Memory: Volume 1, Lasting Impressions, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (6 page)

“Brother, are you well?”  She asked in a small voice, stepping forward and holding out a handkerchief.

Darcy blinked and realized his cheeks were damp.  He drew up his shoulders and took out his own cloth and wiped his face.  “I am fine, dear.”

She tucked her handkerchief back in her sleeve.  “I . . . I thought that maybe you could read to me.  Do you remember Papa used to read to me?”

“You were a little girl then.”  He smiled then saw her face fall.  “Of course, I will read to you.  Just let me finish my work and I will come to you.  Will you be in the music room?”

“Yes, and I will play for you if you wish.”

“I would like that very much, thank you.  I must order you a new instrument now that you are making such excellent progress and new sheet music as well.  Perhaps you would like to try the harp next?”  He smiled as she left the room, and then it fell away. 
I wonder if Father was correct to leave Georgiana in my care?  A man does not shed tears!  How can I care for her if I cannot control my emotions!
  He felt ashamed that she had seen him behaving so weakly and vowed it would not happen again, then a thought entered his mind. 
Would a woman I court be unhappy that I have a young sister to care for?  Would that make me unattractive?  Would Lizzy care?
Shaking Elizabeth out of his head he closed his journal and went back to work until an hour later when Mrs. Reynolds appeared at the doorway, her lips pursed tightly.  

“Sir, the staff is enjoying its day of feasting and would like to thank you for allowing them the time to themselves and their families.”  She added pointedly, “I have sent tea in to the music room for you and Miss Darcy.”

He set down his pen and he smiled at this mother hen.  “Yes, I have been too long in joining her.  Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”  Rising, he walked down the hallway, and hearing Georgiana playing his birthday song, walked a little faster.  She had mastered it months ago, and would be an exceptional performer one day.

Darcy clapped and smiled when she finished.  “Excellent dear, truly excellent!”  She stood and he opened his arms to give her a hug.  “Please forgive my tardiness.”

“You work too hard.”  She said softly into his waistcoat.  “Why do you work all of the time?  Even today?  Reverend Repair would be unhappy with you.”

“He would at that.”  He smiled and ruffled her hair.  They sat down and he watched as she very carefully poured out the tea, obviously this was a recent lesson.  “I am only trying to fulfil our father’s request of me.”

“What did he ask you to do?”

“He asked me to remember that I am a Darcy.”  He saw her confusion.  “We must be very proud of our family, Georgiana.  Our family has been here for nearly eight hundred years, which is as good as royalty.”  He lifted his chin.  “You and I have a great deal of history on our shoulders.  Our ancestors are watching us to make sure that we do not bring shame to our name.  So my position is to work hard and yours is . . .”

“To become very accomplished?” 

He nodded and regarded her seriously.  “Yes.  We must both do our duty.  Now, shall I read to you?”

She looked at him doubtfully.  “Will it be something happy or will it be a history book?”

Darcy smiled a little.  “Very well, I hear you.  No more history tonight.  I will read whatever you like.” She jumped up and laughed, running to get her book and he called after her, “but Georgiana, please, no novels!”   

“COME IN MY DEAR, come in.”  Mr. Bennet put down his paper and smiled to see Elizabeth peeking in the doorway.  “What tears you away from the merry making?”  He noticed her journal in her hand and guessed that she had taken a moment to chronicle the events of Christmas Day.

“Oh Papa, there is only so much noise one can take in an evening.”  She smiled and he chuckled as she settled down in her favourite chair to keep him company. 

“I understand entirely hence my seclusion here, but why would you wish to miss this time with your aunt and uncle?  You seem to enjoy your visits with them.”  He raised his brows and stirred from his desk chair to sit across from her, and waved to begin their nightly chess match.

Elizabeth moved and he quickly countered, sitting back to watch as she deliberated.  “I do enjoy my visits with them, very much.  It is educational.”  She glanced up and moved her bishop.

