Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (75 page)

Today all of the guests arrive, and then the cottage building will begin and our men will be very busy.  Therefore, as soon as I finish this passage, I am going to find my dear husband and demand a walk.  Our much enjoyed courtship has been interrupted, and frankly, I am in need of his mouth.

“WELL THAT TOOK LONG ENOUGH!”  Lord Matlock snorted and let Darcy’s letter float across his desk.  Richard nabbed it and started reading, Layton leaned over his shoulder and they both started laughing.  “He put up the good fight, but nobody calls Mrs. Darcy fat or lazy!”  

“How anyone could call that tiny woman fat, I cannot imagine.”  Fitzwilliam mused and read the letter again. “Unless . . .”  They exchanged glances and looked over the letter for clues.  “Well, for their sake, I hope it is true.” 

“An heir for Pemberley.”  Lord Matlock raised his glass.  “Here is to the hope.”

“Heir?”  Lady Matlock stuck her head in the door.  “Who?”

“Nobody, dear.”

“She can hear anything.”  Layton whispered.

“I heard that.”  She entered the room and looked at Fitzwilliam pointedly.  Immediately he gave up his chair and stood by her side.  Taking the letter from his hand she read while her husband settled his hands over his stomach and watched with expectation.  “Well it is about time that he excised that wart from his wife!  Good man!”

“Mrs. Bennet had no admirers in this house.”  He chuckled.

“When did this happen?”  Layton looked at the letter.  “Five days?  Whatever storm emerged has surely passed by now.”

“With a woman as stupid as she?  I doubt it!  At least Elizabeth has accepted his decision, he seems relieved with that.”  Lady Matlock read on.  “What is this?  Fitzwilliam Darcy to perform manual labour?  Building a cottage?”  She stared at her husband.  “Is it the air of Hertfordshire?  It made Elizabeth’s mother insane and now it spreads to our nephew?  He cannot be serious!  A gentleman does not perform the work of a servant!”

“It is for a good cause, Helen.”

“It is ridiculous!  How many charities do we support?  We certainly do not perform tasks!  Darcy can buy him the labourers!”

“Mr. Lucas will not accept charity.”  He smiled and she softened a little.  “I am sure that they will not be able to perform much, perhaps it will convince Lucas to hire someone to finish the place.  It is a show of solidarity for his brother.  Amazing though, Lucas is putting all this work into a home he will never own, on an estate that Darcy will not allow his wife to enter, just to be his own man for a brief time before he becomes master of his own estate.”  Lord Matlock looked up to Fitzwilliam and noticed that he was staring at his scarred hands.  “Not all gentlemen have perfect skin, do they Son?”

“No.”  He smiled and took the letter from his mother.  “About two days ride to Hertfordshire?”

“Three, I imagine.”   Layton laughed.  “Are you thinking of joining this party?”

Fitzwilliam shrugged.  “It was an idea.”

“No, this is for the other side of Darcy’s family.”  Lord Matlock smiled.  “He says they will only remain in Hertfordshire a few more weeks then return to Pemberley.  We can harass him then, after all that is where the fox hunting is best!”  He raised his brows and his sons laughed.

“You forget, Husband, that we will be at Ashcroft awaiting our grandchild.  Audrey is due within the month.”

“He will be here soon, with Fitzwilliam blood, the child knows that you are born before fox season begins!”  Lady Matlock rolled her eyes.  “Here,” he pulled forward his calendar.  “I wager . . . October 26
^th
.  A boy, of course.”

Lady Matlock stood.  “I will not play party to your ridiculous betting!” 

“Are you betting again?”  Evangeline asked from the doorway.  “Richard!” 

“Well why not?  They will not let me go build a house with Darcy!”

“They what?”  She entered the room and looked around.  “What have you been drinking?”

“Nothing as yet, my dear.”  He grabbed her hand and kissed it.  “Shall you join me in some wine?”

“Annabel is asking for you.”  She smiled when his eyes lit up. 

“Father, Stephen, I take the 21
^st
.”  He bowed and pulled Evangeline from the room.  “A girl!” They heard his voice call as they went down the hallway and disappeared. 

“He is much happier now.”  Lord Matlock observed. 

“He has decided to be happy.”  Lady Matlock smiled.

Layton leaned forward and pointed at the calendar for his date, then picked up the letter again.  “This land that Darcy just purchased, what do you think?  What was he telling us?”

