Love Calls Again Read online

He looked at her, dazed, as if looking at her for the first time in his life, and he felt sorry for her. There she was, a mouse of a woman, his wife, unsure of her own wishes, and now, to his chagrin, thinking herself in love with him. Darcy could sense she was merely jealous of Elizabeth's phantom.

  Not for the shortest minute had Darcy ever thought Anne could care for him in that way. Was it possible that she had… No. Anne had always hated him. She had made it very clear through her whimsicalities and anxieties, making his whole domestic life miserable. No, she was only a capricious woman, afraid of the future, too afraid to dare to live. Perhaps, what she confused with love was in fact women's pride.

  "Anne, you do not really love me."

  "I do not?"

  "Please, Anne. What is this game?"

  She did not answer, but shrugged while wrapping herself in the blanket and finding refuge in the farthest corner of the carriage. She closed her eyes and feigned to be asleep the rest of the journey.

  He went back to his own corner facing her and stared blankly out of the window.

  ~•~

  Elizabeth Bennet woke up in her usual bright mood in the guest room at her sister's house. Life at Netherfield Park would never be dull, and each morning presented a varied enough set of possibilities. Teaching her niece and nephew to play the pianoforte was one of them, and one that Elizabeth particularly enjoyed. When young Charles was busy with some manly instruction (he was only three years old), cushion embroidering and sewing was the very thing she would select to do while looking after her niece. Jane was too much entertained now with the twins, only seven months old, to pay much attention to her, and the little girl had become very attached to her aunt.

  Reflecting on the past three years, Elizabeth could not deny she had to be thankful to Jane. After the scandalous conversation she had had with Lady Catherine, and the heartbreaking parting from Mr Darcy at the Gardiner's, her choices of dwelling had been reduced to Longbourn and Netherfield in a self-imposed exile. Although, as she removed herself from London, not a word regarding her stupendously daring night with Mr Darcy was ever heard of, she had aborted the idea of corresponding with Miss Darcy and decided never again to visit either London, Kent or Derbyshire. She could not risk seeing him again. The opprobrium would be unendurable. To her relief and personal well being, as Mr Darcy himself had told her, Lady Catherine would not divulge a word of her intelligence of the affair, had she the very proofs of their adulterous behaviour in her own hands. There was too much at stake to risk such a scandal, a considerable relief.

  Free of such censure, Elizabeth led a passive life, helping her sister in her motherhood, as she had once foretold Jane, she would get married and have ten children while Elizabeth herself "… shall end an old maid and teach your children to embroider cushions and play their instruments very ill."

  Spinterhood notwithstanding, (she would become six and twenty in a few months) Elizabeth's heart was firmly secured to Mr Darcy's. Though she had fled from him, she would not completely rupture the mystical union that tied her so fiercely to his memory, for every now and then, he would visit her in the latest hours in her bedchamber, in her dreams.

  Such was the union of their souls, that many a time she had heard his voice in her slumber, softly purring her name in adoration while caressing her bosom, only to wake up all sweaty and alone in her bedchamber.

  At church, once, the reading of a certain passage from Solomon's Songs, brought about memories of Mr Darcy's very words when assuring her of the constancy of his regard for her… "Love is an eternal flame, the flame of God. No one can extinguish it once it has been lit…"

  The flame of God… May God spare me those flames…

  Her misery was nearly making her ill.

  The only moments when she forgot about her predicament, was the time she spent busy with Bingley's children. Hence, much of her time was thus employed.

  She was once playing with little Caroline in her bedchamber at Longbourn, when she noticed the little girl's mouth was filled with something that was not food. Surely she had put a stray object into her mouth. Sensing the danger, she immediately kneeled in front of the girl and persuaded her to spit the object onto her hand. What her surprise must have been when she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam's engagement ring coming out of Caroline's mouth.

  Prophetic?

