Memory: Volume 2, Trials to Bear, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) Read online

  Memory

  A Tale of Pride and Prejudice

  Volume 2: Trials to Bear

  Linda Wells

  Memory: Volume 2, Trials to Bear, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice

  Copyright © 2010 Linda Wells

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form whatsoever.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead; is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Images © Roger Asbury (back), David Kay (front), Ellen Morgan (front Volume 3): Dreamstime.com

  [email protected]

  To

  Catherine and Tania

  Bill and Rick

  And to all of the readers at the Meryton Literary Society and Austen Underground, thank you for your exceptional support.

  Chapter 1

  On the fourth day of his homecoming to Pemberley, the twenty-third day of his marriage, Fitzwilliam Darcy finished the afternoon interview with his steward and closed his eyes to fight the headache that was beginning to bloom. It was not the quality of the news, simply the abundance of it that inspired the pain. He glanced at the clock when it chimed and rubbed his temples, “Three hours!” He moaned and looked at the stack of correspondence that cried for his attention, and the pages of notes he had taken as he spoke to Nichols. “This is not what I had planned for today.” Frustrated, he reached for an envelope covered with splotches of ink, and tearing it open tried in vain to read the contents, then threw it down in disgust. From the open study door he heard the sound of the pianoforte drift inside. A smile came to his lips and he sat back to listen. It was not perfect, yet it was not imperfect either. The performance held a quality entirely unique to the woman who touched the keys, but then her voice was added to the melody … and Darcy was lost. He did not move, only closing his eyes and drinking in the sound as she sang of love and beauty, of homecoming and longing. He relaxed and let it play over in his mind until he caught the soft scent of her perfume when she leaned down to brush her lips over his mouth. Darcy’s hand came up to hold her cheek and they kissed slowly. “Will you play and sing for me every day?”

  “Shall I add that to my charge to laugh as well?” Elizabeth Darcy smiled to hear his low chuckle. “What else would you like?”

  “Oh, I do not know. I am regretting not taking you on a proper honeymoon, somewhere far away.” His eyes opened to find her smiling. Noticing the open study door, he rose and walked past her to close and lock it, then turned to see her standing by his desk with her brows raised and fighting to contain her laughter. “Now, where were we?”

  “I have a feeling that you were about to complain about all of these letters you need to read.” She darted away from him and settled in a chair. “If I help it will be finished sooner, and then we can go play without guilt.”

  Darcy sighed. “It is not fair how well you can read me.”

  She picked up the discarded letter. “I have a feeling that you were having difficulty reading this.”

  “Bingley.” He came to lean against her chair. “Go ahead; see if you can decipher it.”

  “It is for you, dear, what if there is news of a personal nature inside?”

  “Then it will remain unknown because I refuse to strain my already weary eyes further. He deserves to have his laundry aired to any who can understand these hieroglyphics he calls letters.”

  “You are tired.” She smiled and raised her brows. “And unkind.”

  “He is old enough to make his writing legible.” Darcy spoke to his folded hands. Elizabeth cleared her throat and he glanced up at her pursed lips. “Forgive me. What does the great artist say?”

  13 July 1809

  Grosvenor Street

  London

  Dear Darcy,

  Well Caroline has surely put her foot in it this time. Her little announcement of her availability and end to her nonexistent engagement to Wickham has made her the laughing stock of our society. I can barely walk into the club without some wit approaching me and asking if she has had any takers since she put herself on offer. I am sick. They are correct you know, she may as well have gone to sit in a merchant’s window with a bow around her middle and a price attached to her head! Her suitor of the past has expressed no interest, even with the additional dowry, so we are back at the beginning.

  Hurst’s parents got wind of the situation and they refuse to welcome her to their estate, and left it to me to do something with her when they leave London. What do you suggest? I am at a loss.

  I hope that you and Mrs. Darcy are well and are enjoying Pemberley. I cannot wait to join you there.

  Sincerely,

  Bingley

  Darcy rubbed his temples. “Cannot this man make one move without my advice?”

  “Have you trained him to wait for your word before doing anything?” She tilted her head. “He is too afraid of making a mistake, especially now when he is just being accepted.”

  “I know.” Darcy sighed. “I did not mean to make him dependent on my every thought; I just wished to guide him. He latched on to me.”

  “You needed him, and did not let him fly on his own.” She said softly.

  “I needed him, but this situation with his sister came about because I did leave him alone. If I had not been preoccupied with a certain bewitching woman …”

  “So it is my fault now?” She smiled and he laughed softly. “Very well, there are many to blame here, and of course most of it should lie with Miss Bingley. Should we invite her here …” Darcy’s horrified look made her burst into laughter. “I was not serious, dear. I do not wish for her presence any more than you do. She was looking at you with entirely too much gratitude when we last saw her.”

  “Entirely too much.” He said emphatically. “No my love, I will suggest that Miss Bingley return to their relatives in the north if she is not permitted to travel with the Hursts or stay in their townhouse.” He sighed. “And I will contact a few acquaintances in want of a wife.”

