Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (42 page)

“Why?”  Elizabeth laughed and led the way back out to the hallway in time to see her father knocking on the study door.  She sighed and thought of Darcy’s headache.  “It is not so very bad.  But I am sure that you will be very good wherever you live one day.”

“I hope so.”  She saw the study door open and Conrad exit.  “I suppose that Mr. Darcy will not get his work done as long as we are here.  It is good that we are leaving after breakfast.”

“I will be sorry to see you go, Lydia.”  Elizabeth smiled to see her surprise.  “Now, come and help me.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Bennet?”  Darcy settled back behind his desk and moved his papers aside.

“I am sorry to interrupt you.”  He watched the piles of papers being carefully aligned.  “I just had an interesting conversation with my wife.”

“Oh?” 

“Tell me of Mr. Bingley.”

“Bingley?”  Darcy startled.  “You know him.”

“Well apparently he is to marry Kitty.”

“Why does a dance mean a proposal?”  Darcy rubbed his temples.  “It was a kind favour to a girl he considers a sister.”

“I know that and you know that, but my wife . . .” Darcy sighed and Mr. Bennet’s eyes twinkled.  “So, shall I have the banns read?”   

“Mr. Bennet, Bingley is not about to marry any woman.  He likes one very much but . . .in any case, it is not Catherine.  I suppose that a talk is needed from my wife to my sisters.”  He glanced at the clock.  “Before breakfast.”

“I have already spoken to Mrs. Bennet about curbing her enthusiasm.  I believe she has sadly accepted my discouragement.”  Watching Darcy rub his head, he added softly, “I am sorry to add to your tension.  I thought it would bring a smile.  But I did speak to her.”  Darcy nodded.  “Just as you marry one off, there is always another.”

“Sir, while I appreciate the trust you have in me, and I have enjoyed caring for Mary, and now Catherine, I am
not
their parent and
you
are not deceased.”  His penetrating gaze bore into Mr. Bennet, who shifted uncomfortably.

“Your care has made my life very easy.”

The stare did not waver.  “I am glad to give Catherine this opportunity to come to Pemberley and observe Elizabeth, and be a friend to Georgiana, however . . .”

“Lydia is my charge, I agree.  Is she as unwelcome in your homes as my wife?”

“Do not attempt to make me feel guilty for my position regarding my homes, sir.  I am in this study this morning for a reason.” 

“No, I . . . That was not my intention.  I deeply enjoy the family you have.  The joy that fills this house is unfathomable to me.”  Mr. Bennet rose to his feet. “I will leave you to your peace.  Once again, Mr. Darcy, I feel that I have been addressed by my father when I have spoken with you.   Perhaps one day we will be on equal footing.”  He bowed.  “I will go and find Lizzy, no need for you to leave your work.”

“Mr. Bennet . . . Just so you know, it was not always so joyful in our family.  We made a great effort to change.”

“It is good to know that is possible.”  He smiled and held out his hand to shake.  “I am humbled.”

“SO YOU SURVIVED.”  Bingley raised his glass in a toast.  “Congratulations!”

“Quiet Bingley.”  Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose.  “As soon as the coach left, Elizabeth took one look and sent me here.”

“Why?  You look like you could use a darkened room.” 

“I would have preferred it, however the mistress of Pemberley suddenly found herself receiving calls from the ladies of our society who learned we had hosted a wedding breakfast for the mistress of Rosings Park yesterday, and worse, that they were not invited.  She thought that I could use some time with members of my own sex.  Jane and Lucas disappeared into the park.  I am spared the cackling of the hens.”  He chuckled and then held his glass to his forehead. 

“Does that help?” 

“I suppose opening my skull and immersing my brain in brandy might.  But then I would be hung over.”

“What happened?  This is more than the arrival of the ladies on your doorstep and the departure of your family!”  Bingley laughed and sat forward.  “Darcy!”

He opened one eye.  “Beware of Longbourn when you take Netherfield.  Mrs. Bennet is not so easily discouraged from her wishes, I think.”

“What wishes?  Oh . . . Miss Catherine?”  Bingley rolled his eyes.  “I like her, she is very sweet and very pretty, but as much as I dearly wish to be your brother, I . . . She is much too young.  I know myself well enough to realize that the woman in my future is one who is rather strong.”

“You wish to be controlled?”  Both eyes opened.

