all. “Keep the doors shut on unoccupied rooms, keep the door to the kitchen shut at all times. There are too many ways for a child to be hurt here, not to mention how many things she might hurt with her cur
iosity. I do not look forward to her learning to climb up the stairs.” Matthews bent and picked up a loose page, and set it atop the stack. “Back to our duties.” He nodded at them all and left the room.

  “Oh dear.” Mrs. Reynolds looked back and closed the door behind them as they all filed out.

  7 SEPTEMBER 1811

  Lady Matlock wrote to me that after three weeks, Richard and Evangeline seem to be settled in the dower house. It is a beautiful home, it is nearly as large as Longbourn, and far enough from the mansion to maintain both privacy and some semblance of sovereignty over their lives. Evangeline did not miss a step moving in. She was mistress of Meadowbrook for years after Ellen Harwick’s death, so operating this home presents no difficulty whatsoever. Richard has dived into work. He has taken no time to relax with his retirement from the army, and Lady Matlock worries to see him working so hard. That he stays out with the steward all day, beyond even his father and brother’s desire to work is a testament to his determination, and clearly a product of his days as a colonel, but it does nothing to save his legs. Evangeline feels that he suffers as much now as before, and despite her urging, he will not slow. A man and his pride, I suppose.

  “I was thinking of going to visit.” Darcy looked up at her. “Just to look in on him, let him know how my search has progressed. And try to convince him to relax.”

  “By yourself?”

  “No, I was hoping that we could go together. It is not far at all to Matlock, we could go early in the morning, spend the day there, undoubtedly we would be invited to spend the night, then come home in the morning, or afternoon.”

  “No Rosalie? No sisters? No Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth sighed and rested against his chest. “Just us?”

  “Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “The girls have Mrs. Annesley, Rosa has Mrs. Robbins, Bingley is quite old enough to look after himself, and he is here to take care of anything that might arise. I think that we have been dutiful parents long enough and deserve a little holiday.”

  “To a relative’s home.” She looked up at him with a little smile. “Not quite a second honeymoon.”

  “Would you really like one?” Darcy sat up and searched her eyes. “Say the word love, and we will be off. Now is the time, before the pregnancy is obvious, and you are too tired to enjoy yourself. And when the new baby comes, you will be feeding him, and there is no doubt that we cannot leave.”

  “Without Rosa?” She glanced at the three drawings she had received for her birthday.

  Darcy followed her gaze. “Would you truly relax if she was with us?”

  “Would I relax if she was absent?” Elizabeth bit her lip and he nuzzled her neck. “We do not have time, do we? Not to do something really enjoyable, like visiting the Peaks.”

  “No, I suppose not. We will be leaving for London in a few weeks, then to Netherfield.” He looked at her sadly. “We should have thought of it sooner.”

  “We will be free of guests soon enough.”

  “Yes, by becoming guests!” He laughed. “Is Kitty sure that she wants to return to Longbourn?”

  “She did not have the same experience there that I did, Will. She was neither neglected nor praised. Mama accepted her, and Papa let her be. She is simply a happy girl who tries to fit in wherever she is. I think that she would like to spend time with Jane now. With Georgiana returning to school, she will not have anyone but me to occupy her here, and she sees how busy I am. Mrs. Annesley will go with her, and maybe do Mama some good in the process.”

  “But she could be learning from you. You are the greatest teacher she could have for being the mistress.”

  “Kitty is not destined for a future in our sphere. I just do not see her married to someone with a great estate.” She shrugged when his brow furrowed. “Do you?”

  He studied her while he thought then answered slowly. “No. I suppose not. Mr. Evans looks at her, I noticed.”

  “Yes, Mr. Evans does.” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “But I think he is just enjoying seeing such a happy girl. She is too young and before you say it, she is not me.” She laughed and removed her hand from his lips when he kissed her fingers. “And he is in no hurry either.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I asked.”

  “You did not!”

  “Of course, I did! I did not come straight out and ask if he liked my sister! I do have some tact!”

  “I am waiting to hear what it is.” Darcy looked at her sceptically. “Go on.”

  “I merely asked what his opinion was of the couples he marries, which ones he felt would be successful and if the age of the bride and groom had any bearing on their future happiness.” She lifted her chin when he chuckled. “And he said that he would not consider marrying a girl younger than eighteen, and preferably twenty or more.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because she would have experience, and when she came to him, she would not wonder if she had made a mistake if she had waited a little longer.”

