Beginning, Previous Section, Section IV, Next Section
Part 43
"Lady Matlock!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed again in tones of audible excitement that made all heads turn in her direction. "Have you not brought your children with you?"
Bingley gave his sister an apologetic grimace behind Mrs. Bennet's back, and Richard choked on his tea.
"To a tea house? That is what they might do if I were to give them tea," Caroline nodded to Richard. "Thank you for the little demonstration."
Kitty was now even more afraid of Caroline than ever before, and she hid silently behind Jane. Mr. Bennet and Mary were not with them. They had preferred a walk to a bookseller's.
Bingley had looked around him and seen that all other tables were taken, so he sat down beside Richard, glad to be able to talk to another man after all of Mrs. Bennet's prattling. "Hope you do not mind," he said cheerfully. "It seems a bit full in here."
Mrs. Bennet thought this was a great idea of Bingley, and she immediately seated herself beside Caroline, who directed another venomous look at her brother.
"Would they choke?" asked Mrs. Bennet, who was not at her quickest. "But you would not have to give them tea."
"What would you suggest, Mrs. Bennet?" Richard asked amiably. He had a difficult time suppressing his laughter. Caroline looked so indignant that he dared to ask Mrs. Bennet's opinion.
"Milk?" said Mrs. Bennet.
"Oh, yes," Caroline said sarcastically. She could imagine the commotion that would cause. "Besides, this place holds no attractions for them."
"Oh!" Richard grinned. "I would not say that." He passed his finger through the jam bowl and stuck it in his mouth.
"I have always forbidden my girls to do that," Mrs. Bennet said with disapproval, before she remembered whom she was addressing.
"I am more permissive, Mrs. Bennet," he said seriously. "I only object when they start wiping their fingers on my clothing."
Caroline raised her eyebrows.
"Typical for a man!" Mrs. Bennet shook her head. "Mr. Bennet let them run quite wild too."
"Mama!" Kitty protested.
"Hush, Kitty."
Richard looked as if he was about to say something about wildness, so Caroline kicked him under the table. "I shall not allow my husband to allow my daughter to run wild," she said.
But you do allow me to let you run wild, Richard commented to himself, and he bowed his head to pull a straight face. "I shall comply with your wishes, Madam."
Mrs. Bennet looked envious. That was something Mr. Bennet had never said. "Have you been to many balls in town?" she switched abruptly to one of her other favourite subjects.
"Oh yes, we have been to one," said Caroline.
"Only one?" Mrs. Bennet cried. "Why not more? Will you give one during your stay?"
"I do not feel a very strong inclination to."
Mrs. Bennet looked disappointed. She had hoped that she would be able to obtain an invitation for Mary and Kitty. When the opportunity arose, she ordered tea for her party, and Caroline suppressed a sigh. She poured herself and Richard another cup of tea in the meantime. He smiled at her as if he did not mind that his little outing with his wife had been disturbed.
"Are you not wearing a wedding ring, Lady Matlock?" Mrs. Bennet asked. She had been observing Caroline's jewelry very closely, and she had not detected any oversized ring, which was her idea of a decent wedding ring. She had always been rather piqued that her sister Phillips' ring was bigger than her own.
"This one," said Caroline, as she showed her the ring.
"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet was rather pleased to see that hers seemed more expensive. "I can hardly tell it apart from your other rings."
"There is no real need for that. People will know that I am married anyway, since I do not go anywhere without my husband," which was a slight exaggeration of the truth.
"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet gasped. She hardly went anywhere with her husband. "Will he not let you?" Her whisper was not meant to be overheard by Richard, and she thought he had not heard it, since he was listening to Bingley.
"No," Caroline whispered back. She could not pass up this chance. "I will not let him go out alone."
"Why not?" Mrs. Bennet gasped again.
"Men going out alone? It is unthinkable! Who knows what they might do."
"Indeed!" Mrs. Bennet agreed. She did not know if Caroline was mad or right, but she did not want to disagree with a Countess.
"It is not safe. They are not capable of going out by themselves. I hope Mr. Bennet is at home at this moment? I should hate to think of my brother's father-in-law walking the streets alone." Caroline looked appropriately concerned.
"No," Mrs. Bennet looked shocked. "He went out to buy books."
"Tsk tsk."
"But my daughter went with him!" Mrs. Bennet said quickly.
"Oh," said Caroline with a relieved sigh. "That eases my worries. It was a good move on your part to send your daughter with him. If I cannot accompany mine, I always send my daughter in my place too."
Mrs. Bennet frowned and wondered if modern babies grew up faster than they did twenty years ago. Under the table Richard kicked Caroline, and she kicked him back. He had expected it and moved his legs to the side, thereby nudging Bingley, who thought Richard was trying to get his attention in an inconspicuous manner. "What is it?" Bingley whispered.
"Nothing. You were in the line of fire. Although not quite exactly that. I was ducking out of the line of fire and hit you instead."
"Right," said Bingley. "Colonel Fitzwilliam speaking. I do not quite follow all that Colonel-talk."
"I do not have much of it left! Your sister has beaten most of it out of me."
Mrs. Bennet caught his last words and gasped.
Part 44
Mrs. Bennet was wise enough not to inquire any further into cases of domestic violence, especially since she was seated next to the alleged perpetrator. She was fairly silent for the remainder of the time, giving Caroline a chance to speak to Jane, and occasionally to Kitty.
When she arrived home, she had to speak to Mr. Bennet about it. "Mr. Bennet," she began.
"Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet replied in acknowledgment. He was too engrossed in one of his new purchases to be very interested in what his wife had to say, but if he did not show any sign of having heard her, she would raise her voice. And anything but that.
"Lady Matlock is one of those radical women."
"Oh."
"She beats her husband."
"At chess?" Mr. Bennet asked absentmindedly. He himself was occasionally beaten by Elizabeth and Mary.
"No, with..." Mrs. Bennet looked confused. "I do not know what she uses."
"Mrs. Bennet, is this woman an acquaintance of ours?" Mr. Bennet wondered why he was being bothered with such a ridiculous story.
"Mr. Bennet! She is Mr. Bingley's sister!"
"Have I met her?"
"Yes, you have. She was Miss Bingley."
"I would not have expected her to have been Miss Jones if she is Bingley's sister, as you say," Mr. Bennet said dryly. "And she beats her husband, you say? How very interesting. I think, Mrs. Bennet, that you are a little too gullible for this world."
"But he said so himself!" his wife protested. "In the tea house."
"My dear, if you were to hit me on a regular basis, I would not inform a total stranger of it, so I assume that the gentleman in question would not do so either. And do you have more clandestine meetings with this man?"
"I am not a total stranger! I am her sister-in-law's mother and I do not have clandestine meetings! We met both of them in a tea house, and there Lady Matlock told me that she does not allow her husband to go out alone either, because she says it is unthinkable to have a man go alone. So you see, it must be true."
