A Summer Shame (6 page)

"Concentrate on holding your own balance. It's important to find your natural seat and find a rhythm with your mount."

Feeling ridiculous, Elizabeth tried to find what Mr. Darcy called her natural seat, but wondered if she was failing miserably. At last he urged her to close her eyes and let go of the horse's mane.

"Are you mad? I shall fall!"

Darcy stopped the horse's leisurely walk and reached to touch his wife's gloved hands. "I shall not let you fall. Trust me."

With a deep breath Elizabeth released the mane and closed her eyes. She heard Mr. Darcy click his tongue and at first, she was desperately afraid of falling but squeezed the pommel with her right knee. She still found the entire exercise unsettling and once she endured a few rounds, Mr. Darcy stopped the lesson to change saddles.

"Will you ride Zanzibar?"

Darcy laughed. "Heavens no, I'm too tall for him. Tell me, how did you like riding?"

Elizabeth wrinkled up her nose, an expression she knew her husband found enduring. "Unpleasant I'm afraid. Papa tried to teach me, but I never took well to the lessons."

"I was hoping you would say that," he whispered into her ear as he bent down for a quick kiss on her cheek. Her husband removed the sidesaddle and accepted a smaller, astride saddle from the groom before he disappeared back into the stable. Again, Elizabeth was instructed on how to buckle the saddle and about placement.

"I must say, you never explained why I must know how to saddle the horse on my own. I confess I am curious."

Darcy sighed, surprised Elizabeth could not guess. "To ride a horse is freedom. It is a necessity, a luxury, and at times, the only means of escape. I will not have any women of my protection unable to harness and ride all means of transportation available to them."

"Does this mean you will teach me to drive the curricle?" Elizabeth brightened at such a possibility as she dearly hoped to one day drive a gig of her own.

"Learn to ride a horse first, dear."

Astride Zanzibar, Elizabeth Darcy sat like a queen. She moved easily in tune with Zanzibar, and before too long, her husband had even given her the reins to walk and trot around the paddock a few times on her own.

By the end of the lesson, her hindquarters were most sore, but she had great pride in conquering her fear of horses. More important to her was the way her husband gazed at her, a mixture of pride and lust that she found intoxicating. If riding a horse could inspire such feelings in him, she would gladly endure a sore posterior every day of the week.

Gingerly, Edward Gardiner inhaled deeply and released the edge of the credenza he was holding in the hall. He legs wobbled, but he remained upright. His wife and a few longtime servants of the family began to clap and cheer.

"That's it, darling, you're doing wonderfully!"

He grimaced a smile to his adoring wife, and took a step, pausing to breathe shallowly for a moment. His ribs still ached some and his leg atrophied from his accident four months ago.

"Mr. Gardiner, you've won the day, sir. Only a few more!" The butler Kline encouraged his employer, standing behind him in case the man should fall.

With great concentration, and keeping any cries of pain buried deep in his gut, Mr. Gardiner took the five more steps he needed to reach his wife. As she grasped his arms in her own and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, she related to him how proud she was of his recovery.

"I told you I would walk again before the babe was born. I meant it." Tears glistened in his own eyes, both from the exertion and this milestone of him leaving his sick room. He could not return to work quite yet, but spending part of the day in the parlor was on the schedule for him to keep the doctor at bay.

Madeline Gardiner patted her rounded belly, feeling the babe move under her hand. "Mmmm, I do believe this one might not be too far longer . . ."

As the Gardiners settled in the parlor, the arrival of Miss Mary Bennet was announced, and Madeline held her husband's arm to keep him from trying to rise. "You've done enough, dear. Do not overtax yourself."

"That is what I frequently say to you!" He playfully swatted at the back of his wife's dress as his niece entered the room with the jubilant couple.

"Edward!" Madeline turned around, pretending to be shocked.

