Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (37 page)

Darcy studied her, and brushed a curl of hair from her brow.  “Do not ever change, love.  You make me appreciate all that we have.” 

“You are very reflective today.  You were so quiet in the carriage, or was it just that you were uncomfortable?”  They stood at the top of the grandstands, looking down at their family seated below and waiting for the presentation of the winning horse.  “What is on your mind, I wonder?  Is it your father’s journals?  Is it about the mystery?”  She looked up to silently question him.

Shaking his head he smiled.  “You know me too well, but this is not about the mystery.  I read a passage about the first time he brought me here.  He was so excited to see how I would react.”

“And?” 

“I suppose that I was subdued.  I remember that I loved it, I loved every moment of it, but I could not express it.  I could not verbally appreciate the little gestures that he made.”  He smiled sadly.  “He wondered what my brothers would have done here.”

“Oh Will.”

“No, no.  I am reading the private thoughts of a man who had lost much.  Unlike us, he had never shared his journals with anyone, not even with Mother.”  He shrugged.  “It is a reasonable thing to think about my brothers.  He knew them as lively boys and could not help but expect them to grow to be energetic young men.  I guess he knew that I was given to withdrawing and was hoping to coax me out of my self-imposed exile.  He said that he knew I enjoyed the races when I smiled a little.  I see more and more why he was so easily fooled by Wickham.” 

“Does that help you?”

“I suppose that it makes things clearer, but it also makes me wonder if I could have stopped his favour simply by smiling.”

“No, there was more behind that relationship besides you.  There were promises made to a loyal servant, and like you, your father was a man of his word.”

Darcy nodded thoughtfully and squeezed her hand.  “Of course, you are correct, thank you for reminding me.  I am so glad that you prod me to talk.”

They watched as a blanket of flowers was laid over the horse and then waved at Lucas who had turned to search for them.  The family gathered their things and began to join the slowly moving crowd towards the exit.  Watching their progress, he continued, “Father wrote of imagining his little imps sitting on his shoulders, watching the race with us and cheering, and wishing that I could be so free, wondering how he could help me.  That is when he thought of my grand tour and somehow making it possible, despite the war.  He thought that I needed to get away.  Although it was a wonderful experience, it was not what would bring me relief.  I needed you for that.”  Smiling, he kissed her hand.  “You make me free.  Why I did not go after you . . .”

“Because it was not time yet.”  Elizabeth smiled and squeezed his arm.  “You needed to know Bingley.” 

“Bingley.”  Darcy looked over the crowd.  “I wonder how he is doing.”

“DAMN IT, ROBINSON, just tell us!”  Hurst demanded.  “You have been avoiding our questions for weeks; well what is it going to be?  Are you going to risk your life; and our sister’s life by taking this ridiculous journey into a war?”

“Obviously you will not support my plans.”

“I would support them if I knew what they were!”  Hurst declared and walking over to a chair, sat down.  “You talk to him Bingley!”

“I have tried.”  He rubbed his face with one hand.  “Very well then, I will put forth the speculation we have entertained and you tell me if I am full of nonsense or not.  First, you are worried for your income.”

“Yes.”  Robinson sighed and finally took a seat.  “Of course.”

“You are being cheated somehow by your representatives?”

“Again, I believe so.  It is difficult to accept that an entire shipload of oranges went rotten.  Somewhere, my produce landed and somewhere, it was sold.”

Bingley glanced at Hurst, who nodded at him to go forward.  “All right.  What will you being on the spot do?  It sounds as if this is a problem with the shipping, not the grower.”

“I did not know that when I first brought up the plan, that is news that I have only recently learned.”

“Then you can address it from here?”  Hurst offered, and saw Robinson look up at him.  “Or is it something else.  Is it Caroline?”

Seeing his jaw set, Bingley spoke up.  “She is my sister, but I know what she is like.  You will not be insulting me by speaking the truth.  We cannot help you if you do not.”

