Memory: Volume 1, Lasting Impressions, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (59 page)

“Lady de Bourgh!”  Mrs. Jenkinson said urgently.

Lady Catherine turned to Mr. Collins.  “I have much to do with my daughter.  You have the orders for the sermons.  Good day, sir.”

Bobbing and bowing, and with a shower of congratulations, the little man departed.  She turned to Mrs. Jenkinson.  “You will say nothing of this to Mr. Darcy.”

“Madam, Miss Anne cannot make such claims publicly!  Her dosage must not be strong enough now, we must call the physician!”

“You are in no position to question me, Jenkinson!  Now go see to your duties!”  She watched the woman flee the room and went to her writing desk to compose her nephew an important letter.

“MISS BINGLEY?”  The master of ceremonies caught her attention.  “Miss Bingley, may I present Mr. Wickham.”  The ball’s host bowed away and left the couple alone.  Wickham bowed and smiled at her, looking over her thin, but well-formed body as he did.  Caroline felt his eyes raking over her and could not suppress the thrill it gave her.  Nonetheless, she was not going to be too welcoming until she knew who he was. 

“Miss Bingley, I am very pleased to meet you.  When I entered the ballroom tonight and spotted you, I just had to be introduced.  I hope that I am welcome?  You are not attached to any gentleman here?”

“Mr. Wickham, the pleasure is mine, and no, I have no particular attachments here other than family.  I rarely attend balls of this nature.”  She lifted her chin and gave the room a disdainful look, then turned back to see him nodding with understanding.  “You feel the same?”

“Ah yes, I am much more familiar with St. James’, however, it is often enjoyable to see how others live.”  He smirked and saw that he had chosen well.  This was a woman who wanted to better herself.  Her gown, clearly a poorer version of what he had seen all Season amongst the ladies of the first circles, and her fondness for wearing excessive jewellery, identified her as one who was reaching, not one who had arrived.  Nonetheless, she had jewels, and did have access to a modiste.  She must then have money.

Caroline’s eyes lit up.  “St. James’s, oh yes, I plan to attend there again soon with my brother.  He goes often with his good friend Mr. Darcy.”

“Darcy?”  Wickham started, then recognized the ploy of a name-dropper, and smiled.  “Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley?”

“Yes!   Do you know him?”

“Of course, I lived with his family at Pemberley most of my life.  We know each other very well.  Are you good friends with him as your brother is?”

“I had hoped to be.”  She said with obvious bitterness.  “Unfortunately he has recently become engaged.”

Wickham nodded and smiled at her ambition, and inwardly cursed Darcy’s easy access to women.  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, yes shocking.  I know all about her, she comes from a small estate with little dowry.  I met her recently when I spoke with Darcy at Vauxhall Gardens.”

“What do you think of her?  I have not run across her yet.”  Caroline lied.  She was dying to hear something disparaging.   

“She is pretty, that is undeniable, but I can assume that you have so much more to offer a man.”  Wickham smiled and saw her blush.  “There is nothing to be done.  If Darcy has chosen a lowly maid as his wife it is his loss.  I imagine there is undoubtedly a fascinating story behind it, but the engagement is announced so he is gone.  Whatever is a fine woman like you to do?”

“Well, I will certainly not pine for such a fool.”  Caroline huffed. 

“Of course not, I should hope that instead you might dance with me?”  Wickham bowed and held out his arm.

Caroline looked over the charming handsome man and smiled.  “Yes, I would like that Mr. Wickham.  And you can tell me all about living at Pemberley; do not leave out a single detail.”

“I would not think of it, Miss Bingley.”  He smiled and led her away. 

ELIZABETH CLOSED HER EYES, trying to block out the undeniable truth that her mother sat next to her in the carriage on the way to Darcy House.  She could not decide if Fitzwilliam sending the carriage empty to retrieve them was good or bad.  She listened to her mother’s chatter and looked up briefly to notice her father’s amused smile.  Making only noncommittal responses to the insistent questions about Darcy House, at last Mrs. Bennet turned her attention to Jane.

 “Now, what progress have you made with Mr. Harwick?”

“I have done all that you taught me, Mama.  I have smiled and been demure.”  Mrs. Bennet nodded happily.  “But I do not feel that is enough.  He seemed to enjoy my singing when Lizzy asked me to accompany her yesterday.”  Jane smiled at Elizabeth who nodded, pleased to see some semblance of the sister she knew from Hertfordshire making an appearance.

