Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (52 page)

“Please have our guests’ luggage packed and have their carriage readied, they will leave for Derbyshire within the hour.”  The servant left the room and he sat down.  “Well at least all of our business has been concluded.”  Bingley nodded dully and took a gulp of his wine.

Mrs. Porter was reading the letter.  “He will not bury her at the estate.” 

Hurst cleared his throat.  “I noticed that.”

“He calls her your sister, not his wife.”  She added softly.  “I thought that he had travelled there to improve their marriage.”  She looked to Bingley.  “I wonder what he learned in the process.  I am afraid that Caroline was not of the same mind.”

“Caroline cared only of her advancement, her shopping, her parties, her jewels.”  Bingley looked to Hurst who was nodding.  “She had such aspirations.”

“She was furious that you did not deliver her Darcy’s hand.”  Hurst reminded him. 

“Darcy?”  Mr. Porter asked.

“Landowner of huge proportions in Derbyshire, very ancient name, and very happily married to an entirely inappropriate and wonderful choice of bride.”  He looked at Bingley.   “If he could not rejoice in Mrs. Darcy’s connections, imagine the lamenting he would have felt with Caroline’s?”

“I think that Caroline herself would have made him lament the marriage far more than her connections.”  Bingley sighed. 

“So true, well, I had better write an express to Louisa.  I imagine that Robinson wrote to her as well about what happened, I wonder what his plans will be for Wallace.”  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and stood.  “An hour?”

“Yes.”  Bingley stared at his hands. 

“I think that I have some mourning I can let you have.”  Mr. Porter followed Hurst out of the door when Bingley looked up.

“Mourning, that is right.  It was a year for Mother and Father, I do not know . . .” 

“Three months, dear.”  Mrs. Porter smiled and came over to hold his hand.  “It seems one is always wearing mourning for some relative or another.  How are you?”

“Numb.”  He blinked and wiped the tears that pricked his eyes.  “I . . . I never really liked Caroline, we were never close, and but I never wished her . . . Oh that sounds awful.  I tried to do my best for her, but she was so determined to be someone she was not.”

“She was your sister, Charles, your family is so small, of course you feel regret.  Both you and Louisa have done so well, I can understand your hope that Caroline would have risen above her upbringing and embraced the new man that her husband has become, and the baby she gave life.”  Mrs. Porter put her arms around him and let him cry.  “Better?”  She said softly when she felt his body calm.

“Yes.”  He drew a breath and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes.  “Thank you.”  He smiled a little at the woman who had been mothering him for the entire length of his stay.  “I do not know when I will have another opportunity to say this, and I know this is not the appropriate moment, but I have watched you and Mr. Porter and although he was not your first choice, I think that the two of you have a very comfortable marriage, and you should be proud of it.  I think that he is very happy with you.”

“You are sweet, Charles.”  She patted his cheek. 

“I have had many examples of marriages to observe, and I think . . . I think that my sister’s sad end will give me much to consider about what I want for my future.”  He wiped his eyes and rose to his feet.  “I should prepare to go.”

Watching him straighten and leave the room, she wiped her eyes.  “I think that Caroline might have finally done something good.”

“WHAT DO YOU SEE, LITTLE GIRL?”  Fitzwilliam retrieved his wide-eyed daughter from her perch on his shoulder.  “Do you see the horses?” Annabel said nothing, just blinking and smiling, then grabbed hold of his face to suckle his chin.  “How can a girl so pretty make such a mess?”  He laughed and pulled out his handkerchief.  “Explain yourself!”

“If she makes a noise at all, I would say you had great success.”  Evangeline joined them and wiped off her daughter’s face.  “Are you teething, dear?”

“If she is, she feels no pain.  But she does feel a little warm.” He looked at Evangeline with worried eyes.  “Is that normal?”

“For teething babies it is.”  She kissed him.  “Stop worrying, Papa.”

“It is smallpox.”  He examined a tiny pink dot on the baby’s cheek.

“She was vaccinated.”

“If that damn vaccination makes her ill . . .”

“Richard.”  Evangeline kissed him again.   “Look at the smile.  That is
not
a sick child.  I think that we should have named her Happy.” 

