Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (40 page)

BOOK: Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice)
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“I know that he is.”  Mary looked back to her new husband who was being embraced by Elizabeth.  “Thank you for everything.”

“You are welcome.”  He let go and sent her off to hug everyone else.  Elizabeth quickly slipped beside him and he put his arm around her waist to draw her to his side.  “I am a mess.”

“So am I.”  She laughed and accepted his handkerchief.  “I felt an urge to cheer when he put the ring on her finger.”

“I saw that, I could see you trembling with joy.”  Turning, they slowly made their way down the aisle, leading the rest of the family towards the door and to the carriages.  Darcy bent to her ear, “I kept thinking, Come on, Phantom, move!”

“It was not a horse race!”

“I think that de Bourgh would beg to differ, the poor man was close to expiring this morning, just as he reached the finish.  How was Mary?”

“Oh, uncharacteristically dreamy.”  They stopped and looked back to see them alone by the registry and lost in each other’s arms.  “Oh dear.”

Darcy sighed.  “He could not wait for the carriage?”

“Mary!”  Elizabeth called.

Her head snapped up and she blushed when she saw Elizabeth.  “Oh!” 

“Still chaperoning, Darcy?”  De Bourgh covered his embarrassment.

“As long as you make it necessary, Brother.”  Darcy laughed and taking Elizabeth by the hand, walked outside. 

Shaking his head, Michael appeared behind them and gave his brother a shove.  “Plenty of time for that in the carriage, come on!  This is a church, may I remind you?” 

“Leave our brother alone!”  Charlotte smiled and gave Mary a sisterly kiss on her cheek.  “Oh, so many things that I have to teach you about these de Bourgh men!”

“I cannot wait to hear all of their secrets.”  Mary smiled as de Bourgh took her arm. 

Mrs. de Bourgh appeared.  “Another beautiful daughter!”  She sniffed and let go, then straightened.  “I am so very proud that Peter had the good sense to marry you, my dear!”

Mrs. Bennet stood by the door and watched as Mary was enfolded into her new family.  “Mrs. Bennet.”  Mr. Bennet said softly.  “It is time to go.”

She startled and lifted her chin.  “Well, that is done; and a good thing, too.  I could not imagine her ever marrying.  Could you, Mr. Bennet?”  She dabbed her

eyes and watched as Mary was hugged by Mrs. de Bourgh.  “And he is so rich, should Mr. Darcy die, he will look after us.”

“Mrs. Bennet,” He said tiredly.  “This day is not about you.”  He turned to join the happy crowd, leaving her standing alone. 

“I never said that it was.”  She sniffed and followed him.

Once again alone, the new couple walked together, following the rest of the family.  De Bourgh kissed her hand and smiled.  “I told you to keep me under control.”

“I have to take the blame for you kissing me in church?”  She gasped.  “That is unfair; I just vowed to obey you!”

“That is right, and we just heard a sermon on wifely duty.”  His eyes twinkled.   “At last we get to put all of our friend’s kind advice to good use.”

“Oh my.”  She looked down shyly and watched as her hand was again raised to his lips.  Silently they walked out to the last waiting carriage; and their very welcome privacy.  When the door was soundly shut and they were underway, de Bourgh wasted no time at all drawing her into his arms.  “Peter . . .”

“Hush.”  He kissed her.  “I will not waste a second, never again.”

 

“THE DECORATION IS UNCHANGED.”  Mrs. Bennet picked up a porcelain vase and looked it over when she paused by the entrance to the ballroom.  Mrs. Mercer involuntarily leaned forward to snatch it from her, and leaned back again when it was absentmindedly set back down. 

Elizabeth sighed, comments on decoration she could tolerate.  “I saw no reason to waste money on unnecessary change, particularly when Mr. Darcy and I are quite happy with our surroundings.” 

“Oh, but dear Mr. Darcy is such an important man, and you really must decorate his home with the very latest of style.  You must prove that you are worthy of him.”  Darcy growled and his hand pressed tightly against Elizabeth’s back.

She nudged him, trying to convey that she was in charge of this particular battle.  “I believe that I have his approval, Mama.”  She said quietly.

Unable to remain silent, Darcy turned to address Mrs. Bennet.  “She does.  My wife is an excellent judge of style, she does not need decoration to distract visitors from the pleasure of her company, and she does not waste the funds that hard work and careful spending has preserved for our and our children’s future.”  Mrs. Bennet’s eyes grew wide and she darted a look at her daughter.

“Fitzwilliam.”  She felt his body had stiffened.  “Mama was just concerned that our home be decorated in the style that befits our status.  It is well.”  He looked at her doubtfully but acquiesced to her determination.

