Memory: Volume 2, Trials to Bear, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice)

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Memory: Volume 2, Trials to Bear, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) Page 46

by Wells, Linda


  “Yes, I do remember that. And I also remember trying to discourage you from trying to be like anyone other than yourself.”

  “I was merely learning the rules, Fitzwilliam, not changing my personality.” She smiled at his gentle disagreement. “No?”

  “I was afraid of you becoming one of them.”

  “Well, clearly that did not happen.” She laughed and looked back at the journal. “I wonder if we will remember these times when Rosa is this age? Or will we be starting all over again?”

  “We can always come back and read our thoughts.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist. “But seventeen years is a long time from now.”

  “1827.” Elizabeth rested her head against his heart. “I cannot imagine what the world will be like.”

  He rested his cheek in her hair. “Hmmm. Napoleon will at last be defeated.”

  “I certainly hope so!”

  He chuckled and squeezed her tight. “Railroads will cross the land.” She looked up at him and he smiled. “I am certain of it. We will travel like lightening one day.”

  “We could visit Jane.”

  “And she could visit us.” He kissed her forehead. “And you will have given birth to our fourteenth child.” Elizabeth pinched his bottom and he yelped.

  “I would have long past pushed you from the bed, sir, or better yet taken up residence in my own!” She glared at him.

  “No, no, never relegate me to sleeping alone.” He begged. “Promise me that.”

  “Why you would still want to touch me after the thirteenth child is beyond me.” She sniffed, and felt his embrace tighten. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.” He kissed her softly. “I love you, dearest.”

  “I love you.” She looked up to his twinkling eyes and smiled. “And no, you will not miss the ball.”

  “Did I ask?”

  “You were beginning to sweet-talk me.” She tapped his nose. “An admirable attempt, but we must go.”

  “Why?” He said unhappily. “A private ball would be bad enough, but this public exhibition disgusts me.”

  “Because it is not so exclusive anymore?” Elizabeth let go of him. “Surely that is not it. You have attended St. James’s how many times in the past?”

  Darcy closed his eyes. “Perhaps six?”

  “And?”

  “Dearest …”

  “Fitzwilliam, we cannot be entirely invisible. We have not accepted any invitations to anything at all since our arrival. My desk is overflowing with requests to attend balls, routs, breakfasts … I could go on and on, and you know that I am not going to push you, but the plain truth is that Mary will be seventeen in weeks! Why if she were so inclined, we both would have been presented this summer, and would have begun taking her to private balls! We must think of her future. And it will not be long before we have Georgiana to consider. We must think of them with our behaviour, so they have the best opportunities!”

  “You sound frighteningly like your mother and my aunt.” He said worriedly.

  “I do?” Elizabeth blanched.

  “I am afraid so.” He walked away and ran his hand through his hair. “Mary does not want to come out until next year.”

  “But she needs the experience.” Elizabeth sighed. “I am not saying public events. I only wish her to … polish her skills for someday. She knows so little.”

  “She has had a year of dance lessons.” He pointed out. “And etiquette, and so many other things. She is far more prepared than …”

  “Than I was?” Elizabeth said coldly.

  “I did not say that.”

  “Did I embarrass you with my naiveté, sir?”

  He shook his head in frustration. “You are not jumping to conclusions, you are leaping to them. Do not put words in my mouth or presume to discount my feelings.”

  “Oh, so I am presuming now?” Elizabeth paced to the opposite end of their private sitting room and turned. “And what, pray tell, have I said that treads upon your delicate feelings? I always thought that I was rather the guardian of them, but apparently I presumed incorrectly there as well?”

  Darcy stared at her. “I thought that you understood.” Turning on his heel, he left the room. Elizabeth watched him go in disbelief and her arms, which had been protectively embracing her chest dropped to the side.

  “What did I not understand?” She said angrily. “I just wished for him to go to a ball! Willingly! For our sisters, not for us! We are settled, we do not need to put on a show, but they …” Horrified, her hand went to her mouth when she realized his feelings. “Oh, Fitzwilliam!”

