by Wells, Linda
“Why is that?” Samuel sat up and looked to the now crowing baby with concern.
“I am no physician, Son. I can only pray that she remains well. So many things can take a babe.” Hope began determinedly trying to climb up his chest. After one dangerously placed foot on his thigh made him wince, he found her a stuffed rabbit Susan had made and she happily sat on his lap and waved it. He looked up to Samuel and noticed his fixed attention on the baby. “I remember when you were this age.”
“Do you?” Samuel said softly. “Did I climb to the top of Mount Darcy?”
His father laughed. “I am sure that you did.” He kissed the top of Hope’s head and gave his attention to his son. “How are things at the manor? Fitzwilliam was looking forward to seeing Bingley again.” Samuel said nothing and looked down at his hands. Harding watched a tangle of emotions playing over his face. “What is it, Son?”
“I did not remain to eat, I … I left soon after the guests arrived, and went for a ride by myself. My conversation with Elizabeth left me with too much on my mind to be good company.” Samuel looked to the empty doorway and then met his father’s concerned eyes. “I have been thinking … I do not know you anymore. Who are you? Which Harding Darcy is true? And … can I expect the one that I know now to stay? I have spent a lifetime dancing around you …”
“Was I always so harsh?” He asked quietly.
“No.” Samuel sighed and rubbed his face. “My earliest impressions are different, maybe that is what gave me hope. But, it became worse about … five or six years ago … I thought that it was because I had entered Cambridge and I was preparing for my future … You demanded so much of me.” Samuel shrugged. “I do not remember you ever being so affectionate.” He looked to how his father held securely to Hope. “I suppose that you might have been. But then … I suppose that most children are set to work when they are six years old, and I should have been grateful that I had everything you could give me.”
“You did. You did have everything that I could give you.” They both looked at the baby who was staring at him so seriously. “I must have done something correctly, Son. Look at the man you have become.” Harding smiled. “I could not be prouder of you.”
“Thank you.” His eyes drifted to the baby and Harding followed his gaze.
“My words sound hollow?”
“I am not used to them. I … did not expect endless praise. Elizabeth told me of your mother’s journals, I know what you endured. Mother told me, too. If you never heard it, you probably do not know how to express . . Lord, I sound so selfish. Ignore me, Father.” He said disgustedly and started to rise.
“No.” Harding said clearly. “Please sit down. I understand better than I can say. I am sorry that I was to you what my father was to me. I did not set out to be that way, in fact I wished to be the opposite.” He tried to find a way to explain himself and finally found one. “I remember your brothers lying on the floor, just over there …” He pointed near the hearth and Samuel looked to the spot. “They lay there, coaxing you to crawl to them. They tried everything, waving a toy, bits of biscuits, even coming behind to give a push …” Harding’s eyes welled up and Samuel started to speak, but his father stopped him. His voice was choked, but he shook his head. “Do you not see? I can talk about them again.” He said hoarsely. “I can visit them, and tell them about you.”
“Because of Hope?” Samuel whispered and looked to the baby.
“I utterly rejected her, just as I utterly rejected life when I lost the children. Call it what you will, melancholia … grief … anger or disappointment … I was numb, because if you are numb, you do not feel pain. The problem is, you do not feel happiness either, and when you do allow the feelings to come out, they are explosive.” Samuel thought of his father’s rages and nodded slowly. “I made myself absent from your life …”
“Hardly. If anything you meddled to the point that I was sick of you.”
“Is that so?” Harding laughed. “I did not realize …”
“It was in a controlling way, but I … thought that it might be a way of expressing your … I hoped that it was affection, of some sort, even if it scared the devil out of me.”
“It was.” Harding looked down at the baby. “I pray that I am a better parent now.”
“You confuse me.”
“In time, maybe you will believe that it is sincere.” Harding looked up to him. “You are my only son. My only living child. Hope is a gift, and I will love her until the day I die. But you are my flesh. I hope that one day, you will not think of who I was, but … who I strive to be.”