  “That seems so cold.” Elizabeth said softly.

  “We are the exception dear, not the rule.” Darcy smiled a little and caressed her jaw. “You know that.”

  She smiled and leaned into his hand. “Come, sit down and let us see what else is here. Then perhaps we can take a long walk? We still have time before the sun sets. I was looking at the lake, there seems to be a very well-tended path there.”

  “Yes, and I know so many places where … Well, you will see.” He fixed a fiery gaze upon her. “You will not be shy?”

  “Oh.”

  “Elizabeth?”

  “No, Fitzwilliam, I will not.” Blushing, she reached for the pile of letters while he let out an unsteady breath. She giggled and seeing him grinning like a pleased cat, laughed. Between the two of them they had nearly everything opened and sorted quickly, then Darcy saw a letter from Mrs. Jenkinson. He opened it and Elizabeth noticed his brow creasing. “What does she say?”

  “Anne has begun driving her phaeton again.”

  “Well that is good news, is it not? She must be feeling stronger. Her mother must have employed a very poor physician, and it is fortunate that your uncle found someone who was able to help her.”

  “Yes.” He read on. “She is really leaving the driving to de Bourgh or his sisters, but at least she is enjoying the fresh air for short periods. Mrs. Jenkinson hopes that her final da
ys will remain pleasant.”

  “So despite her improvement Mrs. Jenkinson holds little hope?

  “So it would seem.” Darcy looked up to her. “I realize that it was Anne’s delusion and her mother which were more to blame for what occurred, but I still have dreams about it, and what might have happened.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?” He tilted his head. “What do I do?” She shook her head and smiled. “Is this why I wake with you holding me?” Her smile grew and Darcy kissed her hand. “Have I ever thanked you for not wishing to sleep separately?”

  “I believe that you have yet to miss a morning.”

  His eyes twinkled, “I hope I never do.”

  “I suppose that it is not something that your family would approve of?” She lifted her chin and met his twinkle with a sparkle of her own.

  “Hmm, that is difficult to say, but I suspect it would surely raise some eyebrows if it were known, although I can imagine Richard applauding thunderously. He is an unconventional lout.” Darcy grinned.

  Elizabeth laughed. “I wonder how he was with his men, all business or a great cheerleader, rousting them to fight on bravely. I can see him taking pleasure is speaking of his exploits.”

  “No, no, Richard never speaks of battle.” Darcy said quietly and looked down at their clasped hands. “He has confessed much to me but I know that it barely scratches the surface of the hell he experienced.”

  “I am sorry, Fitzwilliam, I did not mean to offend.”

  He looked up and smiled reassuringly. “You did not, dear. He works very hard to hide his injures and pain. He certainly stared death in the eye.”

  “Have you heard of how he gets on with Mrs. Carter?”

  Darcy smiled and picked up a letter. “Very well, actually. He was pleased that she has been more welcoming; I believe that her wariness is understandable, especially following her miserable marriage. I think that she needs to learn to trust again before giving up her independence.”

  “I hope that they can help each other.” She held his eyes and he began stroking his thumb over her wrist. “Shall we invite Mr. Harwick and Mrs. Carter here this autumn? I remember Richard saying that he would have a great deal of leave in October and November.”

  “Would that be difficult with Jane here?”

  “She does not regret him, and he is your friend, Fitzwilliam. I will ask her if she would object and then you can write to him.” She smiled, “And perhaps we could invite Mr. Stewart and his sister as well.”

  “Matchmaking again, Mrs. Darcy?” He chuckled. “We were so successful the first time.”

  “Well I am an old married woman who has nothing better to do …”

  “Oh, I can think of any number of things that are better to do.” Darcy tugged her hand and she stood to come around the desk and settle in his lap, and he drank in the scent of her hair. “mmm, much better. I have become very fond of this.”

  She snuggled into his arms. “There is certainly no reason for it to end.”

  “At least not here.”

  “Where?”

  “In the trees, my love, in a private glade. In the cool of the shade, upon some long soft grass …”

  “And what will happen there?” Darcy whispered in her ear and she hid her face against his neck. He whispered again and she nodded, and he stood, lifting her with him, then set her down on the floor.

  “Come.” He commanded and taking her hand led the way out of the study and to the front door. A waiting footman handed him a basket and he nodded, then smiled at her.

  “What is this?” She tried to peek around him and grab the folded cloth from the top, but he held it well away from her reach. “Fitzwilliam!”

  “You asked for a picnic. Now there is no reason to hurry back, is there?” He laughed happily.

  “How long do you plan to stay out on this adventure?”

  They stepped outside and pausing for a moment on his front step, surveyed the view. “Until the stars are well in the sky.”

  “Are they not always there?” She asked and felt her hand squeezed tight.

  “You are spoiling the mood, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “I sincerely doubt that anything could do that.” Elizabeth met his smile as they strolled off towards the lake. “I had an interesting interview with Mrs. Reynolds. I do believe that it was she who was doing the interviewing. That woman is fiercely protective of you.”

  Darcy sighed. “What did she do?”

