Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (10 page)

Darcy chuckled at their daughter whose eyes had finally closed.  “She can sleep through anything.”

Elizabeth looked around the room, and spotting a door, opened it and cried out in triumph.  Curious, Darcy walked over to see a nursery, long abandoned, but containing a small bed.  Elizabeth pulled off the dust cover and Darcy lay the baby down.  When he straightened, he laughed and scooped Elizabeth up and carried her back to the bedchamber.  “How much time do we have?”

“Not nearly as much as we would like.”  She laughed when he set her down on the edge of the bed and placing his hands on either side of her, leaned down to kiss her while she held his face.  Darcy kept leaning until she was on her back, and her legs dangled over the edge.  He opened his breeches and lifted her skirt.  “Ohhhh.”  He slid inside of her and they kissed and rocked, steadily and quietly.  Elizabeth wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders.  They felt their pleasure rising and the tendrils of warmth and deeply desired release building and spreading, his thrusts came faster and deeper, the bed creaked, their breathing and kisses grew frenzied and . . .

“Papa!” 

“What!”  Darcy startled and gasped, feeling a hand touch his leg and then clutch at him as Rosalie pulled up to stand, hanging onto his boot.  “Good Lord!”  He choked and stared at Elizabeth, whose eyes were wide with surprise. 

“Rosalie?” She gasped.

“Mama!”

“Oh heavens!” 

“What should I do?”  Darcy asked desperately as Rosalie let go of his leg and moved to hold onto the bed, peeking just over the edge to see Elizabeth.

“Mama!”

“Can you finish?”

“Are you mad?”  He glanced at the baby and saw her fall to her hands and knees to crawl away.  His gaze turned back to his wife.  “Lizzy, I . . . I am so close, I was . . .”

She reached up to his face and pulled him down to kiss him hard.  It took seconds but he gratefully felt the release come.  He closed his eyes with relief.  “I am so sorry.”  He panted and saw her smile softly.  “Tonight, tonight it will be better.”

“No baby.”

“Not a chance.”  He declared and slowly regained his composure while behind them they heard a triumphant, “ahaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

He bent to Elizabeth and they rested their foreheads together.  “How did our ancestors do this sharing one room with an entire family?”  She laughed and he at last stood and helped her up.  They looked to see Rosalie peeking from behind the curtains, then ducking behind them and giggling.  Exchanging glances, they burst into laughter. 

“This room has an entirely different meaning to you now, does it not?”  Darcy drew her into his arms to kiss her lovingly and hugged her tight.  They watched their daughter and smiled.

“I will never walk past this door again without thinking of this terribly botched assignation.”  He caressed her cheek and kissed her again.  “Thank you.”  He then turned to see his bright-eyed girl.  “But no thanks to you!”

“AND THIS IS THE THRONE ROOM.”  De Bourgh declared, at last finishing the tour of the house for the party. 

“Throne room?”  Mary laughed and smiled up to him.  “Was Rosings a summer estate for royalty?”

“No.”  He resisted the desire to lean down and kiss her and instead squeezed the fingers on his arm.  “This was the room where Lady Catherine held court.  There used to be a rather intimidating chair in that corner, where she could see all parts of the room, and watch you, pronouncing your movements as proper or reprehensible.”

“She sat in judgement?” 

“Indeed.”  He glanced at his mother.  “We humoured her for a time.”

“A very brief time, until we had our bearings.”  Mrs. de Bourgh sniffed.

“The armour is gone!”  Georgiana cried.  “Oh and look, the paper is so bright!”  She spun and spotted her brother entering the room with Elizabeth and Rosalie.  “I remember the last time I was here, it was so dark, I swore that the suits of armour came alive at night and marched around the house!”  Everyone laughed but she was serious.  “I did!  I have not been here since the Easter before Papa died, but oh, Fitzwilliam, if you had not been away; I would have come knocking on your chamber door to protect me!”

“I have no doubt.”  He chuckled and looked at Rosalie’s face deep in sleep on his shoulder.  “At least this little girl will never be frightened of this place.”

“She hasn’t met Lady Catherine yet.”  De Bourgh winked.

“Hmm, so true.”  Darcy kissed his baby.  “I imagine that Rosalie’s reaction to you will be mild in comparison.”

“I look forward to that.”  He rubbed his hands together and smiled at Mary who was regarding him doubtfully.  “No, my dear Miss Mary, wait until you meet her before you judge our behaviour.  Then you may chastise as you will.”  He offered her an arm.  “Shall we visit the gardens?”