  She ran from the room and out into the hallway. Spotting a footman, she inquired after the master and was told that Darcy had gone downstairs. Elizabeth reached the foyer in time to see him reaching for the door. “What will I do with you?” Darcy looked at her and said nothing, but she could read the distress in his eyes, then watched as his gaze shifted over her shoulder. “Georgiana?” He nodded curtly and opened the door. She asked for her bonnet and went after him. It did not take long to catch up; he was waiting at the end of the walkway, staring into the park. Together, they walked without touching to that one particular bench and sat down. Darcy rested his elbows on his knees and stared at his clasped hands. When he did not look up after several moments, Elizabeth broke the silence. “I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.” She drew a breath and did not touch him. “You were forced by your well-meaning relatives to attend endless functions, meeting people who neither interested you, nor who appreciated anything of you other than your possessions. You despised it. You fought it, and if you had acquiesced to it … you would be forever lost in an unfeeling marriage to some proper heiress right now, or perhaps be living in the eighth month of mourning for your wife, Anne.” She wiped the tear that fell down her cheek. “Instead you waited and hoped for the unspoiled, unformed, unlikely possibility of me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you understand my feelings?”

  Darcy looked up at her and watched her eyes well up with tears. “You see, I spent that time feeling every moment how unworthy I was, how uneducated and how I could never, ever allow my hopes to come true. I thought that all of my dreams were to remain that way because even had we met, once we did, you would see me for what I was and reject me out of hand.”

  “Never.” He said fervently and moved beside her to wipe her cheek. “Never.”

  “Never is a strong word.” She whispered, “But even so, I did not know that those years I waited.” She sniffed and took his hand. “I am not pushing for our sisters to be on the marriage mart, I … I just want Mary to have confidence that I know she does not have naturally. She has the benefit of lessons, yes, but a group of girls is not the same as mixing with real people. I … I want her to know what she wants so that when the day comes that a special gentleman asks her to dance, she will recognize him.” Elizabeth caressed his cheek. “I was not rejecting your feelings by asking that we prepare ourselves for this inevitable and fast-approaching time in their lives. I was simply saying that even if they are not ready, we need to be. We need to know what to expect when we take them out there. It will not be we dancing alone and shutting out the world. It will be we, watching and evaluating every man who approaches.”

  “I never meant to imply that you are uneducated or unworthy in any way.”

  “I never meant to imply that I did not understand your struggles.”

  Drawing her into his arms, Darcy kissed her. “I am so sorry, love. You are so confident now that I forgot how insecure you once were.” He looked into her eyes and kissed her again. “And still are. When I saw you becoming defensive, I knew that I had to leave before I made it worse.”

  “Forgive me for not realizing what you were saying, and for overreacting.” Elizabeth leaned her head on his shoulder, and they sat embraced, ignoring the scandalized looks of any who passed, and stared out at the sunlight glinting on the Serpentine. Eventually they both
took deep breaths and let them out. “Is everything well?”

  “It always was. You know that I would have been back to talk to you, do you not?”

  “Yes, Will.” She smiled softly. “I know you as you know me, and was not upset with that; I just chose to come after you instead of waiting. How many times have I become silent with you?”

  “I think that it gives us time to form coherent thoughts.” He saw her eyes roll and shrugged. “I know that it helps me. I do not have your tongue, my love.”

  “Yes you do.” She let it peek between her lips and he groaned.

  “Dearest Elizabeth, how can you speak to me of your tongue here? What I would give right now to feel it upon my person.” He closed his eyes against the enticing sound of her laughter, then opened them to see her warm gaze, and shook his head. “But it seems that we need to seriously plan for Mary. I understand your desire to do well by her.”

  “Perhaps we should include her in the conversation.” She smiled and caressed his cheek. Darcy kissed her hand and nodded. “And … Since she is adamant about not coming out until next year, I suggest that we celebrate our wedding day with a trip to Vauxhall with our sisters, and skip the ball at St. James’s.”

  Darcy smiled and hugged her. “Oh? So you replace one bit of torture with another?”

  “I seem to recall that you enjoyed our visit there.” She laughed. “Especially dinner.”

