The Darcys and the Sirens' Songs Read online

  “Good! Redemption is good! Now as to Caroline – oh, my,” Kitty responded.

  “Well, yes!” They chuckled so loud, the babies startled and began to cry.

  “This has been fun, but I am going home. Keep Lydia busy.”

  “I shall,” Kitty said, giving Tommy a last kiss and a hug, just as Elizabeth handed Eleanor, the future Nell, to her mother with a tickle under her chin.

  *****

  And so it was that on December 21st, Lydia arrived at #4 Park Lane in the small Darcy carriage that had been sent to Scotland to pick her up. Her trunk was not, however, unloaded. After a late lunch, Elizabeth would accompany Lydia to Kitty’s. Elizabeth would ride back to Park Lane in the carriage. Lydia would not need it again until one of the Darcy drivers picked her up at Jane’s to return her to school, just after the new year.

  Before starting out for Kitty’s, Elizabeth took Lydia up to the nursery to be introduced to her new nephew, Robin Thomas George Darcy. “My, heavens, he has enough names for a prince,” Lydia said, smirking. She picked up the baby and held him cautiously almost at arm’s length.

  “He is a prince, as far as the Bennets and Darcys are concerned,” Elizabeth countered, with a slight confrontational edge to her voice, as if daring Lydia to disagree.

  “Robin? Is he named for a bird?” Lydia asked, giggling, but with a tone of slight derision.

  “Actually, yes,” Elizabeth said, already tired of Lydia’s attitude to the extent that she was unwilling to tell her sister of her fright when six month’s pregnant, due to the wreck which eventually killed their mother, a fright which Darcy mitigated by his suggestion that they pick names for the little Darcy-to-be and the subsequent sound of the robin outside the window, which brought forth the name Robin, whether a girl or a boy was born.

  “We, however, call him Tommy.”

  “Oh, ho! Better I say to call him a nickname for our father Thomas than some random bird,” Lydia said.

  Elizabeth, whose fair complexion was beginning to turn a slight red with consternation at this conversation, took her son from Lydia and, after a kiss on his cheek, handed him to Donna, the nursery maid.

  “Time to go, Lydia. You have three nieces to meet,” Elizabeth said, gently edging her toward the door of the nursery.

  On the way to Kitty’s, only a few blocks away, Lydia commented, “If I had married Wickham or had not annulled my marriage to Denny, I might have a child or two myself by now.”

  “We know,” Elizabeth answered, struggling to keep gratitude out of her tone—since gratitude was the whole family’s primary response to the luck which had allowed that particular scenario not to occur—a scenario which might have brought misfortune to the Longbourn inheritance.

  When the carriage arrived at the Fitzwilliams’, Lydia and Elizabeth alighted, while Arnold started to unhitch the horses to take them on a stroll in nearby Hyde Park. Joey carried Lydia’s trunk into the front hall, where a Fitzwilliam footman took over.

  “Joey, go help Arnold take the horses to the park. I know the ones who came from Scotland got a romp, but these two have been in the Park Lane stables without a break for several days. They need a little freedom of expression.”

  Elizabeth smiled brilliantly at her footman. He nodded happily and returned to the carriage out front. “What a lovely, thoughtful lady,” Joey said to Arnold, as they led the horses away.

  “None better,” Arnold agreed. “I assume you mean Mrs. Darcy,” he suddenly added, “and not that sister of hers.”

  “I do. I got a rude tongue lashing by that one at least twice a day on our way down from Scotland”

  “As did I. I’m just hoping Lance or Duncan get to drive her back. Turnabout is fair play and all,” Arnold said, as he led the horses to a grassy fenced enclosure, the size of a farmland field.

  “Do tell. I am saying a prayer for the same relief. It couldn’t be a sacrilege to hope Travis or Kerry get yelled at on her way back to Downe Academy,” Joey said, laughing heartily, as he climbed on the white board fence to keep an eye on their charges.

  *****

  “Come on up, Lizzy, Lydia,” Kitty shouted from the top of the second floor staircase. “Nell just woke up and wants a meal. Then we’ll have our tea.”

