Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (18 page)

BOOK: Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice)
6.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I
am
embarrassing you.”  He sighed and looked at her sadly.  “We did not practice this one.”

“No, but they are all pretty much the same.”  She smiled at him.  “You are doing very well.”  The music ended and they separated, standing across from each other.  “There, you see, we are halfway through.”

“But I do not wish it to end.” 

“Even if you risk ridicule and I risk crushed toes?”

“Even then.”  He smiled when she looked down.  A jig began and he brightened.  “Ah, this I can do!”  He stepped forward and they took hands, swinging each other around.  “See!”

“I do!”  Mary hooked her arm in his and they stepped forward and back.  “This reminds me of dances at home.”

“Country dances.”  He nodded.  “I prefer them myself.”

“Why?” 

“Oh there were always a few musicians on board, a fiddle, a pipe, whatever the men could play.  They would dance to entertain themselves.  The few women aboard would be dizzy giving each man a turn.” 

“And you clearly did not learn from their example.”

“I never danced.”  He smiled and they turned again.  “Sometimes in port we would visit the homes of the wealthy, and they would put on a ball for us.”  Mary’s brows rose.  “Ah, you have not seen those journals.  That was when I was an officer.”  He looked away, and saw Darcy and Elizabeth smiling at them.  Quickly he changed the subject.  “Your brother and sister are amused with us.”

“They are always that way when they are together.”  Mary saw Elizabeth’s encouraging smile and how she turned to laugh when Darcy bent to her ear.  “You see?  Do they not make a lovely couple?”

“Yes they do.”  The song ended and they were separated again, and left staring at each other.  “Miss Mary, I . . .”

“May I have your next, Mary?”  Darcy appeared and asked quietly.  “I would be remiss not to ask my sister to dance, especially tonight.”  He nodded at de Bourgh.  “The other gentlemen of the family will assuredly want their turns as well.”  Seeing a look of relief passing over de Bourgh’s face, Darcy’s lips lifted in a slight smile. 

“Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”  She took his arm. 

De Bourgh stepped out of the way, looking for Elizabeth.  She had taken a seat on the side.  “As your husband has taken your sister, may I offer you my arm?” 

“I thank you, sir, but I must decline, I plead dizziness.” 

Concerned, he sat beside her.  “Dizzy?  What has Darcy given you to drink?”

Elizabeth laughed.  “I see that his reputation for giving me questionable beverages precedes him.” 

“I admit to listening in to a few tales.”  De Bourgh crossed his arms and sat back.  “Are you well?”

“Of course.  Captain, I know that you have no desire to dance with anyone but my sister, and as you see, my dear husband will do his best to make sure that your heart is not battered too much tonight.”  Seeing his questioning eyes she patted his arm.  “The gentlemen of this family will take her dances, so only a few suitors will torture you.”

“I wished for her to experience others, I do not mind, truly . . .”

“Truly?”  She tilted her head.  “Do you
truly
wish to endure watching her with others?”

“No.”  He sighed and watched Darcy gently and diffidently lead Mary through a complicated dance.  “But I will bear it to be sure of her happiness with me.”  He looked back at her.  “Am I a fool?  Will some young man charm her away from me?”

Elizabeth studied him.  “Will you do the same?”

“What?”

“Dance with unattached girls.  Look around you, sir.  You are the subject of much conversation.  Every mother and daughter here knows who you are, and what you have.  You are a target, and you have not been making the rounds of the parties since we arrived in town.”  Elizabeth waved her hand around the room.  “See them?  They watch us carefully.  They know there is no danger from me, so they watch to see how your discourse proceeds.  Are you friendly, do you smile?  Do you flatter or tease?  They read you and plan how to approach.”

“Good Lord, Mrs. Darcy!”  He stared.  “It is a military campaign you describe!”

“Is not the goal of a battle to win a prize?  A piece of land, a city, something?  You are a prize.”  She smiled as he paled.  “Fitzwilliam hated this process.  Hated it with passion.”

“I can only admire once again the good sense of your husband.”  De Bourgh looked around the room, now spotting the women looking his way.  “Why me?”

“Well besides the obvious answer of your being rather nice on the eyes,” Elizabeth laughed at his blush, “Sir, you have an estate already.  Think of the alliances that these families envision.”  She squeezed his arm.  “Here they come.”

A man and woman approached, a young woman by her father’s side.  “What do I do?”  He said under his breath.

