Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (69 page)

Darcy gently tugged the note from her fingers and glanced at the words he had written down long ago. 
Lizzy, Longbourn, Gracechurch Street, Gardiner.  Ebony hair, dancing hazel brown eyes, a laugh like a bubbling brook, a figure light and lovely, a smile that would soothe any man’s soul.
  He placed the page back inside of his hat.  “I was afraid that memory would fade.”

“Oh.”  She looked up and he held out his hands, and lifted her to stand. 

“And now I will do what I wished I had done that first time, the second time, the third time, and the fourth time I saw you and let you escape.”  He lifted her hands to his lips.  “My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I am in love with you.  Please tell me your name.”

“My name is . . .”  Elizabeth fell into his arms.  “Oh Will.”

“We cannot go backwards can we, love?”  Darcy pulled off the bonnet and rested his cheek in her hair, and rubbed her back as he held her to him.  “No change in costume will take you away from me, Elizabeth Darcy.” 

“I was just trying to look as I think I would have.”  She looked at the dress.  “I know how you hate bonnets.”

“I do with all my heart.”  He laughed and ran his hand through her long curls.  “But I love your hair like this.”

“I know.”  She rested her head on his heart.  “I am sorry to have frightened you.”

“I am sorry that I am so gullible, but I was not fooled for too long.”  Darcy closed his eyes and hugged her.  “More than anything in the world I want to love you right here and now.”  He felt her pull away.  “Where are you going?”

“What did you bring us?”  Opening the bags, she found the blanket.  “ahhhhh.”

“That was for a picnic.”  He smiled and blushed when she opened the second bag.  “
Two
bottles of wine, Mr. Darcy?  Did you think that I might resist your advances?”

“I like seeing you relax.” 

Picking up a bottle, she walked towards him.  “It is only eleven in the morning.”

“I want to taste every bit of you.”  He pulled her forward and licked her ear.  “And I want you to taste every bit of me.”

“I nibbled your bottom before I left this morning.”  Elizabeth laughed when his eyes opened wide.  “I did, and you smiled.”

“Why in heaven’s name did you stop!” 

“Because you are courting me today.”  Elizabeth laughed.  “We were just introduced sir, do you truly intend to seduce me out here on this windy hill?”  Seeing his eyes were growing dark and his breathing unsteady, she sat and pulled him down to the blanket.  Reaching up to draw his face down to hers she laughed when he lifted her up onto his lap.  “And I’m going to kiss you the way I wished you had kissed me while we were courting.”

“Ohhhhh, now that is a courtship I can admire!”  Darcy breathed.  “Shall we do that, love?  Instead of pretending to be people we no longer know or wish to be . . .” 

Shaking her head, Elizabeth silenced him with a kiss.  “You talk too much, Fitzwilliam Darcy!” 

“CALM YOURSELF, BINGLEY.”  Darcy laughed. 

“You are one to talk.”  He growled.  “What was that . . . that . . . kissing I saw in the dining room!”

 “I thought it was a perfectly reasonable use for an empty room.  Miss Bennet and I felt an unquestioned attraction to each other . . .”

“Miss Bennet?”  Bingley stared and shook his head.  “That game you are playing. What is it?”

“Never you mind.”

“May I remind you that it is Sunday?”  He said sternly.

“We were carried away; besides, you have caught us in a kiss before.”  Darcy’s lips twitched and walking up to his friend, he examined his cravat.  “We will be all that is proper for the rest of the day.”  He adjusted the fine linen and nodded.  “Relax.”

“Well, are we ready?”  Hurst appeared and rubbed his hands together.  “Where are the ladies?”

“They are enhancing their beauty.”  Darcy grinned and glanced at the stairs.

“You are disgusting when you are playing a game.”  Bingley glared.

“Jealous?”  He lifted one brow and looked to the stairs.  “ah.” 

“Papa!”  Rosalie led the way, sliding quickly down the polished wood. 

“Slow, love, slow.”  He met her at the bottom and lifted her into his arms.  “What are you doing here?”   Looking to Elizabeth he cocked his head.  “Surely she is not coming to church?”

“No, but there was no stopping her from saying goodbye.”  She and Louisa arrived and she smiled at Bingley, “Oh, you will be turning heads today!” 

“Just one.”

“No sir, you will be attracting a great deal of attention.”  Elizabeth walked around the nervous man and gave him a critical once-over.  “To think I had the opportunity . . .”