"Indeed, Mrs. Bennet. It would seem so." Mr. Bennet returned his attention to his book, leaving Mrs. Bennet very dissatisfied and wishing for Mrs. Phillips, who would have shown a much more enthusiastic reaction to this gossip.
Richard and Caroline went for two more rounds in the park. "Richard, did you have to stick your finger in the jam? It looked so..."
"Childish? Savage? Unmannered?"
"Yes. And why did you say you only objected to their wiping their fingers on your clothing? It is not entirely true, is it?"
"No," he conceded. "They have never stuck their fingers in the jam yet, but remind me to object to it when they do."
"Hmm..."
"What?"
"Nothing. It is best not to give you any ideas for mischief," Caroline said.
They were walking on a wooden bridge over a pond. "Tell me or I am going to throw you in," Richard said, dragging Caroline to the railing.
"Mrs. Bennet would never believe it. She would think it was the other way around."
He lifted Caroline up a little and placed her on the railing of the bridge. "Ha ha. As if you could. Now what was this hmm all about? It sounded as if you did not believe me."
"I did not," Caroline giggled. "Are you sure there is no one watching? This must look very strange." A man came walking towards them and Caroline quickly slid off the railing. "Before this man starts hitting you."
"Well?"
"Hmm! I thought you were more the type to encourage them to wipe their fingers on the table cloth or on me."
Richard looked incredulous. "Me? Oh no. I can be very strict."
Part 45
"Oh yes?" Caroline cried defiantly, just as the man came within earshot. He had a shocked expression on his face, and looked carefully if Caroline was in need of assistance.
"Do not worry, sir. This is my wife. She is mine to throw in," Richard said to the man.
The man quickly averted his eyes and walked on.
"Would you happen to know the way to St. Bethlehem's Hospital?" Richard called after him. "We seem to be lost and the east wing nurses are real hags that will have us flogged if we are late."
Caroline pressed her hand to her mouth and doubled up with laughter. She made it very easy for Richard to lift her up to the railing again. "Hold me. I am laughing so hard that I might really fall in."
"And then?" He had a firm grip on her wrists and Caroline let herself fall back a little.
"I will scream for you to fish me out."
"With a net?" Richard asked interestedly. "Or a rod?"
"No, in person."
"Will I do that?"
"Yes, you will. Oh goodness. Look who we have there. Darcy!"
Richard looked aside and saw Darcy approaching them. "Darcy!"
"Good day," Darcy said with a slight look of disapproval at finding Lord Matlock engaged in suspending Lady Matlock above a pond. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"If you run quickly in that direction, you might still catch up with your mother-in-law. We just had tea with her, because you were neglecting your duties."
"Thank God," said Darcy with a roll of his eyes. He showed no intention of running after Mrs. Bennet, which was a good thing for him, because Mrs. Bennet had arrived home a long time ago already.
Caroline did not like Darcy's disapproving look. "No, no. You should say Thank Richard, although to me it is exactly the same thing," she said, blinking adoringly.
Darcy looked even more disapproving. "Did you corrupt her, Fitzwilliam? How on earth will you bring up your children to be good citizens?"
"We do not have any vices. If we are good, they will be good," Richard said laconically. He pulled Caroline off the railing. "Honestly, Darcy, look at this. Does it look corrupted?"
"I must go," said Darcy, before he was called upon to give his opinion on Caroline's looks.
"Wait, Mr. Darcy," Caroline said. "Do you think I cannot corrupt myself on my own?"
"I must go," Darcy said again. "I do not doubt your corruptive skills, but my wife awaits me."
"Mine does not," Richard grinned. "Oh! And whatever Mrs. Bennet tells you, it is all true."
"Women can think, Mr. Darcy," Caroline interrupted. "By themselves."
Darcy had heard the same thing from his wife that morning, so he was not really pleased with it. "Yes, yes, I know," he said hastily. "A woman's understanding is far better than a man's."
"Ha," said Caroline. "But Richard is not just any man, so I would rank him with the women."
"Do you want me to put you back on the railing?" Richard asked.
"Uhh, good day to you," Darcy said with an uncomfortable look. "I really must go."
"I did not come anywhere near heaving Caroline in," Richard protested.
"I wish you had a little bridge like this at home," Caroline said dreamily. "And of course he did not come close to dropping me. If he had, he would have been sorry for it."
"How?" Richard asked.
"I would have thrown you in as well."
"She would have to use cunning," Richard said to Darcy. "I do not think she is strong enough yet."
"Yet?" Darcy exclaimed with wide eyes. He gave them a last doubtful stare, and then he walked quickly on.
"He thinks we are mad, absolutely mad!" Richard gasped. "Serves him right! He should not have given us such disapproving stares."
"We are very sane," Caroline agreed. She looked very calm and composed when she took her husband's arm to resume their walk. "Do you think Anne arrived home safely?"
Richard looked at his watch. "Three hours ago?"
"That long? Then we really must go home."
Anne had indeed arrived home a few hours before. Colonel Marsden had expressed his regret that he could not stay with her, since he had a prior engagement. During the walk they had talked some more, and Anne had been surprised to find how easy it was to talk to him. She really liked him very much, she decided as she watched him leave.
Still thinking of her agreeable walk, she sat down to wait for Richard and Caroline, but after three hours she had enough of it, and she walked up to the nursery to look at the babies.
The maid who was watching them was glad to see a person who could speak intelligibly. "Has the Mistress not returned yet?"
"No."
"I think they are beginning to get hungry. I hope she returns soon, or they will start crying."
Anne wondered why Caroline was the only who could feed them. "Can you not give them that distasteful-looking yellow mash they had for breakfast?"
"Banana, Miss?"
"Was that it?"
"Yes. No, they do not want banana now. They want to drink. Oh damn," Betty said as James began to cry. "Sorry, Miss."
James's crying drowned out all other sound, and they did not hear Caroline arrive. Everybody looked pleased to see her, little James most of all.
"I am sorry," Caroline apologised. "We ran into a few people. Is Jamie hungry?" she said to him. "Mama is here now. Anne, would you carry Julia for me? Betty looks as if she desperately needs a break."
Betty grinned. It was not that bad, but she was not used to watching the twins for four hours at a stretch. She could certainly do with a break.
Part 46
Anne followed Caroline to her bedchamber. It was not the tidiest of bedchambers and various articles of clothing were draped over chairs.
"Do sit down," said Caroline, looking around vaguely. "Just throw all those clothes on the other chair if they are in the way."
Anne removed a pile of gowns, breeches, stockings, and waistcoats to another chair with her free hand, trying not to drop Julia. This showed her what she had not fully realised: that Caroline and Richard shared a bedchamber, and it made her a little uncomfortable. Looking at Caroline made her even more uncomfortable, however, because Caroline had settled herself on the bed and she was undoing the buttons of her gown while James was lying beside her, protesting loudly against this delay. "Caroline? What are you doing?" Anne asked anxiously.
