Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (19 page)

“If it would not draw attention, I would kiss you right now.”  Lucas squeezed her hand and placed it on his arm.  “But one other joy of this night is to know that it will end in privacy.  I have thanked Darcy too many times to count.  I swear; I am beginning to resemble Collins in my effusions!”

“Oh please, no!”  Jane begged, and looked down to his hand resting over hers.  “We both grew up in houses full of people.”

“Yes, but I did not anticipate how difficult it would be to try and conduct a marriage in one.”  Lucas shrugged.  “But for however long that the Darcys will tolerate us, I intend to take advantage.  Agreed?”

“Yes.”  Jane nodded. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Lucas, good evening!”  Bingley walked up and bowed.  “You both look very pleased with the ball.”

“We are, and how do you find it?”  Lucas said a little stiffly. 

Bingley smiled and looked around.  “Very comfortable.” 

“We were just saying the same, why do you feel so?”  Jane asked him curiously. 

“I feel as if I at last belong here.”  He turned to face them.  “The first time I attended this particular ball, I felt like a fish out of water, as did Mrs. Darcy, we remarked upon it.  But now, I know many of these people, I have been accepted as a friend of the family, I am now part of this society.  I feel good.”  His head tilted at Jane.  “I wonder if you feel the same?  You once remarked that you did not wish to live in this world.”

“I still do not.”

“She is happy at home, Bingley.”  Lucas said with a piecing glare.

“Relax, Lucas.”  Bingley laughed.  “I am simply talking to a friend.”  He bowed and walked away.

“You are jealous.”  Jane said softly.  “Please do not be.  Mr. Bingley is a very good man.”

“He might have married you.”  Lucas looked at her.  “What torture that would have been.”

“For him?”  Jane smiled when he sighed.  “I married you.”

“And you are happy.”

“Yes, Robert.”  She assured him. 

“Mrs. Lucas, Mr. Lucas, how good to see you.”  Harwick bowed.

“Not another one!”  Lucas cried.

“Pardon?”  Harwick startled.  “Are you well, sir?”

“Yes, he is.”  Jane looked at her husband pointedly.

Lucas shook his head.  “Yes, I am, forgive me, sir.  Is your wife well?”

“Quite, she is off with some friends.”  He smiled to a corner of the crowded room.  “We only come to town for brief visits, so she is catching up with everyone.  This is my concession to her, a month or two of dancing.”

“And her concession to you?”  Lucas asked curiously.

“Ah, marrying me.”  Harwick laughed.  “I hope that you excuse my joke, Mrs. Lucas.”

“I think that water is under the bridge, sir.”  Jane looked to Lucas who smiled apologetically.  “We each made the proper choices.  Tell us of your son?”

“Stewart.”  Harwick beamed.  “My boy is strapping, I can see him proudly riding over the estate one day.”

Lucas at last relaxed.  “I am happy for your success.  And your daughters?”

“Beautiful.”  He smiled.  “The image of their mother, just as my son is the image of his.”  He noted Laura looking his way and bowed.  “Excuse me; I am receiving a silent message begging for rescue.” 

Watching him wend his way through the milling crowd, they saw Harwick arrive by his wife’s side, his hand lay gently on her back, and her posture, so stiff a moment earlier, relaxed with his touch.  “Who is she talking to?”  Lucas looked.  “Do you know?”

Jane lifted her chin and watched.  “Oh.”  She laughed.  “Lady Moreland.”

“Her mother?”  Lucas laughed.  “I suppose that all mothers can be trying at times.”

“Where have you been?”  Lady Matlock kissed Audrey’s cheek and looked at her closely.  “Are you well?”

“Yes, Mama.”  Audrey sighed, having just undergone the same interrogation by her two sisters.  “Please relax.”

“Should you be on your feet?”

“Mama, please.  Robert wants to dance with me, and I will not disappoint him.  I have enough sense to stop if I must.”  Her hand lightly passed over the slight bulge in her waist.  “I have faith that we are past the danger point now.” 

“I suppose that you cannot live in constant fear.”  Lady Matlock patted her cheek and smiled, then taking her daughter’s arm she looped them together.  “Now, you are an expert, look at Elizabeth.  What do you think?” 

“Think?”  Audrey smiled and looked over to Elizabeth standing with Darcy and surrounded by people.  “She is glowing, she is confident and smiling . . . Poor Fitzwilliam looks like he wants to take her hand and disappear, but that is nothing new.”  Her head tilted as she watched them closely.  “She is different.”

