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Part 43
April 6, 1861
In the afternoon, Elizabeth noticed that something was wrong with Jane; her sister seemed somehow less cheerful than usual. She cornered her sister just before dinner, asking for an explanation of her mood.
Jane sighed a little mournfully. "I had a letter from Caroline Bingley today. She is going to join Charles at Netherfield."
"Whatever for?" Elizabeth demanded. That was not like Caroline, in Elizabeth's opinion. "Isn't he returning in a week with Fitzwilliam and Georgianna?"
"I thought so. Caroline says that she thinks that Charles will not wish to return to D.C. once he sees 'the beauties of the South'. Elizabeth, she seems to think that Charles is in love with Miss Darcy and is only waiting for her to grow up."
"I do not believe it," Elizabeth said flatly. "I am certain that Fitzwilliam would have told me if this were the case."
"What if he did not know the truth himself?" Jane argued. "He could not tell you then. But it does not matter; he will be forgotten and everything will be as it was before." At Elizabeth's look, Jane added, "I am very serious. I will remember him always as the kindest man I have ever met, but that it all. And I have the comfort of knowing that it was all an error on my side, to dream that way."
"Jane, you are too good and angelic. I feel that, as much as I love you, it is so much less than you deserve. But sometimes, you do not do yourself enough credit. I do not believe that Charles will remain at Netherfield."
"Are you suggesting that Caroline would lie to me?" Jane asked. When Elizabeth did not answer, Jane said, "That is exactly what you think, isn't it? Why?"
Elizabeth hesitated. As much as she loved her sister, she knew how trusting Jane could be. How could she phrase this best? "I think they do not think our family is quite good enough for Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. We are, after all, Northerners."
"I'm sure that they want the best for him, maybe even wanting him to marry Miss Darcy. But it may be for the best reasons. They have known her longer than me, so it makes sense they would care more for her. In any case, though, I'm sure they wouldn't go directly against their brother's wishes."
"I disagree," Elizabeth said. "I think they would, if that suited them."
"No," Jane said. "I will not, I cannot, believe such a thing. The best I can hope for is that Caroline has somehow mistaken his feelings."
Elizabeth murmured some assent, thinking that she would ask Fitzwilliam about it when she spoke to him later.
Part 44
April 7, 1861
Elizabeth went over to see Darcy the next morning. It had become her custom to include time with him every day.
She left her coat with the butler and was ushered into the study, where Darcy was working busily on some papers. He looked up as she came in. "I will be five minutes, Elizabeth, then you will have my time to yourself."
"There is no rush," she assured him. She wandered around the room, taking it all in. "Have you heard from Charles lately?"
"He has only been gone three days. That's hardly time to hear from him."
"Caroline evidently has heard something. She left yesterday, saying she would be joining him at Netherfield. She said she didn't think he would want to leave again."
"I would have surmised much the same thing," Darcy remarked absently. His attention was more on the letter in front of him than the conversation he was having with his fiancée.
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "You knew he wasn't coming back?"
Darcy looked up for a moment. "No. I did not know he wasn't coming back; I still do not know this. I merely suspected it."
"And did you also suspect," she asked, a dangerous tone in her voice, "that he would leave without first proposing to Jane."
He missed the tone, his attention was so focused on what was before him. "I did suspect that, I admit."
Elizabeth was starting to get angry. Jane was miserable at home, and her beloved Fitzwilliam had suspected that it would happen. "And you said nothing to him, nothing about leaving the woman he loves behind?"
"I gave him my honest opinion," Darcy said. "Elizabeth, what is the point of all these questions?"
"What was your 'honest opinion'?"
"Elizabeth, my love - "
"What was your opinion?" she repeated, her voice strained.
"That he consider it carefully before he make any lifelong decisions, and that your sister is by birth and breeding a Northerner and - "
Elizabeth didn't wait to hear what else he had to say. "I'm not feeling so well at the moment. I hope you will forgive me for breaking our engagement this morning," she said coolly, then turned and left the room.
