Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (101 page)

“Pretty.”  She said critically. 

“Good, now I think that you need a tree, too.  You just have roses; I think something more permanent is necessary.”

“And what will she have?”  Elizabeth wiped her eyes and hugged the baby.

“Oh, an elm like Mama.”  He kissed her then walked to another sapling and again he and Rosalie worked to plant the tree.  Elizabeth watched them labour together, swaying with the baby in her arms and smiling when Darcy took a little of the dirt from the planting and smeared it on Rosalie’s nose, and laughed when she decorated her papa’s usually impeccable face.  “We need to wash, little girl.”  He said sternly.  Taking her by the hand, he led her over to a stream and knelt down with her, helping to wash off her hands then dampening his handkerchief, he wiped her nose. 

“Papa clean.”  Rosalie wiped him and he laughed.

“Thank you, Rosa.”  He finished the job and turned to Elizabeth.  “Are we handsome?”

“Just lovely, I could not resist either of you.”

“I am glad to hear that.”  He stood straight.  “You, my love, look tired.”

“I am fine . . .”

“No, you need to sit down.  That enormous child is too heavy for you.”

“Well, there are plenty of trees; I suppose that we could find a dry spot . . .”  Elizabeth looked around and Darcy firmly took hold of her shoulders and turned her towards her tree and Rosalie’s rose bush.  Elizabeth raised her hand to her mouth.  “Ohhhh.”

“Surprise!”  Rosalie danced in front of them and ran forward to tug on Elizabeth’s dress.  “Look Mama!!”

“Come.”  He smiled and took her hand, leading her over to an exact replica of their bench in Hyde Park, and helped her to sit down.  Tilting his head, he peeked under the brim of her hat.  “Lizzy?”  He asked softly.  “Love, are you crying?”  She nodded and he put his arm around her and helped to support the baby.  Rosalie climbed up to sit next to her and hugged her waist.  “Dearest?”

Elizabeth lifted her head and looked around the glade.  There was a gentle breeze blowing, the new leaves emerging from the trees gave a gentle wash of green to the setting.  New life was all around them, the baby in her arms . . . Rosalie ran off and started gathering a bouquet of wildflowers.  Elizabeth was safe in the embrace of her husband’s ancestors, and surrounded by memories of her own life.  Her daughter loved her and knew that she was loved in return, the boy in her arms would know the same, and there by her side, as strong as the trees, was Fitzwilliam. 

“That first day that I saw you, when you were sitting on the bench and watching me, I wrote in my journal.”

“What did you write?  I have not seen it.”  He smiled and brushed her cheek with his fingers.  “Tell me, love.”

She shook her head and sitting up, kissed the nose that was so close to her lips.  Darcy chuckled and smiled at her.  “Tell me your secret, what struck you that day; what did you want to remember?”

Elizabeth laughed and caressed his dear face.  “I wrote,
I should like to make him laugh, maybe someday I will.  I will never forget his smile.  It was all for me
.”

“Elizabeth . . .”  He sighed and leaned to kiss her.

She smiled and melted into his arms.  “Now it is all for us.”

Epilogue

“a
hem.”  The small voice somehow cut through the sound of the servants rushing around Darcy House, preparing for Georgiana’s coming out ball.  Darcy stood alone, dressed and wholly unprepared for this completely unwanted event; staring out at Hyde Park from their sitting room window, wishing Elizabeth would hurry and finish dressing, and come to rescue him from his thoughts.  “ahem.”  He heard again and turned; nearly choking as he tried hard not to burst into laughter.  Regarding the serious, almost regal posture of his guest, he bit back his smile and turned to bow formerly. 

“Yes, miss?  May I help you?”

Rosalie sniffed and adjusted Elizabeth’s silver shawl around her shoulders, pulled up the pink silk gloves that hung from her hands, touched the three ostrich feathers that hung haphazardly from her upswept hair and stuck her chin out as she attempted to curtsey.  “I am here to dance.” 

Darcy coughed.  “Oh.”  He heard Elizabeth’s laugh in the background and knew that undoubtedly she lurked around the corner.  “Well then, miss . . . you have certainly come to the correct address, however, I do not know your name.  It would be improper to dance without a formal introduction.”

“I am Princess Cinderella of Pemberley.”  She said importantly.

“Princess?”  His eyebrows rose.  “Is that so?”

“Well . . .I  . . . I was kissed by a handsome prince, you see and . . .”  Her brow creased.  She looked back and received instructions.   “And I lost him.”

“And how did that happen?”  Darcy asked seriously.

“He turned into a frog.”  Rosalie sighed.  “It is most vexing.” 