“No.”  Fitzwilliam cuddled her up in his arms and kissed her wispy hair.  “My beautiful Annabel, that is who she is.” Closing his eyes he sighed.  “I want to do well by her, Eva, and any other children we might have.”

“What is on your mind?  You are not yourself.”

Walking around the room, he looked over the decoration; rubbed Annabel’s back; and finally stopped to pull a letter from his coat.  “I was offered a position at the Royal Military College.”

“In Marlow?”  She took the letter and he shook his head.  “Where?”

“The college is moving next year, to Sandhurst.”  He sighed.  “I put in for a position years ago, after I was injured and before I knew of this move.  After we married, I thought it would not be so bad, travelling between here and there, maybe taking rooms nearby for a few days a week in some nearby town, Maidenhead is not far from there.”  He moved Annabel to his chest, kissing her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder.  Unconsciously, he swayed while she sucked her hand.  “But they are moving the whole thing next year, building a whole new grand facility.”

“Tell me about the position.”  Evangeline sat down and leaning against him; watched Annabel rubbing her face on his uniform.  “Do you want to take it?”

“I think that it is the only way for me to advance.  I just do not anticipate any more promotions without war duty.  Not unless it comes simply by the passage of time.  Moving to the new academy when it opens next year would carry a promotion as well as an increase in salary.  But it is thirty miles from here.”  He looked around their sitting room.

“We would have to sell the house.” 

“We could rent it out.”  He smiled encouragingly, then saw her doubtful expression.  “I know; we would need to buy something there, or rent, that is bound to be cheaper.”

“Not if they are anticipating this new influx of residents.  There may not be anything available.”

“We could live on site . . .” He saw her stare and chuckled.  “I know; no barracks for my family.”

“I was finally used to living in town.”  She smiled at him and shrugged.  “Back to the country.”

“It is not the wilderness, my dear.” 

“Away from the family.”  She sighed.  “Just as Jeffrey and Laura were comfortable bringing the children with them.  And your parents, we see them so much here, and we will never see the Darcys again.”

“I doubt that.”  He sank down in a chair and frowned at the thought.  “I will speak to Father.”

“No, he bought us this home, we cannot ask for more.  Perhaps the money we have saved from the wedding and the rest of my settlement . . .” She smiled at him and took his hand.  “We are not paupers or looking at life in the workhouse, dear.  You have wonderful investments, and that little extra money you would get from this move may not be worth all the trouble.  Perhaps we should just stay here.”  Lifting his hand to her lips, he smiled when she kissed it, then caressed her cheek with his fingers.

“I wish that I could give you an estate, Eva.  You should be living the life that every other woman in this family has.  You married the wrong man.”

“Richard if you say that again, I swear, I will strangle you with the braid on your shoulder!  I know what it is to marry the wrong man.”  She glared at him but tears were pricking at her eyes. 

He slipped a hand around her waist to draw her closer.  “Forgive me, dear.  I guess that I am just feeling sorry for myself.  I look around at all of our family, and I am the only one who has to work for a living, who
has
to work.  I appreciate the admiring looks from any who see me riding by in my impressive uniform, but I know that when it comes down to it, the army is a poorly paid, poorly fed, and if it were not for Napoleon, a thoroughly unwanted entity.”

“You are not starving.”  She patted his taut belly. 

“Thanks to my allowance.”

“Richard, please stop this.  You are the most optimistic, determined man I know.  When you are sad, it . . . I hardly know what to do with myself.”  She caressed his face.  “Please, dear.”

“Yes, Eva.”  He closed his eyes and determined to talk to his father before they left for Matlock and to write to Darcy.  Evangeline watched the baby apply her wet mouth to his ear and laughed as he made a face.

“Annabel!”  He batted her away and she stared at him, then resumed her watch of the passing traffic.  “I am wet!”  He complained and saw his wife’s brows rise.  “If it was your mouth I would not complain.”

“I have better technique, I think.”  She smiled and he pursed his lips.  “I will gladly follow wherever you need to go.” 

“Thank you.”  He kissed her.  “I will take care of my girls.” 

“LADIES, COME, we have work to do.”  Mrs. Annesley walked briskly into the music room.  “To the library.”

“The library?”  Georgiana said from the piano bench.  “What is there?”

