Memory: Volume 1, Lasting Impressions, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (84 page)

“Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, may I wish you joy?”  Harwick bowed.

“Harwick, thank you.”  Darcy smiled, and looked down to Elizabeth.

“I am sorry that you could not come to our wedding, you were missed.”  She smiled to him and he nodded.

“That is exceptionally kind of you, Mrs. Darcy.  May I enquire after your sister?”  He asked quietly.

“She is well, sir.  You have no need to berate yourself.  It was not meant to be.”  Elizabeth tilted her head to see him look down.  “I know that this is terribly forward of me sir, but I hope that you might do me a favour tonight?”

“Anything, Mrs. Darcy.”  Harwick smiled at her. 

“Will you favour me with one dance?”  She smiled.  “You see, my husband is very unhappy sharing me and I would prefer to dance with his friends than with strangers.”

Harwick laughed and smiled at Darcy.  “So the green-eyed monster has entered the room.  I understand.”

“My wife is far too presumptuous; however, I would consider it a great favour.” 

“It is my honour.”  He took Elizabeth’s free hand and bowed.  “And my great pleasure, thank you.” 

Over the next hour, Elizabeth danced with Layton, Harwick, and Singleton.  At last she was with her husband again, and as they hoped, the pattern was slow.  “Fitzwilliam, Mr. Stewart asked me for a dance.”

Darcy asked softly.  “Do you mind dancing with him?”

“No, I do not.  He is your friend, and I would like to think of him as mine, but nothing more.  Do you mind?”

“I will not know until I see him touch you.”  Darcy moved away and looked at the floor.  Elizabeth watched his tall slumped figure and already had her answer. 

“Perhaps Lord Creary will tread on my foot when we dance after supper?”  She whispered when they came together again.

“You would do that for me?  Thank you Elizabeth.”  He sighed.  “I am being ridiculous; of course you should accept his offer to dance.  I am the man who will take you home tonight.”

“And every night.”  She reminded him.  They continued the dance in silence, and when it ended, Darcy escorted her to the supper room where they were kept from eating by the constant attention of the people around them.  Elizabeth discovered how withdrawn her husband became in company, and set about the task of addressing the inquiries with as much patience and grace as she could muster, all while feeling his hand tightly grasping hers under the table.

Eventually Elizabeth left Darcy when some school friends of his came to offer their congratulations and took a seat next to Audrey.  “How is your evening?  I am sorry that I have not had time to speak with you, are you feeling well?”

“I am fine, truly.  Besides, you and Darcy are the centre of all attention, I hardly expected you to be bothering with us.”  She smiled.  “We are doing well.”

“I am glad to hear of it.”  She watched Singleton and saw him look up and to his wife, then smile softly.  “He seems to be sincere, Audrey.”

“I believe that he is.”  She said quietly.  “It is difficult to forget the past, though.”

“But what good does it do you to dwell upon it?  He is putting forth a good faith effort, but it will not continue without your encouragement.”  Elizabeth squeezed her hand.  “Even my Fitzwilliam needs encouragement.”

Audrey turned to her and laughed.  “For what? The man is smitten!”

“He is also terribly shy.”  She whispered and nodded her chin to where Darcy sat alone despite the crowd of men around him, his eyes were down to his plate, and he was only listening to the conversation. “I must return to him.”  She stood up and looked at Singleton watching them.  “Why not do the same?”

Audrey watched Elizabeth walk over to Darcy and resume her seat by his side, and immediately he reanimated.  Audrey then moved to sit near Singleton, and tentatively she took his hand under the table.  The gratitude that shone from his eyes was heartbreaking, and she squeezed as hard as he did.  “Audrey?”

“I have had enough tonight.  Could we go home?” 

Singleton nodded and took a deep breath.  “Yes, anything, yes.”  He rose to his feet and held out his hand.  “Let us go home.” 

Stewart watched them leave and looked away to find his sister watching him.  “Are you well, Daniel?”  Laura asked.

“I am.”  He smiled at her.  “Do not worry about me.  Go and enjoy your time with Mr. Harwick.”

“No, he is not ready for more.”  She watched him sitting alone and looking her way.  She smiled at him warmly and he responded with a small upturn of his lips. “Perhaps next Season.”

“I wish that I had an estate to invite him to visit for you.”  Stewart smiled.  “I could play matchmaker.”

“I think that I need to become serious about finding a match for you.”  She laughed and he shrugged.  “Give me some time, Brother.   I will have you married before long.”