“Do not disappoint me, sir.” Samuel spoke quietly.
“I have done enough of that for several lifetimes.” He said seriously. “I do not ask for forgiveness. But I will settle for tolerance.”
“I think that I can do better than that, Father.” Samuel swallowed and held out his arms. “May I hold her?”
“Of course.” Harding handed the baby over and she stared up at Samuel curiously.
He looked down at her and smiled into her mother’s eyes. “I have decided to take some rooms in Lambton. Winter will be upon us before long and … I do not relish travelling there and back when the roads are difficult.”
Harding closed his eyes and nodded. “That seems to be a wise decision.”
“I thought that I should establish myself in the town, let people know me … frequent the establishments, that sort of thing.”
“Very wise and admirable.”
“I spoke to William about it, too. He agreed and naturally offered to help me …”
“Naturally.” Harding smiled and then laughed softly.
“But I … I have an income and there is no reason why I cannot pay for this myself. I am not rejecting you or Mother, I just … William will have his own family before long and … I thought that it might be time for me to move out of his way.”
“I can hear him protesting that vehemently. Pemberley is large enough for more than one Darcy.”
Samuel heard something in his father’s voice that he could not identify, but somehow he knew that his statement was very significant. He tried to understand the satisfaction that was clear in his father’s face. “Do you two manage some way to communicate through your thoughts? William said nearly the exact words.”
“Did he?” Harding looked down at his hands and wondered again what his nephew knew. “He is a far better man than I.”
“Elizabeth protested, as did Georgiana.”
“Georgiana did?” Harding looked back up. “Why?”
“I do not know.” He smiled and looked into her daughter’s eyes. “Maybe she will miss me?”
“You are not going to India, Son. We will expect you back frequently, weekly at the least.”
“Now I hear Mother’s voice in yours. Perhaps I will find a young lady …” He smiled as Hope patted his cheek approvingly.
“I think that you have.” Harding laughed when the baby’s wide open mouth latched onto his cheek. “Have you ever had such a kiss?”
Samuel laughed and tried to detach Hope. “I have not had that many, Father. I do admire her determination.”
“That is the Darcy in her.” Harding said proudly.
“May she have a great deal of it.” Samuel picked her up and cuddled her on his lap. “You will break hearts, one day, little girl.”
“Well, she has already conquered ours.” Father and son looked at each other. “Allow me to earn your trust, Son.”
Samuel drew a breath and nodded, then caught a glimpse of his mother standing at the doorway with a handkerchief pressed to her mouth and tears streaming down her face. “It is my honour, sir.”
CAROLINE HAD BEEN CORDIAL, although as expected, she was still fawning over Darcy. Throughout the length of the tense dinner, he had raised his eyes more than once to his wife, silently begging for rescue before his tongue was set free. And every time, Elizabeth had adeptly turned the conversation away from him. The admiration in his look
was lost on nobody at the table, including the cause of his distress.
With the meal completed, the ladies took their leave. Elizabeth led the way, and when she passed Darcy, he captured her hand and raised it to his lips. She blushed as his mouth lingered over her fingers at least four heartbeats too long. His eyes held hers, and they exchanged a wordless message.
“We will be only a moment, dearest.”
“I will be watching the time.”
Evans bustled about the room, setting glasses and a decanter before Darcy. Checking to see that a chamber pot had been removed from a sideboard and set into place, he took one last sweeping look over the room and left, closing the door behind him.
Hurst immediately stood and went to make use of the receptacle. “There is a powder keg if I ever saw one. Mrs. Darcy looks ready to throttle Caroline, and rightfully so. She has no business coming to your table and toadying to you in that way. What does she think will come of it?”