“I thought so.”  Lady Matlock said with a smug smile.  “A little wan?”

“A bit, tired maybe, I think that her lean into Darcy is not just for affection.”  Mother and daughter exchanged glances and pursed identical lips.  “I wonder if he knows.”

Lady Matlock nodded.  “I have been watching him, the way he looks at her . . . he knows.”

“Oh he always looks like a besotted puppy.”

“Who is a besotted puppy?”  Singleton asked and leaned over Audrey’s shoulder.  “Oh, Darcy.  Nothing new there.”  He chuckled.  “Layton was just telling me that we are all taking turns looking after Mary.  Darcy and Elizabeth have been gone for too long to be able to escape the concerted attention of your guests, Lady Helen.”

“I know; I feel sorry for them.”  Lady Matlock sighed.  “But Mary is in good hands.”  They looked to the dance floor where Mary, smiling shyly, was dancing with a handsome young man.  “All of the friends are being enlisted tonight.”

“Why is that?”  Singleton took Audrey’s arm and watched.  “Does she truly require such protection?  Should she not be meeting many eligible men tonight?  She seems happy with that one.”  Seeing the two women looking at him and rolling their eyes, he stiffened.  “What?”

“Peter.”  Lady Matlock pointed her fan at de Bourgh.

“Oh, Layton did not mention that!”  Singleton laughed.  “Is he lost?”

“He has not danced with anyone since his first with Mary.”  Lady Matlock said disapprovingly.  “I must do something about that.”

“Be kind, Mama, if his heart is as fragile as Richard’s . . .”

“I know, dear.  These military men are experts at burying their feelings.”  She patted her arm.

“Well, I intend to dance with my beautiful wife.”  Singleton kissed Audrey’s hand.  “Come, dear!”

“Come.”  Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and led her away from the ballroom, down a hallway, past the supper and card rooms and towards a familiar door. 

“Fitzwilliam!”  She cried and laughed as he pulled her along determinedly. 

“Hush.”  He looked back at her and smiled, then nodding at a few curious party goers, opened the door that led to the garden and closed it firmly.  Glancing around quickly, he drew his wife into his arms and kissed her.  “I had to bring you here, I had to.”

“You silly man.”  Elizabeth kissed his chin.  “What are you about?  We could come here anytime!”

“No.”  His head wagged.  “Not like this, not during a ball, with the sound of the music and the people just beyond the door, no danger of being caught . . .”

“We are married, now.”  She reminded him and his eyes twinkled.  “What are you thinking?”

“That we are married now.”  Darcy’s hands ran up and down her back, coming to a rest on her bottom.  “The simple stolen liberties of the past were thrilling and frustrating, but are nothing to what we may enjoy now.” 

“Fitzwilliam Darcy!”  Elizabeth gasped, then sighed when his smooth cheek touched hers, and his lips brushed her throat.  “ohhhh, you smell so very nice.”  He laughed softly. “And you feel so very nice.”  She sank into his embrace and rested against his chest, closing her eyes and listening to his steadily beating heart.  Darcy’s hold changed from one expressing desire for passion, to one communicating care and affection, his eyes closed and he rested his cheek on her head while they swayed together to the faint sound of the music.  Somewhere a door opened, and the sounds of the ball spilled out into the crisp night air.

“It was warm in there.”  He said softly, stroking his hands over her and kissing her forehead.  “Too many people.  Too many people wanting our attention.”

“Yes, I was feeling it.  I was pleased with how you tolerated them.”

“It would have been impossible without you standing with me.”  Darcy murmured against the diamonds sprinkled throughout her hair.

“It is a necessary duty, how many people expressed concern for our health?” 

“I know.”  His lips found her ear.  “You, my love, need to eat.”

“What does eating have to do with warmth and popularity?”

“You are faint, love.”  He said quietly.  “You know that you cannot fool me, no matter how much you laugh and smile.  Your teases are there but they lack something.” 

Elizabeth sighed as he brushed his lips down her throat.  “What do they lack?”

“You.”  He nibbled along the chain around her throat and down to kiss the simple pendant that just rested upon her breasts.  “You chose to wear Richard tonight, of all the magnificent jewels you own, you chose this.”  Looking up to her, he smiled.  “Why?”

“Because I wore this the night that you proposed to me.  Here.  I hoped we would come here.”  She smiled softly at him and gladly fell into the touch of his insistent lips, and then tasted his caressing tongue.  “Will . . .”

“I love you.”  Darcy’s fingers touched the wisps of hair around her face, then stroked down the three long curls that draped over her shoulder.  “I love you dearly.”