  ~•~

  Colonel Fitzwilliam had not counted on Napoleon's strength. At first his commission had merely entailed training soldiers. After the initial triumph of Napoleon's expulsion, the rest of the war had been of a tiresome political nature, and Fitzwilliam was ready to come back to the arms of his beloved Elizabeth within his first year of commission. Yet, news that Napoleon had escaped and was marching upon Paris with an army caused devastating consequences for Richard's return home. The Emperor's ability to gather forces was outstanding. From scarcely hundreds to hundreds of thousands, men eager to fight for Napoleon came from everywhere. Consequently, Richard was reassigned to the Cavalry, to the ardour of the battle, together with a handful of ten thousand British soldiers against two hundred thousand of the French Emperor.

  The thunder of the cannon, the blood of the dying became commonplace to him, so much so that he soon stopped even noticing them. He was no longer cognisant of the wounded and, because he had not been injured, his return home became more and more dubious.

  By the end of his third year on the Continent, Fitzwilliam had lost all hopes of happiness and matrimony. So much blood, so much suffering had turned him insensitive to such feelings. Was there a life, real life away from the battlefield? Could anyone ever be really happy after witnessing so much pain, so much young blood wasted in the gutters? The aftermath of the war with Napoleon had been terrible. Had he a right to claim felicity after all the sorrow he had seen?

  The persistent hazards abroad took him to stay on the Continent until Wellington finally put an end to Napoleon at Waterloo. Hence, Fitzwilliam's commission there finished only when four years had past since he had seen England's white coasts last. During that interminable time, he had not been able to contact either his family or his secret fiancée, due to the terrible consequences of a long fight between the two nations.

  Albeit unconditional to his duty, Fitzwilliam had never thought to remain on the Continent for so long. Hence, after the first year had past, he wheeled his mind to stop thinking of Elizabeth. Not that he had stopped loving her, but the iniquities that he had been compelled to witness during the war had hardened his heart to the point of making him cast aside even the purest notion, even love. With no news from him, within the second year he had concluded that it would be impossible for a young woman to hold to such an engagement. Before the last year of his commission, he had lost all hope and assumed (or rather persuaded himself for the sake of sanity) Elizabeth had married some country squire and would be surrounded by his progeny. Conversely, he had grown old, was unmarried and childless.

  Upon his return to London, Fitzwilliam had schooled his mind to avoid all musing over Elizabeth Bennet, and although not one thought had he given her during the trip back, the minute he set foot in English land, only one name, and one face came to his mind.

  Hers.

  He had to to contact her immediately. With that purpose in mind, he purchased a horse and went to Longbourn directly.

  ~•~

  It was early in the morning and Elizabeth had just returned from her morning stroll when she saw a man on horseback at Longbourn house. That must be the post. Surely there was a letter from Jane.

  Jane and Charles had left to spend the winter season in London and they had taken Catherine with them, as they always do. So, Elizabeth hastily ran the rest of the way to the house, and with a breathless voice, asked Hill for the post. The servant soon handed her the missive. And she had the satisfaction of noticing her sister's neat handwriting on the envelope, her name clearly in black and white. She was no sooner in possession of it than, hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be interr
upted, she sat down on one of the benches, and prepared to be happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not contain bad news.

  Great was her surprise when she read the headings.

  Dearest Sister,

  I have something to tell you, some good news. In fact, due to your own reluctance to associate with certain people in London it might be bad to you. Indeed, I do not which ought to be called. At least I hope you consider good, and I almost can imagine your smile when reading it. I know there is only one subject on which we do not think alike. The Darcys. I also know you have many times advised Catherine against continuing with Georgiana Darcy's friendship, and I know it has to do with your own story with a certain gentleman, but something happened that will change Catherine's life for ever.

  Oh, Jane. Stop this nonsense and get to the point!

  I shall get straight to the point. Our sister, Catherine Bennet, is marrying Edward Ellison.

  Oh Lord, this is Georgiana's doing!