“I have no idea.” Darcy was watching Bingley. “But it made for an uncomfortable meal. My wife has enough on her shoulders and she does not need to bear difficult guests. I am greatly looking forward to this ball. Since we married, we have had no opportunity to dance properly and Elizabeth is working so hard to prepare the house. I want this to be a wonderful experience for her. If it means that tonight she must unleash her frustration upon Miss Bingley to set her in line, then so be it.” Pouring out the wine for the three men, he put the stopper back in place. “I am sure that Mrs. Hurst spoke to her before arriving, but the temptation for Miss Bingley to be herself is too great.”
“That is true enough.” Hurst lifted his glass and took a sip. “It frankly amazes me that she cannot let it go. I suppose that she will never change.” Darcy sighed and Hurst laughed. “Now, your sister … my heavens, Darcy! Miss Darcy is an entirely different girl. Girl? Woman! What a difference a year makes! She is beautiful!”
“Yes, she is.” Darcy’s slight smile lifted his lips. “But she is still sixteen.”
Bingley spoke softly, “Do you remember, not so many months ago, I was standing in your study at Darcy House, and we discussed you and I marrying each other’s sisters?”
“We admitted that it was a passing thought for each of us.” He sat forward and watched his friend. “I said that it was because I could trust you wholeheartedly, but that it would be many years away, if ever. Obviously that notion is forever ended. I remember you were full of joy about Jane at the time.”
Bingley sat quietly, running his finger over the top of his glass. “Right.”
“What is it?” Darcy asked.
“The tension tonight was not just between Caroline and the table.”
“No.” Darcy sat back. “No, it certainly exists between Jane and Elizabeth.” Bingley’s head shot up and Darcy’s brow creased. “That is not what you saw?”
“I … I meant myself and Jane. What is it with Elizabeth?”
“I am sorry; Bingley … Elizabeth has felt Jane’s disapproval of our absence from Longbourn for some time. She was quite nervous about her sister’s arrival.”
Shaking his head, Bingley stood and paced across the room and then ran his hand through his hair. “So it is not just me. I apologize Darcy, on behalf of my wife. I have spoken to her about this.” He finally lighted by a window. “Did I make a mistake in marrying her?”
Darcy and Hurst exchanged glances. “For both of your sakes, I hope not. What is wrong?”
“I know how … everyone expressed their doubts of her. That she was too complacent, too pleasant, too … perfect. You made jokes about how we were so much the same, always looking for the best in everyone …” Bingley looked at Darcy. “You know why I do.”
“Of course.” Darcy smiled. “We both lost our parents and lived through difficult times. Your solution to being accepted as a gentleman was to put it behind you and attack life with joy. Mine was to hide in my work until I found my Lizzy. Now I am ready to live with the expectation of great happiness.”
“I have rubbed off on you?” He managed a smile.
“My wife does the rubbing.” Darcy winked while Hurst snorted and raised his glass. “You are but an example of a very good friend, and Jane is like you.”
“No. Jane has never faced adversity before.” Bingley sighed. “Maybe I saw in her what I hoped for, but not what was there. Maybe I saw Elizabeth throwing herself wholeheartedly into marriage with you and thought that the sisters were alike, only Jane fit my ideal of beauty and temperament. I do not know. I have changed greatly since we met and married. I suppose that I hoped she would grow with me.”
Darcy studied his friend. “When did you make the absolute, irrevocable decision to propose?”
“When she came to me in London.”
“I remember that day.” Hurst nodded. “It was just before Twelfth Night. She was remarkable.”
“Very well then, that is proof that she can feel passion for you.” Darcy nodded and starting, Bingley returned to his seat and leaned forward. “And what happened since then?”
“Mr. Bennet. It is as if that experience removed all of the life from her. Maybe she has dug herself into a hole and simply has no idea how to climb out.”
“I do not know what to tell you, Bingley. I hate to see you this way. You say that you have spoken of this to her, and yet it seems that no progress has been made.” He looked his friend in the eye. “However, I know that if ever there was a person who can help, it is Elizabeth. She wants deeply to restore her friendship with her sister. She hopes that you find a home nearby so that we can share our lives together. Elizabeth is not in the least hesitant to express her opinion, and perhaps, as she has a lifetime with Jane, she might know better what to do. And give her a hand out of that hole before it closes in on you both.”
