Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (64 page)

“Miss Darcy!”  Stewart stood and bowed.  “I cannot believe how changed you are!  Your brother tells me you are returning to school; surely you will be out next spring?”

“Oh, no, not for another two or three years, sir.”  Georgiana looked at Darcy with wide eyes.  “I am not in a hurry, I think.”

“Whenever you are ready, dear.”  Darcy smiled reassuringly. 

“Well, I will be in town for another few days; I will stop in again and greet your good wife, and perhaps share a story or two.”  He held out his hand and shook Darcy’s slowly presented one.  “Good luck with your speculation.”  Seeing Darcy’s mouth lift in a smile he turned to Georgiana.  “Good day, Miss Darcy.”

She curtseyed and smiled.  “May I show you to the door, sir?” 

“I would appreciate that, thank you.”  He glanced back at Darcy and nearly burst out in laughter to see how proud he was of his sister, then winking at him, followed her to the door.

“Mr. Stewart is such a nice man.”  Georgiana said upon her return.  “Brother, may I speak to you?” 

“Certainly.”  Darcy smiled and waved her to a chair, “Please sit down.  What do you need, dear?”  Georgiana took her seat and was about to speak when she glanced up at their parents’ portrait.  Darcy followed her gaze and took in her expression.  “Do you remember Father, or has he faded from your mind?”

“He is fading.”  She whispered.  “I only seem to carry impressions now.  He smelled of peppermint and musk.  Rather an odd combination, now that I think about it.”  She smiled a little.

“Not so odd.  I suppose that I smell of peppermint, too.  I chew the leaves just as he did.”  Darcy glanced up and studied their father.  “I remember his voice most of all.”

“That is easy, it is yours.” 

“Really?”  His brow creased.  “I thought his voice was so deep.”

“You are hardly a soprano, Fitzwilliam.”  Georgiana giggled. 

He chuckled.  “I suppose not.  I guess that what I hear is different from what you might.  I miss his advice, and his stern strength.  I cannot seem to quite achieve that.”

“I am afraid that I have to disagree again, but you are far happier than he was, I think that I recognize the difference between his smile and yours.”  She tilted her head and looked over the portrait closely.  “That smile he has there?  I do not think I ever saw one so bright.  It is almost as if he wore a false mask of joviality for us.”

“That is very possible.  Life was much different for him when you were old enough to notice things.”  Turning away from the portrait, he rested his elbows on the desk and folded his hands.  “Now, what brings you here, all aflutter?”

“I am
not
fluttering.”  Georgiana said defensively.

“You are not at ease, either.”  He spoke softly, “Are you concerned about school?  Returning without Catherine?”

“I think that I will have an easier time at school than Kitty will with Mrs. Bennet.”   

“I think you are correct.”  Smiling, he waited and did not press for more.

Seeing that he was leaving the direction of the conversation to her, Georgiana screwed up her courage.  “Fitzwilliam . . . you fell in love with Elizabeth when she was my age.”  Seeing his smile slipping, she spoke quickly.  “I am not saying that I am in love with someone or that someone is in love with me.”

“It is a good thing because neither of you would be happy with my response!”  He growled.

“But
you
. . .”

“I did not speak to her for two years, when she was about Catherine’s age; and even then she was so very young.”  Darcy reminded her gently.  “She was so different then.  So vulnerable . . . we were both so different.”  He shook his head to free himself from the path of speculation that his mind wanted to take and focussed on his sister.  “What is your question, dear?”

“Am I as mature and strong as Elizabeth was when you saw her the first time?”

“I had no idea if she was mature or strong.”  He laughed softly.  “You were there, Georgiana.  You saw nearly the extent of our first moments.  Now, tell me where do these questions tend?  It is not about Elizabeth, and comparing yourself to her is impossible because you are two different people.  What do you really want to know?”

“I am not sure if I should return to school.”  She blurted and looked down to her twisting hands. 

He considered her thoughtfully and finally broke the silence.  “Why?”

“I am not sure.” 

“Of course you are.  You must have been considering coming to me for some time.  You waited for a moment when Elizabeth and Catherine were out of the house.  At breakfast when you announced that you were staying behind from the trip to the modiste; Elizabeth looked to see if you seemed ill.”  Georgiana smiled a little.  “Come dear, you have my undivided attention; it is just the two of us.  What is wrong?”