Soon the sounds of the musicians beginning to play were heard again.  “Mrs. Darcy!”  Lord Creary’s voice boomed.  “Our dance has at last arrived!”

“Oh.”  She glanced at Darcy and they both stood.  “I expected us to meet in the ballroom, sir.”

“Nonsense!  This is my home, and you are the bride, and I intend to have you on my arm for as long as possible.”  He laughed at Darcy.  “And there is not one thing you can do about it so instead of fuming at me,” He scanned the room, and raised his brows, “ah, Victoria, come, Darcy needs a partner!”  Elizabeth looked around and saw a young woman about her height and colouring rise and walk over to them.  Darcy closed his eyes for a moment and fixed a tight smile on his face.  Creary laughed.  “There you go!”  He turned and led Elizabeth away from the supper room.  “Now there is an ironic pairing.”  He chuckled to himself.

Elizabeth could not look behind her without being obvious, so concentrated on the formidable man by her side.  “I thank you for our invitation tonight, sir.  We are honoured to be asked.”

“Mrs. Darcy, our guest list was made months ago, and of course a man of such consequence as your husband was invited, in fact, our invitation this year had another purpose.”  They lined up for the dance and Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, who again was staring anywhere but at his partner. 

“What was that purpose, sir?”

“Why, it was not so many weeks ago that Darcy started the tongues wagging when he danced with my niece, Miss Victoria Gannon.  He had not danced at all this Season, or rarely in any case.  I swear; my wife was at her sister’s home the next morning with wedding bells ringing in her head!  Ah what a match that would have made!”  He said nodding thoughtfully; then saw Elizabeth’s wide eyes.  The music began and he took her hand.  “You do resemble her.  When did you meet Darcy?”

Elizabeth shot a look at Miss Gannon and did see the resemblance. “Two years ago, sir.  In Hyde Park.”

“Really?”  Lord Creary moved in time to the music.  “I remember running into Darcy in the park last summer.”

“Do you?”  She said quietly.  “It is a common enough place for people to walk.  Anyone can be found there.”

“Yes, I know.”  He grimaced.  “Be sure that you never walk there without an escort, my dear.  There are people of questionable worth there.”

“Really?”  Elizabeth looked down, then moved to change partners and found her hand encapsulated by a very large warm one. 

“Are you well, dearest?”  Darcy whispered.

She said nothing and the pattern moved her back to Creary.

“So, back to this romance of yours, you met two years ago, that is interesting, why have we never heard of you before you turned up at the Matlock ball? That is when the talk began, you know.  Of course the rumours were fascinating but quashed by Lady Matlock.”  They turned and he glanced at Miss Gannon.  “Victoria was crushed, Darcy actually smiled at her.  She was sure she was the one.”  They stepped away from each other and Elizabeth automatically followed the pattern, but her gaze stayed on her husband.  “Then you were engaged, and the stories of his cousin came up.”  He chortled.  “It has been delicious.  Now the questions lie on the speed of your union.”

“What could be wrong about our wedding date?”  Elizabeth asked, finally returning her attention to him.

 Creary looked at her with a knowing smile.  “It was advanced three weeks, my dear.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.  “Sir, are you aware that Pemberley suffered a fire?”

“No.”  He frowned.  “How devastating was it?”

“Fortunately the damage was limited to the kitchens.  My husband travelled there and remained until he was sure that the repairs were underway, then returned to London with the intention that we marry immediately and go back to Pemberley as soon as possible.”  She glared at him.  “Is that acceptable sir?” 

“Why certainly, I would wish to be on the spot as well.”  He considered her carefully.  “You are angry with me.” 

“I am tired of people who have no connection to me judging my or my husband’s intentions.”  She said unhappily.  “And furthermore, sir, you should not allow outside appearances to influence your opinions of a person.”

“My, you are a feisty little thing.”  Creary’s eyes lit up and raked over her.  “A woman like you will quickly become bored with a dull stick like Darcy.  I was friends with his father; he is cut from the same cloth.”  He leaned down.  “I know you have to give him his heir, but when that task is complete . . .” He winked.  “I would quite enjoy providing you the company you would undoubtedly appreciate, perhaps we would not have to wait so long, eh?”  He squeezed her hand and Elizabeth gasped as the music ended.  Creary escorted her towards Darcy, but before a word could be said Stewart arrived to claim her hand. 