“Singing?”  Mrs. Bennet asked incredulously.  “Well, I suppose.  How did he react?”

“He smiled Mama, and sat closer to me.” 

“And did you lean forward to display . . .” Mrs. Bennet glanced at her sister’s wide eyes and how she was looking across to the men.  Jane’s hand went to her mouth in shock; never before had her mother suggested showing herself off in such a manner.

 “Well, did he notice your beauty?”

“Mama, Mr. Harwick wants to see if Jane is a fit mother for his girls!”  Elizabeth cried. 

“And he wants a son!”  Mrs. Bennet snapped back.  Elizabeth looked to her father who had become interested in the passing scenery and did not say a word.  Mr. Gardiner stared expressively at his wife and closed his eyes.

Jane watched the argument play out and began to think of what she might do when she saw Mr. Harwick.  Her sister’s, her aunt’s, and especially Mr. Darcy’s words had begun to sink in, and then hearing Miss Stewart inquire after Mr. Harwick at the Derby made her realize that her position was tenuous indeed. 

Mrs. Gardiner slipped her hand over Elizabeth’s and squeezed.  “We are approaching the park Lizzy; it certainly looks different at this time of day.”  She smiled to see her niece look out the window.  “Just think; you will soon be able to walk here anytime that you wish.”

“Fitzwilliam told me that he enjoys looking from the windows to see the sun setting over the trees.  It reminds him of being at Pemberley.”

“Fitzwilliam?  That is a very informal way of referring to him, Lizzy.”

“We are engaged Papa, and I am amongst family.”  Mr. Bennet’s brows rose in surprise at her sharp address.  Clearly his daughter was very displeased with him.

“Which home is Darcy House?”  Mrs. Bennet asked eagerly, scanning the passing townhouses as they drove down Park Lane towards Grosvenor Square.

Elizabeth looked away from her father to touch the window.  “It is the grey one there, do you see?  Far down the street?”

“All of that is one house?”  Mrs. Bennet stared then turned in her seat, leaning over Elizabeth to gawk out of the window as they approached.  Mr. Bennet’s eyes widened, seeing at last the concrete evidence of Darcy’s wealth.  “Oh how very rich he is!  And his home in Derbyshire; is it similar to this?”  She eagerly looked between Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner.

“No Mama, Pemberley is quite different.  The only similarity is the colour of the stone.  There is a landscape of it in his study that he can show you when we tour the rooms.” 

“Why the townhouse is as large as Longbourn, even larger, I should imagine!  What is the size of Pemberley?  He has ten thousand a year; it must be a very great home!”

“Mama, please do not embarrass Mr. Darcy by speaking of his wealth.”  Elizabeth said in a low voice.

“Embarrass?  Surely he is not embarrassed to be rich?  You should be speaking of it to the entire world!  I know I have certainly made sure that all of our neighbours are aware of the fine match my Lizzy has made!”

“Suddenly I am
her
Lizzy.”  Elizabeth said softly and Jane heard her. 

“She is proud of the match you have made.”  Jane whispered. Elizabeth looked at her and sighed as she nodded resignedly.  The sisters squeezed hands and the carriage came to a stop. 

“
This
is a palace!”  Mrs. Bennet gasped.

“Perhaps you should ask about its size compared to St. James’.”  Mr. Bennet smiled when she turned to him and nodded vigorously.

“Why do you encourage her?”  Mr. Gardiner spoke angrily.  “Do you
want
your daughters to be rejected?”

“I doubt that they would be upset to be told how rich they are by a silly fawning woman.”  Mr. Bennet replied.

Inside of the foyer, Darcy stood with Harwick, watching out the windows for the carriage to arrive.  From the background they heard the sound of Fitzwilliam’s jovial voice and a woman’s amusement.   Glancing over to his companion, Darcy saw his head turned to look at the stairs.  “He is harmless.”

“A colonel in His Majesty’s army is harmless?” 

Darcy shrugged.  “Well, unless your sister is in Napoleon’s army . . .”

“I say again, an officer in the army is harmless?”

“She was married, Harwick, I imagine that she knows how to handle herself.”

“Hmm.”  He glanced back again and relaxed.  “It is good to hear her laugh.  Why is he here again?”

“He is performing reconnaissance for my aunt, he claims.  I think that he is just as curious himself.”