Darcy went after her, still not entirely sure what Elizabeth was so angry. Left behind on his desk was the letter he had been so intent on.
Darcy,Tempers are flaring over the possibility of secession. Return immediately; we need your cool head to help prevent Virginia being pulled into war.
Part 45
April 8, 1861
Elizabeth woke with a throbbing headache. At first she couldn't remember why; it didn't matter though. Fitzwilliam would make her feel better when he came over later. Then she winced. He was the reason for the headache.
She rose and went over to her desk. There was a letter there, from her to Fitzwilliam. She read through it again. It was a good letter, saying just what she meant. She folded it and slipped it into the envelope, but she couldn't bring herself to seal it. Instead, she set it down on the desk and turned away.
Breakfast had never been such a melancholy meal as it was that morning. Both Jane and Elizabeth were in the doldrums, though for different reasons. Mrs. Bennet was weeping miserably over Mr. Bingley's departure, and Lydia and Kitty were inconsolable over the fact that the officers were all being called away to join their regiments.
After breakfast, Elizabeth tried to go on with her normal morning routine, but it wasn't working. She kept looking out the window in hopes that Fitzwilliam would come see her. When she wasn't at the window, she was in her room staring at the letter on her desk.
Finally, about noon, she sealed up the letter and gave it to one of the servants to deliver to Mr. Darcy.
Darcy thought about Elizabeth all morning. Even when he was meeting with the other politicians from Virginia and the other southern states that were still part of the Union, he mind was on his lovely fiancée.
When he returned home in the early part of the afternoon, he began giving directions to his servants to pack his things. He would be leaving on the 10th, after he had a chance to speak with Elizabeth and apologize for whatever he had done.
That done, he went out once more, again joining the Southern politicians. It was well on the way to midnight when he returned and he promptly went to bed, planning on visiting Elizabeth as soon as possible.
So it wasn't until the next morning that he looked at his mail in his study and found the letter with her distinctive seal. Curiously he broke the seal and removed the letter.
Dear Mr. Darcy...
Part 46
Dear Mr. Darcy,After much careful consideration of our conversation yesterday, I feel there is something that needs to be said before we go any farther along a course of action that may bring great unhappiness to both parties.
Yesterday, you condemned my sister as a Northerner, implying that she was somehow unworthy of your friend's affection because of this. This idea gave me great pain, as you no doubt noticed. Not only does it distress me to see my beloved sister wronged in such a way, but it also bring to the surface many worries which I had previously overcome.
Whatever you may think of the North in general, do not condemn my sister merely for her birthplace. She is all that is good and sweet, well deserving of any man's love. Moreover, Jane and Mr. Bingley are so much in love that separating them seems not only unjust but undeservedly cruel.
It is not this alone, though, which dictates I write this letter. When you spoke of my sister's birth as a reason for Mr. Bingley to not marry her, you renewed fears that you might consider me beneath you for that same reason. I know you have said that you do not feel this way, that your only concern is for my happiness in a place not my own. But when you say something as you did yesterday, all my worries come back. How can a marriage survive for long with such concerns?
With that thought uppermost in my mind, I feel it is imperative to make you this offer. If it is your wish, I will release you from our engagement and leave you to bestow your affections where you see fit. If this is your desire, I will return you ring and we will consider the matter closed.
Until we next speak, I remain yours sincerely,
Elizabeth Bennet
Darcy set down the letter, somewhat in shock. He picked up the letter and read it through again, trying to focus on what the words meant, rather than on Elizabeth's amazing eloquence. How she could believe that he wouldn't want to marry her...
He saw, at least he thought he saw, why Elizabeth had been angry with him. But she had misinterpreted what he had said. He had meant something quite different.
How to make her see his side of the story? Some sixth sense told him that this would not be a good time to visit: she would either refuse to listen, or she would refuse to see him altogether. He looked at the letter again and half-smiled. If a letter worked once, it would work again.
