Memory: Volume 1, Lasting Impressions, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (63 page)

“That is heartening.”  Darcy said softly.  “I do not believe that I feel very welcoming towards your parents, Elizabeth.  Do you mind if we do not invite them to Pemberley any time in the foreseeable future?”

“No, I do not, and your request is not unexpected, nor will it be a surprise to Papa, I think.”

“Your mother may not feel the same way.”

“I will leave Papa to deliver the news.”  They exchanged glances.  “I wished so much to be talking to you all night instead of my sister.”

“If it had been I in your bed Elizabeth, talking would not have been our occupation.”   His voice was low and warm.

“Oh, would we have played charades?”  She smiled and was surprised when he suddenly leaned down to kiss her.

“Oh.”

“That was for impertinence.”  He said with satisfaction.

“What will I receive for outright brazenness?”  She asked cheekily.

“Give me some time alone with you and I will be glad to demonstrate.”  He growled, then raised her hand to his mouth for a kiss, lowered it, and began lightly tracing his thumb over her wrist.  “Eight and thirty days.  This is far too long to bear.”

“I agree.”  She whispered and leaned against him as they slowly walked along.  “Tell me about my new home.”

“What would you care to hear?  I would be very happy to indulge your desire . . .would you like an accounting of the silver, or perhaps the number of footmen?”  He chuckled when she moved her hand from his and quickly retrieving it; continued his gentle rubbing.  “Shall I tell you how clean the air smells?  How the hills and valleys are alive with colour in the autumn; and the beauty of the peaks with their cap of snow in the winter?”  Hearing her sigh he continued, “I remember as a boy, a house filled with laughter and music.  I remember seeing my parents stroll through the gardens, and my mother’s hand trailing along, touching the flowers as they passed, and watching them disappear down a path that led to a little bridge over a brook.  I spied on them there one time, and saw them kiss.”  He looked back to her and softly brushed his lips over her cheek before looking forward again.  “I cannot wait to bring you home, dearest.  I have been away too long, and the next time I walk in the door, I will not be alone with my memories.  You will be there to make new ones.”

Elizabeth studied his expression. “I have nothing to compare with your memories of seeing your parents together.  I hope that I will not disappoint you.” 

He returned his gaze to hers and his mouth lifted in his little smile.  “What are we doing together right now?  We are walking and talking, and I assure you, I am relishing the experience.  I hope you are as well.  Do not doubt yourself, Elizabeth.  Do not let anyone tell you that we are not suited.  The only way that would be possible is if
you
felt that I was not suited for you.  Do you think I am not your perfect match?”  He lifted his brow and saw her eyes roll.  “Am I not?”

“Fitzwilliam.”

“Tell me, love.  Tell me I am not your one true match and I will walk away, leaving you to search the world for that perfect man . . .”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because you are not answering me.”  He caressed her wrist some more.  “Tell me you find me hateful; tell me I am the last man in the world you would ever marry.”

“You sir, are no gentleman!”

“And you love me.”  Darcy said triumphantly.  “Admit it, you do.”

“I do not recall saying that I felt otherwise, sir.”  Elizabeth spoke with a glint in her eye.  “Mr. Darcy, sir.”

“I love you, too.”  He whispered, and touched the chain for the locket, then smiled when she lifted his hand to kiss his ring.  “Obstinate girl.”

“Mulish man.”  They laughed and he continued answering her questions about Pemberley.  Behind them walked Jane and Bingley, entertaining themselves with comments about the couple ahead. 

“I promised I would leave them alone, Miss Bennet, and I am a man of my word.”

“I promised much of the same, sir.  They cannot really behave too badly in such a public setting, although I imagine my aunt might disagree.”

“That is the job of an aunt!  I have several who find my sense of humour deplorable!”  He smiled and shrugged.  “But it is mine and I will not allow a disapproving frown to quench my happiness.”

“You are a very happy person, Mr. Bingley.”

“What have I to be unhappy about?  Well, perhaps I am impatient; I should try to do something on that score.”

“And what are you anxious to do?”

“Oh, scads of things!  I want to purchase an estate, I want to be accepted by the
ton
, I want to marry and have a family, many things, but I have a good friend in Darcy and as the Bible says,
to everything there is a season
, and mine has yet to come.”  He saw her head tilted as she listened.  “I have to grow up, to put it plainly, Miss Bennet.”