  “And she would not be a giggling girl, but wise to the purpose of marriage?” He kissed her nose and lifted his brows. “Of course you were none of those things.”

  “I never giggled.”

  “I have heard one on occasion.”

  “Did you mind?”

  “No, love.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come.”

  “Where?”

  “I have a belated birthday gift.”

  “Very belated!”

  “Well it only just arrived! War makes delivery difficult!” Laughing, he took her hand and they exited their chambers.

  “War!” Elizabeth laughed. “What does that have to do with my birthday?”

  “Your gift is from the continent.” His eyes twinkled as hers grew round. “You see, I had to work quickly to find a gift for you on your day.”

  “So the picnic and lovemaking on the precipice overlooking Pemberley was not your original plan?”

  “No.” He chuckled when her mouth opened and he stopped to take advantage of her tongue. “mmm. I improvised very nicely, I think.”

  “You certainly did!” She sighed and leaned on him as they started to walk again. “I would not mind having that repeated. Vigorously.”

  “Vigorously?” Darcy slipped his hand around her waist and kissed her ear. “How vigorously?”

  “Hold nothing back, Husband.”

  “Forget the birthday gift; let us return to our room.” He started to turn her around when they heard Rosalie’s voice, and indistinctly heard Mrs. Robbins talking in a low rapid tone. “What is that about?” They walked out to the landing and saw them disappearing upstairs. They looked at each other and hearing Rosalie laugh he shrugged and they continued down the stairs.

  “Mr. Darcy, sir.” Matthews caught his attention. “When you have a chance, I would like to speak with you.”

  “Is it pressing?”

  “No sir, not at all, whenever you have time.” He nodded at Elizabeth and walked away.

  “Something is in the air.” Elizabeth whispered. “Mrs. Reynolds just looked this way and nearly ran.”

  “Perhaps I should go after him?” Darcy looked down the hallway in the direction Matthews had taken.

  “No, he said it could wait, and you do have a present for me.” Elizabeth tugged at his waistcoat. “Come on, show me!”

  Chuckling, he kissed her cheek and they kept on until they entered the library. Closing the door behind him, he joined her, and pulled away the cloth that covered her gift. “Here we are.”

  “What is it?” Elizabeth looked over the beautiful mahogany box and back up to him.

  “Open it.” He smiled and watched as she lifted the lid and gasped. “A new music box.”

  “Oh Will!” She squealed and turned to hug him before turning back to the box. “Look at all of the songs!” She lifted up the rolls, “There must be twenty!”

  “Almost, fifteen.” Watching her look at each in wonder, he took one from her hands and put it in place, pulled the lever to wind the
mechanism, then let it go. “Listen.”

  “Ohhhhh.” She sighed as the gentle notes filled the room. “A waltz!”

  “Scandalous.” He whispered and slipping his arms around her waist, swayed behind her, nibbling on her throat and pressing his groin to her back. “Do you like it, love? It is still just an experimental one, but I had a standing order to ship as soon as the craftsman was ready to sell. Do you like it?”

  “If you dance with me like this, how can I not love it?”

  Darcy closed his eyes and rubbed his hands down her hips and back up over her belly to her breasts. “Dance with me?”

  “I am.”

  “That is not the dance I want.” His tongue traced over her ear. “I locked the door …”

  “Lovemaking with music?” She turned and saw his warm darkened eyes. “How long have you thought of this?”

  “Forever.” He kissed her and went back to the music box, picking up the largest roll and setting it in place. He turned around to find Elizabeth waiting by the chaise lounge. He removed his coat and loosened his cravat. “Too many clothes, love.”

  “We cannot be too long.” She smiled when he walked up to her and took her back up in his arms. “We cannot be vigorous.”

  Darcy started to laugh, then holding her closer he bowed his head, his chest rocking with his chuckling, and his grip around her body tightening. “Oh Lizzy, the more vigorous I am, the shorter the lovemaking.” He loosened his grip a little to find her eyes sparkling up at him. “Don’t you know that by now?”

  “I had noticed …” She was silenced with his mouth on hers and a kiss that stole her breath. He allowed no opportunity for any response other than her mouth and tongue stroking his just as hungrily as he devoured hers. Putting out his hand, he lowered them down to the chaise, still kissing, and with his knee separating her legs, he quickly opened his breeches, and tore away just long enough to raise her skirt, and look up at her. Elizabeth reached for him and tugged his swollen, burning pole, bringing his hard body inside and on top of her.

  “So tight.” He groaned and started moving, hard and fast. “Oh I think about this constantly, Lizzy.”

 

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