“That is quite enough, Mrs. Darcy.”  Darcy walked over and took her hand.  “Kiss our baby goodbye.” 

“Mrs. Darcy is quite right, Charles.  You are particularly handsome today.”  Louisa ran her fingers through his tousled hair and brushed off his shoulders.  “Well, shall we?”

“We were waiting for you, dear.”  Hurst offered his arm and led the way towards the carriage. 

Darcy started walking and forgot he had Rosalie in his grasp.  “Whoa.” 

“Whoa!”  She crowed. 

“No, little love.”  He chuckled and kissed her cheek, and turned to see Mrs. Robbins waiting.  Setting her down, he patted her head.  “You go off and play dear.  We will be back soon.”

“Nooooooo!” 

“Rosa.”  He said gently. 

“Nooooooooooo!”  She ran and wrapped her arms around his leg.  “Papa!”

“Rosalie Elizabeth Darcy.”  Elizabeth said sternly.  “Enough.”

Rosalie sniffed and mumbled.  “bye.”

Elizabeth knelt to hug her and kiss her cheek, promising they would be home soon.  Standing, she took Darcy’s arm, steering him quickly to the door.  “Come on, before you are back there commiserating with her.”

He looked back at the forlorn baby and sighed.  “I guess that sometimes the stare does not work.” 

Climbing into the waiting carriage, they travelled to the church.  If the carriage itself did not attract enough attention, the occupants certainly did.  Word had gone around that the Netherfield party would attend there, and it seemed that half of the congregation was standing outside to see them.  “This is like walking into the theatre at the height of the Season.”  Elizabeth whispered to Louisa.  “Poor Mr. Bingley.” 

“I wonder what they expect to happen.”  She whispered back and taking Hurst’s arm, they walked through the crowd.  Darcy’s smile had disappeared the moment he saw the throng.  Bingley was smiling nervously and twisting his gloves, Hurst was sedate and serious.  Elizabeth recognized most of the faces and smiled and responded to greetings as she and Darcy led the group, coming to a stop before one pew.  “Miss Martin.”  She smiled.

“Mrs. Darcy!”  Abbey stood and took her hand.  “It has been so long.”

“Much too long.”  She looked over to Louisa. 

“Did you receive my note, Miss Martin?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Hurst, and I will be glad to come to Netherfield tomorrow.”  She smiled and saw Bingley standing stock still and staring at her.  “Mr. Bingley.”

“Miss Martin.”  He said stoically.

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth.  “Pardon me Miss Martin, have you room in your pew for us?  Just slide down a bit?  Bingley, you go first.”  Giving his friend a solid nudge in the back, Bingley blushed and lurched forward.

“Excuse me.”  He said nervously and looking back he saw only Darcy’s tall form and his unreadable expression.  He took his place beside Abbey and was relieved to find Elizabeth beside him.  She leaned to his ear.

“Deep breath; no need to make conversation, just follow the service and see if you like how this feels.”  He looked at her and she smiled.  “Determine if you feel at home right where you are.”

Nodding, he looked back to Abbey who was blushing and staring steadfastly at her hands.  As the service began they did not speak, but they shared his hymnal, and he held her prayer book.  When they sang he found that her eyes were with his, when they knelt, she found that his hands were far too close to hers.  When they flubbed the reading in the same way, they both broke into smiles and had to stop themselves from laughing out loud.  By the end of the service, the stiffness was gone, and they sat comfortably side by side.  Bingley felt Elizabeth’s hand on his arm and looked up in surprise. 

“Too soon?”  She smiled and winked at him. 

Bingley turned to Abbey and stood.  “I have never enjoyed a service more, Miss Martin.”

Rising with him she blushed.  “I cannot recall one moving so quickly before.” 

“I hope that you will accept my sister’s . . .”

“Oh yes, my aunt and I will . . .”

“Your aunt?”  He looked disappointed.

“Yes.”  She looked down and heard a throat clearing beside her.  “Oh.  We are in the way.” 

“Of course.”  Bingley moved out to the aisle and offered her his arm. 

She looked to her uncle who nodded and sighing with relief, she lightly touched his sleeve.  Bingley looked at the delicate pink glove that looked so well on his blue coat, stood straight, and proceeded out of the door and into the sunshine.  All eyes were on them, and more than one mother and daughter determined that they were not going to let this opportunity slip so easily away.  Where Louisa and Elizabeth observed the reactions, Bingley and Abbey saw only each other.