“I should not rely on her to solve my problems.”
“You have grown!” Darcy grinned. “No, your job will be to continue the conversation after she has cleared away the clutter. Elizabeth is very good at stripping things down to their essentials and feelings be damned.”
“Do not give up, man.” Hurst smiled. “Look at Louisa and me.”
“Right.” Bingley tossed back his drink and set the glass on the table.
“Well, I promised my wife I would not be long.”
“When did you do that?” Bingley asked as he stood along with Darcy.
“Did you not see that smouldering look between them?” Hurst chuckled and finishing his drink, set it down. “Shall we bring some blankets to smother the fire that is erupting upstairs?”
“No. Let it burn.” Opening the door, Darcy ushered them out. “I would prefer to sift through the embers then watch it flare up again.”
I THINK THAT YOU SHOULD be prepared for Miss Bingley, Lizzy. She should be grateful for your invitation and offer to forward her chances to marry, but she does covet your position still. And I do not quite understand Jane. I am sorry that I am not so astute at reading characters as you, but even I can see that something is not the same with her. There are probably a hundred more things that I should be telling you, but honestly, I am fortunate that I remember anything for long. Pregnancy has left me in a fog, and I find that addressing my justifiable anger with my husband and attending to my duties at Longbourn is enough of a challenge.
“That does not bode well for me … if …” Elizabeth stopped herself and touched the slight swelling of her belly. Her husband had the confidence of a gladiator that all would be well. “I just wish that this queasy stomach of mine would settle. It must be nerves.” She said softly and picking up a letter from her Aunt Gardiner, laughed slightly, “What have I to be nervous about?”
Jane has always been so happy and at ease, nothing every touched her world, but I feel that the veil has been lifted a bit from her eyes. Experiencing your father’s decline and death has affected her unexpectedly. She was never close to him, so there must be something more at work here. I believe that you are correct in your perception, Lizzy. She
could not make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear this time around. Death is final. I wish that I knew what to tell you, dear. I have always loved Jane, but she is difficult to know. You are closest to her, and perhaps that is why she chooses you as her object for derision.
“Derision from Jane. I never would have thought that possible.” Elizabeth sighed and thought about the letters she had received from her sister over the past months. “I will have to speak with her to puzzle this out.”
She left her bedchambers after yet another visit to the closet; and made her way towards the drawing room where she had left the women. The men were in the dining room with their port, and she knew, as did Darcy, that this was the moment she had anticipated when he came to kiss her on the lawn that morning. “This is my home, and according to my determined husband, I must make that clear. Once again.” Elizabeth heard Caroline’s voice drifting down the hallway, and smoothing her hands over her skirt, turned towards the drawing room.
“May I say again, Miss Darcy, that I am overwhelmed by the change in you! It has been entirely too long since we last met. Why, then you were a mere slip of a girl, but I daresay you will turn every gentleman’s head when you are presented, what a lovely woman you have become!”
“Thank you, Miss Bingley.” Georgiana said self-consciously.
“I will have to chastise Mr. Darcy for keeping you from us! I so wish that he had brought you along when he visited Netherfield last autumn, surely he saw what excellent friends we were, almost like sisters. It was quite wrong to keep us apart.” Louisa glanced at Jane and seeing her smooth expression, cleared her throat and sent a pointed look to her sister. Caroline frowned, but moderated her tone, “Well, no matter, now we will see so much more of you in London.”
“I do not know exactly when we will be leaving. Brother said we would all go for Christmas, but now he may have changed his mind …” Georgiana looked helplessly to Mrs. Annesley.
She shook her head. “I had not heard that, Miss Darcy. I am sure that Mr. Darcy must take many things into consideration before planning a trip. Perhaps he has reverted to his original plans for us to be in London on our own.”