“I can imagine.  So what is a princess all dressed for a ball to do without her prince?” 

“Will you dance with me, Papa?”  She looked up at him hopefully.

“Papa?  I do not have a daughter who is a princess.  I do not know where my little Rosa is.”  He said sadly and pointed to a sketch of her that hung on the wall.  “See?  This is she.”

“That is me!”

“No, this is Rosalie Darcy.  She is no princess, she is my little love.”

“That is me!  Papa, I am Rosalie!”

Darcy shook his head forlornly.  “Have you seen her?  I will have to go looking . . .”

“Papa!”   Rosalie threw off her shawl and took out her feathers.  “See?”  She looked at him anxiously and ran up to tug at his breeches.

“Rosa!”  He cried and picked her up.  “There you are!” 

She beamed.  “Oh Papa!  You were fooled!”

“I certainly was!  Why would you try to fool your papa like that?”  He kissed her and smiled.  “Were you and Mama playing?  I thought that you looked like her.”

“She decorated me.”  Rosalie giggled.  “It was fun.”

“I am sure that it was.”  He hugged her tightly and swayed.  “Just do not grow up too fast, dear.  Please.”  Elizabeth entered the room, resplendent in a gown of silver.  Around her neck were amethysts and pearls and her hair was swept up, just like Rosalie’s, with more pearls scattered throughout.  “Oh Lizzy.”  Darcy stared. 

Picking up the discarded shawl, she walked forward and kissed him softly.  Her eyes sparkled as his darkened.  “What do you think?”

“I think that if that gown were cut any lower, I would need to hide you upstairs for the evening.  And I sincerely doubt that I would leave your side.  You take my breath away, dearest.”

She blushed and he watched as the colour travelled up her chest to her cheeks.  He looked at Rosalie in his arms and sighed, shaking his head resignedly.  Elizabeth smiled, realizing his condition and helplessness to do anything about it.  Their eyes met and Darcy took her hand and squeezed tight.  “I am glad that this ball is now instead of another month away, or I would have needed to have something new made.”

“Why?”  Rosalie interrupted the conversation.

“Oh.”  Darcy saw Elizabeth’s head shake when she glanced down to her belly.  “Fashions change quickly, dear.”

“Oh.” 

“Mama.”  Elizabeth turned to find Asher tugging at her skirt and raising his arms. 

“What are you doing here?  I thought that you went to sleep.”  She bent and lifted him.  Darcy grimaced along with her and reached his free hand to help.  Elizabeth smiled at them both.  “Did you escape Mrs. Robbins?”

“I am sorry Mrs. Darcy, he would not lie down.  He wanted you, all the excitement in the house, I suppose.”  She sighed.  “He is a stubborn soul.” 

“Is that so, Mr. Darcy?  And where did you learn such a thing?”   Silent as ever, Asher rested his head on Elizabeth’s shoulder and closed his eyes.  The musicians started playing and Rosalie clapped.  “May I have this dance, sir?”  Elizabeth whispered.

“Mama.”  Asher yawned and cuddled closer.

“I think that he has the correct idea.”  Darcy whispered and kissed his head.  “May I join you, Son?”  The two parents turned with their charges.  Asher smiled sleepily and kissed his mother.  Rosalie beamed and laughed as Darcy moved through the steps of a minuet.  “When our dance is over you must go to bed, Miss Rosa.”

“Yes, sir.”  She whispered.

The song ended and Elizabeth handed the sleeping boy to his nanny and kissed Rosalie.  “Time to sleep.”

“Yes, Mama.”  She slid down Darcy to hold his leg.

Darcy knelt and gave her a hug, then patting her bottom, watched her run off after Mrs. Robbins.  He sighed and stood.  “Well. I suppose that we need to face the inevitable.” 

“Go to Georgiana.”  She picked up a box and handed it to him.  Darcy opened it and closed his eyes.  Elizabeth stood on her toes and kissed him, and Darcy set the box down, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to him.  They swayed together, exchanging slow open kisses. 

“Lizzy . . .”  Darcy’s hands ran down her back and he lifted her up and against him.  His lips travelled to her throat and he suckled gently below her ear, “Dearest . . .”

“I want to, Will, we just do not have time.”  She caressed his face, kissing his lips and his cheek, and slowly drawing away to finally look up to his passionate eyes.  “When they all leave . . .”

“When will that be?”

Elizabeth laughed.  “Not soon enough for your taste.”  They kissed again and she rubbed his bottom, winning from him a small smile.  Handing the box over and holding hands, they walked down the hallway to Georgiana’s door. 