  Lydia and Elizabeth relaxed in Kitty’s upstairs sitting room, while Kitty happily fed her infant. Then she introduced the baby to Lydia, saying “Aunt Lydia meet Miss Francine Eleanor Anne Olivia, more briefly known as Nell.”

  “Hello, Nell. What’s with all those names?” she asked abruptly.

  Kitty, refusing to take offense this early in Lydia’s visit, replied, “The grandmothers and the great-grandmothers on the Fitzwilliam side. Now all I have to do is honor the great-grandmothers on the Bennet side and I can commence on the names of my own and Richard’s choosing.”

  “How droll. And what might those be?” Lydia asked, interested, before answering her own question with a haughty “I’d like a namesake. How about Lydia? Or I’d say Aunt Catherine de Borough would be thrilled. You two share the same name. And I’m confident her daughter Anne will never choose it.”

  Kitty, already wishing that Lydia was far away in Scotland, replied rather heartlessly, “Actually, I was leaning more toward Elizabeth or Jane,” a statement which was reinforced by its truth.

  “Oh,” Lydia said feebly.

  “Shall we go down for some tea? Nell is sound asleep and ready for some quiet during her afternoon nap.”

  When they arrived in the parlor, Lydia walked around the room, picking up this Fitzwilliam miniature or that porcelain shepherdess. “Such treasures,” she said with genuine admiration.

  “We think so,” Kitty said warily. She knew she would have to do an inventory when Lydia left for the week at Jane’s. It was important to the family to avoid a theft, which would allow Lydia the funds to purchase her distance from Downe Academy.

  However, Jane would probably do no such inventory. Jane was the practical sister. And Jane’s patience, which was legendary, was also at an end. “Let her go,” Jane had informed her sisters, when it had been decided to bring Lydia to London for Christmas. “If she refuses to take advantage of that superior school, let her go. None of the rest of us four sisters got such an advantage.”

  “True,” Mary had answered. “And each of us would have gotten something uniquely ours from that renowned institution. Downe Academy has it all. It heralds tradition, while instilling creativity, perfect for Kitty. It enhances scholarship, while promoting individual attainment, our Lizzy personified. It exudes excellence in all genres, while accepting the potential for possible mediocrity in some, yours truly,” Mary said, singling herself out for the latter criticism. “And as for our Jane, both kindly with a heart of love, yet practical to the extreme of cutting useless ties, the Downe Academy would have met its match for a model—a model for living the life we are given.”

  Mary’s explanation was so attune to the realities they too recognized, that the other three sisters clapped. They accepted that Lydia might never change and would either choose a man, worthy or unworthy, or would be constantly housed at one of their abodes for all their lives. Robin Thomas George Darcy was their salvation. They would accept supporting Lydia. They could all afford it. But she would never now own and/ or destroy their ancestral home, Longbourn.

  A maid brought in tea. Kitty, Elizabeth and Lydia sat around the tea table, eating finger sandwiches and sipping their brew. For a short time no one said anything, enjoying the peace of quietude. Finally, Lydia, not one to endure the silence of her own voice for long, said, “How could you and Father allow Mother to die?”

  The other two stared at her, not comprehending Lydia’s query and so having no response. After a moment of silence, Lydia continued, “I should have been called home to attend her. You were all in London, having babies.”

  “We thought she was very improved by the end of September. Mother, Mary and I enjoyed a wonderful month together.”

  “Sure. I bet,” Lydia an
swered sarcastically.

  “Lydia, where is this leading? The doctor, the professional with the most important point of view, approved of Mother’s progress,” Kitty said. “Apparently, there was a damaged blood vessel in her brain, which no one, even our medical experts, could detect. The doctor thinks it simply burst one day.”

  “Nothing could have saved her, Lydia,” Elizabeth answered. “Especially not you,” she wished to add, but refrained, continuing instead with, “You must now work hard at Downe Academy, to fulfill Mother’s very ardent wish, that you, her favorite, would have a rewarding life.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes,” Kitty continued, picking up the thread, “the challenge to meet her expectations for your future can be your legacy to her.”