“It is just . . . it is just that I am going to be here all alone.”  She looked up at him.  “You will be gone next week, Matlock House is empty, and even Richard is gone.  I have nobody here.” 

“I see.  It is not school that worries you, but rather not having your loved ones near. And you are worried if you are mature enough to be on your own and compare yourself to the strongest woman you know.”  Darcy nodded and spoke seriously.  “You know that the Gardiners are here for you?  They will gladly come to your aid, and I have given Mr. Gardiner the authority to act on your behalf should it be needed.  You know that you can come back to this house and Mrs. Mercer will look after you.  And Uncle Henry will be returning before Christmas just so that you can spend the holiday at Matlock House.  You are not really alone.  I have a feeling that even Catherine might be back in London by then.”

“She is trying to prove herself by going back to Longbourn.”  Georgiana said softly. 

“Is that so?” 

“It is sort-of like me, she will be alone with her parents for the first time, but she will have Mrs. Annesley, too.”

Darcy studied her as she looked at her hands again.  “I see.”  Hearing the rustle of his clothing, Georgiana lifted her head to see that he had placed several small items on his desk.  “I carry a few talismans with me daily.  This book of sonnets, this box containing Elizabeth and Rosalie’s curls, this ring I wear, holding Elizabeth’s hair, all of them are things that I keep to remind me of the people I love when they are absent, even if they are just in a different room.  And of course, there is my journal.”  He touched the book and smiled.  “It kept me company when I was alone, and now it is something I share with Elizabeth.”

Georgiana looked over the array.  “You do understand.”

“I do, very well.”  Carefully, he replaced the box into his waistcoat, and took the thin book and slipped it into his coat, then got to his feet.  “Come.”

“Where?” 

“Just come with me.”

Georgiana followed him out of the study and up the stairs, down a hallway and into the mistress’s chambers to the closet where Elizabeth’s jewels were hidden.  Opening the box, he looked over the collection of velvet bags and then with a slight smile he spotted the one he was after.   He untied the fine cord and into his palm spilled the sparkling sapphire butterfly.  They both stared at it until Darcy closed his palm and spoke.

“You say that Catherine is proving herself by returning to Longbourn alone.  You are going to do the same by attending school alone.  Shall I trust you with this symbol of our parents’ love?  Something for you to hold?”

She pressed her hands to her mouth.  “Oh Fitzwilliam!  Please do.” 

Darcy studied her and nodding, opened his palm and placed the necklace around her throat.  He kissed her cheek and turned her towards the mirror.  “I give this to you because you did not ask for it, and because you need it, and more importantly, you know why you need it.  You have learned the lesson of respect; you have learned the lesson of valuing the people who love you.”

“I will not disappoint you, Brother.”  Georgiana whispered and wiping her eyes; touched the jewels.  “Thank you.  I love you.”

“I love you, dear.”  He opened his arms and they hugged each other tightly.  After several minutes, she giggled and he looked down at her with a smile.  “What is it?”

“I was thinking that you cannot lay your cheek on top of my head like you do with Elizabeth.” 

“No.”  He chuckled and stood back.  “You are taller than she.  And as much as I hate to say this, Stewart was correct; you are so changed in your looks.  My little sister is growing up before my eyes.”  Downstairs they could hear the sound of running feet and the siblings looked at each other.  Darcy put the jewel box back in place, and handing her the velvet bag, led the way to the top of the stairs where they witnessed the servants receiving Elizabeth and Kitty.  “Success?”

Elizabeth looked up and grinned.  “What do you think?”

“I think that my pocketbook is considerably lighter than it was this morning.”  He laughed when she came up the stairs.

They kissed and she patted his coat. “Hmm, no not until you receive the bills.” 

Kitty followed her up and was beaming.  “Oh I wish you had come with us, Georgiana!  They had the prettiest blue . . . Oh what a lovely necklace!  I have not seen that, have I?  Where did you get that?” 

Elizabeth turned at the sound of Kitty’s exclamations and saw the butterfly.  She looked back at Darcy and raised her brow as he nodded.  Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully in return and heard Georgiana.  “This is very special, Kitty.  Fitzwilliam trusts me to care for it.  Come on, I will tell you all about the history.”  She caught Elizabeth watching her and smiled hesitantly.  It grew when Elizabeth returned it fully.  Grabbing Kitty’s hand, they disappeared. 