He set to work.
Part 47
April 9, 1861
Late in the afternoon, Elizabeth was moping in the parlor, after having asked Jane to leave her alone for the time being. She wanted Fitzwilliam to come and tell her it was all a mistake, that everything was really fine. But that could not happen. He had encouraged Mr. Bingley to leave Jane that way, and now nothing could be right.
She laid her head in her hands. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't. She was going to be strong and go on just as always.
A sound at the door caught her attention, and she lifted her head. One of the maids was there with something in her hands. "Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, but this letter came for you. He said it was important."
Elizabeth took the letter. She knew it was from Darcy. It had to be. She looked at the handwriting; it was.
Dismissing the maid, she ran to her room, where she could read the letter in private. But in spite of her longing for this letter, she almost did not want to open it. It took her several minutes to work up the courage to break the seal and open the letter.
Dearest Elizabeth,I must begin this letter with an apology. I must ask your forgiveness for writing to you instead of coming to plead my case in person. As you are reading this, I am preparing for a trip and so unable to come to you. But I will explain that in time.
In your letter, you made the statement that I separated Mr. Bingley and your sister. I think that you have misunderstood what I said, what I did and my motives behind it.
It was not long after we met that I saw how Bingley admired your sister. I admit I paid it little attention at the time; I have often seen him fall for a pretty face and my thoughts were full of you. It was not until that evening we were walking and speaking of Pemberley that I began to be aware of a serious interest on my friend's part. Furthermore, it took a conversation with my cousin to make me see that Bingley and your sister were considered attached. I observed my friend closely from there on and observed a greater partiality towards your sister than I had ever witnessed in him. I also watched your sister; her attitude was cheerful and pleasant, but I did see any sign of a particular regard. I was not convinced that she was in love, though I was not convinced otherwise.
When Bingley came to me and told me that he was planning on proposing to your sister, he asked my opinion. I told him what I told you when I proposed to you: that Miss Bennet is a Northerner by birth and breeding and I was not sure she would be happy in the South. I also mentioned what I have just described: that I did not know if she returned his affections.
Bingley left for Netherfield, uncertain of what he would do. I believed then, and I still believe, that he merely needed time to decide what was important to him. I did not, contrary to what you may have thought, actively work to separate him from your sister. I simply did not want him to make a mistake that could hurt both of them.
If I was mistaken in understanding your sister - and it is probable, as you know her better than I - than I am very sorry for what I said. It was not done with the intent to hurt either one, and I hope you will forgive me for my actions here.
The other point I must here address is the focus of your letter. In no way is it my wish to end our engagement; I love you too much to ever willfully leave. If you wish to end our engagement, I will understand, but I do not wish it. The ring is yours; it belongs on your hand as long as you choose to wear it.
That said, I must bid you farewell for a time. I am called to the South in an attempt to prevent my state from being drawn into the war. I will be leaving early on the tenth, but I will return in a few weeks. When I return, I hope that I will be able to speak with you in person and that you will by then have decided to forgive me for my actions.
Yours devotedly,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth set the letter down and lay back on her bed. He loved her. He hadn't separated Jane and Mr. Bingley. At least, not really. She should have known she could have trusted Fitzwilliam that he would not do such a thing.
Heart pounding, she read through the letter again. He was truly the best of men. Her only regret was that she would not get to see him before he left, that she could not tell him how much she loved him now.
It could wait. He would be back in a few weeks, and then she would have a lifetime to tell him how much she cared.
Part 48
April 10, 1861
Darcy left for Virginia at dawn. As he left the house, he wished that Elizabeth were there, kissing him good-bye and telling him to hurry back to her. Instead there was only an empty house.
Sighing, Darcy turned away from the house. Soon enough, if all went well, he would be back and Elizabeth would be at his side.
With an optimism few people noticed about him, Darcy did not dwell on what would happen is all didn't go well.