  It is a very simple story. When we arrived to town five days ago, Charles wanted to call on Mr Darcy. Unfortunately, he found Mr Darcy and his wife had left London in haste. Apparently Lady Catherine is unwell. It is such a pity we missed him! It is at least three years since Charles has seen his good friend last. For some unknown reasons, they only keep contact through letters. The thing is that Georgiana Darcy had arrived in Town in haste after her brother's unexpected trip to Kent. So, Charles invited her to join our party the same evening. We were going to the theatre and then to have dinner at home. The party consisted of our sister, Georgiana, and ourselves. But Georgiana asked Charles if she could bring her cousin with her. Charles thought it was a lady and readily agreed to it. Well, she came to the theatre with her two cousins, Miss Rebecca Ellison and her younger brother Edward. They are Lady Sarah's children, you know, a Fitzwilliam. Young Edward is a very intelligent man, full of life. After the theatre we all dined together and he talked to Catherine all night through.

  It seems Mr Ellison had already been introduced to Catherine last winter by Miss Darcy, and they were secretly engaged. Well, in the course of that visit, he found an opportunity of speaking to Catherine; and certainly did not speak in vain. They agreed to marry within a week, for Mr Ellison had already purchased a special license (Papa will be surprised at such boldness, yet not unaccustomed, and I assume he will understand ). He came down yesterday and was with Charles this morning, immediately after breakfast to seek his favour. This is all I can relate of the how, where and when. Your little sister will give you the minute particulars, which only she can make, once you see her for the nuptials. However, I must add, that Mr Ellison's heart was very overflowing, and he did mention he would endeavour to call on Papa directly to ask for his permission. He has already written to him. Of course, Papa does not need to know Mr Ellison has already procured the special license, at least not from you.

  Lizzy, my dearest, I know this situation might bring you uneasiness. It might be an evil to you, but you must consider it as what satisfies our sister. Our new brother is the best of men. He is rather young, I agree, but his good sense and good principles will delight you. As far as the man is concerned, you could not wish Catherine to be in better hands. His rank in society is the best and his fortune, though not great, will suffice for them both.

  The letter left Elizabeth very much disturbed. She had never been able to entrust to any of her sisters her reason for avoiding the Darcys or the Fitzwilliams. Because Charles was so fond of Mr Darcy, it had been a miracle their paths had not crossed before. She reckoned she had never expected Mr Darcy to take her pledge of avoiding each other so much to heart. All in all she was glad he had.

  She wanted to look up and smile but she could not. Surely, Mr Darcy will be again a part of her life. He would be family! It was certain that it was his destiny to become her cousin in one way or other.

  Scarcely had she dropped the letter when she heard the sound of a carriage at her door. On spying through the window, she saw the tall figure of a young man, whom she immediately surmised to be young Mr Ellison, alighting from it, followed by a footman and his personal valet. When he was introduced to her, before entering into the library to confer with Mr Bennet, Elizabeth immediately recognised he had Richard's airs and smart posture. He looked very much like him, though his hair was not blond, but auburn, and his eyes not blue, but hazel.

  After Mr Ellison came out of the library, in the gayest and happiest of spirits, he was congratulated by Mrs Bennet. The young man then insisted that Mr and Mrs Bennet and Miss Bennet should accompany him to London, for he wanted to introduce his new relations to his family, before the nuptials. It was a great opportunity to make the journey in his carriage, for the road, he said, was in excellent condition, and he was sure, if they parted in haste, to be there at most late that same evening. He had purposely brought the barouche so that all of them would fit in comfortably.

  Much as he should wish to, Mr Bennet found it impossible to fight such an enticing invitation, for his wife was already preparing a small trunk for the trip.

  In the course of the week, scarcely a few days after she had arrived in London, Mrs Bennet got rid of the last, to her own estimation, of her marriageable daughters. With what delighted pride she afterwards talked of Mrs Ellison, might be guessed. Such a grand family! The grandson of an earl! Her Kitty had done what that headstrong Lizzy had failed to do twice, and even married from London! And such a beautiful gown she wore! What laces! What veils and carriages!

