Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (102 page)

Georgiana was as nervous as I ever was in her position.  I saw the resemblance between us so strongly last night, more than I ever have before.  She was so very shy, so unlike who she is when safe in the embrace of her close family and friends, but so determined to do well.  Again and again I saw her touching the necklace that Father chose for her to receive that night.  I well remember that afternoon when he gave me the three boxes with the instructions for when each was to be presented.  Like the butterfly necklace she wore to her curtsey before the Queen lending her Mother’s strength, this gift of Father’s gave her his love on this most important day in her life.

Uncle Henry represented Father and led her in the first dance, and then surprised me, handing her to me to finish the set.  I think that we were both on the edge of tears the entire time, and I realize now that Uncle did me a great favour.  I doubt that I could have tolerated both dances.  From me, she split sets with all of us, from Richard and Stephen, to Peter and Robert, then Lucas, and dancing the last with Bingley.  By the time they finished, she was the Georgiana we know at home, relaxed, happy, glowing and confident.    She went on to dance with seemingly scores of young men, and although she declares she has no desire to marry anytime soon, some part of me knows that when she at last finds the man who has earned her heart, she will not hesitate to tell him, and he will be amongst the most fortunate men in the world.

Of course this evening was special for other reasons.  Bingley confided to me quietly that Abbey at last seems to be with child.  I pray that it is true, the hope and joy in his voice, and the way he smiled at her each time they looked at each other reminded me of myself when Elizabeth carried Rosa.  How wonderful that Bingley’s child and ours will be born nearly at the same time.   Hurst was standing nearby when we were talking and surprised the both of us when he pointed to Robinson, who was bowing and offering his hand to Lydia.  We had long suspected that he carried a tendre for her, perhaps now that she lives with the Gardiners, they might become friends.  Wallace certainly has taken to her playful ways.  I was so pleased to see Mary and Jane standing by Elizabeth’s side, almost like ladies-in-waiting, granting audiences to the queen by the countless women who sought her attention for one reason or another.  And of course Elizabeth handled each of them with ease, I marvel at her.  Catherine spent the evening making mental notes for sketches, she so clearly was drinking everything in.  She managed to dance a few sets and enjoy the attention she received, but I could tell that her heart was not interested in more from any man.  It seems that Mr. Evans has managed to make her blind to every other suitor.  He will be so relieved; he has waited so long for her.  I think that Mr. Bennet will be happy as well.  He will have two daughters in Derbyshire, and he will undoubtedly be visiting frequently.  I was happy that he asked Robert to move his family into Longbourn with him; Robert will manage it well until Collins takes over or Robert moves his family to Lucas Lodge.  With their growing family, the extra space will be needed soon.  In the year since Mrs. Bennet’s passing, it is incredible how much closer we have become to Mr. Bennet.  It reminds me of Caroline Bingley’s passing.  Surely I would never have considered Robinson to be a friend had she remained by his side, and who knows, perhaps he might one day be a brother. 

I have written too much, once again.  Elizabeth will be shaking her head over this entry.  I cannot wait to read her perspective of the night, the view from the ladies, and I cannot wait to see the family tomorrow, and hear Aunt Helen praise the mistress of Pemberley and Darcy House.  I could not have survived this night without you, my love.

Darcy looked up to the wall and wound the lover’s knot around his finger, feeling the familiar ribbons sliding over his skin, and gazed upon the countless sketches and portraits representing moments of their marriage.  So many dear faces smiled down at him.  Putting the knot carefully back into his journal, he dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief and sat up straight, inwardly cursing the whalebone in his waistcoat and the fashion for cinched waists.  He brushed off his trousers and closed his eyes, and listening to the sounds of the house, willed Elizabeth to finish dressing and come rescue him from his thoughts. 

“Ahem.”  He heard a soft voice.  A little smile appeared on his lips.  “Ahem.”  He opened his eyes only to draw in his breath at the sight of the woman before him.  “Lizzy . . .”

“No, Papa, it is me!  Did I fool you again?”  Rosalie laughed and bent down to kiss the dimple in his cheek.  “Do I truly look like Mama?”

“How many times have I mistaken you for her when you surprised me?”  He stood to hug her, enjoying the little joke they had shared for so long.  “Although, little love, it is true, you look so much alike now.  You are both so very beautiful.”      