"They are hungry."
"But why do you need to take off your gown?"
"I am not taking it off," Caroline winked. "These front buttons have a purpose. Will you bring Julia to me?"
Anne's eyes widened as the purpose became clear to her.
"You do not have to stay, Anne, if you had rather not. I shall not mind being alone," Caroline said. She noticed Anne's astonishment.
Darcy was shocked, jealous and confused all at once when he walked home. Shocked, because he had never seen anyone do anything like it. Jealous, because he was not as naughty as his cousin, and because he could never do it, being Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. Confused, because his cousin had the same reason not to do it, being the Earl of Matlock. Yet he had done it, and Darcy had always thought that his cousin was sane.
He did not tell Elizabeth. She would probably laugh and ask him when he was ever going to do something like that.
Richard had decided he had walked enough for the day and he had himself driven over to Darcy's house, so he could read the newspaper during the ride. Darcy was surprised to see him, but he assumed that he had come to apologise or explain his odd behaviour. Of course he was wrong.
"I have come for Georgiana," Richard announced.
"Georgiana?"
"Your sister. I am still her other guardian. You are behaving very strangely, Darcy. Is something the matter?"
"No, is something the matter with you?" Darcy blurted out. "Have you no sense of propriety? One cannot do such things with one's wife in a public park!"
"Ahh, but they are allowed in a private park?" he asked in a serious voice.
"This is not about the park, it is about the things you do in it!"
"Which things?" Richard asked. He is so ineloquent! He makes it sound as if I did something really improper. I hope nobody overhears, because then they would think I actually would... "And which things are allowed? Tell me what you and Mrs. Darcy do in parks then. It might give me an idea of propriety. Or not."
"What Mrs. Darcy and I do is none of your business!"
"So what Mrs. Fitzwilliam and I do is none of your business either! Bingo, Darcy. I am glad you are not slow on the uptake. Caroline might rank you with the women," he chuckled.
"Am I supposed to be grateful for that?"
"Well, I am. Perhaps Caroline should not rank you with the women after all, since you do not seem to understand that it is not about women, but about understanding."
"Or blind idolatry."
"Call it blind if you wish. I still have my other senses, though," Richard grinned. "And they all tell me the same thing. Now may I speak to Georgiana? I have an invitation for her."
Part 47
"I sometimes envy you your talent for not thinking before you act or speak," Darcy said.
Richard looked serious. "One, I usually think before I act or speak, though my thoughts may seem irrational to you. Two, the only reason your enviable cousin is able to speak with you now is because he has a forgiving wife. I would not envy him if I were you."
"What?" Darcy exclaimed.
"If she had not taken me back..."
"Taken you back? What do you mean?" Darcy asked and Richard told him the whole story. "And how did you resolve your differences? I do not suppose you came back and announced you were home, just like that. I found out Elizabeth certainly does not approve of that, and from what I know of Caroline I do not think she would take that very lightly either."
"No, I spoke from the heart."
Darcy gave a feeling moan that expressed his opinion on speaking words from the heart extremely well.
"Exactly," Richard agreed.
His cousin looked incredulous. "I thought such words came easily to you. Page-long sentimental speeches."
"Darcy! Are you insane? Of course not. We are relatives, remember? We must have more in common that that Fitzwilliam business and a few relatives."
Darcy sighed. "Why can women not just know? Why do they have to put us through this whole ordeal of speaking our mind, and then with a little self-satisfied smile say they knew it?"
"Mine did not do that."
"What did you say? You must have spoken some magical words then."
"I said what I felt. It took me about a minute, I think," Richard reflected.
"A minute? Are your feelings so shallow?"
"No, but I did not waste any words, and she felt the rest of the message shortly afterwards," he grinned. "That took us a little longer than a minute."
"I hope this was not in a park," Darcy commented humourously.
"No, in our hall."
"Either your wife must umm...like your umm...kisses or she is extremely forgiving, and do not bother to give me an answer to that. What do you want to invite Georgiana for?"
"A dinner party, and we need someone to play for us afterwards."
"Why can Caroline not do that? I recall she was always very eager to perform," Darcy remarked.
Richard snickered.
"What is so amusing?"
"Ha! I am glad you do not know the impressive extent of her repertoire, because it means you never paid any attention to her whatsoever, not even when she was playing. Besides, she has forgotten most of it that was meant for a general audience. She only plays for the children, and sometimes for me, but not even that anymore since the stool at the pianoforte gave way one day when we were performing a six-mains."
"A what?"
"Six hands," Richard grinned. "I do not think anyone in the house minded that it broke, though. The four of us were producing a horrible sound."
"Four people with six hands, on one stool? What happened to the other two hands?"
"Two of us were holding the other two with one hand."
"Aha," said the enlightened Darcy. "That sounds like quite an agreeable family scene, actually. I would not mind something like that, if we will ever be fortunate enough. Unlike you -- you grabbed the first chance you received, your wedding night."
"Uhh," said Richard. "No, never mind. Let me go and find Georgiana. I can hear her playing, so she should not be too difficult to find." He walked towards the sound. Georgiana was practicing behind the pianoforte, but she stood up to give him a hug. "I came to see you."
"The guardian's weekly check-up?" she smiled.
"Yes! I am going to put your musical talents to the test."
"What shall I play for you?" Georgiana asked, her fingers waiting.
"Not here. I am here to invite you to dine with us next week, and afterwards you may play for us if you wish. Which day would suit you best? Mind you, I am not inviting your brother, only you. "
"Every day," Georgiana said with a pleased smile. She was not often invited in her own right.
"Monday?" Richard suggested.
"That will be perfect. Who will be there?"
"Anne, my mother --"
"Oh!" Georgiana cried delightedly.
"-- Colonel Marsden, who is a friend of mine, and perhaps one of our neighbours. I am not completely sure if we will invite more people. You do not enjoy performing before huge crowds, do you?"
"No," Georgiana shook her head. "And if it is only two people that I do not know, I think I shall be all right."
"Besides, I need you there," Richard said with sparkling eyes. "Caroline is trying to make a match between my friend Colonel Marsden and Anne. Do not tell anyone about it."
"Oh!" Georgiana cried again. "I cannot wait!"
Part 48
After he had left Georgiana, Richard briefly stopped by at Colonel Marsden's lodgings. "When are you going to get a decent house of yourself, Marsden?" he asked his friend.
"I am still looking into the matter, and I am in no hurry."
"In the meantime I shall have to invite you again for a decent meal and evening entertainment. How about Monday?"
"Monday is fine," Marsden answered.
"Excellent! I shall see you on Monday then."
During the ride back home he read the remainder of the newspaper. With the bathing and feeding of the children and the subsequent walk in the park he had not had the chance to do so yet. When he alighted from the carriage in the courtyard, he saw Baxter running towards him. "Just the man I needed. Are you free to dine with us on Monday?"