“No, no, I just wish . . .” He smiled at his hands. 

“Have you seen Miss Martin recently?”

“Yes.”  He continued his smiling.  “She visits with Louisa frequently, and I am always alerted to her appointment.  I always come to spend some time with the ladies and then leave them to their sewing and gossip.”

“You do not seek her out?  Despite your attraction?”

Shaking his head, he looked up at Darcy.  “No.  I do not lead her on, either.  She spoke of . . . a young man, a banker who her father knows through the business.  He has called on her.”  He bit his lip and looked away, raising his hand to play with the fabric of the wingback chair he occupied.  “I am sure that he is eminently suitable for her.”

“A banker.”  Darcy at last sat back and regarded his friend. “Very suitable.  And his attention does not bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me.”  Bingley snapped.  “It bothers me enough that I do not sleep. But you see, I . . . I have told her that I will not seriously look for . . .a wife, until I have taken the steps to fulfil my promise to Father, and that means taking on Netherfield.  I know that I have a reputation of being easily swayed by a pretty face and I am determined to be steadfast at last.  I am not rushing headlong only to run away again.  One thing at a time, experience the full Season, move into Netherfield, and
then
find a wife.  I am not courting anyone and she knows it, but I also . . . She knows that should a good opportunity arrive with a . . .pleasant gentleman, that I . . .” He looked to his hands dejectedly.

A small smile lifted Darcy’s lips.  “
You
said all of this?”

“Well, no, Louisa did.”  Bingley smiled a little and shrugged.  “Much better coming from a woman, I cannot speak so plainly.  I just do not want her to sit about waiting if someone far better comes along.  She knows of my interest, but she may do with it as she wishes.”

“And what happens at Netherfield?”

Bingley shrugged again.  “I suppose we will see.”

“My headache worsens.”  Darcy sighed.  “Bingley.  One of the . . . No, strike that, despite Elizabeth’s reassurance that everything in our romance happened as it should, my greatest regret will be not finding her when I could, not chasing after her when I saw her, consciously letting her go, and nearly losing her through my own stupidity.  Would your father have wanted you to . . .” He saw Bingley’s expression.  “Of course, your father would not have wanted Miss Martin at all, would he?”

“No, he would want a gentlewoman, not a tradesman’s daughter.”  Bingley sighed.  “And . . . Darcy I assure you, knowing that there is a man actively pursuing Miss Martin makes my heart twist.”

“I do not understand, but my thinking was just as ridiculous, and I thought I was following my father’s desire.  Did your father leave journals, by chance?”

“No.”  His brow creased.

“And Miss Simkins?”  Darcy prodded.  “You were struck by her, and you have seen her socially instead of in your brother’s home.  Presumably she does qualify in your father’s mind.”

“She is an exceptionally handsome woman.”  He looked off in the distance.  “She is modest, gentle, and very understanding.  She knows her place and excels in moving about her circle.  I have no doubt that it is through her efforts that her family will be restored to its previous position.  An angel.”  Darcy listened closely and started at the familiar adjective.  “I do feel that she has yet to display her genuine nature to me, and I know how carefully she watches herself in every interaction.” 

“An angel.  Miss Martin is
not
an angel, as I recall.”

“No.  She is not.”  Bingley smiled and held his friend’s gaze.  “And yes, I remember the distinction.”

Darcy spoke very quietly.  “I hope that you know what you are doing, Bingley.  It will be a very long time before you are in Netherfield.  You do not truly understand what heartache feels like, it feels like you are drowning and you will never know what it is to breathe again.” 

“There you are.”  Both men startled and looked up.  “Big doings over at Robinson’s.”  Hurst fell into a chair and waved over a servant carrying glasses of port.  “He laid down the law this morning.  Louisa was over there to calm and soothe.”

“What happened?”  Bingley sat forward. “They are travelling?”

“Not
they
.
  She.”

“Where?” 

“Off to the estate, in a hired coach.  A maid, a couple of his footmen and her baggage.  Exiled.”  He took a breath.  “And that is not the end of it.  Louisa did not come home empty handed.”

“Wallace?”  Bingley asked.