“Where is Rosalie, Lizzy?”  Mr. Bennet asked quickly.

“She is upstairs, but I will have her brought down later.  Her cousins Annabel, Grace, and Margaret are here.  They play very well together.”  She looked up at Darcy with a mischievous smile.  “Freddy is a little too small for parties.”

“Frederick.”  Darcy said under his breath.

 “You do prefer proper names, dear.”

“My name is Fitzwilliam; would you love me if I was known as Fitzy?” 

“I wonder.  If I had heard Georgiana calling out Fitzy in the park that day, would I have looked at you twice?”

“I have been called Fitzy!”  Fitzwilliam walked over, drink in hand. 

“You it suits.”  Darcy said dryly, and taking Elizabeth’s elbow turned her decidedly away from her mother.  “Is this some army affectation or was this a school name?”

“Oh, school.”  He laughed.  “Can you imagine me charging the enemy, sword raised, calling out, “To me, Men!  Follow Fitzy!” 

Lord Matlock laughed and joined the group.  “My father would have rolled in his grave.”

“As would my mother if she had heard such derogation of her family name.”  Darcy said positively.

“But I do call you Will, on occasion.”  Elizabeth smiled.

“Lizzy.”  He said with a slight warning in his voice.  “That is not for common use.”

“Oh ho!”  Fitzwilliam laughed. 

“What are you laughing at?”  Evangeline joined them.  “Nothing admirable, I suspect.”

“Name-calling, dear.” 

“You two are such children.”  She smiled.  “How do you tolerate your boy, Elizabeth?”

“Oh, with great difficulty.”

“Such love.”  Darcy smiled and looked up.  “Ah, at last they arrive.”  Lifting his glass he raised his voice.  “To the happy couple!  Long may they live in peace, love, and harmony.”

“Hear, hear!”  The crowd cheered.

“Give us a kiss!”  Fitzwilliam cried.  “Come on de Bourgh, you’ve been chomping at the bit, let us see what you’ve got!”

“Quiet, Fitzwilliam.”  De Bourgh growled and looked at Mary.  “Shall we?”

“Peter . . .” He smiled and swooped her up in his arms for a very ardent kiss.  The ladies gasped and the men set down their glasses to applaud.  Mary steadied herself against his chest.  “Oh my!”

“I saw a pirate do that once.”  He chuckled. 

“I never saw that mentioned in your journals!”  Mary laughed and blushed when Kitty and Georgiana arrived to wave their fans at her.

De Bourgh grinned.  “Ahhh, some things I just kept in my head.  I am very talented with swinging about on a rope as well.”

“I cannot wait to see that demonstration.”  Layton crossed his arms and remarked to his wife.

“I would like that myself.”  She winked when he looked at her with wide eyes and whispered.  “I can see you now.”

“Oh, see me.”  He brightened then shook his head.  “See me falling to my doom!”

“I would gladly nurse you back to health.”  She tilted her head and he smiled.  “Yes?”

“Could we skip the rope swinging and go straight to the nursing?” 

“Oh my, I have never seen him so happy.”  Mrs. De Bourgh dabbed at her eyes then walked over to Mrs. Bennet.  “I so look forward to our first grandchildren, Mrs. Bennet.”

“I already am a grandmother.”  She said as she looked at Elizabeth and Darcy talking to Audrey and Singleton.  “I never see her.”

“Well when Jane and Robert have children you will see them all of the time.”  She looked around the room. “And I will be fortunate to have both of my sons’ children nearby.”

“Oh, yes, Charlotte.”  Mrs. Bennet saw where Michael and Charlotte were speaking to Jane and Lucas.  “What will you all call yourselves?”

“Pardon?” 

“Charlotte is Mrs. De Bourgh; you are Mrs. De Bourgh . . .  Lady Matlock!”  Mrs. Bennet called.  The woman turned to regard her.  Elizabeth’s head immediately swivelled to listen.  “Is not my daughter a peer now?”

“I am sorry?”

“Well, according to Mr. Collins, the former mistress of Rosings was Lady Catherine de Bourgh, with her now replaced as mistress by my daughter, is she not Lady Mary de Bourgh?”

“The title does not hand down, madam.”

“Well that makes no sense!  Mary is now a Lady!  Surely Captain de Bourgh is a gentleman!”

“He is, but he is not a Lord, Duke, Earl, Knight or any other title.  He is  The Honourable Captain Peter de Bourgh.  I know it is confusing.”  She smiled slightly.

“That is not right.” 

“Mrs. Bennet, my sister was Lady Catherine because of her birth, not her marriage, just as Darcy’s mother was a Lady, but her husband was merely a very wealthy landowner.” 