  “Oh?”

  “Only you can accomplish that dream,” Elizabeth added.

  “Yes, Mother is in Heaven, looking down,” Kitty said, laying on an additional layer of potential progress or guilt. “Let her see you secure and happy.”

  Elizabeth finally said,” I have to go home to Tommy and Fitzwilliam.”

  “That’s fine, Lizzy. Lydia needs to unpack and relax after her long journey. Tomorrow is a busy day.”

  “Busy? Good. Are we going shopping?”

  “No. We are going to iron the Christmas linens.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Elizabeth left satisfied Kitty would rule the day. She knew Lydia best, after all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Fitzwilliam Darcy was intrigued at how today would proceed, in fact at how the whole week would proceed. For the first time ever, the Darcys would host the Wickhams. The invitation had grown out of two disparate events.

  The first had been Darcy and his friends’ trip to Brighton to address Wickham’s complicity in the attack on Darcy’s brother-in-law, Bruce Lawton, an Anglican priest and a future duke of the realm. At that conference Darcy and Wickham had decided to give friendship another try.

  The second instance was the decision of the Darcys and the Bingleys not to travel to Derbyshire for Christmas, after the children’s births, as originally planned. The reason: Mrs. Bennet’s death and the desire to stay close to the Bennet family for Christmas. The Bennets, the Gardiners and the Phillips all needed each other.

  With family the focus, Bingley had encouraged his sister Louisa, and brother-in-law Gilbert Hurst and their toddler Gil to come to London for the Christmas festivities. After serious discussions, the consensus became to also include Charles Bingley’s other sister Caroline and her husband George Wickham. At this point it seemed imperative to also bring Lydia Bennet back from Scotland for two weeks. How could they justify leaving the final sister so far away?

  Georgiana was at Pemberley. She, Bruce, and the Earl and Countess of Matlock, as well as Viscount Anthony, would not only be together, they could also efficiently see to the purchase and delivery of the gifts for the tenants and the needy. Ellen Fitzwilliam was the force behind that annual charity any way.

  So all Darcy had to worry about was entertaining Caroline, his beloved Elizabeth’s nemesis, without bursting out in a string of curses, and solidifying his new relationship with his childhood friend George. He and Elizabeth had discussed the situation at length.

  Elizabeth had sent a note inviting Caroline to go on a shopping trip, an excursion that Caroline had requested just this autumn, when Elizabeth had been eight months pregnant and not interested in buying clothes. Would Caroline still wish to go now that Elizabeth was slim again? Elizabeth was eager to go to Madam de Pres’ haute couture establishment; she needed a temporary wardrobe to fit her current voluptuous figure. Elizabeth didn’t know if Caroline would want to accompany her and she didn’t care. Elizabeth certainly hoped that Caroline might choose to lunch with her friends some of the days of their visit, because Fitzwilliam and George would often be missing, shopping for presents for Christmas, fencing at Darcy’s athletic club or lingering around White’s, shooting billiards and playing whist.

  The Darcys had come up with a viable and enjoyable plan for most evenings. They had purchased tickets for a Drury Lane play and for a concert at the British Museum. They intended to entertain the Wickhams with a dinner at the Ritz and of course at their own Christmas dinner for the family. Caroline was, after all, family, whether they liked admitting it or not. Darcy had arranged for the Wickhams, as well as the rest of their family, to receive an invitation to the Duke of Sheffield’s ball on December the twenty-eighth. Then the next day the Wickhams would leave for a house party at the Wyatts in Kent.

  Each of Elizabeth’s sisters had volunteered to invite Caroline on an outing during her stay at Park Lane. The details were being worked out, but Elizabeth knew tomorrow she was to host Caroline, hence the idea of a shopping trip. Darcy had promised that any other day Caroline was not invited out with friends or family, he and George would stay home and do something as couples, like ride in Hyde Park, if the weather allowed, or sing around the piano or read before the fire. Tomorrow, however, Darcy wanted Wickham alone, so that his intention to renew their friendship would not be thwarted by the officious Caroline. Hesitantly, Darcy had nonetheless offered, “We can stay home with you tomorrow also, if you wish, my love.”