Mary looked at Elizabeth for direction.  “I think that I saw a covered swing outside.” 

“Yes!”  De Bourgh instantly picked up on Elizabeth’s thinking.  “You could sit out there with Miss Darcy as I show Miss Mary around.” 

“We could walk with you.”  Kitty suggested and started giggling when de Bourgh closed his eyes.

“Yes, we would be happy to walk along, or would that be too many of us?”  Georgiana looked at them with wide innocent eyes, then fell into giggling with Kitty. 

“I think, girls, that you may join me in preparing for Easter dinner tomorrow, and how we might entertain our guests.” 

“oh.”  Georgiana sighed.  “Aunt Catherine is really coming.”

“She is, as are Charlotte and Michael.  Come along, girls.”  Mrs. de Bourgh winked at Elizabeth, who stifled her laugh with her hand. 

Mary and de Bourgh walked out to the garden and Darcy and Elizabeth settled onto a swinging bench.  Elizabeth leaned against his chest, and they both closed their eyes and listened to the birds while Rosalie slept. 

“We seem to be all alone, Mary.”  De Bourgh looked up to the swing to make sure that they were not looking and lifted her hands, first one then the second, to his lips.  Mary blushed.  “Our first time alone.”

“Yes.”  She watched his mouth as he smiled, and blinked.   “I . . . Is this right?”

“Oh yes.”  He nodded confidently and placing her arm on his, started to walk.  Knowing precisely where he was going, he found his way behind a tall and conveniently placed hedge.  At last they were truly away from all eyes, and he lifted her fingers to his lips, then turning her hand, caressed the wildly beating pulse on her wrist.  “Oh Mary, what am I to do?”

“About . . . what . . . sir?”  She whispered when he kissed her fingers again.

“How am I to contain my affection for you?”  His steps ceased and he turned to face her, caressing the back of his fingers over her cheek, and watching longingly as they passed so close to her lips.  “You are so lovely.”

“No . . . I am not at all.  You are so very,” Mary watched in fascination as his eyes grew darker and is nostrils flared, “wrong.”

His fingers again lifted, this time to gently caress a long tendril of her slightly wavy hair.  Mary closed her eyes and she heard him moan.  “You will give me this.”  He ordered softly.  “I want this for my own.”

“My hair?”  Her voice quavered and he caressed her cheek with his fingertips.  “Why?”

“Peter.”  He said softly.  “Please call me by my name, Mary.”

“Peter.”  Mary looked up to see his eyes were no longer dark, but warm and soft.  She relaxed and tentatively reached up to touch his smooth cheek.  “Peter.”  He smiled and she traced the small dimple that appeared on one side, and laughed.  “Why have you only one?”

“One?”  He laughed.  “One what?”

“Dimple.”  She blushed and looked down, only to have her chin lifted by his caressing thumb. 

“I do not know.  We will have to look at my brother and see if he is the same.”  He licked his lips and laughed softly.  “Does it displease you?”

“No, you have a very handsome face.”  Mary smiled and looked down again only to have his thumb raise her chin back up.  “You will not let me look away.” 

De Bourgh’s head wagged slowly.  “No, you will have to bear with my lopsided, handsome face.”  He continued to caress her cheek with one hand and reached to grasp her fingers with the other.  “I want a lock of your hair so that I will have a part of you always by my side.”  His gaze travelled over her.  “Mary, do you like Rosings?  Does it please you?”

“Very much.”  She said softly and swallowed.  “It is a beautiful home.”

“It does not frighten you?”

“Why would a house frighten me?”

“You looked unsure when we arrived.”

“That was before I saw you inside of it.”  She saw the question in his eyes.  “It is the people within who make the difference.  Lizzy and Darcy fill Pemberley with their love.  You and your mother do the same for Rosings.”  She saw his smile.  “If the people inside are full of warmth than the walls will exude it as well.”

“You find me warm?” 

“I do.”

“Mary . . . I . . .” He closed his eyes and felt her free hand caressing his face.  “Oh Mary, I want so much to speak my heart and mind, I want to move on from this state of waiting and seeing.  I know, I
know
what I want but I fear that you are not yet prepared to hear what I so deeply wish to say.”  His eyes opened and he read her eyes.  “But you know that I will say it.  One day.  I promise you, I will.”  Tenderly he traced his thumb over her lips.  “I have moved far beyond feeling like for you, my dear, lovely Mary.”  He let go of her hand then taking a deep breath, placed it back on his arm.  “Your brother and sister have likely reached the end of their tolerance.  Come, we shall return to them.” 

