Love Calls Again Page 8

  Only this time Richard doubted he would be of any help.

  Georgiana was another difficult issue. She had trusted him with her conviction that Elizabeth and Darcy felt strongly for each other, leaving the Colonel little to say to deny it. He also knew he had been struggling along with Darcy to recover Georgiana's faith in true love. She would certainly think him a traitor the moment she discovered who his betrothed was. She believed Darcy and Elizabeth loved each other. How he would ever persuade her otherwise?

  How would I persuade myself otherwise?

  His sense of guilt reached paramount proportions at the intelligence of Darcy's readiness to confess to his friend Bingley his own follies, acknowledging to Charles his attempt to separate him from Miss Jane Bennet. Fitzwilliam had done the very same thing, only his own motives had been very different indeed! He had retained that which he had deprived his cousin! Different indeed! Darcy had acted in defence of his friend, not contrariwise! Why, Fitzwilliam acknowledged he had taken the wrong side.

  Notwithstanding Darcy's doubtful intentions towards the lady, Fitzwilliam now knew he had had no right to intervene, not when he was aware that it had been for his own sake, and not Darcy's, he had done so. Even worse, Georgiana's, Darcy's, Mr Bennet's even Elizabeth's accounts were alarmingly similar in determining that Miss Bennet had presumably been in love with Darcy whilst she was at Pemberley. Be that the case, then it was he, and only he who had doomed both his cousin and Miss Bennet to the suffering they had been subjected to of late. He was definitely not a coward, but the very idea of the confession of his own follies made his courage falter. In witnessing Darcy's misery he wondered whether he would ever find the strength to disclose what would certainly cause his cousin so much pain.

  Torn by both loyalties, those he owed to his family and those he owed to the word he had given to Elizabeth, Colonel Fitzwilliam's heart was melting in sorrow and uneasiness. For he knew he would not be able to maintain loyal to both parties. He would have to choose.

  Their arrival in Kent did not help to elevate the Colonel's spirit in any way. Colonel Fitzwilliam wished he could leave the moment he had arrived. The almost absent interaction between Mr and Mrs Darcy soon spoke volumes of their obvious dislike for each other. Darcy's demeanour shifted into the gloomiest he had ever observed while in his wife's company. Lady Catherine's absolute despotic temper did nothing to help ease Darcy's terrible state of mind either.

  "Darcy! What took you so long at Pemberley! I am most concerned for your lack of consideration for your wife's welfare! Do you not know Anne has been ill of late?" spit the old Lady.

  Realising he was being addressed, Darcy squared his shoulders and calmly responded to his aunt.

  "Forgive me, Lady Catherine. I knew of Anne's indisposition. Unfortunately there is business at Pemberley that requires my direct attention, and I cannot postpone it."

  "Your place is with your wife! No business can be of such importance when your wife needs you by her side."

  Darcy glanced askance to his wife. She was the ugliest creature his eyes had ever beheld. But her lack of grace stemmed from her nature, so dry, so indifferent. Of course Mother Nature had obviously deprived her of those many virtues that were so abundant in Miss Bennet. No sooner had her husband arrived when she had coyly begun her customary pretence of indisposition. "I trust Anne has had all the company she has ever desired," he muttered almost to himself.

  "Play no parlour games with me, young man! This house will be entailed to you upon my death, and you must direct your attentions to it, as well as to your father's inheritance. You will certainly not produce heirs at such long distance."

  Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes quickly darted from Darcy to Georgiana.

  "Madam, I think this is hardly a topic that can be discussed in front of Georgiana. You should refrain from exposing our family differences in the presence of others."

  "Then we shall not delay this any further. Fitzwilliam! Leave us! Take Georgiana with you!" she dismissed the two of them with a wave of her hand, to which both cousins readily obeyed. Darcy's eyes focused on his wife's. He sent daggers at her, obviously commanding her to restrain her mother.

  "Mother, I would rather talk to my husband in private," finally said Anne meekly.