Baxter panted and could not answer, only nod.
"You ought to exercise more, Baxter. Running such a short distance and panting! I am ten years older, and look!" Richard ran the distance and back a few times. "You ought to do this several times a day," he called out while running.
Baxter obediently ran across the courtyard with him. "Like this, my Lord?"
"Yes, very good. And what also helps, is running up all the stairs to the top floor a few times in a row."
"Will...the servants...not...look upon that...strangely?"
"If you run fast enough, you will not even notice if they are looking on. Women like it, you know," Richard said confidently.
"How will...they know...I do this? And why...do they...like it?"
"Aesthetics. It is all about aesthetics. Well, good luck with it," Richard stopped running as he saw that Baxter was about to collapse. "I must go back in."
"Wait!" Baxter blurted out while he was bending over trying to regain his breath. He fumbled in his pocket and thrust out a note. "Read this please."
"Ahh...the poem?"
"Yes."
"I shall read it and return it to you on Monday, or perhaps before." Richard promised. He stuffed the note into his coat and went into the house. His mother and Anne were working at something, and Caroline was playing with the children. He dropped down beside her and started whispering. "I invited Georgiana, Marsden and Baxter for Monday."
"I thought you took the carriage?" Caroline asked. "You look as if you ran all the way."
"I ran in the courtyard with Baxter."
Caroline did not think it strange at all, apparently. "Have you gotten rid of your restlessness sufficiently enough to play with them now?"
"Yes, but I..." Richard protested.
"So do I," said Caroline.
"You do not even know what I was going to say!"
"No," she admitted. "But that does not mean it does not apply to me. I do whatever you do."
Julia, who had been sitting on her mother's lap, pulled herself to a standing position by holding on to Caroline's gown and thereby put an end to the discussion, because this accomplishment then demanded everybody's undivided attention. The fact that Julia tumbled back as soon as she let go of Caroline's gown, did not detract from its magnitude in any way.
The following day passed very quietly. The elder Lady Matlock and Anne went to church, Richard and Caroline walked to the park and everybody spent the rest of the day writing letters or reading. They had the children with them for a while, but not too long, or else the nurse would have nothing to do. She already had an easy job, for Caroline did not want her children to grow more attached to their nurse than to herself, so she had them with her a great deal, and if they were not with her, they were with their father or their grandmother.
Towards the end of the afternoon Richard remembered Baxter's poem and he fished it out of his coat.
Part 49
Richard folded open the note when he was in the library and read it.
The days seem more bright
I dream of you every night
Ever since I first saw you
With your gown so blue
He read it again, but it remained the same. "Patrick!" he groaned with his head between his hands. It rhymes, but that is about it. And so short! Perhaps I should extend it somewhat? Does he know the lady's name? I suppose he does not, or he would have told me.
He thought for a while and then rewrote the lines in columns under the poem and crossed out the original ones. Before he could add any more lines to it, he saw that it was time to get ready for dinner, and he had to leave the piece of paper there.
Caroline came down for dinner, but she was still a little early, so she entered the library. She walked around a little and suddenly saw the note. Naturally she read it because it was full of crossed-out words and she thought it might be a letter from her brother that she had somehow overseen in the post.
(the days seem more bright)
(I dream of you every night)
(ever since I first saw you)
(with your gown so blue)
From SEEing YOU the DAYS will SEEM more BRIGHT
In DREAMS I SEE you EACH and EV'ry NIGHT
It WAS forEver SINCE I FIRST saw YOU
The WAY you WALKED there WITH your GOWN so BLUE
"Goodness!" she exclaimed. Who wrote this? The last four lines are in Richard's handwriting, but it is not from him for me! He sees me during the day, so why emphasise the nights? Why would he improve somebody else's poem? Unless he was asked to by a friend? Is it from Colonel Marsden? For Anne? Did she wear a blue gown when they first met? I did not know he felt anything for her! It was exciting to think that her scheme had worked, but this poem definitely needed more. She picked up the pen and stared into space.
I CANnot HELP adMIring FROM aFAR
Just LIKE I WOULD a BRIGHTly SHIning STAR
She tried to imitate Richard's rhyming system and handwriting as well as she could and wrote the words neatly in columns. "Oh! I am so bad at this!" Caroline put down the pen when she heard dinner being announced, but picked it up again to scribble a little message in the margin.
It is bad. I know.
The next person to come into the library was Lady Matlock, but this was the following morning. She always rose early, and she was in search of a book to pass away the time until breakfast. Her eye fell on the piece of paper on the desk, and she walked over to investigate who had forgotten to finish their letter.
(the days seem more bright)
(I dream of you every night)
(ever since I first saw you)
(with your gown so blue)
From SEEing YOU the DAYS will SEEM more BRIGHT
In DREAMS I SEE you EACH and EV'ry NIGHT
It WAS forEver SINCE I FIRST saw YOU
The WAY you WALKED there WITH your GOWN so BLUE
I CANnot HELP adMIring FROM aFAR
Just LIKE I WOULD a BRIGHTly SHIning STAR
"Oh!" Lady Matlock sighed. Who is this poet? It has to be Richard, since he is the only man in the house and this is obviously about a lady. Her eyesight was not what it had been, and she did not see there were three different handwritings on the paper. She could not help adding some lines of her own, and they were rather sad, because the star had made her think of her husband.
I WISH I COULD have YOU forEver HERE
But SAD eNOUGH you ARE no LONger NEAR
Some DAY we'll MEET aGAIN, we WILL uNITE
Yes, ALL that NOW is DARK will TURN to LIGHT
"A bit sad, perhaps," she said reflectively. "But if he does not like it, he will cross it out, will he not? Perhaps I should add something in the margin as well."
And this is sad. I know.
The poem was not yet finished, however, because Anne also happened to stumble on the note when she walked into the library to write a letter to Lady Catherine. Anne had never been told not to read other people's correspondence, since it had not occurred to Lady Catherine to do so, so she could not help glancing at the poem.
(the days seem more bright)
(I dream of you every night)
(ever since I first saw you)
(with your gown so blue)
From SEEing YOU the DAYS will SEEM more BRIGHT
In DREAMS I SEE you EACH and EV'ry NIGHT
It WAS forEver SINCE I FIRST saw YOU
The WAY you WALKED there WITH your GOWN so BLUE
I CANnot HELP adMIring FROM aFAR
Just LIKE I WOULD a BRIGHTly SHIning STAR
I WISH I COULD have YOU forEver HERE
But SAD eNOUGH you ARE no LONger NEAR
Some DAY we'll MEET aGAIN, we WILL uNITE
Yes, ALL that NOW is DARK will TURN to LIGHT
Anne had her own explanation for the poem. She thought Richard had written it after he had argued with Caroline. She did not know how to account for the variety in handwritings, but since it all looked very similar she concluded that it probably had all been written by one person, but not at the same time. That bit in the middle could do with a little elaboration. And he should not leave it lying here so openly if he did not want anybody to read and improve it, would he? And from the comments in the margin I would conclude that he is talking to anyone who happens to pass by.
