Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (29 page)

“I . . . I assumed as much.”  Darcy sighed, and taking a swallow, coughed.  “Thank you for coming.”

“I just thought, well the ladies have each other, and . . . Well, you see, we did not tell anyone of our losses.  It was a mistake, but you know how the women are always to blame when something happens with a pregnancy, and . . . I am so protective of Audrey that I just . . . I suppose that I was denying that the children were lost.  Some failing on my part I supposed.”  He sat up anxiously.  “It is not your fault.”

“Nor Elizabeth’s.”  Darcy said seriously.  “It was out of our hands.”

A long slow breath escaped Singleton and he shook his head.  “You look like the very devil, Darcy, but your words hearten me.  Do you know how long it took me to reach that conclusion?  I looked for blame everywhere.”

“Audrey was further along than Elizabeth.  I suppose that time and anticipation would make it all the harder.”

“Yes.  But, well I suspect that you and Elizabeth have actually been talking to each other about everything.”

“Of course.”  Darcy’s face reflected his surprise.  “We talked all night, we could not stop talking, everything that we had kept tucked away, our private fears, just came spilling out.  It was . . . It was cathartic.  Elizabeth described it as comparable to giving birth, the pain of the process and the relief when it was over.  All that was missing was the happy result in our arms.”  He looked down at his empty hands and worked to control his emotions.  Singleton studied his glass until Darcy drew a breath and let it go.  “I suppose that the happy result is that we know we can face anything together, this was the first tragedy within our marriage, and we . . . We will become stronger from this.”

“It seems to me that you already are formidable, and have faced plenty.”

“Perhaps.”  Darcy’s lips twitched up slightly.  “But to be able to move on, we must find some good from it.”

“Have you found that yet?”  Singleton leaned towards him.  “Please tell me.  Audrey and I did not talk at all, we talked around it both times.  It was a grave error.”

“I think that we have learned to voice our fears sooner, so we can prepare together should the worst come along.”  He saw Singleton nod and glanced at his father’s journals. 

Singleton tilted his head.  “Audrey is four months along, now.”

“Is she?”  Darcy smiled a genuine smile.  “Congratulations!”

“We were not telling anyone, except her parents, but it will be difficult to hide anymore. She feels very good.”  He smiled and then frowned.  “I can suppose jealousy on your part . . .”

“No.”  He assured him.  “Not a bit of it.  Just joy.  Elizabeth has told me that she wishes to try again as soon as possible.”

“Really?”  Singleton smiled and sat forward.  “That is amazing!  Audrey, she could not think of it for so long after the first, and then to have it happen again . . . Well, I must say that I am grateful for the wassail bowl!”

“Oh?”  Darcy laughed softly.  “Do tell.”

“I got my fair wife drunk at Christmas and took full advantage of her.  I am not proud, well on second thought, I am.  She was drunk, we were both finally relaxed, and . . .” He shrugged and grinned.  “Nature proved kind.”

“I will remember that.”  Darcy rubbed a thumb over his tired eyes.  “I enjoy plying my sweet wife with unusual drinks.  I like raising her ire after she takes a taste and anticipate the tongue lashing that inevitably ensues.”

“I have heard of that.”  Singleton chuckled.  “Fitzwilliam finds it amusing.”

“As do I.”  Darcy’s smile faded a little.  “So you come here to bring me hope.”

“I guess.”  He looked at him and studied his face.  “Grace saved us.”

“How appropriate.”  Darcy smiled.  “I think that Rosa will save us as well.”  He thought of his father saying the same of him long ago, and took a drink, then tilted his head.  “I wondered; when you chose Grace’s name, what was the reason?”

“Ahhh, well, it was in honour of my Audrey’s willingness to still love me, despite it all, and forgiving me, and giving me our daughter.” 

“I thought so.”  Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the back of his chair.  “All right Singleton, talk me through this.  Tell me everything that I need to know.” 

“OH YOU WILL BE A MESS for a few weeks.”  Audrey handed Elizabeth another handkerchief. 

“All I did before is cry, why not now?”  She sighed and wiped her eyes.  “Thank you so much for coming over.  My aunt told me quite a lot about her experience.  But to hear it from you just tells me how common this is.”

“Yes, Jane said that you were with Mrs. Gardiner.  Robert really wanted to come and talk to Fitzwilliam.  He did not want him to experience what we did.  I should have known that you two would have spent the night in discussion, and would not need us.”