“The portion of Oakhurst that he mentions?  What was that about?”  Lady Matlock looked at her husband suspiciously as he grinned widely.  “Henry, what is it you know?  Have you been plotting something with our nephew?”

“The entail at Oakhurst ended with David Morgan’s death, the heir desperately needs cash to avoid the Marshalsea and Darcy offered to immediately take a significant portion of the land off his hands at a bargain price.”

She sat forward.  “How great a bargain?”

“Oh.”  Lord Matlock snorted.  “Shockingly!  He got a piece of land worth 3500 a year for 20000!”

“Desperation makes for great purchases.”  Layton grinned.

“That is not fifteen miles from here, less than thirty from Pemberley!”  She laughed.  “He bought it for Richard!”

“Hush woman!  I have to reimburse Darcy, and Richard will do the same for me when we sell the townhouse.”  Lord Matlock glared.  “Until all the legal work is completed, it is a secret!  There is no house either!”

Layton pointed at the letter, “Well Darcy can build him one!” 

“GOOD LORD, DARCY.”   De Bourgh stepped down from his horse.  “What have you done?”

“Done?”  Darcy smiled.  “Nothing.  Yet.” 

“It is not so bad.”  Michael threw his reins over a tree branch.

“I have lived in much worse.”  Robinson rubbed his hands together and smiling, walked up to Darcy and taking his construction book from his hands, stuck it into his saddlebag. 

“Oh, you have made an enemy for life, Robinson.”  Bingley laughed at the look of absolute loss on Darcy’s face and clapped his back.  “Never ever take a book from this man.”

“Not unless you are a bright-eyed girl who has a taste for paper.”  Hurst smiled.  “I heard of the library incident.”

“Has Mrs. Darcy been eating your books, Darcy?”  De Bourgh snorted.

“Very funny.”  Darcy eyed his saddlebag and turned to Robinson.  “Now, since you claim that you are the expert . . .”

“Hardly, but may I ask where Mr. Lucas is?”

“I am here.”  Lucas drove his curricle slowly up to the group of men and stopped.  “What is all this?”

“Sweet!”  De Bourgh and Michael said simultaneously and went over to look at the vehicle.

“We are your greatest dream come true.”  Bingley declared.  Everyone turned to look at him.  “Well, maybe not, that did not come out right; it depends on what you dream about.  I mean, help me Darcy!”

“Me?  You dug this hole.”  He laughed and folded his arms.  “Go on!”

“Quiet.”

“Brother.”  Michael turned to Lucas.  “Darcy determined that you are incapable of accepting charity, something that I can appreciate being in my profession, however, if you hope to be in this house before the snow flies . . .”

“Nobody promised that!”  Bingley cried.  “We are just working on the floor!”

“Wait, you are all here to help me?”  Lucas looked from one face to another.  “That is why you came to visit?”

“Well, that and the ladies we love wish for a dance or three at the assembly next week.”  De Bourgh grinned. 

“Actually . . .”  Darcy rubbed his jaw.  “I know that certain of the ladies are rather looking forward to a display of exertion on our part.” 

Lucas cocked his head.  “Exertion?”

“Displayed, eh?”  De Bourgh’s grin widened.  “I can display a great deal.”

“Now, now, some of us are doing this for purely unselfish reasons.”  Bingley looked at Robinson.  “Correct?”

“Unfortunately.”  The group laughed, and Darcy held out his hand to Lucas.  “We looked the place over when you were buying that curricle last week, and thought we could move things along.  We have no more experience than you, so accept it with the spirit of good intentions.”

“And do not mind the mistakes.”  Hurst offered.

“I do not know what to say.”  Lucas shook hands with Darcy and all around.  “Thank you all.”

Michael was last and clapping his hands, rubbed them together.  “Thank us later, now then, what do we do?” 

“Inside, gentlemen.”  Lucas led the way and soon the yard in front of the house was filled with piles of broken furniture, broken plaster, old wall coverings, old flooring, anything that was loose or ruined.  In Lucas’ curricle there now resided an increasingly large pile of men’s clothing as they discarded hats, coats, waistcoats, and cravats, despite the cool temperature of the autumn day. 

“You really do know what you are doing.”  Bingley grinned at Robinson as he set another stone down in the layer of soft earth Darcy and Lucas had shovelled over the ground.

“So do you.”  Robinson smiled.  “How old were you when you put down that floor?”

“Oh, eleven I think.”