  “No. I need some new clothes,” Elizabeth insisted. “And, as we discussed last week, Caroline asked me to take her shopping in London, only a few weeks ago. So shopping she shall go.” Elizabeth winked. “I think we will shop in the morning and then go to some popular locale for lunch, where she might see some of her friends. Or – hmm – I think I’ll see if she wishes any of her friends to join us on our shopping escapade and/ or later for lunch.”

  “New clothes? Spring or winter?”

  “Actually, I wish Madame de Pres to alter the ones I wore when I was pregnant. I am too buxom right now and my waist is still too wide for my former wardrobe. And since I plan to nurse Tommy for six months, I will not return to my former shape until summer. However, the dresses I had designed for the late stages of pregnancy are way too huge now.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “You shall not take Caroline on such a shopping excursion. You would never hear the last of her disparagements at your remaking your maternity attire.”

  “I had not thought of that, but of course you are quite prescient, as usual.” They both laughed.

  “Buy outfits which fit you as you are now. We will have those altered when you stop nursing.”

  “Brilliant!”

  “Of course. Aren’t I always?” Darcy said, smiling. He picked Elizabeth up and spun around with her in his arms. “My beautiful wife and my Tommy’s sweet mother.”

  “Our Tommy.”

  He spun her around again. Setting her down, Darcy said, “Now as to Tommy’s future—Harrow or Eton?”

  Elizabeth picked a book up off the table and swatted him.

  “Glad that was only William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience and not the complete works of Shakespeare.”

  *****

  While the Darcys anticipated and organized the week ahead, the Wickhams had their first spat of the day, as they prepared for departure from their estate just outside the city, just one hour’s drive to #4 Park Lane.

  “Will you please stop packing and unpacking that trunk,” George complained. “We are due at Park Lane for lunch at one.” He checked his watch. “That’s an hour and a half from now.”

  “They won’t eat without us.”

  “Very funny. Now lock that trunk, so I can call the footman. Tomorrow you can buy a new outfit or two; Elizabeth is taking you shopping.”

  Caroline did not comment, but her face contorted into a sneer.

  “Darcy wrote me that you requested a shopping trip when Mary and Elizabeth stopped by to check on you on their way from Longbourn to London . That was only a few weeks ago. Elizabeth is trying to entertain you in a manner she thinks you will appreciate. She is simply acceding to your own request.”

  “Oh
, yes, so I did. I guess I am stuck. Are you and Fitzwilliam joining us?”

  “No. We are off to White’s for some whist.”

  “So I am to be alone with that frumpy . . .”

  “Enough!” George shouted. “She is our hostess this week. Show some style and be polite. Anyway, Darcy thought you would be pleased. You are going to Madame de Pres’ House of Design.”

  “That is welcome news indeed. It suits me quite well. Oh, ho! A little play on words there.”

  “And with the multitude of shops nearby you will have the opportunity to shop for my Christmas gift,” George added, laughing.

  “I presume you will be purchasing me one at your men’s club,” Caroline said haughtily, as she finally closed the trunk and latched it.

  “Probably!” They both laughed. “Time to go.”

  “You’re going to regret sending me on this shopping outing, George.”

  “Oh, no!”

  As the Wickhams rode toward London and their week-long visit with the Darcys, Caroline said, “You got a letter from Fitzwilliam. It just so happens the runner brought me one from Elizabeth.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, and I must admit it was quite thoughtful. She offered us #4 Park Lane for two evenings to entertain our personal friends, including a Christmas Eve dinner party. The other evening she extends the invitation for is December twenty-seven. Then I am invited to have a luncheon for my lady friends the next day, December twenty-eight.”

  “They are being exceptional.”

  “Even I have to agree. I contribute this circumstance to you, George, and to your renewed friendship with Fitzwilliam.”

  “Probably.”

  “Doubtless. Protect it. It is our path into the top echelons of society. The evening of the twenty-eighth, the Darcys got us included on the guest list of the Duke and Duchess of Sheffield’s ball.”