"Good morning, Aunt, Uncle. I am so happy to see you up and about!" Mary beamed at the sight of her uncle on the sofa as she took a seat in the arm chair. Greetings exchanged, Mary removed her gloves as a servant brought a tray of refreshments. The young woman was excited to see her uncle's progress, but felt disappointed to not secure a private visit with her aunt. Mary nibbled a biscuit and filled her family in on the latest developments regarding Jane.

"She honestly struck him? I must say, I am impressed." Mr. Gardiner smiled as he gazed out the window to the bustling street beyond. He errantly tapped his injured leg with his thumb, thinking how long until he might return to his offices. He trusted Darcy's man to help his clerk, but there was something emasculating about relying on another's work for his livelihood. If this was the life of a gentleman, he was quite content to remain in trade. His wife's piercing gaze made him realize he had not attended the conversation. "Pardon me, you were saying?"

"I thought for sure you'd be most anxious to attend to your office by now." Madeline Gardiner gave her husband a sly wink to make sure he knew she was not sending him away, but that the ladies needed a few moments alone.

"Yes, yes, I must review those latest figures." Edward Gardiner nodded to his niece and motioned for the footman's assistance. He resolved privately that by the end of the week he would be in possession of a fine walking stick. The potential re-injury of falling by attempting to walk on his own again was well worth the embarrassment of needing a strong arm for support.

His wife wasted no time, once the ladies were alone, to gently pat the sofa next to her. Obediently, Mary rose to join her aunt as she turned her upper body to face her niece. "Now, talk to me about the Colonel."

Mary gasped. "How did you, how did you know?"

Pursing her lips, her aunt wore an amused expression. Madeline Gardiner smiled to think all young people were so similar, so wrapped up in their own lives that they failed to consider those older and wiser had faced similar trials of the heart, too. "My dear, your eyes light up when he walks into the room. I do believe you dropped your silverware three times when we last dined at Matlock House."

Mary hung her head, ashamed her wanton behavior was visible to all. Her aunt crooked a finger and lifted her chin. "There is no reason to be ashamed. You are blossoming into a vivacious young woman and he is a handsome match."

"But I am excitable around him and I am too poor! I shall not fall like Lydia!"

Confused, Madeline used a few moments of silence that a sip of tea afforded to work through Mary's outburst. How had she moved from rejection to fear of compromise? Was there information she did not hold? "Have you . . ." she cleared her throat to make her tone as non-judgmental as she could manage, "Have you permitted him liberties?"

Mary shook her head, then whispered, "I desire his attentions and that is a sin and a wrong I must carry. As the woman, it is my burden to not tempt his baser instincts and I fear I am failing."

"Mary. Mary! I should hope by now you would stop using Fordyce's Sermons as the measure of manners for a young lady! Heavens!" Exasperated, Mrs. Gardiner blew out a breath and smoothed a curl behind her ear.

Restoring her calm, she grasped Mary's hands and held them tightly. "You are a beautiful, kind, vibrant young woman and any suitor would be blessed to have you as his wife. The feelings you fear are the stirrings of love. Certainly, your behavior must reflect proper decorum for you both, but there is nothing wrong with feeling attracted to the Colonel."

Mary closed her eyes and considered if all her feelings for Richard were lustful. She imagined him hurt and a deep melancholy washed over her. She remembered his teases and verbal taunts when they were in mixed company, and her heart felt light. Opening her eyes, she gave her aunt a curious look. "How do I show him affection? How do I demonstrate the depth of my feelings?"

Mrs. Gardiner released her niece's hands to take another sip of tea. To explain this part was tricky. Finally, she arrived at an explanation. "Your interest and genuine support of his interests will carry the point. A woman's good opinion is one craving all men suffer, but do not recognize so until they have it."

She could see Mary absorbed her words and began thinking of ways to implement her advice. Leaving the young girl a little privacy to her life, she changed the subject. "Have you heard from Lizzie?"

"Lydia is being a complete pill!" Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Forgive me, but her behavior vexes Lizzie to no end and she holds no remorse so that I fear she is trying everyone's patience. Oh, but Mr. Darcy has taught Lizzie how to ride. Astride!"