“But you are one and twenty; Mr. Darcy inherited Pemberley when he was but a year older.”

“I am no Darcy.”  He laughed.  “No, maybe in a year or two I will settle down.  And you; how goes it with Mr. Harwick?”

“That is a good question.”  She smiled when she saw his kind eyes and looked down. “I think that I have some growing to do as well.”

“There is no shame in that, Miss Bennet.”  He laughed.  “I am reminded of it daily!”  Looking ahead he said quietly.   “Shall we disturb the lovers?”

“What of your promise?”  She asked with a smile.

“Miss Bennet, I have a feeling that once walking those two would be at it all day, and truly, I am no walker.  Let us steer them onto the path home.”

“I will agree because I am no walker either.”  Jane smiled and he chuckled.  “Mr. Bingley, if I do not have the opportunity later, I want to thank you for your company today.”

“Delighted, Miss Bennet, and may you have the best of luck tonight.” 

MRS. JENKINSON CAREFULLY LIFTED the basin of blood and walked to the chamber door where she handed it off to the waiting maid.  She returned and watched the physician wipe his hands and step back from his feverish patient.  “She is struggling, but I think this bleeding will do the trick.”  He nodded and looked back to her companion.  “I do not think that we will bleed her again.  Keep the compresses on her forehead and I will return tomorrow.”

“But what of her delusions, sir?”  Mrs. Jenkinson asked anxiously.  “She still believes herself to be married.”

“What occurs when you correct that thought?”

“She is very violent sir, I wonder if we might increase the strength of her elixir?  It will not do to have her making such statements.  It could harm both her and her cousin.”

“Would it hurt to humour her, though?  While she is so ill?  Could you simply placate her ranting and tell her that Mr. Darcy would not like his wife to be so demanding?”  He raised his brow and patted her arm.  “If you do not wish to see her taken to an asylum, she must be controlled in some manner at home.”

“Will she die, sir?”

“She is very weak, that is true.  It is in the Lord’s hands now.  I will speak to her mother.”  He removed a bottle from his bag and handed it to her.  “Two spoonfuls with a glass of wine.”

He left the room and Mrs. Jenkinson turned back to her charge, and touched her forehead.  Anne’s eyes opened.  “Fitzwilliam?”

“Mr. Darcy is not here, Miss Anne.” 

“Where is he?”  She cried.  “Why does he not come?”

“He is travelling.”

“Here?”  She grabbed Mrs. Jenkinson and the cut the physician made in her arm began bleeding freely again. 

Holding her down, she said calmly, “I am sure he will come as soon as he can, Miss Anne.”

“Why do you call me that?”  She sat up again, defying her weakened condition.  “I am the mistress!”  She stood and stumbled to the door and pulled it open. 

“Miss Anne!”

“Mrs. DARCY!”  She lurched across the hallway and into the mistress’s chambers, collapsing onto the bed.  “My chambers.  My husband is the master!  Why is my mother still in our home?  Out!!  I want her out!!”  She demanded. 

Footmen came running and Mrs. Jenkinson looked at them quickly and had an idea.  “Miss de Bourgh wishes for the dowager’s house to be opened and her ladyship moved in.  Please tell the steward.”

The footmen stared at her open mouthed and did not move.  Anne rose from the bed, and began taking her mother’s belongings and throwing them to the floor.  “OUT!”

“You heard your mistress, now move!”  Mrs. Jenkinson urged.  Returning to Anne’s chambers she took up the bottle of laudanum and mixed a new dose, then approached her.  “Mrs. Darcy, please drink your medication.”

Anne stopped her movement and looked at Mrs. Jenkinson.  “Mrs. Darcy?”

“I am sorry for calling you Miss Anne, but you have been my dear Miss Anne for so many years, you will not mind so much if I slip and call you that will you?”  Mrs. Jenkinson smiled and Anne relaxed and nodded.  “He is very concerned for your health.  He does not want you to become upset and delay your recovery, and remember, he likes how sweet and demure you are, you must not let him see you so upset and disappoint him when he comes.”  She held out the glass and Anne happily drank it down.

“He worries for me.”  She murmured and sank back onto the pillows.  When she was asleep, Mrs. Jenkinson began wiping up the blood that was drying over her arm and night dress.  Lady Catherine arrived and looked at the scene.

“What is this?”