“Sorry old man, it is my turn.”  He grinned and took Elizabeth back out to the line.  “At last, I did not think I would ever get my dance with the bride.” 

“Pardon?”  She whispered and looked back at where Creary was talking to his wife but smiling at her. 

“Are you well, Mrs. Darcy?”  Stewart asked softly.

“I . . . I do not know.”  She looked down and back up to see his concern and smiled a little.  “I . . . of course, I am fine.” 

“I suppose that Creary told you about his niece and their hopes for her and Darcy.”

“You knew this, too?”  Elizabeth met Darcy’s burning gaze then looked away.

“Everyone knew.”  Stewart smiled.  “He actually spoke to her.  It was the talk of the ballroom that night.”  They swayed and turned, and Elizabeth stared down at her feet.  “Mrs. Darcy, you should know that he left almost immediately afterwards, Bingley said something to him and he was gone like a shot.”

“Mr. Bingley?”  She whispered. 

“Then when you were at the Matlock ball, Miss Gannon stood by Darcy’s side for a good quarter-hour and he never acknowledged her.  A bit rude, but of course, he knew that to speak to her would just be fanning the flames.  My sister tells me that Miss Gannon was sorely disappointed that he did not pay a call the morning after the dance.”   They advanced up the line and waited for their turn again.  Stewart saw a war of emotions playing over Elizabeth, and when they came together, he whispered, “He clearly never was really interested in her, he was hoping for you, the resemblance makes that clear.”

“oh.”  She looked back to see Darcy watching and relaxed a little.  “He is so jealous of you dancing with me.”

“Only fair do you not think?  You are jealous of Miss Gannon.”  He smiled.   “Darcy has nothing to fear from me.”

“No.”  Elizabeth finally smiled.  “And I have nothing to fear from her.  Perhaps she is the girl for you?” 

Stewart laughed.  “Perhaps she is; there must have been something to her to attract even the slightest bit of Darcy’s attention.”  The set ended and he escorted her back to his side.  “There you go, Darcy.  Take care of her.”  He bowed and walked away to approach Miss Gannon.

“What happened out there?”  Darcy kissed her hand.  “Lord Creary . . .”

“Is a rude man.”  She said positively.

“He is powerful.”

“He is over-confident.”

“What did he say?”  Darcy shot a look at his host and back to her.  “Elizabeth?”

“It does not matter.”  She whispered.  “May we go home, please?”

“Did he insult you?”  He said in a growl and fixed his steely gaze back on Creary.  “No man insults my wife.”  He let go and began to move.  Elizabeth caught his arm and he stopped, looking back down to her.  “Elizabeth, I will not tolerate discourtesy.”

“I am happy to hear that, Fitzwilliam, but it will serve none of us well to start something now.  We will be leaving London in a few days, please let it drop.” 

“So he did insult you.”  He said angrily.

Fitzwilliam appeared at his elbow.  “Your mask is slipping Cousin; the room will soon be seeing your fury.  What has happened, did Stewart forget himself?”  He chuckled and saw Darcy shoot a look at Elizabeth in inquiry.

“No, he was a wonderful gentleman and told me of Miss Gannon.”  She watched Darcy’s eyes close.

“There is nothing to tell, Elizabeth.”

“Ah, the infamous dance.”  Fitzwilliam smiled.  “I am sorry that I was absent that night.”  Seeing Elizabeth’s glare focussing on him he coughed.  “Ahem, well, if Stewart is not the problem, I would wager it was Creary? And further was he making an offer of . . . questionable morals?”

She closed her eyes and Darcy’s flew back open to study her.  “I will kill him!”  He growled.  Fitzwilliam grabbed his arm. 

“Let it go, he does it to every pretty girl.”

“Every pretty girl is not my wife.”  Darcy said through clenched teeth. 

Elizabeth put her hand on his chest.  “Please Fitzwilliam, take me home.  I wish to go home.”  Darcy stood still, and stared angrily at Creary.  “Please Will?”  She said softly and his eyes shifted back to hers.

“Listen to your wife, Cousin.  Your reserve of good humour is spent for the evening.”  Fitzwilliam let go of his arm and chuckled.  “Nobody should even think of crossing you when it comes to Elizabeth, but a ballroom is not the place for an argument with an arrogant peer.”

Darcy nodded and seemed to let down his stance.  As soon as his movement was unrestricted though, he quickly turned and began striding across the room to Creary’s side.  “I would like a word, sir.”  He said in a low tone, meeting the older man’s eye straight on.