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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 48

by Wells, Linda


  “Wife!” They heard Richard bellow. “Where is the mistress of this humble home?” Elizabeth and Evangeline looked at each other and started to laugh.

  “Mrs. Darcy!” Another deep voice called. “Come out from hiding!”

  “Hiding?” Elizabeth hands went to her hips. “If I am not mistaken, Eva. Our husbands have been at their flasks.”

  “Eva!”

  “Well at least he remembered my name.” Evangeline said incredulously. “And to think I was crying over him a moment ago.”

  “The last time that Fitzwilliam was so vocal, it was courtesy of your husband.” They looked at each other, and Elizabeth, realizing that the wager had something to do with them, took off for the door. “Will! Here I am!”

  “Aha!” Darcy cried and started up the steps. Fitzwilliam spotted Evangeline and gave chase to his cousin.

  “Not so fast! I beat you in the race!”

  “I will beat you to the prize!”

  “Careful!” Elizabeth laughed.

  “Richard Fitzwilliam, if you fall down those stairs and break something, I will strangle you!” Evangeline declared.

  “I have never seen such foolishness!” Lady Matlock said sternly, but could not hide the smile on her lips. Alicia stood with her hands to her mouth, and gasped as the two men stumbled up the steps, shoving each other like schoolboys to gain the upper hand. At last they reached the landing simultaneously, panting and grinning before their wives.

  “What is this …” Elizabeth squealed as Darcy wrapped her up in his arms and immediately kissed her.

  “Richard!” Evangeline was silenced just as quickly by his ardent kiss.

  Lady Matlock and Alicia exchanged wide-eyed looks and, as the exit to the stairs was blocked by Darcy, and retreat to the sitting room was blocked by Richard, the matriarch took out her fan and struck both men on their shoulders. They jumped and let go of their wives. “Boys! Stop this foolishness this instant!”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Yes, Aunt Helen.” They looked at each other sheepishly. “Who won?”

  “I would say it was a draw.” Richard grinned down at Evangeline. “I won the race, but his legs are longer. I hope you are not ashamed.”

  “Oh you silly fool, if I have you back again, I could care less who wins.” Evangeline closed her eyes and hugged him. Richard kissed the top of her head.

  “I am back, my dear.” He looked to Darcy and Elizabeth, she was caressing back his mussed hair and he was smiling at her, his palm pressed against her belly. Fitzwilliam’s smile grew and he looked back at his wife and kissed her. “We will be fine.”

  “Well, I am going to Matlock to report this shocking incident to your Father.” Lady Matlock tapped Darcy with her fan so that he would move from the head of the stairs. “He will be most disappointed that he missed it.” She turned and smiled. “And most pleased that it happened. Come Alicia, we have a dinner to prepare.” Casting her eyes around at her children she nodded. “Do not even think of missing it.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Richard winked at Darcy.

  “We will be honoured to eat at your table, Lady Helen. Thank you.” Elizabeth leaned on Darcy and he held her close.

  “Stephen will definitely be annoyed to have missed this.” Alicia sighed. “I am disheartened that he did, too!”

  “A Viscount behaving so foolishly?” Lady Matlock headed down the stairs. “Never!”

  “Want to lay a wager on that, Mother?” Fitzwilliam called.

  Slowly, Lady Matlock turned to regard her son. “I will pretend I did not hear that.” A footman opened the door and Alicia smiled widely as she waved. It closed behind them and the two couples burst into laughter.

  “Are you well now, Richard?”

  Looking down at Evangeline he nodded. “Yes, dear. This time next year, I hope that we will be on our own once again.”

  “And in the meantime, no more races, no more days spent proving yourself?” She looked pointedly at his legs, and led him to the sitting room where he gratefully sank into a chair. “Promise me.”

  “You have my word as a … gentleman.” Looking into her eyes, he smiled and then caught Darcy and Elizabeth watching them from the door.

  “He might just make a gentleman yet.” Darcy said thoughtfully.

  “And what are the stakes for that wager?” Elizabeth laughed when his eyes lit up. “No! I was not serious!”

