Memory: Volume 1, Lasting Impressions, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (82 page)

“You did very well, Elizabeth.”  Lady Matlock said with an approving nod.  “I saw that every eye was drawn to your clasped hands, but your performance was admirable and elegant.  You were an excellent hostess.  May I ask, who taught you these skills?”

“Because it surely was not my mother?”  Lady Matlock did not attempt to disagree and Elizabeth smiled a little as Darcy hugged her.  “I watched my aunt.”

“I will write her a note of congratulations for her success.”  Lady Matlock smiled.  “Now then, we have the ball in two days.  I expect you to spend the day with me and your cousins tomorrow.  Darcy, you are to leave us alone.”

He laughed.  “I am not permitted to visit and observe?”

“No, and you will leave us alone Wednesday morning as well.  I am sure that you have neglected business to address.  Elizabeth has much to accomplish.  You are not welcome.”

Darcy sighed and smiled at her sadly.  “I am afraid that I must leave you.  Will you be well?”

“Of course, I feel completely safe in the bosom of your family.” 

“Our family.”  He raised her hand to his lips.  “I will miss you.”

“Oh Darcy, it is not a week of travel!  Both of you have your roles to fulfil and they will not always be together.  Most wives would be glad to be rid of their husbands.”  Lady Matlock declared and stood.  “Eleven tomorrow, Elizabeth.  Good and early.”

“Early?” She stopped her laugh when Lady Matlock looked at her sternly.  “Forgive me; I am yet to become accustomed to town hours.”

“I am the same, dearest.  I assure you, Pemberley does not follow them.”  He smiled to see her relief.  “I will not sleep the day away when my people are working.”

“Do you work with them?  Do you pull weeds and plough fields?”  Elizabeth teased.

“I do not.”  His lips twitched.  “However I do have new seed to plant.”

Lady Matlock cleared her throat to gain the attention of the newlyweds before they forgot themselves.  “Good afternoon, children.” 

Elizabeth and Darcy both startled and blushed.  “Thank you Aunt.”  He kissed her cheek.  “It would not have been nearly the success it was without you.”

“You two have a long way to go before you recover from all of the gossip.  You must do well at the ball.”  She looked at them humourlessly.  “Then you may go home and . . .do whatever it is you do with each other.”

Elizabeth studied her feet and Darcy smiled happily.  “We will.” 

At last Lady Matlock relaxed and smiled.  “I can hardly comprehend your joy, it is clearly beyond me, and I consider myself to be happily married.  I hope that my daughters capture a bit of this glow you carry with you, Elizabeth.”

“I do as well.”  Elizabeth looked to Darcy and let go of his hand.  “May I see you out?”

“Of course.”  Lady Matlock waited and followed her to the door.  When they arrived, she took Elizabeth’s hand and smiled.  “You did very well, if you can hold up to such an inquisition at this age, I can only imagine what will happen when you and Darcy have been married a few years.”

“As long as he is pleased . . .”

“Dear, I cannot imagine him being otherwise.”

5 JULY 1809

I am sitting across from the loveliest, most delightful woman.  She is writing studiously in her journal and shooting curious smiles at me. I am endeavouring to keep her guessing my thoughts, however, how she can wonder at them is a mystery.  My sweet wife’s cheeks still carry the blush of our lovemaking.  I am delighted to have so successfully affected her. 

She is gaining a little more confidence, she ranges from bold to painfully shy.  It surprises me that at times she can tease me mercilessly, and leave me in such a state that I dare not reveal myself to a servant much less step from the house!  But then I might simply touch the back of her neck with my lips, and she nearly melts into my arms.  I could write of her forever, and I imagine that the pages of my journal will always be filled with the joy of her.  I have never been so happy.

Tonight is the Creary Ball.  We will meet our equals, be introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and face the society that likely gossiped eagerly about us over the past months.  Some are friends, but most are simply the society we are forced to know.  I felt so terrible for Elizabeth, following in Aunt Helen’s formidable wake as they paid calls.  I am grateful for Aunt’s attention; it is in no small part due to her condescension that Elizabeth is being received as well as she is.  Alicia has agreed to accompany Elizabeth the rest of the week to make calls following the ball.  Audrey will surely come as well.  I am very grateful for my family’s acceptance.
 

“Elizabeth!”  Darcy cried when a small wad of paper plopped into his inkpot and splashed onto his journal.

She covered her mouth and giggled.  “Oh, I am so sorry Fitzwilliam!  I missed!”