  "Nonsense! If I leave this to you two, you will die childless!"

  "Lady Catherine, I refuse to discuss my intimate life with you." His voice echoed a deadly calm tone which in fact was hiding a turmoil going on inside of him.

  "Nephew, I must have a word! You will listen to what I have to say! I am your closest blood relative. Now that you are married to Anne I am your mother! If you adhere to this routine you will never…"

  "Mother, please! NO!" Anne had risen and attempted to leave the room.

  "Anne! Stay where you are! You must understand this is for your own good. You have been married long enough to bear a child, yet there is still no heir. I want to know what, or who, for that matter, has prevented your husband from keeping you company! Pray, nephew. Enlighten me. What is this business that keeps you from your own wife's bed for so long?"

  It did not take one second for Darcy to catch his aunt's meaning. He was not a man to speak with secondary meanings nor would he ever do so, therefore he answered rather bluntly. "Madam. Do not make yourself concerned. There is no reason to fear my disloyalty. I have never kept mistresses and I intend to refrain from such a practice all my life. This is not the reason I have been absent from Kent."

  "So, what is it, Darcy? And remember whom you are talking to! I am not a person to trifle with, so think before you speak!"

  Darcy adopted his most austere posture, one which would have sent everybody at Pemberley to their work in absolute silence. But the woman facing him was no servant at Pemberley, so he laboured his mind to avoid further offence than that which had already been inflicted upon his person. "Madam, I have already told you. You must understand I cannot help having been kept at Pemberley most of my time, especially when many tenants have been undergoing severe misfortunes. The terrible weather they have been…" the thunder of his aunt's voice interrupted his speech.

  "Yes, yes! Do not bother with an account of your tenants' dealings. Young man, you cannot stay at Pemberley because some tenants have been under stressful times. This will not be endured! You will stay at Rosings so long as it is necessary for Anne to be with child! Then you will be free to go and do whatever you choose! Until then, you are to remain here!"

  "Mother, you cannot do this! I cannot bear a child in my present state."

  "Stuff and nonsense! You will do as you are told!"

  "Mother, I am not to be imposed upon in matters such as these. You have done enough by imposing on me, on us both, a marriage neither of us wished. Had we married for love, none of this would have be-chanced!" she whirled around and fled upstairs leaving Lady Catherine open-mouthed.

  "Anne! Come here! I am not finished! Do you think I am to be fooled in my own house! You must unlock your adjoining bedchamber door! Anne!" Seeing that Anne would not hear her, she turned her fury on her nephew. "Look at what you have done! You must stop this, nephew. I shall not permit the walls of this house to be polluted with bastards!"

  Darcy breathed deeply. He knew he had better persuade his aunt that there was nothing to worry about. "Lady Catherine. I am sorry you have been caused undue distress. I assure you there is no other woman in my life. I am childless, and I shall remain so until my own wife bears my child. You can trust me in that."

  "You must promise, Darcy. There must be an heir by the end of the next year. If not, you must know you shall not see one stone of Rosings pass into your inheritance. Mark my words, young man!"

  "Madam. I cannot promise what is not in my hands to provide. Yet I assure you, I will do everything in my power to please you. Does that satisfy you?" He used his commanding voice to say the last phrase, the one he used when he wanted things to be done. A direct, detached tone, confident and definite.

  "Yes, yes, of course."r />
  "Pray, I must request this of you. Talk to Anne no more about this. 'Tis only disturbing her further." The conversation was over and Lady Catherine retired to her room.

  ~•~

  Elizabeth's humour did not match the season's festivities. It had been too long since she had been with her fiancé. Colonel Fitzwilliam had promised to spend Christmas with her at the Gardiner's home, and with that purpose in mind she had stayed in London. All of a sudden, an express had arrived from him, in which he regretted to inform her uncle that due to family commitments it would be impossible for him to comply with his wish to spend Christmas Eve in London.

  What could he mean by that?