“Oh Will.”  Elizabeth leaned on the doorway and smiled shyly at him.

“There is my love.”  He smiled and admired her from head to toe.  “Yes, you are beautiful.  And always will be.” 

 “Well I am certainly pleased to hear that!”  Elizabeth laughed and trying to hide her blushes from him, entered the sitting room to stand side by side with her daughter.  “You look lovely, dear.”

“Thank you, Mama.”  Rosalie swayed and the bell of her skirt moved with her.  “I do love this gown.  Although the sleeves are so puffy . . .”

“I would like to see them up over your shoulders.”  Darcy glared at the bare skin and Elizabeth laughed, and took off her shawl to expose her shoulders.  “Oh.”

“You cannot be a hypocrite.”  She rose up on her toes and kissed his nose, and handed him a box.

Darcy shrugged and smiled, then turned to Rosalie.  “This is for you.” 

“Oh.”  She bit her lip and looked from one parent to another.  “Pearls?” 

“How did you know?”  Elizabeth’s head tilted.

“Are they Grandmother Darcy’s?”

“A few of them.”  Darcy smiled and entwined his fingers with Elizabeth’s.  “We are holding on to the last ones.”

Rosalie opened the box.  Inside was a strand of pearls, interspersed with rubies.  A bouquet in the shape of three roses was at the centre, each containing one of the precious pearls.  “Ohhhh.”  She looked up and blinked back her tears.   “Oh Papa!” 

Smiling, he took the necklace out and carefully clasped it around her neck.  “I love you, Rosa.  I am so very proud of you.”  He kissed her cheek and looked to Elizabeth.  She squeezed his hand and standing in front of her daughter, she fixed the position of the roses and then took a box from a pocket in her gown, containing matching earrings.  When they were in place, she took Rosalie’s hands.  “I love you, sweetheart.  I was so happy the day that you were born; I so wanted a little girl to love.  And now we have to let you go.”

“No.”  Darcy instantly objected and claimed one of his daughter’s hands as if she were about to take flight.

“I agree!”  She sniffed.

“I am not sending you to the hedgerows!”  Elizabeth laughed at them and held both of their hands.  “I am just acknowledging that everything is new for you.  Who knows where life will take you now?” 

“Well that is not so very bad.”  Rosalie sniffed, and her voice cracked.  “I love you both so much!” 

A knock came to the door and hastily the three of them wiped their eyes and straightened.  A younger version of Darcy appeared, his soft deep voice belied his age.  “Father . . .”  Rosalie put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to begin his plea.  He stared at her menacingly and back to Darcy.  “Father, please may I attend the ball?  I am sixteen now; I should not be relegated to the nursery during parties anymore!”

“I thought that you liked playing in there.”  Rosalie teased.

“Quiet, Whoa.”  He growled. 

Following closely behind him a younger boy cried, “Oh, come on Ash!”  Michael’s voice cracked and instantly Rosalie started to giggle.  “You know that we would . . .”  He looked up to see his father’s intense interest.  “Um.”

“Would do what, precisely, Michael?”  Darcy’s brow rose and he clasped his hands behind his back.

“Father is angry with you!”  John whispered from his side.

“Papa?”  Thomas trailed behind and looked up at him worriedly.  “Are you angry?”

Darcy scanned over the faces of his children and let his eyes rest upon Elizabeth, who had remained beside Rosalie and was dwarfed by Asher.  They exchanged a silent conversation.  He bent and lifted his youngest son.  “No, I am not angry, but I am disappointed.”

Hearing disappointment expressed quietly from their father was as effective as a tongue lashing to the Darcy children, and instantly they all turned to look at him.  “Tonight is exceptionally important for your sister.  She is nervous and worried about an endless list of things.”  He looked at Rosalie and Elizabeth took her hand to squeeze.  “I know that she has been teasing a little more enthusiastically of late, but her mother and I knew that it was to cover up for how frightening this Season is for her, so we have overlooked it.”  He saw Rosalie blush, and turned back to the boys.  “You four have a responsibility to help her through this time.  Asher, I know that it is very difficult to no longer be a child but not yet a man; and that is why we gave you your own bedchamber upon your birthday last month.  However, I am relying on you to look after your brothers while the house is full of people tonight.  And I know that you and Rosalie are far too close to argue over such petty subjects as attending a ball that you are too young to enjoy.”