He responded and relaxed.  “Educational?  Interesting term to choose.  And what can you learn in London that you do not see here?  People are people wherever they are.  They may have different homes or clothes or occupations, but the personalities are the same.”

Elizabeth moved and he took her queen almost instantly.  She glared at him and he shrugged.  “But are not those people influenced by their circumstances, giving us an endless variety to examine?”

“I suppose that is true.”  He chuckled to see her hopeless attempt to anticipate his strike and looked at her with a raised brow.  “Check.”

“I give up.”  She sat back and sighed.

“No dear Lizzy, you must never give up.  Tenacity is an excellent quality to possess.”

“Mama would call it stubbornness and label it unattractive.” 

“Your mother does not appreciate the subtle difference.  You should.”

“Mama says that I will never catch a man if I do not stop speaking my mind.”  She met his eye and said hesitantly.  “She says I am too much like a boy.”  

“ah.”  He said softly.  “That is a barb sent to me.  Sometimes your mother is not quite so silly.” 

“What do you mean, Papa?”  Elizabeth leaned forward to try and read his face, but he gave her no clues.  “Papa?”

“Enough of this child; go out and join the family.  Expand your education by observing the difference between town and country, and try to decide which you prefer.”  He saw her concerned expression.  “Do not allow my musings to upset you.”

“Yes, Papa, but I wish you would join us, your company is missed.”  She stood and kissed his forehead and left the room, closing the door behind her, and returning to the chaos of the Bennet household. 

“Lizzy!  There you are; it is time for you to exhibit!”  Mrs. Bennet pushed her forward.

“Oh Mama, my playing is so poor, I would not wish to subject our guests to it.”  She smiled at the gathered crowd.  “Surely Charlotte would perform very well . . .”

“I would much prefer to hear you, Eliza.”  Charlotte smiled as Elizabeth shot her a look.  “You must sing as well.” She added and pressed her lips together to contain her laughter.

“Is there anything else you would like while I am at it?  Shall I dance a jig?” 

“Miss Lizzy, do as you are told!”  Mrs. Bennet shrilled.  Elizabeth turned to respond when her aunt touched her arm.

“Lizzy.”  Mrs. Gardiner said softly.  “You are out, and when asked to exhibit, must do so graciously.  This is what a lady does.”

Immediately she blushed.  “Forgive me, Aunt.  I was not upset with the request for a performance so much as the way it was presented to me.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled.  “I understand, but the goal in both circumstances is the same.  The audience requests to hear your talent; and you must take advantage of the opportunity to display it.”

“But everyone here knows me, they will see nothing new.”

“Someday you may be in a situation before strangers and will need to show yourself to your best advantage.  Would not this experience before friends now give you the confidence you will need then?”  She nodded and sat back down. 

Elizabeth could not dispute the sense in that, and walked forward to sit at the bench.  Jane offered to turn the pages and she played first the piece she had been struggling to learn for months, and receiving the warm applause of her family and friends, relaxed and imagined herself in a drawing room in a fine home, and the eyes of a remembered gentleman upon her.  She smiled and her voice lifted in song.  When she finished she was rewarded with cheers and encouraged, broke into playing a jig to satisfy the young people, who jumped up to dance.

Mr. Gardiner looked to his wife and squeezed her hand as he spoke softly.  “That is her talent, her voice.  Perhaps we might find her a master the next time she comes to visit.”

“Will you ask Thomas?”

“I know that I should, but I hesitate.  He is so odd about their education.  You cannot care for your children and their futures if you never leave your study.”  Mr. Gardiner added fiercely, “Marianne, if you ever catch me doing such a thing to our children . . .”

“You never would, Edward.  You are already a caring father and pay them more attention than any man I know.  But what of your sister, why do you have such good views on education and she does not?”

“Francine is lively and I think she is bright, but our mother never challenged her or Margaret.  We had no governess, and Mother taught them the best as she could, but she certainly had no education.  They were left to find their futures by being personable and pretty, not by wit or talent.  Lizzy will have all of those things, imagine what she could do if she was given the proper guidance, she has such potential.  Her father sees it, but keeps it to himself.” 