“Missed?”  He checked his cuff to see if it was stained.  “A perfect strike, I would say.”

“I was aiming for your nose.”  She laughed to see his surprise.  “How I missed amazes me, it is an impressive target!”

“Elizabeth!”  She laughed harder and he set down his pen to come around to her chair.  “I demand recompense for your insult!”

“I love your nose!”  She squealed as his arms closed around her and he began tickling.  Elizabeth fought him.  “Please, stop!”  She gasped.

He relented and growled.  “You will not insult my handsome features again?” 

“Not in front of you.”  The tickling resumed.  “Will!”

He stopped.  “Will?”

“Sometimes I call you Will.”

“When?”

“When you are behaving like a little boy.”  She laughed.

“Very well, little Lizzy.  I will keep that in mind.”  He kissed her, then when she was looking up at him, reached over and snatched up her journal.  “Now, what have we here?”

“Fitzwilliam!  NO!”  She stood and tried to grab it out of his hands, but being far too tall he merely smiled and held it over her head to read.  “I will read yours!”

“Go ahead.”  He offered and watched as she was torn between the two books.  Chuckling, he turned back to see what she had written.

5 July 1809

Today is our fifteenth day of marriage.  I am so happy; I have never known how good it feels to be completely loved.  I hate our time apart, although I certainly understand his need to care for business before we depart, and my need to establish my place in society, I am selfish and want all of my time to be with him.  Our reunions can only be described as joyous.  I cannot wait to go to Pemberley, be away from the rules and constraints of society and simply love him.  He needs to be loved, he clings to me so.  I have so many ideas of ways to please him, I am afraid that in the space of fifteen days I have become quite wanton in my thoughts.  I find myself sitting in a room full of women, Lady Matlock’s approved smile fixed upon my lips, and my mind is in our bedchamber.  I imagine that I am looking at my unclothed husband, and drawing my hand down over his glorious body.  His skin is so taut and smooth; I become quite undone simply with the sight of him, but the privilege to touch and kiss such beauty is one I will never take for granted.  I am overwhelmed that he continues to call me lovely.  I am grateful for his wilful blindness.  I love him so.

“Elizabeth.”  Darcy lowered her journal to see her smiling over his.  “I please you?”

“Completely.” 

Darcy stood looking at her with a silly happy smile gracing his lips and Elizabeth became flustered and shy.  She looked around his desk and spotted Bingley’s miserable excuse for a letter.  “Did you confirm our attendance at Mr. Bingley’s dinner for tomorrow?”

He blinked and focussed.  “No, I do not believe that I did.”  He picked her up from his chair, dropped her into her own, and resumed his throne with a grin.  “I will do that now.”

“He would probably appreciate that.”  She said wryly.  “I should go upstairs and begin preparing for tonight.”

“Must you?  I have some ideas to add to your imagination.”  He ducked when another little wad of paper was aimed at him.  “We will have to practice your aim.”

“Does it snow in Derbyshire?”

He chuckled.  “Yes, my love, it does.”  She raised her brows and nodded, then left the room with a swirl of her skirts.  Darcy stared at the empty doorway happily, imagining kissing snowflakes from her reddened cheeks, then with a sigh, began a note to Bingley.

“LOUISA.”  BINGLEY CALLED.  “You will need to set two more places for dinner tomorrow.  The Darcys have confirmed.”

“Well that is a bit late, although, I imagine that they have been preoccupied.”  She smiled and caught the twinkle in her brother’s eye.

“I can well imagine.” Bingley said as he read the note and chuckled.   “Even in this he gives advice, asking if I have seen a settlement document yet.  I admit that it had not crossed my mind until Hurst mentioned it when they became engaged.”

“Charles!”  Louisa gasped. 

“Well what do I know of these things?  He must be doing well; he dresses as a gentlemen and attends university.  He said he would bring it by today, and that it contains everything that we need to know.”

 “What else do we know of him?  Caroline will not hear of me questioning anything of her
dear Mr. Wickham
.”  Louisa said quietly.  “I know that he is the most charming man of my acquaintance, but Charles, he mentions no family.”

“I understand that they are deceased.”  He mused, looking over Darcy’s neatly penned letter.

“Then why does he not own his father’s home?”