So VEry HIGH up IN the NIGHTly SKY
And NEver TOUCHing -- ALways PASSing BY
Anne stared at the poem after she had inserted her two lines in the same sort of hand that had been used for the rest of it, and suddenly she regretted her interference. She could not write a letter to her mother at this desk now. But before she went, she added her own little message in the margin.
More?
Quickly she departed.
That evening several people were expected for dinner. Colonel Marsden arrived while everyone was changing, and so he was shown into the library where he could amuse himself by reading. Anyone but the naturally incurious first made a tour of the room, and as he was exploring he encountered the poem. He read it.
(the days seem more bright)
(I dream of you every night)
(ever since I first saw you)
(with your gown so blue)
From SEEing YOU the DAYS will SEEM more BRIGHT
In DREAMS I SEE you EACH and EV'ry NIGHT
It WAS forEver SINCE I FIRST saw YOU
The WAY you WALKED there WITH your GOWN so BLUE
I CANnot HELP adMIring FROM aFAR
Just LIKE I WOULD a BRIGHTly SHIning STAR
So VEry HIGH up IN the NIGHTly SKY
And NEver TOUCHing -- ALways PASSing BY
I WISH I COULD have YOU forEver HERE
But SAD eNOUGH you ARE no LONger NEAR
Some DAY we'll MEET aGAIN, we (RE) WILL uNITE
Yes, ALL that NOW is DARK will TURN to LIGHT
He glanced away uneasily. It was as if someone had known what he had dreamt of last night. Some lines were too applicable to his own situation to be comfortable. He had been rather astonished to find that he had dreamt of Miss De Bourgh and her sweet smile. And it was true that it had been dark when he had dreamt, and now that he was about to meet her again it was still light. It was too much of a coincidence, even if he had no idea who had written this poem for whom. It did not really make sense if Fitzwilliam wrote it. He always had his wife near, and he would not write a poem for another lady and leave it lying around like this. Marsden frowned. It was probably somebody else. A visitor, perhaps. But he does ask for more, so here we go.
Though I have ONly KNOWN you FOR a WHILE
I CAME to LIKE your VEry PRETty SMILE
He could not greatly err with that, he thought, whoever was the addressee of the poem, but it should not go at the end of the poem. He crossed it out and copied it at the beginning. I hope the author will copy it completely before he gives it away, it is an unintelligible mess now with all these crossed-out words and lines and additions.
As everyone who had added to the poem, he could not stay in the same room with it for much longer, and he went to the drawing room.
Georgiana was also early and she was told the other guest was in the library, so she was shown in there. However, Colonel Marsden had gone to the drawing room and she was all alone. The coincidence was almost too great, but Georgiana saw the poem too. "What a mess!" she exclaimed. "And what is the reason for the capitals? It is too difficult to read! The person who wrote this will not even be able to copy it out neatly. He is never going to win a lady with this handwriting! It is the worst male handwriting I have ever seen." She did not know that half of the contributors had been women. Georgiana disliked messy letters, so she sat down to copy it out in a neat, anonymous handwriting and she stuffed the original, with the evidence of the various additions, in her pocket, since the fire was only smouldering and it would take too long to burn.
Though I have only known you for a while
I came to like your very pretty smile
From seeing you the days will seem more bright
In dreams I see you each and ev'ry night
It was forever since I first saw you
The way you walked there with your gown so blue
I cannot help admiring from afar
Just like I would a brightly shining star
So very high up in the nightly sky
And never touching -- always passing by
I wish I could have you forever here
But sad enough you are no longer near
Some day we'll meet again, we will unite
Yes, all that now is dark will turn to light
I wonder who wrote it? And for whom? It cannot be from Richard to Caroline. Georgiana read it carefully. I do not know whom it could apply to! Unless it was written by that friend of Richard's! For Anne! If it is so, he has it bad! Oh, oh, oh! She giggled. Why did he not give it to her? Silly me! Because he had not finished copying it yet! Georgiana, put it down. You are not going to give it to Anne. Put it down!
She attached a piece of paper on which she reacted to the comments that had been in the margin. She of course thought that they had all been written by the same person.
Not bad, not sad, not more!
Georgiana skipped out of the library with a smile and joined the party in the drawing room.
Part 50
Richard had not thought about Baxter's poem until the man himself was announced. He played the good host for a while, but then he excused himself with a vague excuse and exited the room. He went to the writing desk in the library where the scrap of paper was supposed to be. There was a neatly written poem on a clean sheet of paper instead. Richard frowned and he picked it up to read it. He read it once, twice, three times even, but he could not begin to guess which one of his relatives had finished the poem. He saw there was a note and he looked if there was a signature, but there was not. The note was even more incomprehensible. The handwriting was clear, but unknown to him. The words of the poem puzzled him a great deal. Somebody met somebody else with a pretty smile not long ago, and yet the person was taken away from him, and he hoped they would meet again?
His first bet would be Marsden, but then Marsden had not been in the house long enough to produce such a poem, unless he had come prepared, which was just as unlikely as Marsden whipping up ten lines of metrical poetry in ten minutes.
The only one who would dare to interfere in his correspondence was Caroline, of course, but he did not really see anything that spoke of Caroline in the poem. If Caroline had written it, she had altered her handwriting especially, and she had tried to write from another person's perspective.
Anne would not dare to add so much as a comma to somebody else's work, Richard thought. Her nature ruled her out effectively. Besides, why Anne should want to continue a poem addressed to a woman was incomprehensible to him.
The same applied to his mother. But then, she would only interfere if she thought it was meant for Caroline. She might have written the last four lines, but not the rest of it, and like everyone else, she could have had no idea for whom the poem was intended. Is that not essential when one extends a poem? Especially when there are only four lines to go on.
It was a complete mystery to Richard, and he almost forgot to go to dinner when it was announced. He left the poem in the library, hoping that the mysterious poet would somehow remember to sign his name to it.
During dinner nobody mentioned or even hinted at their literary efforts in the library, even though all of the people present had contributed to some extent. After dinner the ladies retired to the drawing room and the gentlemen remained. Baxter was discreet enough not to clear up any misunderstandings by asking after his poem, or perhaps he was too distracted by the company of two men ten years his senior who were discussing interesting subjects like war, faraway places, politics and the quality of foreign food.
After dinner the ladies retired to the drawing room and Caroline went upstairs to collect the twins. When she came down, Georgiana had just started a conversation on men's handwritings. "I generally think they write very badly," she heard Georgiana say. "Except my brother, but he writes so carefully that it takes forever before he finishes a letter. Whenever a man writes quickly, it must be illegible. I wonder why." Georgiana had a purpose. She wanted to find out who had written that poem, and if anyone had received it yet. Surely anyone who had received Georgiana's copy of the poem would protest against this insult against men in general?