  Elizabeth was relieved not to have seen Mr Darcy at the wedding, although she had been readying her spirit for the encounter. She was explained yet again, that Lady Catherine was unwell, and that the Darcys would stay at Rosings Park for the season.

  Miss Darcy was Kitty's maid of honour, for Elizabeth had already been Jane's and Mary's (always the maiden of honour, never the bride). Albeit nervous, Miss Darcy was proud she had matched her cousin and her best friend so beautifully! And she had done it all alone!

  "I wish Wills would have been able to come! Or Richard!" said Georgiana to Elizabeth after the ceremony.

  "Still no news from the colonel?" asked Elizabeth.

  "His regiment has already returned, but not him."

  "Are you confident he is well?"

  "I pray he is."

  "That his name has never appeared among the casualties is very reassuring…"

  "Indeed it is."

  "So, you do not expect your brother for the wedding breakfast either?"

  "No. It is imperative that he should remain at Rosings Park. Lady Catherine's malady is extremely catching."

  "I see."

  "Elizabeth."

  "Yes, Georgiana."

  "I may sound impertinent, but… Would you not be angry with me if I asked you a question?" Elizabeth sensed the question had something to do with Darcy's not coming to the wedding. She suspected her young friend was aware of her feelings for her brother. Much as she would have wished to confide in someone, Elizabeth found it very difficult to trust such intimate part of her life with anyone. But… How much did the girl know about their affair?

  "If your question involves your brother, I dare say I will."

  "Very well, then. I shall remain silent."

  "I thank you."

  "Still, you must know that I love you both."

  "I know, dearest. Pray, let us change the subject. What do you expect the wedding breakfast to begin?" And so the subject was quickly dropped.

  Scarcely had the wedding breakfast begun when an express reached Georgiana from her brother at Rosings. It did not bare auspicious news.

  ~•~

  On arriving at her maternal home, Anne rushed upstairs to her mother's bedchamber. Her husband lingered behind.

  In the bedroom at Rosings Park, the servants were attending Lady Catherine. When the Lady saw her daughter in the corridor she cried out-

  "Apoplexy! I told them all it was just an excess of lamb meat. Dr. Drake acted most concerned and
insisted on notifying everyone as if it were the reading of my will. But I shall not be treated like a corpse when I am hardly an invalid."

  The servants proceeded to finish attending her, Anne following their movements closely behind, knowing too well what to expect from her mother's mental impairment. On noticing Darcy standing at the door, the old lady yelled for everyone to hear.

  "You are very dear to come, nephew," her voice sarcastic. "But perhaps you only wanted to see what I had left you. Have you brought any of your bastards with you?"

  "Mama, that is shocking!" reproached Anne.

  The servants, in complete silence, set Lady Catherine's medicines down on the bed table and quit the room.

  "It was shock that did this to me," she continued in the same tone. "It is all due to your mistress, nephew. She came here last night, and she asked me…"

  There she went again. Darcy rolled his eyes in preparation for a round of a madding speech about Miss Bennet coming to Rosings and abusing her. She had been having this frenzied confusion with Elizabeth ever since she and Elizabeth had had that heated argument in London. At first, Darcy found it preposterous. But then again, he got used to it. After all, it was all in the old woman's frantic mind.

  As she talked, Darcy created the image in his mind… His mistress… Elizabeth… How he wished it were truth!

  Lady Catherine's delirium went on. "… she had the effrontery to tell me she loved you, 'I am not quitting him', she said. I said to her, 'Honour has always been honour, and honesty has always been honesty, in Rosings house, and will be till I am carried out feet first. I shall never permit your progeny to pollute the shades of Rosings… 'And then… if you can believe it… she said to me… 'But I am a gentleman's daughter. We are equals!' And I said 'When my nephew covered you with jewels, he also covered you with shame!'"

  Soon her mind abandoned the delirium and came back to normal. She forgot all about Miss Bennet and turned to explain what they should do at her funeral. Darcy sat down on the couch as Lady Catherine finished the story of her apoplexy.