By this time Darcy and Elizabeth had joined them.  “So Mary is just Mrs. De Bourgh?”  She said with disappointment.

“I am afraid so, Mama.”  She looked up to Darcy.  “I am sure that she does not mind.”

“But how will you distinguish yourselves?”  Mrs. Bennet demanded.  “Three Mrs. de Bourghs in one village.  No, no, it must change . . .”

“Mama.”  Jane appeared and took her arm.  “Let us find you some punch.” 

“As much as I hate to admit it.  She does have a point.”  Darcy said softly.  “Small as it is.”

Charlotte laughed.  “I am Mrs. Michael de Bourgh; I think that is clear enough.  Mrs. Bennet is looking at status, that is all.”

“Oh.” 

“Charlotte knows her quite well, dear.”  Elizabeth patted his arm.  “By the way, has anyone seen Mrs. Peter de Bourgh?”  They all turned and looked around the room.  “Or Mr. Peter de Bourgh, for that matter?”

Darcy started to chuckle and pursed his lips.  “He does need a chaperone.”

“Where could they be?”  Elizabeth gasped.

“I imagine they are making good use of one of the very finely appointed rooms in this beautiful home.”  Lord Matlock smiled.  A door opened and they watched as Peter, smiling from ear to ear, guided Mary, blushing and dreamy-eyed, from the garden back into the ballroom.

“Been giving rope swinging demonstrations, de Bourgh?”  Singleton called.  He winked back at the other men. 

“Elizabeth, perhaps we should start the dancing,” Audrey suggested, “before this devolves any further.” 

“I agree.”  She nodded to the musicians in the corner and soon the ballroom was alive with song.  “Shall we?”  She smiled at Darcy.

“Of course.”  They joined the couples and lined up.  “Look at them.” 

“Still blushing.”  She laughed.

Stepping forward he took her hands.  “Do you remember our wedding night?”

“Of course.”

“What stands out?”  Elizabeth’s eyes danced and centred on his breeches.  Darcy’s eyes widened and she laughed.  “Elizabeth!”

“You asked; it was an obvious answer.”

“Here I thought it was romance.”  He sighed.

“Do you really want to know?”  She said softly as they turned around each other.  “Sleeping in your arms.”

“Oh.”  He smiled and looked down.  “I loved that, too.”

“And seeing you unclothed.”  She whispered.  “That neck . . .”

“Oh.”  He bit his lip and leaned to her ear.  “What else?”

“I dearly love your thighs, I discovered.  A horseman’s thighs, built for gripping.” 

“I do believe that when we return home, we will have some riding to do, Mrs. Darcy.”  He said meaningfully. 

“Mary.”  Peter said urgently.  “It is a little close in here; shall we go for some more air?”

“We just returned!”  Mary cried.  “Everyone will notice!”

“I do not care.  I just want to go home.” 

“Well . . . after a little cake?”  She said softly.  “And dancing?”

Peter smiled and sighed, stopping in the middle of the dance floor to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers, then oblivious to everything, he bent to kiss her.  “When the party is over.  Of course, my dear.”  He looked up to find everyone who was dancing smiling and watching them.  “Isn’t there anything more interesting for you to observe?”

“Darcy!”  Fitzwilliam called.  “What say you to a friendly wager?”

De Bourgh groaned.  Darcy smiled.  “Subject?”

“Let us keep count of the number of times Mrs. de Bourgh is kissed.”

“Mrs. Peter de Bourgh.”  Michael corrected.

“Precisely.”

“Oh that is too easy.  I would say how many times my new brother looks longingly at the door.”  Lucas laughed.

“I like that!”  Bingley smiled and swung Kitty around.  “We need an impartial judge.  How about the unmarried sisters?  They are acute observers, I notice.”

Kitty laughed and protested.  “But then we would only be staring at Peter!  A look is too hard to catch.   I like the kissing idea better.”

“Kissing it is.”  Lord Matlock determined.  “Stakes?”

“Enough of this!”  De Bourgh cried.

“Quiet.”  Layton glared.  “You are not involved.”

“I most certainly am!”

“Winner gets . . .” Fitzwilliam looked at Evangeline thoughtfully.  “An equal number of kisses from his wife.”

“Um, I am unmarried.”  Bingley pointed out, as he passed in front of Kitty.  She blushed and looked at Georgiana, who was dancing with Lydia. 

“Hmm, in the unlikely event that Bingley wins he may kiss the cheek of every lady in the room.” 

“Every lady who is out.”  Darcy said sternly, looking at the giggling girls down the line.

“Very well, Papa.” Fitzwilliam grinned.  “We will write down our wagers as soon as the set is finished.  De Bourgh, please hold back for a few minutes?”  He groaned. 

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