  “Too late, love!”

  “I AM OFF TO MEET MICHAEL, dear … Damn!” De Bourgh spotted a button hanging by a thread from his cuff and plopped down next to Mary. Without hesitation, he reached over to her sewing basket and took up a needle, bit off a length of thread, and easily began stitching it back into place, all while leaving his shirt and coat on. Tying it off, he raised his wrist to his mouth when he noticed a pair of scissors being held before his eyes. He smiled and extended his hand for her to snip. “Thank you.”

  “You sew.”

  “Oh.” He returned the needle to her pincushion. “Yes.”

  “I am speechless.”

  “Well it is not as if there were seamstresses shipboard.” He sat back and grinned. “All sailors can sew! We had to maintain our clothes, and the sails needed to be mended from time-to-time. Are you impressed?”

  Mary nodded her head in disbelief. “Do you embroider as well?”

  “No. But I knew some who did. I tried knitting.” Rubbing his jaw he laughed at her surprise. “Warm socks are much valued commodities, my dear.”

  “What other ways did you occupy yourself?”

  “Mmm.” He looked up and thought. “Reading, of course, lessons when I was a boy, there is always something to be cleaned or repaired on the ship, I carved a bit.” He laughed. “I made Mother a jewel box once from some bits of a ship that we blew up. I think she has it up in her chambers.”

  “Amazing. I do not know any man who is so handy.”

  “You do not know that many men.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “And I am lucky to have caught you before you did.”

  “I am glad that I did not have to meet them.” Mary smiled and looked down. “Perhaps we should offer your services to Robert.”

  “Oh, and help to repair that cottage. What did Jane say in her letter?”

  “That she had no idea it ever existed.” Mary picked it up and looked over the lines. “I did not either, but I never went wandering around the fields. I am surprised that Lizzy did not run across it at some point during her rambles.”

  “Maybe she did. From the state of disrepair, I can imagine her dismissing it and moving on. Perhaps she thought it was haunted.” De Bourgh laughed when she sighed. “Isn’t that the subject of those gothic novels you read?”

  “I do NOT read …”

  He pulled one out from behind her cushion and held it up to her. “Mrs. De Bourgh?”

  “Ohhhhh.” She grabbed it away.

  “Not a scholarly text.”

  “Hush.”

  “Will you be quoting words of wisdom or will you be wishing to act out the breathless lovemaking of the damsel in distress?” He started to lean in when they were interrupted by a maid.

  “Sir? A letter for you?” She curtsied and left the room. Mary was blushing furiously at almost being caught in a kiss, and de Bourgh was just as embarrassed. Quickly he opened the envelope and read.

  “It is from Mother, she is going to begin her journey home from Portsmouth, my coach arrived and she is more than ready to return here. She is probably en route now.” He smiled. “It seems that my sisters both have annoying mothers-in-law.”

  “Oh dear. What do they do?”

  “They disagree with everything she does and as she says here, I am far too old and sensible to argue with fools.” De Bourgh laughed. “That is my Mother.”

  “Does she feel that she is abandoning your sisters so soon after their sons were born?”

  “Not when the new grandmothers have announced that they plan to remain until their sons return from sea.” He lifted his
brow to her. “That could be months or even a year or more.”

  “No wonder your mother is ready to return here!”

  “It seems that our honeymoon has at last reached its end.” De Bourgh sighed. “You know that she will have you at work when she arrives. Visiting tenants, running this household, taking on Lady Catherine …”

  “I will be glad to have her help. I have muddled along with my lessons from Lizzy and Charlotte’s aid, but I am ready to take my place in the community.” She lifted her chin bravely.

  “Really?” De Bourgh kissed her and held her hand. “Honestly?”

  “I think so.” Mary whispered and seeing his smile, took his face in her hands and gave him a solid kiss. “Yes!”

  “That is my Mary!” De Bourgh cheered. “I never had any doubt.”

  “READ YOURS, MR. BINGLEY!” Kitty called.

  “Oh, let us see.” Bingley opened his letter, and seeing his eager audience; he began very slowly, “September twelfth, eighteen …”

  “The letter Mr. Bingley!” Georgiana sighed. “Not the date!”