The men resumed their vigil until Darcy broke the silence.  “Are you sure of this?”

“I am sure that I need to meet her father.”  He said stiffly.  “I am sure that my daughters need a mother, and I am sure that I need to try for a son.”

“But are you sure . . . Forgive me, it is not my business.”  He cleared his throat. 

Harwick looked at his hands.  “She seems different, more welcoming, more interested in me.  I did enjoy the ladies singing to us last night.  Perhaps she realizes that the end game has come.”

“Was she discouraging before?” 

Harwick saw his blank expression and smiled slightly.  “Surely you noticed her reticence, Darcy.  At first I chalked it up to the behaviour of a demure woman, proper behaviour, not showing her interest too soon . . . but I have not been blind to the discomfort between the sisters.  I have to admit that her lack of enthusiasm was off-putting and intriguing.”

“Intriguing?”

“We are both the subject of interest by women in search of husbands; it was just interesting that a woman with such terrible prospects was not putting more of an effort into the match.  I have been forced to search for reasons to accept her, and that is unexpected.”

“I understand that she has always been told that her looks would capture the man and nothing more was necessary.”

“Her mother?”

“Yes.”

 “What an odd notion.  I mean beyond the initial capture of his attention, the girl does need to keep his interest going.  I admit I am a bit at a loss what Miss Bennet and I would do with each other if I brought her home, well besides the obvious, but there are many hours to the day, and one cannot always be at sport or business.”  He smiled to see Darcy look down.  “Forgive me for sounding so crass.”

“No sir, you have been married, and know better than I what the life is like.  You have made it clear that you are marrying to produce an heir, not to fall in love.  I am also aware that your decision is hardly made.  You bring up valid points.  Naturally I hope that Miss Bennet marries, I also recognize that it may not be to you, and will hold no grudge either way.”

“I appreciate that, I hope that her family feels the same way; my decision will be made based upon what will be best for my daughters and any future children.”

“I believe that may be part of the conflict in Miss Bennet’s behaviour.  While she knows she would marry you for duty, she cannot help but wish for . . .”

“Her sister’s match.  Yes, Darcy, I do understand that very well, which is why I did not give up on this idea of Miss Bennet sooner when my doubts began to surface.” 

“Sir, may I make one observation, and I will not speak of it again.  I think that you are a very good and sincere man, and that you truly believe that you wish to marry entirely without emotion so you will not be hurt again, but every time I see you remembering your wife, I cannot help but see that you must marry with some feeling or not at all.  I would hope that you are happy.  I would hope for the same for Miss Bennet.”  Darcy met Harwick’s eyes and said quietly.  “Forgive me if you feel that I have stepped beyond my place, I am thinking of my future sister and of a man who I have come to regard highly.”

“I appreciate that Darcy, sometimes it takes an impartial judge to point out the obvious.”  Harwick nodded and turned his eyes to the window when a carriage arrived in front of the house.

The door opened and a footman was there to hand them down.  Darcy saw them arrive and was on his way through the gate when Elizabeth stepped out first.  He had a smile ready for her but it disappeared as soon as she looked up to him.  Her beautiful eyes were the picture of distress.  “Dearest, whatever is the matter?” 

“Oh Fitzwilliam!”  Elizabeth took his hand and held it tightly.  “Papa brought Mama with him!”

“He
what
?”  Darcy looked quickly to the carriage as if he could see through the walls and back to Elizabeth.  “We arranged this meeting specifically so that Harwick would
not
be exposed to . . .Dearest, I fear that your mother’s presence will give your father reason to be amused at her antics instead of determined to make the match with Harwick as we had planned.”

“I have already been witness to it.” 

Darcy saw her struggle for composure and quickly guided her into the front hall, past Harwick who glanced at them with concern, and back to an alcove where they stood tightly embraced.  “Why is she here?”  He demanded.

“Papa could not endure listening to her complaints any longer, and decided that the surest way to peace was to allow her to come.”  Elizabeth’s frustration with her parent was obvious and he could feel her anger rising.

Kissing the top of her head, he rested his cheek in her curls before forcing himself to speak calmly.  “How has she been so far?”

“She is very excited, but nothing too mortifying.” 

Darcy could not hold back his laugh.  “Forgive me, dearest.  But your definition of mortifying behaviour by your mother is likely far different from that of my relatives’.”