“I love you.”

He cupped her face in his palm and looked worriedly into her eyes.  “Then come and eat something with me.”  She looked at him silently and a smile lifted his lips.  “I have my spies.”

“I have no doubt.”

“You are pale, dear.”

“A symptom of carrying our child.”

“Lizzy, if you would just nibble on something . . .”

“Besides you?”

“Lizzy . . .” He chastised her gently. “Please humour me.  It will be hard enough to survive the next seven months for me with my active imagination.”

“I am not hungry.”

“Do not risk your health, Lizzy.”  He said sternly and placed a hand over her slight waist.  “It will do neither of you good.  I insist.”

“Is this why you brought me here?”   She demanded. “To . . .”

“Love you?”

“Not fair, sir.”  She sighed and sank back into his embrace.

“Sir?”  He smiled with her familiar signal of agreement to compromise, closed his eyes, and rested his cheek back on her hair.

“Will?” 

“Hmmm?”

“Must you always win?”  Darcy started to chuckle then let go to smile down at her, seeing her eyes sparkling in the bright moonlight. 

“I rather like it when I lose . . .” He placed his fingers over her mouth.  “When your well-being is not involved.”  Elizabeth kissed his fingers and he removed them to kiss her lips.  “Come love, to the supper room.  There is bound to be something there that will agree with you.”

“ahhhhhh, there they are.”  Richard smiled when Darcy and Elizabeth appeared and strolled arm-in-arm down the hallway.  “It looks like he succeeded.”

“In what?”  Evangeline craned her neck and looked up to him.  “Did I miss something?”

“Yes, my dear, you did.  You were talking to Elizabeth; did you notice that she was not herself?” 

“Obviously you did.” 

“Hmm.  I think that I noticed that Darcy was not himself.”  He shrugged.  “His duty was to his sister, his attention was demanded by his acquaintances, but his eyes were darting back to his wife, his wife who was not dancing, and who was leaning on him.”  His brow rose.

“Ohhhhh.”  Evangeline smiled.  “An heir is forming?”

“Perhaps.”  He shrugged.  “In any case, Darcy put all of us on the duty.”

“Poor Mary.  What is wrong with that ridiculous captain?”  Richard snorted and she waved at de Bourgh, glaring at yet another young man.  “What does he wait for?”

“As I recall, I waited for you to tell me it was time to propose.” 

“Enough, Richard!”  She laughed and pushed at his chest with her palm.  “I am sorry; I beg your forgiveness for forcing you to wait while I thought.”

“What could you possibly have to think about?”  He grinned and spread his arms.  “Am I not wonderful?”

“Wonderful.” 

“And handsome.”

“Enough, Richard.” 

Chuckling, he looped her hand over his arm.  “We should give a ball.”

“Oh, please.”

“Really, Eva!  It might buy me some favour with the higher-ups.  Invite some of the men, their wives . . .”

“A ball?”  She sighed.  “A dinner.  I can tolerate a dinner.”

“Oh no, a dinner is all nodding, eating, and ceremony.  A ball and you are free to mingle.  I do not relish listening to the screeching of uneducated ladies trying to entertain.”

“Richard!  The officers are hardly married to . . .” She stopped when she saw one brow rise.  “Well, not
all
of the officers . . .”

“umhmm.”  He grinned and looked around the room.  “A little ball?  At least a dinner with dancing?”

“I will think about it.”  Evangeline smiled at her husband standing straight and proud, surveying the crowd with his unfailingly sharp gaze.  “What are you thinking as you stand there being handsome?”

“Ahhh, you admit it.”  He shot her a look, and went back to his occupation.  “I am watching de Bourgh.  His bearing is stiffer than Darcy’s.”

“Nobody’s bearing is stiffer than your cousin.” She stood up on her toes.  “I cannot see a thing!”

“Shall I perch you on my shoulder?”  He offered, and smiled at her glance.  “You are as light as our daughter.”

“My weight is not what concerned me.  What do you see of Peter?”

“He is refusing to ask any ladies to dance, and yet they keep presenting themselves with their mothers, hovering about him with hopeful, calculating, yet insipid smiles.”  Shaking his head he spoke knowingly.  “He is doing himself no favours in refusing.  He will have a difficult reputation.”

“I doubt that he cares.” 

“Probably not.”  Fitzwilliam’s eyes lit up.  “Ahhhh, Mother’s got him.  Now he’ll dance.”

“Poor man.”  Evangeline sighed.