  He folded down the sheet and smiled at her. “Patience is a virtue, Miss Darcy.”

  “Assume a virtue if you have it not.”9 Darcy said softly.

  “Georgiana is learning patience dear; after all, she is the one who encouraged Mr. Bingley to write legibly, and that requires the patience of a saint.” Elizabeth laughed and nudged him.

  “Perhaps I was referring to our guest?” He raised his brow and nudged her back.

  Bingley bowed his head to Georgiana, “Regardless of Darcy’s target, I must say that I appreciated the effort, Miss Darcy, all of my correspondents have expressed their relief.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled and whispered to Kitty. “It was awful.”

  Kitty giggled. “Mrs. Annesley would put a stop to that soon enough.”

  “I was a much less patient man, then.” Bingley defended himself. “I believe that I have improved.”

  “Ours is wearing thin.” Darcy looked at the letter. “What news?”

  Consulting the sheets again a warm smile spread over his face. “Ahhhhhh, my sister is with child!”

  “How wonderful! They have been trying for years!” Elizabeth clapped and Darcy waited for her to look around and kissed her, then drew her a little closer. “What does she say?”

  “She says that Hurst …” He laughed. “Hurst was so stunned that he fell backwards, luckily into a chair, and required several moments of … intense swallowing before finally leaping to his feet and kissing her full on the lips!” Bingley looked up at Darcy’s chuckle and the girls’ giggles. “He patted her waist and declared them accomplished at last!” Reading on he shook his head. “That evening, Robinson came over for dinner and Hurst was on him, shaking his hand and proclaiming what a beautiful day it was, and eventually Robinson cottoned on to what he was about. Good man.”

  “How is Mr. Robinson? Does she say?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Hmm?” Bingley’s brow creased as he read on.

  “Bingley?” Darcy watched him. “Is Robinson unwell? The baby?”

  “No … no, um, Robinson found a promising governess and will take Wallace home with him soon. Miss Martin sends her regards, Mrs. Darcy; she is helping Louisa with some sewing.” He looked up and back to the letter, then folding it, stood. “Excuse me, I … I forgot something that I need to do. I … excuse me.” He bowed slightly and left the room. Everyone exchanged confused looks.

  “What is wrong?” Georgiana looked out after him. “Is something wrong? He was so happy.”

  “I will go and see.” Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand and searched for Bingley, finding him at last in the billiard room, absentmindedly rolling balls down the table and watching them bounce off of the rails. “Bingley?”

  He startled and slipped a half-hearted smile on his face. “So tell me of your visit to Matlock, it was a success?”

  “I believe so.” Darcy said slowly, and closing the door behind him, went to take a cue from the rack on the wall. He handed it to Bingley and took another for himself. Automatically, Bingley began to set up the balls. “My cousin is not a man to admit weakness, particularly to his father and brother. I realized that he needed to prove to himself that he was fit to take on an estate, and that he was no less a man for giving up his commission. He just needed a reminder that he was there to learn and heal.”

  “I can understand his feelings. I am in a similar position, taking such a frightening step into the unknown. The more I watch you, the more nervous I become.” They leaned over the table and simultaneously struck their cue balls, watching to see which of them would play first. Darcy took his off of the table and stood back to observe as Bingley, with a practiced hand, struck the ball and watched the others break around the table. “The level of work is extraordinary. The last time I was here in summer, I do not think that I really took in what you did when you would disappear for hours into your study, or off with Nichols and his aides. I was caught up in the sport and the camaraderie with the other guests.” He looked at the stick in his hand and smiled a little.

  “Well, as much as we enjoy having guests …” Darcy chuckled when Bingley rolled his eyes. “Well, a few select guests, what you have seen over your visit is normal for my schedule when we are just home and alone.”

  “Separated from Elizabeth, you mean. I am amazed to see it is possible. You could not bear one night apart to see Fitzwilliam on your own.” He jabbed.