“Audrey, please do not say that.  Hearing from someone with experience helps us to put things into perspective.  I know that Fitzwilliam will be appreciative of Robert’s willingness to come.  He has become such a good man.” 

“It was always in him, I knew that.”  Audrey smiled and gasped.  Elizabeth put her hand on her belly and felt the kicking baby.  “You do not mind?”

“No.”  Elizabeth closed her eyes and imagined their baby, “No.”  Audrey’s arms wrapped around her and the women hugged and rocked while they both cried.  Finally, Elizabeth lifted her head and pushed away.  “Enough.”  She said determinedly.  “I am fine, I will be fine.  We WILL have another child.  And this one . . .was not meant to be.”  She looked Audrey in the eye.  “Talk.”

“What about?”  Audrey startled. 

“How should I know?  Gossip, sleeve lengths . . .”

“Oh Elizabeth, you are the last woman in London who gives two hoots about sleeve lengths!”  She laughed.  “Or gossip!”

“I do have a wedding breakfast to plan.” 

“Ah, now that is distracting!”  Audrey rose up from the bed and looked around.  “Paper?”

“In the sitting room, there is a writing desk.” 

“Excellent!”   Audrey disappeared and was gone for some time.  When she returned she was subdued.  “I hope that you will forgive me, but . . . Have you read the letter that was lying open on the desk?”

“From Fitzwilliam?”  Elizabeth smiled.  “Yes, he is very expressive.”

“My goodness Elizabeth, he wrote in five lines words of love that I doubt a poet could invent in an entire sonnet!”   She fanned herself and blushed.  “I know that you will wish to throttle me, but why did my parents not . . .”

“Because you were meant for Robert and Fitzwilliam was meant for me.”  She glared at Audrey and grabbing the paper from her, picked up the pen.  “If you are attempting to distract me, I assure you it is working.”

“I thought it might.”  Audrey smiled and opened the ink jar.  “Now . . . What shall we have?”

“We should be doing this with Mary.”  Elizabeth murmured as her pen quickly started scratching out ideas.  Looking over her shoulder, Audrey laughed, and Elizabeth looked up at her.  “Too much?”

“An armed servant to keep your mother locked in her chambers for the duration of the visit?” 

“Too much.”  Sadly, Elizabeth crossed it out.  “I truly do not want her here.  Fitzwilliam told me of the visit to Longbourn yesterday, mother was mortifying.  It is just that I have managed to renew my relationship with my father.  I cannot have him stay here and her at my aunt’s can I?”  She looked up hopefully.

“No.”  Audrey smiled.  “Grin and bear it.”

“And keep the spirits handy.”  Elizabeth muttered.

“Fitzwilliam is good at that, I understand.”  The two ladies looked at each other and smiled.  “Could you send her shopping?”

“I certainly could.”  With a flourish, she made note of the idea, then paused.  “Should I be sitting in a dark room?”

“I did, for the longest time.”  Audrey said thoughtfully.  “Especially the first time, it was such a terrible experience and I was ill afterwards.  But then just as I shook myself free, it happened again.  But you know what I finally realized?  I was doing absolutely nobody any good by not moving on.  I had a beautiful, joyful little girl who brought sunshine into my life and despite his inability to write a decent love letter, an anxious, dear, loving husband who desperately needed me to love him.  Living again did not mean that I loved my lost children any less.”

“I feel the same way.”  Elizabeth put her pen down.  “I wonder at the rules for mourning, sometimes.  Months, years spent in black . . .”

“For the women.”  Audrey noted.  “I have wondered if it is just a conspiracy by the manufacturers of bombazine and jet.”

“Ah, that is it!  Why is it that men only have to wear an armband?”

“Because it is the men who make up the rules.” 

“Hmm, there is something in this theory of yours.”  The two women looked at each other and held hands.  “Thank you so much for coming here, today.”

“How do you feel?  Well enough to go reassure Fitzwilliam?  You know that he takes all of his cues from you.”

“As I do from him.”  Sitting up, she swung her feet off of the bed and they walked to the dressing room, and looked through the gowns.  Audrey helped her to put on the simple pink morning dress that Elizabeth knew Darcy loved to see her wear, and stood behind her at the dressing table, brushing out her hair, then drawing it up to pile loosely on her head. 

“I always wanted a sister to play with.”  Audrey laughed.  “A living doll.”