“Very well.”  He sighed.  “You know my history, orphaned and sent to live with my only living relatives when I was eight.  I was already working then, had been since I was four, started as a chimney sweep, climbing up the pipes while they poked sharp sticks at me to keep going.  Lord, it was hell, but it brought home some money, enough to keep me and help with the family.  I grew, so I moved on to other work, anything to keep fed.  I spent time picking the banks of the Thames, and sifting through the ashes of the quality looking for coins they seemed to toss into the fire, and chased vermin.  I gathered rags, even took a turn emptying cesspits in basements.”  Hurst and Bingley shuddered.  “Yes, you can see why a nice clean product like oranges was appealing to me.  I swore, I swore that when I married, my children would not know hunger or neglect.  Now I have a son.  And I listen to him cry for his mother!”  Standing up, he paced across the room.  “And she does nothing for him, telling the staff that he would be spoiled if he was fed too much or cared for.  What do I know of babies?  She is a woman, she should know!  I trusted her.”

“Why didn’t you tell her you didn’t like what she was doing?”

“I did, and she said that she was behaving as women of the first circles did, and since that was our ambition, to be in that society, she had no choice . . .”

“You believed her?”  Hurst snorted.  “She perceives a great many things about the first circles, does she not?  How many are correct?  You do not know the Darcys, but I assure you, their care of their child is the furthest thing from neglect.  I think that we are agreed on their position?”

“Obviously I should have spoken to someone, you, anyone.”  He sank back down in his chair.  “I do not want that woman raising my child.  I got along fine with her until Wallace was born.  We both were ambitious, we both had our vices, but we got along, well matched, I thought.  But now that there is this child . . .why am I more motherly than she?”

“Surely travelling into a war is not the best answer.” 

“It would keep her away for months.” He said dully.  “And you and Louisa could raise him.”

“While we would be delighted to be guardians of our nephew, you are his father and he should know who you are.  We could take him for summers, holidays, long visits while you travel and offset whatever the damage is you fear from Caroline’s neglect.”   Hurst offered.  “There must be something more workable than this desperate act, this excuse to remove a child from his parents.”  Robinson said nothing and Hurst looked to Bingley.

“You could die, Robinson.”  Bingley said softly.  “What good would that do Wallace?”

“I know the risks.”   He looked up.  “And I would draw up the papers before we left that would give him to you, Hurst.  Some women should not be mothers.  Unfortunately, I didn’t know that Caroline would be one of them.  She probably didn’t know either until she became one.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “I am hardly the example of an ideal father.  I am afraid to touch him; I am unable to express affection to him.  I do not want to get attached, do you understand?  I was attached to my family and they all died.  I . . . I just want my boy to be safe.  I don’t know what I can do.  You and Louisa yearn for a child, take mine, raise him, care for him like I and Caroline cannot.”

“Good Lord.”  Bingley looked at Hurst.  “Surely if we just spoke to Caroline, if Louisa did . . .”

“When has speaking to Caroline ever been effective?  She does not listen.  The only person who has ever got through her thick skull was Mrs. Darcy when she cut her to ribbons with a few well-chosen words.”

“Perhaps she can speak to her?”  Robinson asked.

“Only the promise of their endorsement and entrance to their homes would move Caroline from the dislike she harbours for Mrs. Darcy.”  Bingley said honestly. 

Hurst’s impatience showed.  “Frankly Robinson, she vowed to obey you, you have the law on your side.  You can do anything short of killing her, not that I advocate such behaviour.  Tell your servants what you want and expect, tell your wife the same.  You grew up on your own, you rose from the streets as a pauper and through very hard work, you went from selling oranges on a corner to owning groves in Spain.  Surely you can manage Caroline?” 

“I have no example of marriage.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “And I am not violent.”

“But you are a man of business; look at your son as an investment in the future.  He must be nurtured to make him a viable partner for you one day.”  Bingley urged.  “I know enough of that from my father.”

“Go to Ramsgate, take the holiday you had planned before, perhaps there you both might be relaxed enough to speak honestly about this.  Take as long as you wish.  We will take Wallace in here.”  Hurst offered.  “Louisa will be thrilled, I promise you.  Then if you are still not assured, take her home to the estate, and . . .if you must, leave her there to live.”

“Exile?”  He said softly.  “Has she done anything to deserve that?”  The men had no answer.

Bingley broke the silence.  “Have you found a ship to take you to Spain?”

“Yes, it sails in a month.  There are no cabins.”  He grimaced.  “It would be a hellish trip with Caroline.”