Caroline seated herself with a child on each leg. The other ladies had been in the twins' presence often enough now not to go into hysteric raptures anymore whenever they saw them, and it was a great comfort to Caroline that she could keep them for herself now, and that she did not have to look at whoever was holding them to see if they were not careless with her babies. "Men cannot hold any of the little things," she remarked. "Like pens or needles."
"Edward could draw very well though," said Lady Matlock.
"But in general..."
"In general you are probably right, although I think they simply do not care about little things. They do not have the patience."
Caroline wanted to say that Richard had a lot of patience with little things like his children, but then she thought that perhaps she would bore everybody if she always spoke about her family, so she kept silent.
"Well, they should!" said Georgiana. "Especially if their writing is meant for a woman. I should like a man much better if he had a nice handwriting." The other ladies laughed heartily.
"You might fall in love with a man before you see a sample of his handwriting," Caroline said.
"An illegible scribble will cure me of my folly," Georgiana said with conviction, and they all laughed again.
"I heard that you can read a person's character in his handwriting," said Caroline. "Especially a man's." She was thinking of Bingley and Darcy in particular.
"Why not a woman's?" Georgiana asked.
"Because a woman can adapt her handwriting much easier."
Nobody was prepared to deny that, all of them having adapted their handwriting when they had added to the poem.
"A woman can write like a man, but a man cannot write like a woman," Caroline continued. "But I must confess that the only handwriting I am familiar with to a certain degree is my husband's."
"To a certain degree only?" Lady Matlock asked. Does Richard not write you letters?
"Why, yes. We talk. We do not communicate on paper."
"Never?" Anne asked.
Caroline and Anne suspected each other of being the recipient of the poem and Caroline did not want Anne to think that it was a bad thing to receive one. "No, not never, but I am afraid Richard is not terribly...uhh...He does not write me notes and poems and such."
"He does not?" Lady Matlock was surprised. Who was the poem for then?
"How totally unromantic," Georgiana declared. "Does he ever buy you flowers?" Alright, so it was not for Caroline.
"Flowers!" Caroline laughed. "No." She searched her mind for something about Richard that Georgiana might find romantic. "He reads to me! Does that satisfy you, Georgiana?"
"Well, I suppose it could be worse. What does he read you from?"
"The newspaper."
"You are jesting! I know you are," Georgiana cried. "Why does he not read novels to you? They are much more exciting." Georgiana had recently discovered novels, and she had become an avid reader. "May I tell you about the one I finished this morning? It was so romantic!"
"Yes, you may, Georgiana," said Caroline. "I was eighteen once too. Long ago."
"Shall I hold one of the children?" Lady Matlock offered when she noticed that Caroline did not have her hands free to pick up her tea cup.
Caroline attempted to hand Julia over, but she started to cry. Then she tried it with James, but he was also reluctant to leave his mother. "It seems they do not want to."
"But you cannot drink tea now!"
"I do not mind. I like sitting like this," Caroline shrugged and Georgiana began her story.
Part 51
The gentlemen joined them in the middle of Georgiana's story, and she broke off with a blush. "I shall tell you about the rest later, if you are still interested."
"Why are you not continuing?" her aunt asked her.
"No, no," Georgiana said. She feared her cousin's comments, because she was sure he did not like such books.
"Very wise," said Caroline. "Some people might not be able to hold their tongues."
"Oh, is there something I am not allowed to hear?" Richard asked as he sat down next to her.
"It is better not to tempt you. You have remarkably little verbal self-control," his wife told him.
Richard grinned and reached for the nearest child. "Oh dear," said his mother. "I wonder if he will cry."
"Why would he cry?" Richard asked, and nothing happened indeed.
"He wanted to stay with Caroline."
"Wise young man. What were you talking about?"
"Georgiana was telling us about a book she read," Lady Matlock told him while she poured the men some tea.
"I shall make a guess." Richard said while he gave Caroline a tea cup and received the other baby in return . He then turned towards Georgiana. "The virtuous maiden, imprisoned by the rake in a draughty cellar, but she sees he is hiding a heart of gold and a great deal of virtue under his villainous exterior, and in the end, after she has survived several attempts from his housekeeper to murder her, they get married, and they have puppies," he said in a low voice, so only Georgiana and Caroline could overhear.
Georgiana's mouth fell open. "That was almost like the book I read before this one. But they did not have puppies."
"Well, they should," Richard said. "They are an essential ingredient. What a terrible oversight! I wonder how the writer could have overlooked it."
"Perhaps Richard should write a story for you," Caroline smiled.
"Why do all these people ask me to write things?" he exclaimed. "Not that it happens every day," he hastened to say.
"Because you write so well! For a man," she teased.
"For a man?" he repeated.
"Yes, I think they all write very badly," Georgiana said boldly.
"Georgiana! Who are the they you speak of? As your guardian I demand to know who the gentlemen are who correspond with you," Richard said seriously. "This will not do at all." Georgiana turned red and he winked at her. "I have instructed you too well. You know very well why you are not allowed to correspond with gentlemen. Poor old Darcy would have a fit."
"You write to me too," Georgiana protested.
"What are the two of you whispering there, Richard?" Lady Matlock called. "Georgiana, dear, will you play for us?"
"Already?" she asked nervously.
Caroline leant towards her. "Do not worry. Nobody else can play, so they cannot but think you play wonderfully, even if you play ill, and you will not. You can do it."
When Georgiana started playing the twins were rather frightened by the music, so Richard took them back upstairs. The rest listened, or thought.
Part 52
As the evening ended, those who had been wondering about the poem still had not come much closer to discovering the author and the recipient. Their ideas had been swayed, rather. Anne and Lady Matlock did not know what to think anymore, and Georgiana, who had come to the conclusion that Caroline spoke only half-truths where Richard was concerned, was now completely convinced that it had indeed been Richard who had written the poem. Colonel Marsden did not think upon the poem at all, and Baxter of course had no reason to wonder about its author.
Baxter was the last to leave. "Would you want your poem back?" Richard asked.
"Oh! I had forgotten about it!"
"Young love is so constant," Richard sighed. "Do you want it?"
"Yes, please," said Baxter, whose love was indeed so constant that he was quite ready to bestow it upon somebody other than the lady in the blue gown he dreamt of every night. Or rather, the lady in the blue gown he had dreamt of every night until this one. Tonight he would dream of another lady, he felt it in his bones, and this lady would receive the poem. She was a much better choice, anyhow, for now at least he knew where she lived, and he knew her name, although he would not be allowed to use it yet.
"Do not move while I get it."
Baxter stayed where he was, and he was rewarded with the sight of his newly-appointed dream object as she climbed the stairs. He would not even have been able to move, transfixed as he was.