Reluctantly, she lifted her hand from his arm.  “Thank you, Mr. Bingley.”  She looked up to the green eyes that matched her own.

Bingley took her hand and bowed over it.  “Thank you so much for waiting.”

Chapter
22

7 October 1811

Elizabeth sleeps at last and I simply cannot, far too many things are plaguing me.  Better that I am up then rolling about and disturbing her.  There is no sitting room here, so I am seated at a writing desk, not five feet from the bed.  My love sleeps in the very centre, a doll almost amongst the covers.  She is so tired, and I can only admire the patience and love that she showed our Rosalie from the moment we returned from church and we were faced with a little girl who deeply wanted Mama.  Poor Rosa, she was miserable, her back teeth are cutting through now.  Everyone from Mrs. Robbins to the housekeeper suggested different remedies, Mrs. Nicholls was ready to heat a hot nail to press into her gums, and the butler spoke of the local apothecary coming with purgatives.  Mrs. Hurst swore by honey and salt, but in the end, we gave her a very tiny dose of laudanum, we had no mercury to try.  We pray for this time to be over, but we know that we have years to go.  So many children die of teething.
¹⁴
It seems every milestone is a new threat to our baby, but at last she seems to be calm.

While Elizabeth was soothing Rosalie and by extension, me, I concentrated on the absolutely wonderful day we spent at Oakham Mount on Saturday.  I do not believe we have ever kissed for so long before.  Hours and hours it seemed, so lost were we.  My jaw still aches, my lips are tender; my tongue is still suffused with the taste of the orange wine we drank.  My Elizabeth was tipsy and soft, oh so soft.  She moulded into my arms and we simply kissed, like two young lovers who had not yet experienced the joy of lovemaking.  I would not give up those hours we spent for anything; it was the courtship of our dreams, all of those lonely days, years, that we spent apart, staring at nothing, wishing desperately to be together instead of bending to the imposition of propriety.  We were free to act out the kisses and tentative first touches, and heaven help me, I loved it and ached desperately to bring her somewhere warm and love her. 

Yesterday while Rosalie dozed in her mama’s arms, Elizabeth was again in mine and we continued the conversation that occupied our time between the kisses.  We talked about Oakham Mount; she told me so many stories, just as I had told her stories of the overlook at Pemberley and the glade.  It was wonderful to hear of her youth in the very spot where she experienced it, and soon she will take me to other places that she holds dear.  I think that at each one, our little courtship will advance; this is how we will discover more of each other.  At last I will know Elizabeth Bennet and everything that created her
.

Darcy heard Elizabeth murmur something and setting down his pen, blew out the candle and climbed back into bed as the rooster crowed.  Keeping his eyes closed he listened to Elizabeth’s soft steady breathing, and reached over to her, his hand resting on her hip.  Gently he slid it over to the baby.  “Tell me you are there, little one.”  He urged, “Tell Mama at least, and she will tell me.  She needs to know you are really there.”  Lying on his side, he rested his face on her pillow, and thought of the evening before.  “Rosa.”  He sighed, and kissed Elizabeth’s shoulder, the faint scent of her lavender perfume helped to ease his aching head.  “Who comforted your mama when she was hurting?”  He wondered.  Again he caressed the new baby and his thoughts turned to the slow burn he had been battling since they first arrived.  “Fat and lazy?  Too ugly for me to want?”  He whispered furiously.  “What did you do to Elizabeth that drove her miles from home to climb a steep, lonely hill to find relief?”  Angrily he envisioned Elizabeth’s escapes from Longbourn, then thought of how she had worked so hard to comfort their baby. 

“No more.”  Darcy decided.  “No more hurting you.”  He kissed her shoulder and curled protectively around her.  “No more.” 

HOURS LATER, after breakfast and assurances that Rosalie was calm; Darcy set off with Bingley and Hurst into the fields, but left them to take a solitary path to Longbourn.  About a half mile from the house, he spotted the object of his journey.  “Mr. Bennet.” 

“Mr. Darcy.”  He turned and smiled.  “You are about early, I would ask if you are shooting but I see no gun.” 

“No sir, I thought better of carrying one this morning.  Bingley and Hurst are shooting and I will join them soon.”  His jaw was set and his eyes were unreadable.  “I would like to speak to you about Mrs. Bennet.”