“I wanted to attend so that I could look after her, sir.”  Asher looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, Ash.”  Rosalie went over and hugged him.  “Thank you.  Papa will take care of me, and you know all our cousins and uncles will chase anyone unsuitable away!”

“I know.  But that is my job.  They have their own daughters to look after.”  He looked at his elder sister and Elizabeth tried valiantly to hold back the tears that flooded her eyes. 

Darcy cleared his throat.  “Son, I misunderstood your motivation for attending tonight.  Protecting your sister is very admirable and certainly reflects all that I have tried to teach you.  But the fact remains that I need you to look after your brothers.  Next year you will enter Cambridge and may begin attending the dinners we hold at home, and joining us for visits to the theatre, but there will be no balls until you are of age.  The rules are different for men.  Are we agreed?”

Asher stood straight and met Darcy’s eye.  “Yes, Father.  Forgive me for not speaking more clearly.”

“You come by that honestly, dear.”  Elizabeth touched his face and kissed his cheek, and winked at him.

Again Darcy cleared his throat but this time he saw a mischievous twinkle in his wife’s eye and worked hard to hide his own.  He turned to his middle children. 

“Michael and John, if I catch either of you sneaking downstairs, I will have you mucking out the stables every day for the remainder of the summer.”  He looked at them pointedly.

“Yes, sir.”

“What about me, Papa?”  Little Thomas whispered and hung onto his neck.

“You mind your nanny and Asher, and you will be fine.”  Darcy kissed his son’s cheek and gave him a hug.  Then setting him down, he looked at them all.  “Understood?”

“Yes, Father,” came the chorus.  “Very well then.  Rosalie,” He held out his hands and hugged her to him tightly, “You have disobeyed me terribly.”

“What did I do, Papa?”  She whispered.

“You grew up.”  He drew back and tried to smile.  “Far too fast.”  He swallowed hard and Rosalie turned to her mother for help.  Elizabeth took her place and wrapped her arms around Darcy’s waist.  Embracing her fiercely, he kissed her.  Around them their children exchanged knowing glances and laughter at their parents’ familiar behaviour, and it took Thomas, squirming his way between them, to break the lovers apart.  Darcy sighed and played with his son’s hair.

“Are we not allowed to kiss, Tom?”  Elizabeth knelt and hugged him.

“I wanted a kiss, too.” 

“You always do, especially when I kiss your papa.”  She kissed him and Darcy helped her to rise.  “Now then, you all heard your father.”

“Yes, Mother.”  The chorused; and each boy stopped to give Rosalie a kiss before filing out of the room. 

“Good luck, Rosa.”  Asher hugged her. 

“Thank you, Ash.”  She sniffed and whispered.  “I am so scared.”

“Don’t be,” he whispered back, “You are wonderful.  None of them deserve you.”  He kissed her cheek again and lifting Thomas up to perch on his hip, walked out the door.

Michael’s voice was heard, “I wager that the first waltz the man steps on her foot!”

“You are on!”  John cried.

“The Fitzwilliams have been a terrible influence.”  Elizabeth sighed when Darcy started to laugh.  “Perhaps Asher
should
come to the ball.”

“No dearest, his motives are admirable and make me proud, but I will not subject him to the torture of being the object of attention before he must.  It will come soon enough, and ultimately he will be happy to have been spared a little longer.  Besides, no debutante wants to be courted by a boy.”  He gently caressed her throat and the curls that lay against it as he spoke, wishing so much to kiss the silky skin beneath his fingers, but Rosalie by his side made him stop.  And sigh.  Again.  Elizabeth knew exactly what he was thinking and reached up to take his hand, and they settled for a tender kiss.

“Pardon me, sir.”  Porter, the butler, bowed.  “Lord Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Singleton await you and Miss Darcy in the drawing room.”  He turned to Elizabeth.  “The ladies wait for you in the parlour, madam.”

“Thank you, Porter.”  She smiled and kissed Rosalie.  “Now, this is just a dance, once you descend those stairs, I want you to have a wonderful time.  This is not like that miserable curtsey you had to do.  Keep your chin up, smile in the face of intimidation, if any of the matrons who are sizing you up for their sons say anything rude or too nosy, what do you do?”