“Meet them, be polite, but whether you ask her to dance or not is up to you.  However if you expect Mary to experience others, you should do the same.”  Elizabeth rose to her feet and he stood beside her.  “It is up to you.”

Hearing the music end, he looked over to Mary and Darcy.  She was smiling at her brother and a young man approached the couple, bowing and clearly asking her for a dance.  Darcy appeared to question the man and gave Mary a slight nod.  De Bourgh saw her look back at him.  He tried to smile but only managed a weak grimace.  The young man spoke again and offered his arm.  De Bourgh’s heart dropped when he saw her take it.

“She has no choice, Captain.”  Elizabeth said softly.  “You know that.”

“I know.”  He turned to the couple and bowed.  “Good Evening.”  His gaze moved to the young woman at their side who smiled at him, calculation in her eyes.  “Excuse me.”  He bowed again and walked away to take a position next to Darcy on the side of the dance where he was keeping vigil over Mary. 

Darcy’s eyes flicked over him.  “Change of heart?”

“Quiet Darcy.”  De Bourgh folded his arms across his chest and watched Mary dance gracefully and smile shyly with the bastard who dared to approach her.  “Just keep quiet.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

 

“L
ydia.”  Mr. Bennet glanced at his wife and tried again.  “What are you thinking?”

“I want to talk to Jane.”  She said tearfully.  “Why did she have to go?”

“Because she and her husband deserve to have some time alone, they have really had no opportunity to enjoy their marriage, Lucas Lodge is too busy.  They are probably dancing right now.”  He glanced at the clock.  “The Matlock ball should have begun a few hours ago.” 

“I do so love a ball; at least I think that I would.”  Lydia whispered.  “Kitty is probably there.”

“No, she is in school, just as you will be tomorrow.”

“How can I go back there?”  She picked up the letter from Jessica her father had given her.  “Everyone will know what happened.”

“No, the Simkins family certainly will not advertise her behaviour.  The only way that it will become known is if you betray her.”

“Betray?”  Lydia sat up and stared at him.  “I . . . I never betrayed her!”

“No.  When you showed Jane her letter, it was in answer to her call for help.”

“You went to her.”  Lydia accused him.  “You never did anything like that for me.”

“Thankfully I never had to.  Thankfully you did not follow her.”  He sighed and closed his eyes.  “Lydia, I have spoken to Jane and Mary, and Lizzy.  I wish; your mother and I wish to apologize for not being the parents that you needed.”  Lydia looked up at him and he saw her confusion.  “We failed each of you in different and hurtful ways.”

“Nobody hurt me.”  Lydia looked to Mrs. Bennet.  “You never struck me, or yelled at me.”

“No.”  Mrs. Bennet looked at her husband, who nodded at her encouragingly.  “But I never told you no.”  She waved her handkerchief.  “Oh Mr. Bennet!”

“Go on, Mrs. Bennet.”  He looked at her steadily.

She was silent for a few moments while she collected her thoughts and started her practiced speech.  “I let you carry on unchecked.  You see, you looked so much as I did when I was a girl, and I . . . oh I suppose that I knew that you were my last child, and we were so much alike, and I . . . I thought that you should have all of the things that I did not as a girl.  I told you that you were beautiful, and gave you the prettiest clothes, and let you do and say things that my mother would have never . . .” She sniffed and wiped her eyes.  “I had my beautiful Jane, and she knew her duty to save the family, and then I had my beautiful Lydia, who could . . .” She sniffed. 

“But what of Lizzy?  And Mary?  You hated them.”

“I was angry with Lizzy.  And Mary.”  She looked at Mr. Bennet. 

“Your mother was disappointed that Lizzy was not a boy, and I loved her because as your mother sees herself in you, I saw myself in Lizzy.  Mary, well, by then we were both disappointed that she was not a boy and paid her little mind.”

“Kitty?”

“Another disappointment, but she was to be our last.”  Mrs. Bennet sniffed and glanced at Mr. Bennet who stared at his hands.  “And then . . . well you were a surprise.” 

“Yes.”  He spoke quietly.  “I know that you are confused about why I could travel to London to find a girl who is not my daughter.”  Lydia nodded.  “It is not because I care for a stranger, it is because I love you.”

Lydia sat immobile, staring at him.  “You . . . you love me?  Nobody loves me.”

“That is not true; all of your sisters love you.  And I have not said the words aloud, Daughter, not to you, not to your sisters, not to your mother.  But I do love you and I have been a poor example of that care.  I never took time to see to your education, your discipline; I did not set the rules of this household.  I failed as a father.”

“But . . . you laughed at us.”