Madeline Gardiner coughed as she stifled a laugh at Mary's choice to omit the word horse. "I'm sure the horse back riding is giving them plenty of reason to quit the house with Lydia inside."

Calmer, Mary realized she was suddenly quite hungry as she had arrived at her aunt's home with her stomach in knots. She hungrily devoured a biscuit before explaining. "Yes, they've ridden to their neighbor, Mr. Graham Hamilton, and she wishes me to find father's book on sheep." Mary wrinkled her nose in an expression reminiscent of her older sister. "Something about Mr. Darcy believes her ignorant on the subject of sheep and knowing Lizzie, she won't tolerate any lack of knowledge on her part."

"I believe your uncle may help you locate the tome in your father's collection in his study." Mary requested with a gesture if she might be excused and her aunt nodded.

As soon as Mary quit the room, Madeline Gardiner winced in pain as the little one growing within moved too high in her middle. Pressing firmly with both hands, it took a moment, but eventually the babe acquiesced to his mother's demands. "Stubborn already, Lord help me." She knew it would not be too much longer now and left to find Cook to add more to the evening's meal in case Mary wished to stay.

Chapter Six

Door slams and raised, shrill voices punctuated Fitzwilliam Darcy's afternoon, every afternoon. He continued to scratch at his desk when a few moments later, his lovely wife appeared in his doorway, breathless and with a few strands of hair out of place.

"Fitzwilliam, I am at my wits' end with that girl. I try to placate her, try to cheer her, and each attempt devolves into her blaming me for her every misfortune!"

Elizabeth Darcy entered the study and collapsed into the sofa in a most unladylike manner. Darcy looked her over out of the corner of his eye, aroused by the site of her flushed appearance, yet equally sympathetic to her plight. After all, it was his own plight as well.

"Perhaps we ought to pack our trunks and leave her in Scotland to deliver the babe? I do not wish for Miss Lydia's childish manners to further injure my family." His eyes darkened as he imagined the young woman, screaming in pain and alone, feeling in his heart it was not an action he could take, no matter how trying her behavior had become.

Elizabeth's mouth dropped in horror. "I could never leave her! She is a spoiled brat, but she does not deserve to be abandoned." She inspected a loose thread in her skirt, making a mental note to show the flaw to Becky. The tartan fabric was one of her favorite frocks and one she intended to keep as a reminder of the happiness she had managed on her honeymoon.

Sighing, she began to explain her main dilemma. "I only wish I were not alone to take the brunt of Lydia's anger. I never was her favorite and I feel so helplessly miserable in failing to offer her the empathy she needs." Elizabeth shook her head and rose from the sofa, walking over to her little desk they fashioned next to his to peruse her correspondence. An invitation to Mr. Graham Hamilton's Blaylock House to dine in a fortnight caught her attention and she carefully fingered the rough edge.

She glanced at her husband, jubilant he had sorted the piece of mail to her domain, a small but lovely reminder as his wife, it was for her to set their social calendar. She was about to ask him if he wished to attend, but stopped herself when she saw him pinch his temples and stare at his own desk. Realizing she was delegated the task and she must have interrupted his work, she bowed her head and made excuses to review the evening's menu with Cook.

Darcy shook off his thoughts and stood for his wife's exit, but grasped her hand to bestow a kiss before she left. As she offered him a flirtatious giggle and  in return he bowed, then winked at her. He watched as she swished her skirts on her way out, and snapped his fingers as soon as she was gone, suddenly struck by a solution.

Pulling out a clean sheet of parchment, since this missive had far to travel, he mended his quill to a fresh point. Dipping the pen into the new pot of ink, he smiled as he remembered there were other family members he could rely upon to help shoulder the burdens. He began his letter in earnest:

My Dearest Sister Jane,

I hope the London Season has treated you well and you have found some enjoyment in the endeavor. I write to you in confidence to beg your assistance . . .