“Hmm.  I suppose I was, too.  Scrawny runt.”  He tapped another stone into place and stood to stretch his back out.  Eyeing his brother, he cleared his throat.  “Um, I, uh, want to apologize to you, my behaviour after Caroline died . . . wanting to chuck it all and give you the estate, I wasn’t thinking too clearly.  I was very upset about the circumstances . . .”

“No, no, I understand, no need to talk about the past.  I surely did think over the offer, but I realize you were speaking in haste.”  Bingley glanced at him then walked over to the pile of stones for another and hefted it across the room.  “So you want to keep it now?”

“For Wallace.”  Robinson shrugged.  “He is all I have, and he deserves a place outside of that smoke-laden city.  I was glad to bring him here for a little while, although soon the crop will be coming in.”

“He needs a mother.” 

“There is no rush; I want to do well by him.”  Robinson looked up to find that he was under close scrutiny.  “Hurst told me about Miss Martin.”

“Do you love her?”  Bingley bristled.  “You do.”

“Bingley, don’t be an ass.  I will not compete with you for her.  I have never let myself think of her as anything other than a lovely lass who makes Wallace smile.  I have witnessed too many times her eager questions about you.”

Bingley closed his eyes.  “Thank you.”

“Just remember, she knows so little of the world where you wish to take her.”  He raised his brows and held out his hands for the stone.  “I like her.  I would hate to see her unhappy.”

“Is that a threat?”

Robinson laughed.  “I suppose it is.” 

“A threat?”  De Bourgh grinned on his way to the pile of stones.  “A fight?  Excellent!  Darcy!  Fisticuffs!”

“Really?”  He came in from the kitchen.  “I cannot remember the last pugilist I saw.  So, shall we clear a space for you?  De Bourgh, five pounds on Robinson!”

“I was going to choose him!”

“Too late!”  Darcy grinned and headed for the pile.

“Thank you for your faith,
friend
!”
  Bingley growled and then laughed when his friend dropped a stone squarely on his boot and swore.  “There you go, what is that, a new dance?  You hop divinely, sir!”

“Shut up, Bingley.”  Darcy glared and gingerly tested his weight on the foot. 

“Come on, we are falling behind!”  De Bourgh picked up two stones and merrily walked past.  “What, only one?”

“He is a gentleman.”  Hurst reminded them.

Michael snorted.  “Never had a blister in his life.” 

Darcy picked up a stack of three stones with a grunt and lifted them onto his shoulder.  “Beat that, preacher.” 

“Oh ho!”  Hurst laughed.

Lucas appeared.  “Are you working or flirting?” 

“Certainly not flirting.”  Bingley blanched. 

“Then get back at it!” 

“Awfully ungrateful sot.”  De Bourgh noted on his way back for more stones.

“Sod-off!”  Lucas barked.

“This is deteriorating quickly.”  Darcy observed and looked at Bingley.  “Are you two getting along?”

“Like two peas in a pod.”  Hurst noted with a grin.

“Why do we keep getting these references to us being entirely too friendly?”  Bingley demanded.

“Because you are extra-sensitive to not being friendly with anyone.”  Michael offered and found everyone looking at him.  “What?  Just because I am a reverend I am not dead!”

“All rumours to the contrary.”  Lucas smiled and headed up the stairs.

“What does that mean?”  Michael stamped after him. 

“Look at this place, it is a mess!”  Jane gasped as the wagon they were riding in stopped behind the curricle.  “Why you would think it had been invaded by the French!”

“It would be burning then.”  Mary noted.

“Whoa!”  Elizabeth held onto the reins and tried to calm the nervous horses when a roar of men’s voices floated from the house.  “What on earth are they doing in there?”

“Never mind, we have work to do.”  Charlotte jumped down and tied off the horses while Louisa and Jane carefully climbed to the ground.  “Are you two well?”

“I am fine.”  Jane panted.  “Just slow.” 

“And forever sleepy.” 

“Shall we peek at them?”  Kitty giggled. 

Maria poked at her.  “Look, they are undressed!”  The ladies all looked at the pile of coats and exchanged pleased smiles. 

“No looking, girls.”  Elizabeth said sternly to Kitty and Maria.

“Lizzy!” 

“Nobody looks at Mr. Darcy, but me.”

“Oh who wants to look at him?”  Jane said and tried to see through a window.  She turned back to see Elizabeth’s surprise.  “Do you
want
me to look at him?”

“No.”  She blushed while the others laughed. 

“Come on, hurry and let us get this picnic set up before they notice us!”  Louisa hurried them along.  “Who has the blankets?”