Mrs. Gardiner watched as the girls danced with each other and the Lucas boys.  “That is what concerns me.

“If Thomas does nothing to educate his girls; surely Francine should know that the more accomplishments they have, the more attractive they would be to suitors.  They cannot win them with their dowry, should they not be given every other tool?  I know how worried she is about the future, but surely she should understand this.”

“She won a gentleman with her looks, as far as she is concerned that is all her girls need.”  He smiled sadly at his wife. “I grew up with her, I know.”  He looked over to Jane, smiling placidly as Robert Lucas spoke to her.  “I believe that Jane will suffer for her serenity.”

“Jane?”  Mrs. Gardiner said with surprise.  “Surely you jest!”

“Well, what are her accomplishments?  She is good with a needle and behaves as a lady.  She is not witty or well-read, nor talented with music or art.  She is kind and well-behaved, but truly Marianne, do not tell me that she will not sacrifice herself to the first man who offers her a home and security for her family.  She will not speak up for herself and her desires.”

“Lizzy said something like that this summer.”  Mrs. Gardiner said softly.

“She is no fool, dear.”  He smiled.  “I hope that our girls take after her.”

“Oh, and not after their mother?”  She raised her brow and received a kiss on her cheek.  “That is better.”  He chuckled.  “Well, I will invite both girls to come to us again this summer for a time, and we will see what we can contribute to their improvement.  The other girls, however . . .” She met her husband’s eye and smiled.  “Well, they are still young.”

28 MARCH 1808

At last I believe that Spring is truly on its way!  I have seen evidence of buds swelling on the apple trees and the happy activity in the animals as I take my walks.  It feels so good to have these occasional days of bright sunshine breaking up the days of incessant rain.

Elizabeth paused from her writing to look out the window and spied Lydia and Kitty setting off down the lane, probably to visit Maria Lucas, and smiled to see a bird alighting upon a tree branch, its beak filled with bits of dried grass for its nest.  A thought came to mind and she turned to pick up the book of poetry that lay by her side.

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,

Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,

Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The palm and May make country houses gay,

Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,

And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,

Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,

In every street these tunes our ears do greet:

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!¹

Giggling she closed the book.  “Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!”  She smiled.  “What a silly man to try and interpret what a bird would say!  I wonder at any man being so silly to try and write that down!”  She returned to her journal, writing of her latest endeavours to study the atlas her father had recently acquired and hoped to determine a way to interest her other sisters in places beyond their garden.

Darcy closed his book and slipped it into his saddlebag, then continued his solitary ride over the estate, humming to himself, “cukoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!”  Stopping again he looked down over the fields where the sheep had been herded for the night, leaving their manure for the coming planting, and saw the frolicking lambs dancing near their mothers.  It was a very successful spring in that respect, but he made a mental note that he must mark his calendar for several foxhunts beginning in autumn to control the vermin and protect his flocks.  His father’s death had cancelled such seemingly frivolous activity at the estate last year and he was now concerned that his newborn lambs might be targeted soon.  It was an error of judgment to not allow the hunts, and he had ignored his steward’s advice.  It would not happen again.  The man knew his business, and where his steward could not speak to him, his uncle could, and did.  Darcy simply had not been up for hosting guests, and did not feel he could while in mourning.  He watched with satisfaction as his shepherds trained a group of new dogs to look after the animals.  One item checked off of his list, he rode away to speak with Mr. Nichols.  He would leave for London in two days, and had to make sure that everything was in order at Pemberley before his departure.  He had no doubt that the estate would be left in good hands.

“The post has arrived, sir.”  Mrs. Reynolds informed him as a maid took his coat late that afternoon.  Darcy smiled slightly and adjusted the black armband.

“Thank you Mrs. Reynolds.  Is there anything that I must address for the household before we leave?  I do not intend to stay in town for the entire Season, but it will be several months before I return.”  He walked into the study and she followed him.