  Perchance some one was ill? Goodness, her mind was racing! Could it be Anne Darcy? But if that were the case, why had he not been more direct? Perchance it was Miss Darcy? Was it possible that Richard was at Pemberley?

  Such thoughts immediately brought about the ever-disturbing image of Mr Darcy, who thereupon became once again a recurrent presence in her dreams.

  Christmas was spent with little spirits on Elizabeth's side, although the Gardiner children did persuade her to go carol singing in the neighbourhood. Still, her low spirits were noticed by Madeleine Gardiner. Yet, much as Elizabeth should wish to confide in her, the nature of her distress was too embarrassing for her to declare to her aunt. After all, what would she say to her? That she had been having quite disturbing dreams about the married cousin of her fiancé? That whenever Richard was not around, she would helplessly fell prey to such dreams?

  She was not having second thoughts as regards her engagement. She was certain of her feelings for Colonel Fitzwilliam. Yet she was loath to become related to the Darcys while knowing her still tender emotions towards the Master of Pemberley.

  A few days before she travelled back to Longbourn, her uncle received another letter from Fitzwilliam. This time, it contained a short note addressed to her, which her uncle immediately handed her.

  Dearest Elizabeth,

  I trust you have spent a merry time with your family. Unfortunately, I am to attend to the health of one of my relatives, and will not be at liberty to travel before the Christmas season is over.

  I have received an invitation to attend a ball to be held in Netherfield Park by your kind brother Mr Bingley on the occasion of the Twelfth Night festivity, which I regret to inform you I was compelled to decline. I understand you will be attending it with your family. I sincerely hope you enjoy yourself.

  You must know that although in heart and spirit I have not parted with you, my body is suffering the unspoken your absence. Especially my empty arms, hungry of your embrace. How much I long for the touch of your lips!

  My duty with my family will keep me busy during the whole Christmas season. Unfortunately, it would be impossible for me to join you before the 7th of January. I shall be calling on you by that time at Longbourn.

  Until then, I remain yours in body and soul.

  R.F.

  If her spirits had roused on receiving a letter from Richard, reading its contents left Elizabeth in a very much perturbed state of mind. When she had gone through the whole letter, she folded it and clutched it in her fist. But in half a minute the letter was unfolded again, and again she began the perusal of Richard's reasons for being away from her for so long. A relative, he said, but who? Which of all his relatives could be in need of him? She knew his immediate family was there in London for the Christmas season. That left but two groups of relatives: those in Kent and those in Derbyshire. Again she read on, but every line proved as unclear as the other. He was obviously withholding that information from her. She put down the letter, weighed every possibility, deliberated on the probability of each, but with little success. If he was deliberately avoiding the disclosure of his ill relative's identity, that could only mean one thing. It must be someone related to the Darcys.

  Was it possible that Mrs Darcy might be ill? Her heart lurched at the very idea. What Mr Collins and Richard had said about her was still fresh in her memory, and as she recalled the very words, it was impossible for her not to feel exceedingly guilty at the feelings that ran through her soul. It was an injustice, and she deeply endeavoured to contrite, yet it could not be helped.

  She wished Anne Darcy to be Richard's mysterious ill relative. She wished she was irremediably ill. In short, she wished that Mrs Darcy would die.

  She grew absolutely ashamed of herself.

  How despicable of me! How could this affect me so? How can I rejoice in someone's misfortune? What good could there be in her death?

  Still, deep in her heart she was perfectly aware of the wish of her soul.

  Mr Darcy.

  She was not to see Richard not until January the 7th – which was indeed too long. Therefore she would not be apprised of the matter until then. The whole secrecy of Richard's dealings with his family was astonishingly disquieting.

  This cannot be! Why would he not tell me?

  She needed, desperately, to know.