“He is to stay with us until Robinson gets his house in order.  It seems that he told Caroline what he expects of her as his wife and particularly as a mother.  He gave her a week to show change.  He instructed the staff on how he expected his son to be cared for, and yesterday learned that she had been making their lives a living hell below stairs in revenge.  Then he stopped by last night, when you were out Bingley, to talk to us about taking the boy.  Louisa told him Bingley’s story about Darcy and his cousins dancing with their daughters at the wedding breakfast.  That was it, as far as he was concerned.  First circles neglect their children?  Well, perhaps they do, but here were four prime examples of it not being so.”

Bingley and Darcy exchanged glances.  “What happened?” 

“He told her what he had discovered and she became hysterical.  There was a tremendous row.  I think every breakable object found a wall or floor.  He gave her a choice, time in an asylum or go to the estate.  The choice was obvious, she had none, and he sent her off an hour ago.  The nursemaid came to us, and he will find a governess before Wallace comes back home.”  He sighed.  “And he told Caroline that her every expense has to be approved by him.  The money for the household will be handled by his steward and the housekeeper.  She tried to bargain with him, asking for more funds for shopping and entertaining in exchange for good behaviour, and he cut her off.”

Bingley looked between Darcy and Hurst. “The estate is leased for the summer, is it not?” 

“Robinson was anticipating this move, it seems, and found the family another estate nearby to take for the rest of their summer holiday.”

“But her settlement, that is legally binding.”  Darcy listened carefully.  “She could sue.”

“Perhaps, but can you imagine a judge hearing his tale and supporting her?”

“A judge?” Stewart approached and nodded.  “Gentlemen.”

“Stewart.”  Darcy smiled and offered him his hand.  “Good to see you.  How is your wife?”

“Excellent.”  He smiled.  “And the lovely Mrs. Darcy?”

“Lovelier than ever.” 

“Ah, what I missed.”  Stewart winked at him and noticed that Darcy stared pointedly at Bingley.  “Legal problem?”

“Is a woman’s settlement cast in stone?  Can the husband control the funds?”

Stewart frowned and leaned on Darcy’s chair.  “I am no expert on the Chancery Court, but I would assume that if there is no separate estate, she is at his mercy.  I would have to look into it.”  Stewart grinned.  “Mrs. Darcy testing your patience?”

“Never.”  He smiled.  “Even if she did, I would find it most charming.”

“Lost, lost!”  Stewart laughed.  “You do know that people who display such incredible affection are often considered insane?  Watch yourself, Darcy!”  The other men laughed and Stewart folded his arms over his chest.  “Are you really heading home to Pemberley?  We were planning a little dinner next week.”

“I am sorry, we would enjoy the evening, but we need to go home.  Will you be visiting the Henleys?”

“Yes.”  He sighed.  “We will be sure to come and spend a great deal of time with our favourite neighbours.”  Hearing the clock chime he started.  “However, court calls.  I will write to you with our plans, Darcy.”  Stewart nodded to the others, “Bingley, sir.” 

Smiling after him, Darcy looked at Bingley who was far away in thought.  “Do you understand?”

CAROLINE STARED OUT the window of the slowly moving carriage as it carried her away from Bloomsbury and rolled into her dream neighbourhood of Mayfair.  “This is where I belong!”  She fumed.  “This is what I should have had, and that, that . . . country chit has managed to ruin it for me!  Was it not enough that she stole Mr. Darcy?  I should have had him!  Charles should have made sure of that!”  Glaring at the maid seated across from her and staring studiously at her hands she screamed, “SHE is not of the first circles!!  How can he believe that she is the example to follow!  I am married to a fool!”  The carriage turned onto Park Lane and crawled along as the myriad of tradesmen delivering their goods and the carriages of the wealthy blocked their progress.  It came to a stop and Caroline saw that they were nearly in front of Darcy House, and noticed several impeccably dressed women walking up to the entrance.  Impulsively she threw open the door.

“Mrs. Robinson!”  The maid cried. 

The coachman watched her dash across the street and towards the women, “What is she doing?”  He turned around to the stunned footmen sitting at the back.  “Well?  Go get her!”  Scrambling down, the two men looked at each other then headed for the imposing house while the coachman manoeuvred to the curb. 

Breathing heavily, Caroline arrived at the door.  The women turned to regard her.  “What on earth is wrong with you?”  Mrs. Kendall asked, looking her over carefully.

“Who is she?”  Lady Monroe demanded.

“From the look of her I would say nobody of consequence.”  Mrs. Smythe commented.