“Yes, you played the piece perfectly.”
“No. I remember.” She tapped her temple.
Darcy’s hands trembled as he rose and went to her. What would she do when she recalled that he was not her husband? “What do you remember?”
Her expression was dazed. No doubt the sudden onslaught of memories must be like standing under a powerful waterfall.
She blinked, her eyes focusing on him. “My childhood. Longbourn. My parents. Jane, Mary, Kitty, Lydia. Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. How could I have forgotten them?” She raised a hand to her mouth.
Captain and Mrs. Moreau watched curiously from the loveseat but did not interfere.
“Nothing of your later years?” Darcy asked.
She shook her head. “I recall my twelfth birthday, but I do not believe any memories date from after…”
His knees weak, Darcy sank onto the bench beside her, feeling like a prisoner who had been granted a stay of execution. Perhaps they need not discuss such unpleasant matters until they were on their way to England. “It is a good sign,” he said. “Other memories might follow shortly.” But hopefully not all.
“Perhaps.” Her face glowed. “It is so wonderful to remember! I feel more like myself than I have since I awakened in Saint-Malo. For what are we, after all, but the sum of our memories?”
Darcy was happy for her. He was. But his hands still shook. How much time do I have before everything crashes down upon me?
***
Elizabeth’s good mood persisted for the rest of the day. Whirling in a sea of reminiscences, she would occasionally laugh aloud as a particularly amusing memory struck her or hold back tears at the recollection of some more solemn incidents from her childhood. Buoyed by her rediscovered memories, she was especially charming with Mrs. Moreau and the children as they begged for songs on the pianoforte. How good it felt to play again!
William and the captain returned before dinner with the necessary papers for a departure the following morning. Memories flooded Elizabeth throughout dinner. The taste of potato recalled a funny story about Lydia. A sip of wine reminded her of Jane’s preferences for the drink. She had opened a previously locked door to find an endless series of rooms just waiting to be explored.
At the same time, she was extremely impatient for dinner to end so she could inundate William with questions. Possessing memories that ended at age twelve was endlessly frustrating. Were all her sisters yet at home? Had any married? Had Mary ever outgrown her tendency to moralize? Had Lydia developed better sense? Had Kitty lost the annoying lisp in her speech? Were they all in good health? Every new worry sent a thrill of anticipation racing through Elizabeth’s body.
Her sisters must have grown and changed, but Elizabeth did not know how. Unfortunately, William would likely lack answers to many of her questions since he did not seem particularly well acquainted with her family. How did I come to marry a man who showed so little interest in my family? She recalled Colonel Fitzwilliam’s story about Darcy’s attitude toward Jane. Does he dislike my family? Would she have married such a man?
However, by the end of the meal, Elizabeth was faltering again. Perhaps the excitement over the new recollections had drained more energy than she recognized.
After dinner, William departed to hire a horse and wagon for the morrow, suggesting that Elizabeth rest before their long journey. She did lie down on the bed in the guest chamber. Her body was weary, but her mind was too alert for sleep. Although she knew the memories of her adult life were inaccessible, she could not help but strive to uncover them. In particular, she wished she could remember her association with Mr. Darcy. Her dreams had given her vexingly incomplete glimpses.
The memories provided other information she found to be useful. She now understood how unprepossessing the Longbourn estate was and that her dowry would be very small. Why had William chosen a wife who was virtually penniless? As a girl, she had occasionally fantasized about falling in love with and marrying a handsome rich man. But the adult Elizabeth recognized that such men usually married beautiful rich women—which she decidedly was not.
Was there some other reason for their marriage? Had he accidentally compromised her? Or perhaps it was a case of “marry in haste, repent in leisure.” No, he had vowed his love for her on more than one occasion.
But why he had made no effort to claim his marital rights? Whenever she had tried to move their lovemaking beyond kissing, he had rebuffed her. Yes, he treated her tenderly, but perhaps his affection was more akin to the fondness one might feel for a friend or a sister.
Earlier he had claimed that he did not wish to get her with child, though surely that could not be the only reason. She had assumed he was being a gentleman, but perhaps his ardor toward her had cooled. Perhaps she was no longer so attractive after her illness. Perhaps he did not want a damaged wife. Despite the warm air, the room suddenly felt very cold.
If she approached him again with amorous intentions, how would he react? The thought set butterflies flitting about her stomach, a not completely unpleasant feeling. The truth was that William was quite a handsome man, with intelligent eyes and dark curls that she longed to thrust her fingers into.
The idea that such a handsome man loved her…was intoxicating. The excitement fizzed in her veins like champagne bubbles. She could imagine a wonderful future being married to such a man. The few kisses they had shared had been…exquisite.
Was William a magnific
ent kisser because he really loved her, or simply because he was practiced at the art? She did not wish to pursue that line of thought.
Of course, she wanted the answer to be true love, and yet it was difficult to fully believe in his love given the contradictory information in her dreams. It was a puzzle, and a number of the pieces were still missing.
***
She awoke when William opened the door, blinking sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Nearly nine,” he said softly. “I visited earlier, but you were sleeping so soundly I thought it best to let you get the rest you need.”