  “mmm. Perhaps we can ask Richard and Eva to join us. He knows something about the dark paths where a gentleman can take advantage of his lady.” He kissed her gently. “I like this idea of yours.”

  “Then on the anniversary of our meeting, we may return right here.” She looked over her shoulder. “There is a lovely bit of grass. We can picnic there.”

  “And walk at Kensington afterwards.” He reminded her.

  Elizabeth smiled and kissed him. “Alone.”

  “Together.”

  21 JUNE 1810

  Today is the anniversary of my becoming husband to Elizabeth Bennet Darcy. No other words are necessary to express my absolute joy.

  What do I remember of that glorious event one year ago today? Exhaustion, exhilaration, laughter and at last, completion. What do I remember of this past year? To list the emotions I have enjoyed and suffered would be impossible. To imagine experiencing them with anyone other than Elizabeth is unthinkable. You have given me a life that I know would never have come with any other. Thank you, my love.

  21 June 1810

  Where my husband is unable to express his joy in words, I shall take up the charge to express mine. One year ago today I ran down the aisle and embraced my future by grasping my Fitzwilliam’s waiting hands. And now I find myself not only a wife, but a mother. We both have grown so much, but now the joy is that the memories we have created are shared. It is not our hopeful imaginations that fill the voids in our lives anymore, but the family we have created together. Every day is not perfect; we range from teases to arguments, play to work, silent contemplation to breathless lovemaking. In it we discover who we are and who we wish to become. I will forever be grateful for this life you have given me, Fitzwilliam.

  Darcy smiled and looked up from the journal to see Elizabeth smiling at his. “We are a silly pair.”

  “Philosophical.” She nodded and closed the book. “So you became husband to Elizabeth Darcy?”

  “Do you disagree?” He closed her journal and took her hand. “There is a bit of gold here that indicates it is so.”

  “Hmm. So there is.” She lifted her hand and smiled at the simple band. Darcy took her hand and kissed the ring. “Ah that was very nice.”

  He chuckled and hooked her hand over his arm. “To the pleasure gardens, my wife?”

  “Well we could argue that the pleasure gardens are in this suite of rooms.” She smiled wickedly.

  “No, no, I have no argument with you there.” He grinned and nipped her lip with his teeth. “But I do believe that our sisters would not understand the sentiment.”

  “Elizabeth! Fitzwilliam!! Are you coming?” Georgiana’s voice was heard floating in from the hallway.

  “Off we go.” He gestured to the doorway. “The commander has spoken.”

  “Darcy, do I need to unsheathe my sword?” Fitzwilliam called.

  “You know, if I were a woman who read novels, I could find some interesting comments to make about their choice of words.” Elizabeth’s eyes danced as Darcy’s grew wide. “But of course, I am an innocent.”

  “Maybe a year ago, love.” He smacked her bottom and she squealed as they headed out the door. “No more!”

  “DO YOU KNOW, I think that my cousin has at last learned to enjoy life. He had a grand time ferrying around his wife and sisters at Vauxhall. Why the man smiled! Almost as often as his lovely wife laughed.” Fitzwilliam grinned.

  “Really?” Lord Matlock stretched out his legs and snatching a tart from the tray before him, popped it in his mouth before his wife could move them away. He snorted in triumph and began looking over the remaining morsels. “Well, I cannot doubt that he enjoyed missing the ball, although, it was remarked upon.”

  “In what way?” Eva caught Lady Matlock’s eye and drew the tray to the other side of the table. Her father-in-law glared at her and she smiled. “Perhaps one of us would like one too, Father.”

  “Well …” He shrugged and gave in to her smile. “Very well.”

  “How generous of you, Henry.” Lady Matlock opened her parasol and shaded herself from the sun in the garden behind Matlock House. Addressing Evangeline, she explained, “Darcy and Elizabeth were expected, when they did not appear, speculation was if there was trouble in paradise.”

  “Fools.” Fitzwilliam snorted. “Those two will never float down from that cloud they inhabit.”