“Do you want to know why?”  Darcy said softly and enveloped her in his arms, resting his cheek on her head and smiling at the way she fit so perfectly to him.

“I cannot help but be curious.”  She rested her cheek on his chest. 

Darcy felt her weight settling into him and could sense her exhaustion from the busy day.  Rubbing her back, he whispered, “No, you cannot.”  He chuckled and she squeezed him.  “Well, it began with a visit from . . .”

“Papa!”  They looked up to the next landing and saw Rosalie plop down on her bottom and bump rapidly down the stairs.  “Papa!” 

“So much for conversation.”  Elizabeth smiled and watched Mrs. Robbins following her closely. 

“Hello little love.”  Darcy laughed when Rosalie ran up and hugged his leg fiercely.

“Papa, ook!” 

“Book?”  He looked at Elizabeth and she relinquished his waist.  Darcy picked up the baby and kissed her cheek.  “A book, little love?  You know the way to get my attention from Mama do you not?”

“Mama!”  Rosalie reached out to hug Elizabeth.

“At last I am visible.”  She gasped as her throat was attacked.  “No eating the book, now.” 

“No!”  Rosalie shook her head seriously.

“Pardon me, sir.”  Mrs. Robbins held out a small book.  “This is the one she wants.”

Darcy took it and immediately Rosalie had the gilt-covered book in her mouth.  “Thank you Mrs. Robbins, you may take some refreshment for now.”  He looked at the cover and tugged it away from Rosalie with a stern shake of the head, “Little Goody Two-Shoes.” 

“Ohhh, that is a good story.”  Elizabeth laughed.  “Will you read to both of us?”

“I am not that talented with narration.”  He said shyly.  “I sound rather wooden.”

“All she wants is to curl in your lap and listen to your voice.”  Elizabeth caressed his hair.  “Just like her mama, I love your voice.”  Darcy smiled and looked down, and she stood on her toes to kiss his chin. 

“ook!” 

“I am better with poetry.  It is lyrical.”

“ook, ook, ook!”

“I love to hear you sing, too.”  Elizabeth pursed her lips and he shook his head in defeat.  Rosalie grabbed the book and waved it in the air.  “Come along, your audience awaits!”

They walked down to their chambers where they removed their shoes and Darcy slipped off his coat.  The three of them climbed onto the bed.  Darcy sat up against the headboard with Rosalie in his lap, and Elizabeth leaned on his shoulder.  He kissed each of his girls’ heads and opening up the damp cover, began to read.   

“. . . They were both very ragged, and
Tommy
had two Shoes, but
Margery
had but one. They had nothing, poor Things, to support them but what they picked from the Hedges, or got from the poor People, and they lay every Night in a Barn . . . Our Relations and Friends seldom take Notice of us when we are poor; but as we grow rich they grow fond. And this will always be the Case, while People love Money better than Virtue . . . But such wicked Folks, who love nothing but Money, and are proud and despise the Poor, never come to any good in the End, as we shall see by and by.
¹⁰
” 

Darcy looked down to find Rosalie leaning back against his chest with her eyes closed, her body gently moving with his breathing.  He set down the book and cuddled her to him, then noticed Elizabeth seemed asleep as well.  “Insufferably proud.”  He said softly.  “I think that you are correct, love.  I would have been insufferably proud without you.  What else would I have been?  Would I have been worthy of that necklace?  Would I have come to a good end?”

Elizabeth opened her eyes.  “Will?” 

“Sleep dearest.”  Darcy wrapped his arm around Elizabeth’s waist, and rubbing his palm over the baby, rested his cheek on her head.  “Sleep.” 

“I am not so easily appeased Fitzwilliam, please tell me what is on your mind.”  She rested her hand over the one that supported Rosalie and caressed his ring.  “What worries you?  Something has been nagging at you for a few weeks.”

“Has it really?”  He sighed. “I can hide so little from you.”

“So please stop trying.” 

“Yes, love.”  Darcy smiled and kissed her hair.  “I have been thinking about our talk before we left for London.  You said that I would be insufferably proud if I came to Hertfordshire without meeting you when we did.”  His brow creased and he lifted his head to look at her seriously.  “What did you mean?”

“Has that bothered you so much?”  She reached up to smooth his hair.  “I am sorry, Will.”