He began to move and she stopped him.  De Bourgh looked at her and closed his eyes and sighed when she tentatively touched her fingertips to his lips.  “I . . . I look forward to the day when you speak your mind.”

“There you are.”  Darcy’s clear voice startled them.  Mary’s hand dropped and they both coloured violently.  Darcy looked at de Bourgh pointedly and turned to Mary.  “Shall we?”  He held out his arm to her.  Elizabeth smiled and walked back to stand by de Bourgh.  They watched Darcy leading Mary away and she slipped one hand onto the crook of his arm.

“Captain?”  He looked down to her.  “Patience.”

EASTER MORNING dawned bright and pleasant.  The occupants of Rosings chose to walk to the church for services, and upon their conclusion and the inevitable conversation and introductions with the neighbours, they began the return journey with the added company of the Reverend and Mrs. de Bourgh.

“I rather like this arrangement.”  Elizabeth observed as she strolled along with Darcy, her hands securely over his forearm.  He smiled and waited for more.  “The church being so near to the house.  Kympton is simply too far for us to walk.”

“I thought that no distance was too far for you, love.”  He smiled and laughed softly at her frown.  “Did you not propose a walk to Lambton?  You declared it a good stretch of the legs?”

“You know that I said that only to provoke you.”  She smiled and leaned on his shoulder, and looked around the town.  “This is such a pretty village.  It makes me homesick.”

“Me as well, but we are doomed to remain in London for a while.”  He nodded his chin to where de Bourgh and Mary walked arm in arm.  “That private conversation we allowed seems to have nudged them along.  We did let it go on a bit too long.”  He smiled to see her mixed feelings displayed so clearly.  “We were not the same as they.”

“I know, I had more experience.”  Seeing his frown, she caressed his hand.  “I was out when I was fifteen dear,  remember?”  He nodded but did not say more.  Elizabeth smiled at him and laced her fingers with his.  “Mary seems a little more confident, but she is still rather overwhelmed by him.  I know that she is dying to talk to me about it all, but that will likely wait until we return and the girls are in school again.”

“And I am conveniently at my club or buried in work.”  He chuckled and she laughed softly.  “I understand.  I expect to be cornered again by an agitated man demanding reasons for him waiting to declare his love.”

“Do you think that they will ever be part of the social scene?” 

“No.”  Darcy observed them.  “No more than we, I suspect, probably far less.  But it is not fair for Mary not to enjoy a taste of it, and it will do de Bourgh good to fuss over her.”

“I think that he will do that regardless of the location.”

“No doubt, but there is a difference in fussing before and after marriage.”  Darcy felt her gaze fix on him.  “There is love.  Before you are on such good behaviour, trying to impress, and so desperate for the slightest hint of intimacy.  It simply changes once the love is won and the secrets are revealed.”

“Has living with me become so mundane?”  Elizabeth demanded.

“Did I say that?”

“It certainly sounded that way, sir.”  She huffed.

“Sir?”  His eyes twinkled and he raised her hand to kiss.  “I love you.”

“Not fair.”  She whispered and leaned on him.  “I love you, too.  And you do not know all of my secrets.”  His laugh made her smile and his kiss assured her that he was not in the least weary.  Their pace slowed and they were gradually passed by the other members of their party.  “Is there a hurry to return?”

“What do you have in mind?”  He smiled down at her.  “It is Sunday.”

“Oh Will, I only wish to sit on a bench with you.”  She pinched his arm. “Look there is one just outside of the gate for Rosings.  Shall we try it?” 

Darcy looked at her closely and his brow creased.  He noticed that she was pale, and realized suddenly the way that she had been leaning on him, it was affectionate, but somehow it now compared to a person needing support.  Suspicion began to prick at his thoughts.  “Of course love, take a seat.”  He helped her down and they rested together. 

Georgiana looked back over her shoulder and stopped.  “They are sitting.” 

The rest of the party stopped to look.  “Is she ill again?”  Mary asked worriedly. 

“Again?”  De Bourgh asked.

“She felt poorly at Hunsford.”  Charlotte murmured without thinking and saw Mrs. De Bourgh shake her head.  Quickly, Charlotte explained.  “Bad cake, we thought.”