"Here it is," Richard said, handing over the note. He thought it wisest not to mention the mysterious third author. Such a revelation would only make Baxter embarrassed. Richard would have been mortified if anyone had found out about his growing affection for Miss Bingley, so he had hidden it from everyone, including himself. He had even been mortified when it turned out that a few girls had known about the sonnet, so he could imagine how Baxter would feel.
"Thank you," said Baxter. "Oh! How long it is. I think I like it. It is better than what I can come up with, at any rate."
"One more thing. I think you should ascribe it to an anonymous author, other than yourself, in case your lady takes it too literally and starts protesting when you do not dream of her every night."
"But I do!"
"You may not always."
"I shall take your word for it, since you are older, Lord Matlock," Baxter said reverently.
"Very good, and what did your sister think of your own attempts? Did you show them to her like I told you?" Richard thought Baxter had not. Miss Baxter would not have let him go out with those four meagre lines.
"No, I did not," Baxter confessed. "She was a bit cross with me already, and I did not want to have her laugh at me too. I am not going to show this to her either. She will never believe it. Good night."
"Good night." Richard went up the stairs wondering what would come of Baxter's attempts at wooing, and why Baxter had not asked Bingley or some other proficient. He did not know if Caroline considered herself to be wooed or tricked or forced or jested into marriage, but he was sure that the average lady would not have considered it proper wooing. But then, he also did not care what the average lady thought of it. He had nothing to do with average ladies.
He had to ask his confidante if she had tampered with the poem, so he went to her while she was getting ready for bed. "Caroline?"
"Wait," Caroline said, and gave her maid a few last instructions. "Yes?"
"That poem," he began. If she had seen the poem, she would know what he spoke of.
"Ah yes, I added two lines to it. I hope you do not mind? I wrote they were bad -- in the margin," Caroline apologised.
"In the margin? And only two lines?" Richard was puzzled.
"Are we not speaking of the same poem?" Caroline turned. "Oh dear! Did I add to somebody else's poem?"
Part 53
Lord and Lady Matlock discussed the mystery of the copied and expanded poem, and they concluded that Georgiana was the culprit, since she had been going on about handwritings. That matter satisfactorily concluded, they went on to discuss Anne and Colonel Marsden.
"I did not see anything extraordinary in his address to her," Caroline said.
"Well, he did look at her once."
"Once!"
"One meaningful gaze is worth more than a hundred meaningless ones," Richard oracled.
"But was it meaningful?"
"I do not know that. Not to me, but I am not Anne."
"Give me a meaningful gaze then, so I can decide if it really was meaningful," Caroline ordered. "Imitate Colonel Marsden."
Richard obeyed.
"Hmm. That is not meaningful -- that is quizzical, doubting, puzzled, wondering..."
While her host and hostess were in bed chatting away until the early hours of the morning, Anne lay awake in silence. She liked Colonel Marsden very much indeed. She did not know many gentlemen, but she had not known any one she liked better. Her cousins had been observing her constantly, and it had been rather unnerving. She had not dared to speak much to the Colonel at all, and only ventured a few glances at him, afraid as she was to monopolise his attentions and betray too much of her feelings. She was not quite sure of her feelings, and she wondered if it would help to talk to somebody about it. Caroline would not be the right person -- Anne was still a little afraid of her -- Georgiana was too young, but her aunt would perhaps be a good person to talk to.
Lady Catherine was having a grand time in Bath. She had only been there a few days, but she had already decided that her stay was successful. Extremely successful. A letter to Anne was already on its way, and though it would not be difficult to understand that Lady Catherine was enjoying herself very much, it would be impossible to gather from the letter that Lady Catherine's situation resembled Anne's in many ways.
The Dowager Lady Matlock marveled at the improvement of her two nieces. Georgiana and Anne had changed considerably. A year ago they would neither of them have opened their mouth in company, and now Georgiana had grown rather impertinent.
Anne was not impertinent, and probably never would be, but she was now capable of holding a conversation in a voice that was audible. She had changed in appearance too -- she looked much healthier. And Colonel Marsden liked Anne. It was quite obvious to Lady Matlock. She had known him for ages, because he had been a friend of her son for a long time.
"Was it fun?" Elizabeth asked Georgiana.
"I played!" Georgiana said proudly.
"Very good!"
Georgiana giggled. "The twins did not like my performance very much, and my cousin had to take them back upstairs."
"They were there?" Elizabeth exclaimed.
"They are always there," Georgiana answered. Suddenly a thought entered her mind. "Elizabeth," she whispered. "I cannot see William always carrying a baby around, can you?"
Elizabeth snorted. "No."
Part 54
Caroline and Anne were on a little excursion out of Town with Georgiana and Elizabeth, Lady Matlock was spending the day with her daughter, and Darcy had gone to visit his cousin out of boredom. He wished his cousin would not always have those babies with him when he came for a man-to-man chat.
"Fitzwilliam," he said, eyeing the babies suspiciously after he had made a rather stupid remark at which his cousin had laughed heartily. "How much of what I say do they understand?"
"Everything," Richard said gravely, to tease Darcy. "Why?"
"They are laughing at me for being ignorant about infants. Look at those smug little smiles. It is very clear what they are thinking."
"Yes, Uncle Darcy is stupid, is he not?" Richard said to James, and he tickled him to make him laugh, without Darcy seeing it. James laughed and Darcy looked put out. "Brighten up, Darcy. They are only laughing because they always enjoy it when it is only us men and we can do lots of men things."
"But one of them is a girl!" Darcy pointed out. "Or so I thought?"
"Oh really? Well, she has never complained about that to me." A footman entered and announced that Colonel Marsden would like to speak to his Lordship very briefly and in private. "Ah, Darcy. May I impose on you? I shall be right back. Tell them a story or something."
Before Darcy could object, his cousin had dumped both children on his lap and he had left the room, leaving Darcy to sit there rigidly with two babies who promptly started to cry, because they had been left with a stranger. Darcy looked down in horror. How was he going to get them to stop? "Sssshh!" he said to no avail. "Be quiet!" he said sternly. "Be quiet," he said in a softer tone. "Oh, please! Please? I am your uncle! Well, not quite, but I am family anyway."
"I have a question," Marsden announced. "I shall not take up much of your time."
"Oh, that is quite all right. I have left the children with Darcy, so I do not think he will miss me. He can play with them," said the optimistic Richard.
"Well, I..."
Richard waited patiently.
"I..."
"You...?"
"I happen to...umm..." Colonel Marsden paced the library. He halted in front of the window. "Are the ladies at home?"
"No, they are out."
"Good."
"What is it?" a mystified Richard asked. "Does your question have anything to do with them?"
"Well, yes."
"What did you want to ask me then?"
"I wanted to ask you...umm...how one knows....if..."
"If one likes a lady?" Richard finished the sentence.
"No, I want to know if she likes me," said Marsden, keeping his eyes on the window.
"I think," Richard said carefully, trying to suppress a broad grin, "that I would have to know which lady you refer to. Do I know her?"
"Yes."