“Shhh.  My Lady, your daughter has asserted her rights as mistress and has ordered you to the dowager’s house.”

“She
what
?”

“I believe that even if she did not think herself to be Mrs. Darcy she had that right, is she not the true mistress of Rosings, madam?”

Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed.  “What are you about, Jenkinson?”

“This is your daughter’s delusion, madam.  You have chosen to perpetuate it.  I am merely following orders.  She demands the mistress’s chambers and you . . .out.”  She watched in satisfaction as Lady Catherine spun and left the room.  She looked back to Anne and murmured, “Well something good is coming of this.”

“EXTRAORDINARY.”  Lady Matlock murmured.  “And you say that the man was wholly unrepentant?”

“He undoubtedly did not wish to trouble himself with facing the consequences of his actions.”  Fitzwilliam crossed the room to poke his finger in a bowl containing sweetmeats, pushed aside the green confetti and grinned in triumph to find a sugared piece of apricot.  He licked his fingers and his mother glared at him.  Shrugging, he resumed his seat.  “His introduction to Darcy’s library was fascinating though.  A look of unhidden lust appeared simultaneously with the realization that he would never be invited to come and explore the works.  Of course, I made a point of discussing the vast collection contained at Pemberley.”  He began to eye the bowl again and Audrey picked it up and moved it far from his reach.  The siblings exchanged meaningful glances.

“So you were toying with him?”  Lord Matlock grinned.  “I am sorry to have missed this afternoon.”

“Well you will surely have your fill of them this evening.”

“How was Elizabeth through all of this?”  Audrey asked.  “She had to have been mortified.”

“She clearly wished to speak her mind, and when she forgot I was in the room after the rest of the men left to speak with Mr. Bennet, she did deliver a few words to her mother, but she for the most part left it to Darcy to handle.  I must say that I was very pleased with him.  We were all concerned that he had changed so much since Uncle George died, becoming so lifeless and intolerant, but underneath that he has grown much stronger.  The feelings he has for Elizabeth have changed him for the better, and in time to make a difference before he became too arrogant.”

“Well there is no doubt that their engagement will continue, no matter what her parents do.  Miss Elizabeth will soon be part of this family.  How did her sister fare?”  Lord Matlock asked.

“Not as well, I think.  Harwick’s sister and I had some time to speak on the subject.”

“Did you?”  Layton raised his brows.  “And tell us about that?  Mrs. Carter is very charming as I recall.”

“Mrs. Carter?”  Lady Matlock asked, looking from one flushing son to the other grinning one.  “I do not recall her in town.”

“Mrs. Carter has recently left mourning.  Her husband died three years ago; and of course her sister, Mrs. Harwick, died two years ago.”  Fitzwilliam said quietly.

“Carter, Carter . . . a duel, was it not?  Hyde Park, something about a bet?”

“Yes.  Something.”  Fitzwilliam cleared his throat.  “Mrs. Carter suffered terribly and in silence as the wife of a drunken gambler.”  He glanced up to his sister then fixed his gaze on Singleton.  “Fortunately her settlement was substantial.  Her husband’s family naturally removed her from the home estate, and she went to live with her brother.”

“So her brother has supported her?”  Lady Matlock said and glanced at her husband.

“Yes Mother, her funds remain almost entirely untouched, fortunately her husband did not manage to gamble them all away.  They were married only briefly.  She only recently has stopped wearing mourning.”

“Surely she does not own property, did he leave a house?  Why does she not live . . . oh, to care for Harwick’s children, am I correct?”

“Yes, when her brother marries, she will depart to live at the small townhouse here in London that her husband left, she has its use for her lifetime.”

“How small?”  Layton asked.

“It is large enough to live comfortably.”  Fitzwilliam met his eye.  “She has consented to receive my call, and I intend to do so tomorrow.  I like her.  Please do not scare her away.  She has been through enough.”  Again his eyes rested on Singleton who looked away to meet the sad expression on Audrey’s face.

“Son, if you like this woman and she would have you, I would be overjoyed to see you settled in any home, no matter the size, I would be willing to make a gift to you upon your marriage to help you along.”  Lord Matlock nodded then addressed the gathered family.  “We would all be happy to see you out of that uniform.”

“I would be happy to see a genuine smile on your face, Brother.”  Alicia spoke and all eyes turned to her.  “You cannot hide it from everyone.”