  “Perchance we were looking for a reason to escape our guest?” Darcy lifted his chin at his smiling friend. “She has her duties as well; conceivably I turn to my work so that she can accomplish hers?”

  “I think that she is glad to see the back of you in the morning.”

  “But it makes her doubly glad to see the front of me when I return.” He raised his brow and Bingley laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. “You do not have to be like me.” Darcy smiled to see his friend relax a little. “I will tell you the same thing that I told Fitzwilliam. Your steward can take care of most of it, but you do need to make your presence felt, and you do need to at least understand all that is involved so that you can make intelligent and informed decisions.” He studied him. “That is if you decide to purchase, a lease means very little responsibility for you.”

  “Well that is the goal, is it not?” Bingley’s mood evaporated. “That is what my father wished for, to purchase an estate.”

  “Tell me, has your attitude about your father’s wishes changed since Caroline’s death? It has been two months now. I notice that your humour has returned; something must have influenced that.”

  “I think that a great many things have influenced me. I am now grateful for the forced withdrawal from the world, I have spent a great deal of time reviewing my upbringing, and writing to Louisa, comparing our experiences. I can see where I was pushed differently than the girls, but I still see where we were all encouraged to reach as high as we could. The sad realization was that Caroline felt that she was a failure if she did not attain the highest status.”

  “Hence her desperate affair with Creary.” Darcy mused.

  “What?” Bingley startled.

  “Oh. I am sorry.” He closed his eyes. “You said that you were writing to Louisa, I just assumed that …”

  “Oh. Yes, she did tell me, I just did not realize that you …”

  “Hurst. He had intimated his suspicions of what had caused your sister’s death when he was here, and when his wife confirmed them, he was quite frankly infuriated with the risk she took with Creary and needed to vent his anger to someone, me.”

  “Oh.” Bingley sighed. “Well, I see that we all have the information now. Does Elizabeth …”

  “No, she only knows that Mrs. Robinson took a medication to cause the loss. I needed to reassure her about … death following a miscarriage.” Darcy glanced at him and Bingley studied his expression.

  “She is pregnant!” He realized, and thought of the glow that seemed to
shine from both of his friends’ eyes.

  “We have told no one but the staff.” Darcy spoke to his hands. “March, we think.”

  “Oh, still early days.” He nodded and reached his hand out to shake Darcy’s then slapped him on the back. “Congratulations! How is she?”

  “Very well, but increasingly sleepy.” Darcy laughed, then sobered. “Now, what has changed for you?”

  “I am not so concerned with my connections to trade anymore, and I am satisfied with my position in society. I have been accepted for who I am right now.”

  “You will keep the mills.”

  “I think so.” Bingley nodded. “And, I think that maintaining only a lease would be good for me as I feel my way through this.”

  “I see. What of Miss Martin?”

  “I am trying not to think of her at the moment.” He bit his lip and returned to his game.

  “Why?” Darcy stared down at the table and watched his friend miss the shot, then looked at him carefully. “With your decision to remain connected to trade, you clearly do not think that she is unsuitable, she has the same education as your sister, after all. Are you unsure of your feelings, or is it because you cannot bear to think of possibilities when you may not act upon them?”

  “There are elements of both, I am sure, the separation cannot help but inspire confusion, but there is a third reason.” He pulled the letter from his coat and handed it over to Darcy.

  He opened it and read carefully. “Louisa senses an attraction between Miss Martin and Mr. Robinson. This could mean anything, Bingley. Besides, the man is not even a quarter of the way through his mourning.”

  “She says that Miss Martin has taken a great liking to Wallace and that Robinson finds that attractive.”

  “After your sister’s behaviour, I would be shocked if he did not.” Darcy shook the letter. “This means nothing!”

  “Robinson may think that Miss Martin would be a good choice for Wallace.”

  “You are giving up so easily? A few lines, noncommittal lines, sway you? Come on Bingley, either you are looking for an excuse, which I find difficult to believe, or you are reading far too much into this. I think that Louisa is happily reporting that your brother is relieved to find that women do exist in the world who care for children. And Miss Martin is a woman who cannot help but be smitten by a child.”

 

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