Darcy watched his wife continue to the stairs, waving at him and blowing a kiss as she smiled and disappeared. Resignedly, he knocked and hearing the call, entered. “You are stunning.”  He said unhappily to his sister.

Nervous as she was, she could not help but laugh.  “Thank you, I think.” 

“Forgive me.”  Darcy walked forward and took her hands.  “This week has been absolutely miserable for me.  I cannot accept my little sister growing up.”  He stood back and looked her over.  “You are not a little girl anymore.”

“I do not feel like a woman.”  She looked down at the beautiful new gown and smoothed the fabric self-consciously, and with a little sob, fell into his instantly open arms.  “Oh Brother, I am so frightened!  What if none of the men like me, and worse, what if they do?  I . . . I am so afraid to be courted, and I do not want to marry yet!”

“Shhhh shhh.”  Darcy closed his eyes, thinking quickly as he hugged her tightly and wishing Elizabeth had stayed.  “I have no intention of marrying you off to the first young man who smiles your way.  There is no hurry dear, none at all.  You can marry in six months or six years, or never.  I do not care.  All that I do care about is that if you do, it must be to a man you can love with all of your heart.”

“Thank you.”  She sniffed and relaxed a little.  “Elizabeth said the same thing.  She said that my presentation was just a formality, just as hers was, and my acceptance at Almack’s was just something that I had to do as a Darcy.  I wish that I could be like Lydia and just turn eighteen without all this pomp.  Elizabeth promised that I would never be forced to attend parties or balls . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“But you needed to hear it from me?”  He smiled and wiped her tears.  “Surely you trust her?”

“Of course I do, but you are . . .” looking down she studied her gloves, “ . . . more than my brother.”

“I know.”  He reached into his pocket to draw out the box.  “But this is from your true father.”  Georgiana gasped.  “Remember, he made several purchases for you before he died, and this one you were to receive at this precise moment.”

“I . . . I thought that you had forgotten when you did not give it to me for my presentation.” 

He shook his head and smiled.  “I am sorry for that, dear.  No, you wore the butterfly for your presentation because I wanted Mother to be with you somehow.”  Georgiana sighed.  “You understand?”

“I feel so foolish.”

“You should know that you could have asked, if not me, then certainly Elizabeth.”

“I did not want to seem pushy.”  Georgiana looked up at him and smiled at his rolling eyes.  “I know, hush.”

“Indeed.”  Handing her the box, he reached up to unclasp the old necklace and lay it on her dressing table.  “Go on, open it.”  Carefully, she lifted the lid and drew in her breath.  “Aquamarine.”  He explained.  “Father said that they are the colour of your eyes, of Mother’s eyes.”  He lifted out the choker of blue stones interspersed with diamonds and walking behind her, clasped it around her neck and kissed her cheek.  “There.  Lovely.  I have a letter for you to read from him, too.  I think that you should save it for tomorrow, though.”  He smiled.  “It would not do for you to appear at your ball with reddened eyes, would it?”  She smiled a little and touched the jewels.  “Shall we join Elizabeth at the door and greet your guests?  Are you sure that you do not want to make a grand entrance?”

“Please, no.  I do not want everyone looking at me.”  She looked up when he chuckled.  “That was silly.”

“I am afraid it was.  Just remember, most will be looking at you and thinking of your dowry.  The secret is to look at the ones with genuine smiles.”  She groaned.  “And you have a houseful of sisters and cousins looking out for you.” 

They descended the stairs to find that the family had begun to arrive.  Fitzwilliam immediately kissed Georgiana’s cheek and turned to Darcy, handing him a glass with a wink.  “Buck up, Cousin.” 

“What is this?”

“Do you honestly care?” 

Darcy shot him a look and then gulping the burning liquid down, gasped.  “Good Lord.” 

“I did not suggest inhaling it!”  Laughing, he set the empty glass on a passing tray and slapped his back.  “Breathe!” 

DARCY LAUGHED SOFTLY, thinking over his cousin’s determination to cheer him, “You have never failed me, Richard.  Never with the women in my life.”   With a smile on his lips, he turned to his journal.

18 April 1814

Last night Georgiana faced her coming out ball, and of course, she came through it with the grace and at least the outward show of confidence that I have come to expect of my sister.  Father would have been so proud of her.  I have gone back to read his journals, talking of Mother when she was young and through his words, I am filled with joy to attest that my sister has grown to resemble her.  The credit for this feat I give to Elizabeth.  She would disagree; citing her schooling, our family, Mrs. Annesley, and Georgiana herself, but the truth is that for the past two years, she has received a daily education from her that no master, no visiting relative, and no servant could provide.