“He never mentioned one.  He grew up on Pemberley in his father’s house, perhaps they leased it.  His father may have been one of the more prosperous tenants; there are some very wealthy ones at Pemberley.  However, I believe his fortune is mainly derived from a bequest by Darcy’s father.”  Bingley’s eyes lit up.  “I never told Darcy Wickham’s first name, I am sure that he does not realize this is the man he knows so well or he would have mentioned it in his note!  Let us leave this as a surprise on all sides, Louisa.  Do not tell Caroline that the Darcys will attend.”

“Charles!”

“It will be a reunion!”

“Caroline is hardly feeling charitable towards Mr. Darcy for rejecting her, not that he ever so much as danced with her.  Such a delusion she had over him!  Oh the invectives I heard from her mouth when she learned he had married Miss Elizabeth!  You would think that she had been jilted herself!”  Louisa shook her head, “And yet nearly in the same breath she speaks of him highly.”

Bingley listened and became serious.  “Maybe that is part of our blindness over Mr. Wickham’s prospects, we are grateful that anyone would take her.  Why is it that he is her only offer, Louisa?  I do not understand.  I read letters from lovelorn gentlemen seeking wives in the paper daily, and they seem quite ready to accept a lady with funds as long as she does not resemble the backside of a mare.”

“Charles!” 

He shrugged.  “Go ahead and deny it.  I have heard you and Caroline cackling over them.”

“Our sister is rather mercenary, but I suppose that should not be a surprise, she was much influenced by our parent’s desire to rise far above our roots, more so than I, and even you I suspect.”  The siblings shared a knowing glance.  No man of our circle would meet her desires, no man below is good enough, and she has no opportunity to meet any above.  Until Mr. Wickham, who is charming, wealthy, and has a connection to Mr. Darcy.”

“I suppose my friendship was not enough for her.”  Bingley sighed.  “I would not promote her to him, and he is happier for it.”

“She will not speak of her plans to me, I only know that she is obsessed with the life she envisions having with her infallible Mr. Wickham.”

“I suppose that is an admirable way for a wife to view her husband?”  Bingley’s lips rose in a grin.  “Just as you view Hurst?”  Louisa rolled her eyes and he laughed.  “He will likely return to himself when Caroline is gone, Louisa.”

“You have not heard of him discouraging the match, have you?”  Louisa smiled and departed the room.  Bingley carried Darcy’s note over to his desk and furrowed his brow over the perfect penmanship.  “How do you do that, man?”

“HOW COULD I POSSIBLY have mistaken him for you?”  Elizabeth whispered as she looked out upon the ballroom at the Creary’s home.  Darcy was standing by her side, his hand laying over hers on his arm.  Their fingers were entwined and his thumb was brushing her wrist slowly.  Looking down to her, he realized that she was not actually speaking to him.  “He has your height, and perhaps his shoulders are as broad, but . . .”

“Elizabeth.”  He said quietly and she startled.  “What are you doing?”

“Oh.”  She blushed.  “I suppose that I am not listening to my own advice.” 

“We are here now, we are married.”  He leaned to whisper in her ear, “And if I am not mistaken, Lord Creary was very taken with your looks.”

“Old goat.”  Elizabeth laughed. 

“Elizabeth!”  His grip tightened, but he was smiling.  “So I am in no danger of losing you to him?  I need not call him out?”

“The host of the
The
ball of the Season?”  She giggled as his eyes rolled.  “Why is this ball so important?”

“Because, my love, we are here.”  He winked and felt her lean against him.  “I just know that everybody who is anybody has been invited.  Personally, I look forward to leaving.”

“I enjoy dancing, but I would rather not be critiqued for it.”  She watched the people milling about.  “Fitzwilliam, look, do you see Mr. Harwick?”

Darcy lifted his chin and tilted his head.  “Ah.”

“What is it?”

“He is smiling, it is good to see.” 

“With Miss Stewart.”  Elizabeth whispered.  “I thought that they would do well together.”

“What do you mean?”  Darcy startled.  “When did you think this?”

“It was perfectly obvious that they were drawn to each other at the theatre.  Did you not see it?” 

“I did, but I thought that it was better not to mention, considering the circumstances.”

She sighed.  “I know.  I had so much hope for Jane, but seeing Mr. Harwick here, I know that Jane is better off without him.  No more secure, but, oh I do not know.  I want her to be as happy as I am someday, and as dear as Mr. Harwick likely was with his wife, I do not think that Jane would have inspired the smile he is wearing now for Miss Stewart.”  Darcy was looking at her with a little smile on his lips.  “What are you thinking?”