  It was the first week of January, in which the Gardiners and Elizabeth set out together from Gracechurch Street for Hertfordshire; and as they drew near Longbourn the tumult of Elizabeth's mind was reaching its peak. She would be now, being settled at home and helplessly away from her fiancé, at leisure to weigh her own feelings. Her recent outburst of humiliating and despicable wishes against Anne Darcy, which had undoubtedly been aroused in her through Richard's letter, had left her completely mortified. Of neither Darcy nor Fitzwilliam could she think without reckoning her heart's involvement in both gentlemen's interests. After searching it thoroughly, she was not happy to discover she still cherished a very tender affection for Mr Darcy. Her distress at her discovery was easily observed in her countenance, for she acknowledged she also felt deeply for the colonel. This duality of emotions caused Elizabeth to dread the mere meeting with her father.

  Upon her arrival at her home, however, she found her father quite eager to have a word with her. So not long after she had arrived, once she had rested from the journey, Mr Bennet summoned her to his library.

  "Well, my dear child. How did you spend your holidays? I have every reason to believe you have enjoyed yourself, have you not? You do not seem to have lost much time, eh?" he contended teasingly.

  "May I be so bold as to inquire of what you are speaking?" Elizabeth's countenance was pale beyond expression.

  "You may. I am talking about a certain young man who recently came to ask for your hand. What do you have to say about that?"

  "Not much. Colonel Fitzwilliam asked me to marry me, and I have accepted," she proudly avouched.

  "In other words, you are determined to have him. And on what grounds have you done so?" her father spat, for a moment his words sounded concerned.

  "Why! He loves me, and I him," she argued, full of conviction.

  "So soon, eh? Simple as that."

  "I fail to comprehend your meaning, papa."

  "Indeed you do not. Not three months ago you were miserably and irremediably in love with a man who was about to get married. Which in fact he did. And now you have simply switched to another young man in the blink of an eye. I must confess I am more than surprised! I have never thought you so volatile, Lizzy. Not that I am not happy you have conquered your feelings for the first gentleman," he eyed her meaningfully, to see if he could discern any sign of assent in her demeanour. "I fear I am somewhat sceptical as to your true feelings for the colonel."

  "Indeed, you should not be, for I am certain of them. Richard is an honourable man, he loves me dearly and I love him. Our acquaintance does not begin in London. It has been a year since I met him at Rosings Park…"

  "Rosings Park, eh?"

  "Yes, papa."

  "Next you will tell me he is Lady Catherine De Bourgh's nephew."

  Uncomfortable as she was with her father's contentious disposition, she had not counted on his ironic tone. Hence, she sighed heavily as she declared: "He is."

  Mr Bennet was staring at h
er, inwardly savouring her embarrassment, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes focused on her visage. "Indeed. You seem to have a propensity to fall in love with the Lady's relatives." His head lopsided, he asserted in a cruel manner: "For her son-in-law you have already refused. Who will be next? Her son?" He raised a sardonic brow.

  "Papa!"

  "Lizzy, do not act missish with me. I am concerned for you, my child. It would be unwise to enter into matrimony for the wrong reasons, as you very well know."

  "Papa. I love Colonel Fitzwilliam."

  "You seem to forget you have declared yourself in love with Mr Darcy only a few weeks ago. I am to understand you have changed your mind over such short time?"

  "Indeed I have, papa. What prospects do I have in harbouring those feelings for Mr Darcy? What benefits are there in clinging to what is not to be? 'Tis true. I loved Mr Darcy with all my heart. But he is not… he is…" Words failed her, and she felt a heavy lump in her throat and tears forming in her eyes.

  "You still love him, eh?"

  She tilted her head while wiping her tears with her hand. To her utter amazement, her father's anger had banished, and he was beholding her with tender eyes. He sat down for a few moments and then, getting up, walked about the room, visibly affected.

  "I am afraid Lizzy, I am obligated to forbid you enter into marriage with a man while you are still affected by another."

  The agitation and tears which those words occasioned brought Mr Bennet to conjecture that Elizabeth was, indeed, very much in love with Mr Darcy. Seeing that she was growing exceedingly unwell, he did not press her to say anything, but silently waited until she regained enough composure to speak.