“I did.  Your antics were amusing, shame on me for finding them so.” 

“Why did you go to London?”

“So that you would never climb out of a window like Jessica did.”  Seeing her brow crease, he stood up and took a seat next to her.  “Tell me, you now know that I am willing to go and help a girl who has thrown her family and life away.  Does that not make you think that I would come after you?”

“Yes.”  She said slowly.

“Does that not make you think that perhaps you might come to me to ask for help before you were driven to leave?”  Mr. Bennet kissed her forehead and put his arm lightly around her shoulders for a brief hug.  “I never want you to run away.  You are safe here at home.  There is no need to follow some other’s coaxing to think you have found a better place.”

“We . . .we want you here at home.”  Mrs. Bennet said tearfully.  “I miss having my Lydia at home.”

“Must I return to school?”  She asked them both, and Mr. Bennet nodded.  “Oh.”

“Perhaps though you might do as that girl Susan said, show them that you are changed for the better, and they will help you.”  He clasped his hands.  “And then this autumn, if you would prefer to stay here instead of returning, we will find you a teacher or governess.” 

“More schooling.”  She sighed.

“I think that you know already that you are lacking in many areas, perhaps that made you a bit defiant against the other girls at school?  You could not do as they, so you behaved in ways that they would not?”  He tilted his head. 

“I do not know.” 

“Hmm.  Lizzy suggested that to me.” 

“Mama, do you like Lizzy?”  Lydia asked her seriously.  Mrs. Bennet sat and looked down at her twisting handkerchief.  “Mama?”

Mr. Bennet watched his wife struggling, but did not answer for her.  “I have been determined not to like her since the day she was born, Lydia.  And then I would see things of myself in her, and that would make me angry because I wanted to dislike her.  So I was meaner, I suppose, to her than any other daughter.”

“Do you like her now?”

“I am very proud of her position.”  Mrs. Bennet sniffed and wiped her eyes.  “Oh Mr. Bennet!”

“She gave me a chance, perhaps one day you will get one as well.”  He smiled slightly, and reached to pat her hand.  “Now Lydia, I think that is enough for one talk.  If you think of anything that you wish to know more about, we have a nice long trip to school in the morning.  I will be your captive audience, and you may interrogate me.”

“Oh.”  Lydia sat up, then stood.  Awkwardly she bent and kissed his forehead then kissed her mother’s cheek.  “I . . . I think that I will just go to bed.  Good night.” 

“Good night.”  They both said and watched her walk out of the bookroom.  Mr. Bennet blew out his cheeks and Mrs. Bennet dabbed at her eyes.  “What do you think?”  He asked.  “Did she hear us?”

“I do not know.  I could not have done this without your direction.”  Mrs. Bennet sniffed.  “We were terrible parents!”  She saw him nodding.  “What do we do now?  They have all left us!” 

“I suppose that we should try to become people who they want to visit.”  He smiled.  “You really should get to know our granddaughter.  And if I am not mistaken another grandchild is on its way.”

“Jane?”  She gasped.

“Lizzy.”  He smiled when she sighed.  “Yes, my dear, the most difficult one.”

 

“SHALL WE?”  Lucas smiled and offered his hand to Jane.  “I am having a wonderful time.”

 

“We have been separated from everyone.”  She looked around the very crowded room. 

“I know.”  He grinned.  “I am in the midst of seemingly the entire population of London and yet I feel completely alone with you.  It is marvellous!”

Jane laughed when he kissed her hand.  “How can you feel alone in this?”

“Nobody knows us.”  Lucas gestured around.  “Nobody knows us, nobody cares who we are.  We can dance, laugh, and just blend into this spectacle.  Never did I think that I could enjoy the freedom of being anonymous in a crowded room.  A crowded room filled with the crème of London society.”  His smile came back to Jane.  “Are you enjoying yourself?” 

“So much.”   She sighed and watched Darcy and Elizabeth, surrounded by people looking for their attention.  “Oh Robert, thank you for marrying me.”  She looked up to see his smile had softened.  “If I had married a man from this world, I would be performing tonight, instead of enjoying my time with you.” 

Other books

Kaschar's Quarter by David Gowey
The Babe Ruth Deception by David O. Stewart
A Million Nightingales by Susan Straight
From The Wreckage - Complete by Michele G Miller
The Reason Why by Vickie M. Stringer
Bedding the Best Man by Yvette Hines
Blood of the Lamb by Sam Cabot
Love in Straight Sets by Rebecca Crowley