“Large tables suitable for teaching, unless you prefer the schoolroom?”  She looked between the two of them.  “Well then, follow me.”  The two girls exchanged glances and rising from their seats, followed their new companion into the library where they found paper, ink, and pens waiting for them.  “Sit down.”

“What are we doing?”  Kitty picked up her pen like it was some foreign object. 

“You are writing letters.”

“Oh, we did that in school.”  Georgiana smiled.  “No need to practice . . .”

“Mrs. Darcy was quite specific about the skills she wants you to learn this summer.  She has given me an extensive list and I must say that I am very impressed with her thorough understanding of the accomplishments a woman needs to do well in her household, beyond the drawing room, which is all that your school seemed to teach.”

“Nanny Kate taught us many things . . .” Georgiana began defensively.

“I am sure that Mrs. Somers was a fine governess, and we spoke at length before she departed, however, she did tell your brother when she left you the first time that she had reached the end of her knowledge.  She came back as a kindness to your family after your brother, and particularly your sister, needed help following their harrowing experiences.  I understand that you added to their difficulties, Miss Darcy?”

“Me?”  Georgiana startled.

“And you have improved significantly.”  She nodded.  “Well then, I am picking up where Mrs. Somers left off.  I am going to work with you both, giving you an education of how to get along in the world beyond the walls of this home.”

“What did they tell you about me?” Kitty asked cautiously.

“That you need to stand on your own two feet and have confidence in yourself.  As Mrs. Darcy rightly pointed out to me, the mistress must be sure of herself or the staff will turn against her.  That is my first goal for you, Miss Bennet, instilling confidence.”

“Oh.”

“What about me?”  Georgiana asked quietly. 

“Your future is farther away, Miss Darcy.  You are emerging from childhood.  We will be working on a great many facets for your development.”

“Does this mean that Lizzy will not teach us anymore?” 

“Not at all, Miss Darcy.”  Mrs. Annesley smiled for the first time.  “And that is your first lesson, I think.  Recognizing a truly great mistress and trying to emulate her.  Mrs. Darcy has a tremendous amount of responsibility, and with time, you ladies will come to appreciate her role and hopefully will be prepared to assume a similar one in the future.  So let us begin.  All great mistresses write great letters.  Pick up your pens, and write a letter of complaint.”

“Complaint?”  Kitty giggled.  “Why?”

“Because a strong mistress does not accept shoddy work.”  Georgiana smiled.

“Good, Miss Darcy!”  Mrs. Annesley smiled.  “Now, get to work.” 

Elizabeth smiled and moved on from the doorway of the library and down the hallway towards the front door.  “Mrs. Darcy?”  Bernard bowed and held out his salver piled with the day’s post.  “I thought that you might wish to read the first one immediately.”  

“Thank you.  Oh no.”  Elizabeth’s hand went to her heart when she saw the black-edged envelope.  Biting her lip, she picked it up. 

“Elizabeth, I am going to meet . . .” Darcy saw the letter in her hand.  “Who?”

“I have not opened it yet.  The handwriting is familiar.”  She looked up at him.  “Oh, Will.” 

Taking her hand, he led her into the study as Bernard exited after delivering the rest of the letters, and closed the door behind him.  “Come, give it over.”  His face became blank as he braced for the news and carefully, he broke open the seal.  He closed his eyes and breathed.  “Mrs. Robinson.” 

“Mrs. Robinson?”  Elizabeth let out the same held breath.  “How?  What happened?”

“A miscarriage; and the illness that followed.”  They looked at each other and immediately his arms were tight around her and his face was buried in her hair.  “Stop it.  Stop it right now.”

“I am trying.” 

Darcy closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose then kissed the top of her head.  “Are you well?”

“Are you?”

“I am if you are.”

“Then, I am.”  They separated and kissed. 

He smiled slightly, and keeping one arm around her waist, he caressed her belly as he read the letter.  “This is from Bingley, he and Hurst are going directly to Swansdon for the funeral tomorrow.  They will decide their plans for visiting here after they see what Robinson needs.”  Darcy looked out of the window at the clear and lovely day.  “It is only thirty-five miles from here.”

“Will?”

“Should I go?”  He asked seriously.  “It was Bingley’s sister, and he is my brother.  Well, I feel that we are brothers.”