“Ramsgate sounds better and better.”  Bingley said honestly.  “For your son’s sake, try to preserve your life.”

“And Caroline?”

“You are the man, Robinson.  Lay down the law in your household.”

“Love your child or else.”  He shook his head.  “That will go over very well.  I will have to pay a maid to watch that Caroline does not pay him too much attention.”

“Ramsgate, Robinson.  Just go.”  Bingley urged.  “We will look after Wallace.”

“Very well.”  He sighed.  “Very well.  But I will have my solicitor draw up the papers giving you custody, so that will be ready should we change our minds.”

Hurst nodded.  “Whatever will put yours at ease.  We will be glad to comply.” 

“TELL ME, where did you learn your skills?”  Layton asked de Bourgh as they sipped their drinks and looked at the pair of crossed sabres mounted in Darcy’s study. 

“Oh, we did have training.”  He smiled.  “And there is plenty of time to be occupied when you are travelling from one port to another, so the
gentlemen
officers took me in hand.”

“You say that with a bit of a chip on your shoulder, Son.”  Lord Matlock smiled and saw de Bourgh’s shrug.  “I know that you earned your place instead of buying it, much as Richard did,”  He gestured across the room to his son, “but keep in mind that
you
have been a gentleman since you became a captain, long before you ever became a gentleman by Rosings.”

“I know, I know, I suppose that I endured quite a lot on the way up.  I am doing my best, sir.  I have come to value this extraordinary family I have entered since becoming a landed gentleman, I deeply appreciate the friendship and assistance that all of these men have offered to me . . .”

“However?”

“However . . . I cannot wait to go home.”  He sighed.  “I just have no taste for this society life.  I spent far too much time in cramped quarters with men, and being in this teeming city just reminds me that I spent years dreaming of being free of such constraints.”

“Although I can understand some of what you say, it sounds to me that you are just chafing at the wait for your wedding day.”  Lucas laughed.

“That is a good bit of it, I admit.”  He rubbed his face. “It seems that we have had so little time together, alone that is.  I try to make the most of those few seconds . . .”

“In pleasurable ways.”  Lord Matlock grinned at his discomfort and looked over to where Darcy had joined Fitzwilliam.  He lowered his voice.  “I spoke to Darcy weeks ago.  You know that he has given you quite liberal amounts of time alone with her, far more than the Gardiners ever afforded him and Elizabeth.  To your mind it is seconds, to him, it is an exceptional favour.”

“Oh.”  De Bourgh’s brow creased.  “Really?”

“You Son; are very impatient to bring your bride home.”

“I have no home until Mary is there with me.”  De Bourgh said seriously.  “This wait is interminable!”

“Ah you do not dislike London; you dislike London with Mary in Darcy’s home.”  Layton laughed as he watched him fidget.  “Relax, in two nights you will be married.”

“It is not soon enough.” 

“Do not scare the poor girl away with your eagerness.”  Lucas said seriously.  “Truly de Bourgh, rein it in.”

“I know, what do you think I am?”  He glared at him. 

Lord Matlock’s hand rested on his shoulder.  “And after the wedding night, the two of you will have much to talk about.  Every moment need not be spent trying to steal a kiss.”  De Bourgh sighed.  “I know, once tasted it is difficult to hold back.” 

“Another mistake.”  At last de Bourgh smiled and shook his head.  “I am hopeless.  Do all of the men of this family laugh at me?”

“Yes.”  Fitzwilliam leaned against a bookshelf.  “We have all been in your boots and we all are enjoying watching you suffer.”  He leaned forward.  “And now shall we give you some more advice on being a husband?”

“What do you mean?  Please, have you not all bent my ear enough over the past weeks?”  He looked at Darcy who had come to stand nearby.  “I have received
your
advice, which is very helpful, thank you.”

“Mary is similar to how Elizabeth once was.”  He said softly.  “Take care of her.”

“I will.”  De Bourgh said just as quietly.  “I have heard you, Darcy, I have.”  The mood of the room shifted and the other men looked around at each other uncomfortably. 

“Someone say something before I begin to weep.”  Fitzwilliam growled.

“Never ever tell her she looks anything but lovely.”  Lord Matlock quickly spoke.