  “Oh nothing, Fitzwilliam. I think that she was concerned about my youth. She wished to be assured that I knew how special you and Pemberley are.”

  “I will speak to her.”

  “Please do not; I want her to trust me.” Elizabeth smiled up at him. “I can understand her hesitation, after all, she has cared for this mansion for twelve years, and here this girl appears and takes away everything in one day.” Darcy frowned and she hastened to add, “No she did not say that, but I must prove myself to her. I have started with the accounts.”

  “You have begun already?” He looked at her in surprise.

  “You were long at work, dear. I could hardly sit and sip tea when I have an education to receive.” She smiled when she saw the pride shining from his eyes. “You are pleased?”

  “Indescribably.” He kissed her hand. “Thank you.” They reached the lake and he pointed out the stream that fed it, and the ancient dam that formed it generations ago. Steadily they walked along, and entered the trees, following the path until they came to a bend, here they made their way along a trail, forged by deer rather than men, and eventually reached a clearing where the sun shone through the sparse trees and long grass grew.

  Elizabeth looked around in wonder. “What is this place? Why are there no trees here?”

  “I found this when I was a boy, and realized that the deer come to sleep here.” He pointed at places in the grass where there were depressions. “Something must have cleared it long ago, but whatever seedlings attempted to grow were either eaten or trampled by the nightly visitors.” Walking to a spot where the grass was undisturbed, he set down the basket and spread out the blanket. Elizabeth took the other end to help, then remained on her knees while he sank down beside her. “I have spent many hours here.”

  “Why? There is no view like there is up on the ridge.”

  “Mmmm, yes there is.” She watched him remove his coat and waistcoat, then his neck cloth. He leaned down to kiss her. “Do you feel safe here?”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth opened his shirt, pulled it free from his breeches, and off. “The only prying eyes are the deer.”

  “Perhaps a bird or two.” He kissed her and then sat up, tugged off his boots and turning to see her struggling from her gown, he grinned. “Let me help you.”

  “I was hoping you would offer.” She held up her hair and he quickly unbuttoned the back, sliding the sleeves down while nibbling on her neck. “mmm.” Elizabeth smiled back at him while his hands pushed the dress away. Rapidly he untied her stays, and finally pulling the chemise over her head, lay her back down on the blanket and stared happily at her partially clad body.

  “A feast!” He declared and with one movement, took hold of the dress and pulled it off, then just as quickly stripped away his breeches. “Now, Mrs. Darcy, I have you where I want you.” He growled and hovered above. His intense stare was boring into her when suddenly he jerked and his passion was replaced by surprise. He looked to see her hands had wrapped around his arousal and were stroking him lovingly. “What …what are you … Ohhhhh.”

  Elizabeth slipped away and easily encouraged him to lie back, then kissed his throat and slowly down his chest, following the trail of dark hair over his stomach to finally caress his arousal with her lips. Darcy groaned and she bit her lip then whispered, “Remember? I said that I wished to kiss you the way you kiss me, that I wished to taste every part of you?”

  “yes.” He said shakily.

  “Then relax, my love, it is my turn.”

  Darcy closed his
eyes, and gasped with the breathtaking sensation of Elizabeth’s tongue and touch flowing over him. He swallowed and moaned, not knowing where to put his hands, not knowing how to relinquish control, and relishing every second of her touch. “Ohhh.” He moved his hips and grabbed the blanket tightly. “Eliz … Liz … ohhh.” He panted then opened his eyes to watch and groaned loudly, “Ohhhhh!”

  Elizabeth felt so powerful, so gloriously happy to finally give him this feeling that he had gifted her countless times. She discovered him watching and stopped, smiled, and crawled over him, her breasts brushing over his chest, until she was crouched above, her hair a curtain that surrounded their faces. Darcy’s eyes widened as he silently questioned her, and lifted his hands to caress her hovering hips. “More, my love?” She whispered invitingly, and stopped to nip and lick his mouth. “More Husband?”

  “You temptress.” He whispered hoarsely. “Yes, oh Lord yes, please do with me what you will.” His eyes closed and his lips parted, giving himself over to the exquisite pleasuring of her tongue as she savoured all of his body. Before long, the sounds of passion overtook the sounds of nature, and that was soon replaced by laughter as they made this place their own.

  “ENOUGH WICKHAM!” Dorothy Younge pushed him off of her. “Do you never get tired?”

  “No, I do not.” He smirked and used her discarded nightdress to wipe himself clean. She got up and glared at him as she walked across the room. “Do not go far. I will want you again before very long.” He laughed and stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes and rubbing his hand over his well-dipped tool. “Ah, you have always been a good lay, Dotty.”

  “At least you have appreciated it.” She said from the dressing room. “My husband certainly did not.”

  “Your husband never lived long enough to get a good taste.” He rolled over and snatched a half-smoked cigar, relit it, and fell back on the pillow, puffing with one hand and fondling with the other. “What will you do now?”

  “I have these rooms for a few more months.” She returned and stood before him. “I told you not to smoke that in here! If you start a fire …”