  “Richard, they are hardly doe-eyed youths, they are well-grounded in reality.” Evangeline chastised him. “I think that they appreciate what they have together and simply will not let anyone or anything ruin that for them.”

  “I know, I know.” He took her hand and kissed it. “I endeavour to emulate them.” She smiled and he turned to his mother. “So the crowd missed gawking at them, is that the gist of the gossip?”

  “That and their noted non-acceptance of the Creary’s invitation.” Lord Matlock smirked. “Well done, Darcy.”

  “He does not let go of offences easily.” Fitzwilliam reminded him. “He was after me yesterday, asking if I knew any ex-soldier friends who could confirm that Wickham was really dead. He wanted them to seek out the surgeon who got his body for anatomy practice and see if they observed any marks before they hacked it up.”

  “Oh, this is pleasant.” Lady Matlock said coldly.

  “Forgive me, Mother.” He cast his eyes down.

  Lord Matlock’s lips twitched. “And were you able to accommodate him?”

  “I know a few and put them on the case.” He shrugged. “He will not rest until the news is confirmed. He did send someone to interview Mrs. Younge and she swore on her mother’s grave that she had seen nothing of Wickham. I think he is satisfied on that count, at least.”

  “Well, I suppose that I can understand his worry.” Lord Matlock smiled. “So what happened at Vauxhall?”

  “Oh, well, a married Darcy is a rogue.” Fitzwilliam grinned. “I showed him just which path to visit while we distracted the girls with the jugglers.” He winked at Evangeline. “He was quite grateful for my advice, and they were rather flushed upon their return.”

  “Hush Richard.” Evangeline poked him. “It was their wedding anniversary!”

  “Why do you think that I made the offer?” He looked offended. “Any other day and I would have disappeared with you and left him to chaperone!” Evangeline sighed while his father laughed.

  “One year. It seems much longer than that.” Lady Matlock smiled. “I can only imagine what the next year will bring.”

  “FITZWILLIAM!” Elizabeth cried. “What are you doing?” He laughed, and keeping his hand over
her eyes, guided her into the study.

  “It is a surprise!” He said proudly. “To mark the day we met, three years ago, today.”

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy! I demand that you unhand me this instant!”

  “Wait, wait …” He positioned his body behind hers and leaned down to kiss her ear. “Ready?”

  “Yes!”

  “Look.”

  Darcy lifted his hand away and slid his arms around her waist. Elizabeth blinked and looked at the canvas displayed on the easel before her. “It is lovely.” She smiled and looked back up at him. Seeing that he was clearly waiting for something more, her gaze returned to the landscape. Carefully examining it, she began to feel the stirrings of a memory. “I have seen this before …”

  He nuzzled his lips to her ear and kissed it gently. “Yes.”

  “Where …Will how can I think when you kiss me like that?” She whispered while his mouth nibbled her throat. “It was not recent …”

  “Mmmm, no.” He traced his tongue to her shoulder and began his nibbling again. Trailing his fingertips up over her breasts to tenderly circle the nipples, he felt the dampness of her milk letting down and stopped his movement. Instead, he firmly stroked his hands down her waist to caress her hips, while his mouth continued its slow torture of her skin.

  “The art …” She moaned. “oh, the Royal Art Exhibition?”

  “I was standing right behind you, love, almost as close as this. If I could have peeked around your bonnet, I would have pulled you into my arms then and there, before your uncle, before my sister, and made you mine.” He whispered heatedly. “I heard your laughter, I knew it was you.” He turned her around to look down into her eyes. “I heard your voice, I knew it was you. It had to be you.”

  “Oh Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth stood on her toes and met his ardent, insistent kisses. Darcy’s hands ran down her back to her bottom, and lifted her up to rub his erection against her centre. “If I had but torn that damnable bonnet from you then, we would have found each other … Oh my love!” He kissed her hard, then dropping her back to her feet, unbuttoned the front of her gown to expose her ripe breasts. Hungrily he fell upon them, sucking them, feeding upon one, then the other, emptying her so he could now feast slowly, and enjoy her as he wished. “I love you.” Darcy dropped to his knees and lifted her gown up to her waist and pressed his lips to her thighs.

 

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