“Well you can play with Grace’s hair when it grows a little longer.” Elizabeth looked at her in the mirror and hugged the arms that came around her.  “Thank you so much, Audrey.” 

DARCY HEARD the unmistakable sound of Elizabeth’s laughter and sat up in his chair.  He exchanged glances with Singleton and rose to his feet.  The ladies entered the study and cautiously, he stepped forward and took her hands.  “Dearest?”

“I thought that you might like to take a walk to our bench.”  Elizabeth smiled.

“Are you certain?  Do you feel well enough?  Perhaps we should just sit in the garden?”

“Walk, we need to walk.”  She reached up to caress the hair from his eyes.  They were both haggard, but the smile in her eyes was genuine.  “We cannot conquer this separately, or by hiding.”

“No, we cannot.”  Darcy’s arms came around her and they embraced, closing their eyes and sinking into each other. 

Audrey waved at Singleton and they slipped out of the room, and quietly left the house to board their waiting carriage.  “What happened?”  Singleton asked, looking back at the doorway.

“It took me months to work through all that she has addressed so sensibly and so soon.”  Audrey smiled.  “All she needed was to have someone tell her it was perfectly fine to live, even as she mourns the loss.”

Singleton took her hand and kissed it.  “I think that they will be fine.”

Darcy finally opened his eyes, and realized they were alone.  “Love?”

“Yes, Will?”  Darcy kissed the top of her head and her face emerged from his chest.  He said nothing, just searched her eyes and stroked her hair.  She reached up to touch his cheek; and his gaze finally moved to her lips.  “Please kiss me.”  Gladly, he drew her close.

Mrs. Mercer stopped in the doorway to knock and seeing their position, she stood still, her hand still raised.  Foster appeared behind her she heard his soft sigh of relief.  Turning, she smiled at him and moved away, while he reached forward and quietly closed the door. 

8 MAY 1811

Nine days have passed since our loss and I am free from the physical reminders of this journey.  My tears have abated, I no longer ache, and my body seems to be healed.  This morning Fitzwilliam nearly cheered when he saw me polish off an enormous plate of food. I could not help it, suddenly I felt so incredibly hungry.  When the last crumb was swallowed, he was out of his chair and hugging me while simultaneously reaching for another bun from the sideboard to press to my lips.  I believe that he was only half-joking in his earnest administrations.  His happiness in seeing my restoration brought me nearly to tears I was laughing so hard, while the rest of our family enjoyed some much needed levity.  It seemed that Jane, Robert, Mary and our ever-present Peter were relieved to see us being ourselves once again.  I admit, it felt so very good to laugh, and I know that it did my dear Fitzwilliam so much good to hear me. 

I suspect that I will always wonder who our child might have been, and sometimes reflect upon him, caressing the thoughts just as Fitzwilliam and I caressed over my belly and encouraged him to grow.   My sadness does not overwhelm me.  I have too many here with me to love to lose myself in mourning any longer.

Darcy closed the journal, running his hand over the cover.  There was a little bump in the pages where the rosebud, flattened but still green, lay inside.  Elizabeth entered the sitting room and smiled at him.  “All done?”

Holding out his hands, Darcy drew her towards him to stand between his parted legs.  Resting his chin on her bodice, he smiled up at her while she laughed and caressed his fine black hair.  “All done.”

Bending to kiss his nose, she hugged his shoulders as he hugged her waist.  She looked over the variety of journals scattered on the desk.  “You have been reading your father’s journals again, I see.” 

“mmmhmm.”

“Anything interesting?”

“It is all interesting, love.”

“I shall rephrase that, anything interesting to anyone other than you.”  She squealed when he began tickling her and protested as his long fingers found every vulnerable spot.  Crumpling against him, she gasped for air.  “Stop!”

“Not until you apologize.” 

“For what?”

“For implying that I am dull.”  His hands let go and she stood; only to have him scoop her legs out from under her and sit her down in his lap.  “Apologize.”

“I never said that you were dull!”  She squealed again when he smiled and began kissing her throat.  “Fitzwilliam!  No!  I cannot go to the modiste with your bites on my neck!”

“So stay home.”  He murmured and continued his nibbling and touching.  Elizabeth could feel the growing arousal pressing against her bottom, and he knew it.  Stopping, Darcy moved his hips a little, so that her legs parted just enough to accommodate the shape.  They looked at each other, breathing heavily.  “Stay . . .”