"That does not help me much, Marsden. You have to tell me who she is," he said patiently.
"Your cousin."
"I have several cousins. Female cousins, I mean. And you have met two of them."
"I meant your cousin Miss De Bourgh," the Colonel coloured slightly.
Richard could not stop himself from grinning anymore. "Anne!"
Part 55
Darcy had relaxed from his paralysed state a little. He had discovered that the children would not fall if he sat a little more comfortably, so he leaned back and warily stared at the two unhappy little faces, wishing he could plug his ears.
"Hush!" He placed his finger on his mouth to show them they had to shut up, but they did not seem to understand. He placed his finger on one of the babies' mouths. Perhaps that would work better. Julia thought it was food, and she was very quick to open her mouth and grab the thing with her little fingers. Darcy found his finger being sucked and bitten on. "Hey!" he exclaimed, and he wanted to retrieve his finger, but he dared not. He was too afraid of hurting a little Fitzwilliam, however close a friend and cousin their father might be. "Let go of my finger!"
James had not been idle. He had seen that Uncle Darcy had some very nice things on his coat that he could pull at. Unfortunately they would not come off, and he looked higher, to Darcy's cravat. He giggled and babbled in delight, as if he knew that Darcy would not have any hands free to prevent him from doing anything.
"Do not touch me," Darcy articulated very clearly, but all he received in return was a very innocent look.
Richard grinned again. "This is too amusing."
"How so?" Marsden demanded.
"It is a private joke. Are you interested in Anne?"
"Perhaps," said Marsden.
"If you are interested in her opinion of you, then I would say you were."
"All right then. Yes, I am." If Marsden had not known Fitzwilliam could be trusted -- provided that he was not fed a bottle of whiskey -- he would never have disclosed this information.
"Wonderful!"
Colonel Marsden coughed. He wanted to get back to the essentials, and his friend's perpetual grin was beginning to get on his nerves. "But I do not know what she thinks of me," he reminded him.
"Ah, well then you must find out."
"But that is what I am doing!" Marsden cried out helplessly.
"Not from me! How would I know what Anne thinks of you? She does not confide in me, and it is difficult to see what she is thinking."
"Could you not try? Perhaps she told your wife."
Richard shook his head. "Caroline would have told me." He grinned again. Caroline would certainly have told him if her little scheme had worked. But she had not, and therefore Anne had not told Caroline anything. "But I shall try to find out."
"Thank you."
Richard hesitated. "But I...umm...must warn you. She has a...mother."
"Most of us do," replied the Colonel undaunted.
"This is not your average mother. This is Lady Catherine De Bourgh. Of Rosings Park, no less."
"And?"
"She is...my aunt."
"I had guessed as much," Marsden said dryly.
"She is a bit...difficult."
"I do not believe it," the Colonel said with conviction. "Anyone with Miss De Bourgh's character could not have a difficult mother."
"She does not resemble Anne," Richard tried to explain in polite terms. "She likes to decide things."
"Such as?"
"Such as everything you can imagine."
Colonel Marsden shrugged. "Well, that is a pity. I decide my own things."
They then started to try to interpret everything Anne had said and done, to see if they could discover anything, and Richard did not once joke about it. Since he had decided that Darcy was playing with the twins, he was in no hurry to return before he and Marsden had finished.
"You must not tell your wife," Marsden begged him when he was leaving.
"But I tell her everything!" Richard protested.
"Not this. It is bad enough that one other person knows, and women are notorious for their indiscretion."
"Yes, they are only second to men," Richard remarked sarcastically. "If you want everyone to know, tell my brother-in-law. His channels reach all the way into Hertfordshire. I cannot promise you that I will not tell her, because she is remarkably good at having me say things I do not want to say. But it is good that she is not here, or she would have inquired after the reasons for your visit. Only Darcy is here, but I suspect he is too busy playing with the children to wonder."
"Darcy? Ha!" said Marsden, and he left laughing. He could not imagine it.
Part 56
When Richard returned to the drawing room, he found his cousin exhausted and his children sleeping on the couch. "I am sorry I stayed away so long. It was a matter of great importance. I hope they did not give you too much trouble," he apologised, purely because it was polite to say so -- he did not really believe that they might have troubled Darcy.
Darcy contemplated complaining that they had half-undressed him and drooled all over his coat, but he feared his cousin would laugh at him for not being able to control two infants. They had exhausted themselves so much that they had finally fallen asleep and given him the chance to undo the damaging results of their play. He gave a weak smile and said nothing.
"Aww," said the father, looking down. "Two little angels when they are asleep."
"Hmm," Darcy answered. And two little devils when they are awake. He observed Richard lifting one up. "Fitzwilliam! You fool! Do not wake them. They were finally harmless!" he betrayed himself.
"They are always harmless," Richard replied and he shot Darcy an inquisitive look. Apparently things had not gone very smoothly here. He had to get to the bottom of this. It was too good a chance to pass up.
Upon hearing her father's voice Julia awoke and started to cry. "Now look what you did!" Darcy cried in an agitated manner.
"Do not fret, old man. She is just happy to see me. Were you not nice to her?" Richard teased, managing to quiet the baby within seconds by saying "sshhh."
"She is crying because you woke her, and I was very nice to her," Darcy said defensively. How does he get her to shut up? I said that too! Why does it not work when I say it?
"Good! You will not object to feeding her then," Richard grinned.
Darcy looked horrified. "It is not a man's task! Have you no servants?"
"Yes, we have several, but I am afraid my little darlings are quite particular. They do not like to be fed by anyone who is not a relative, and since there are two of them, and we are the only relatives present, we shall have to do it." He was not entirely truthful, but he liked to tease Darcy. "I think they resemble me. I am also quite particular about people feeding me."
"Over my dead body."
Richard shrugged. "Very well. If you are afraid..."
"I am not afraid. It is just that I think it is something that I should not do."
"You had better never have any children then."
"I want children," Darcy protested.
Richard pulled a face. "Who is that gentleman who always flees when I am hungry, Mama?" he mimicked a child. "He is your father, dear. What is a father, Mama?"
"Fitzwilliam! Stop being so annoying and stop trying to turn me into a nanny," Darcy spat out.
"Really! I would never hire you as a nanny in a million years!" Richard laughed. "But I was only teasing you, Darcy! Your coat is much too fine to be soiled. We all have our little particularities, and I know you are particularly particular about the state of your coat, so I would never subject you to mashed foodstuffs, because they would undoubtedly find their way to prominent spots on your coat."
Darcy did not know if he had to be relieved or offended, so he merely looked very sheepish.
"Now look," said Richard as he rang the bell. "I shall arrange for someone to give them their mashed meal, and because they are sleeping afterwards you and I can go to the club."
"But you said they do not like being fed by anybody else," Darcy said with a relieved look.
"Oh," said Richard vaguely. "They have their favourites, surely, but they are not stupid, you know. Food is food."