April 12, 1861
The quiet spring morning was shattered when Confederate soldiers under the command of General Beauregard fired on Fort Sumter. After a day and a half of bombardment, the fort was forced to surrender.
The war had begun.
Elizabeth heard of this when her father returned from a meeting with some of the senators. They had been one of the first groups to get word of what had happened.
When Mr. Bennet told Elizabeth, she was so surprised that she had to hold onto a chair to steady herself. "This means war, doesn't it?" she asked.
"I'm afraid it does, Elizabeth." He started to leave, then looked back. "I have to return to the Capitol. I came back to tell you to begin packing. You, your sisters and your mother are returning to Longbourn; you'll be safer there."
Elizabeth was left with the unenviable task of telling her mother this. Predictably, her mother went into hysterics. That, in turn, prevented Elizabeth from getting a chance to speak to Jane about her real worries until that night.
"They're still there, Jane," she explained as they prepared for bed. "Fitzwilliam and Mr. Bingley."
"Surely they will return," Jane replied. "After all, neither Virginia nor North Carolina has left the Union."
"Oh Jane," Elizabeth sighed. "I wish I had your confidence. But Fitzwilliam told me once that if it came to war, Virginia would probably secede."
"He, at least, will return, Elizabeth. He loves you."
"I know he does. But that doesn't mean he would not fight on the side of his state. I know him; he is loyal to a fault. No, I do not believe he will come back. Nor Mr. Bingley, for that matter."
Part 49
On April 15, President Lincoln issued a proclamation calling for seven hundred fifty thousand militiamen. On April 17, Virginia seceded.
If any hope had lingered in Elizabeth's heart that Darcy would return to her, that certainly ended it. And she had hoped. She would have denied it, of course, but part of her wished and hoped he'd come back.
Not so very far away in Virginia, Darcy felt much the same. He'd hoped, right up until the moment they announced their secession, that it would come out differently. But it didn't. So instead of returning to D.C., he instead found his way to Pemberley and his sister. He needed advice and love, and, when a fiancée is unavailable, a sister is the best thing.
Georgianna sat down with him and listened without saying a word as he talked about the secession, the war.... and Elizabeth. When he finished, she hesitantly asked, "That isn't all, is it?"
Darcy ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "No. I - I've been offered a commission in the Confederate Army. A captain of the Virginian forces."
"Do you plan to accept it?" Georgianna already knew the answer. She knew her brother better even than Elizabeth, and Elizabeth would not have needed to ask the question.
"I already have." At the look on Georgianna's face, he added, "I have to. I didn't want to secede, but this is my state, my home. I can't not defend and fight for it."
His sister sighed; she had known it. "I wish there were something I could say that would dissuade you, but your mind is already made up." For a moment, she paused. "Does Richard fight?"
"Richard?" Darcy gave her a blank look.
"Our cousin. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, United States Army." It came out slightly exasperated.
"I don't know," Darcy stammered out. It hadn't occurred to him until that very moment that he would be on the opposite side as his cousin, unless Richard resigned. And since Richard was as stubborn as the rest of his family, that was unlikely.
Georgianna put a hand on Darcy's shoulder, silently assuring him of her love and support. She couldn't help but think of a passage from the Bible:
From now on a household of five will be divided, three against two and two against three; a father will be divided against his son and a son against his father, a mother against her daughter and a daughter against her mother, a mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and a daughter-in-law against her mother.
Part 50
From now on a household of five will be divided, three against two and two against three; a father will be divided against his son and a son against his father, a mother against her daughter and a daughter against her mother, a mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and a daughter-in-law against her mother.
That passage from the Bible had never seemed so appropriate to Elizabeth. It didn't say, however, that a wife would be divided against her husband.
Her only comfort, such as it was, was Jane, who felt the pain of separation almost as keenly. Elizabeth didn't know what to do: tell her sister that Mr. Bingley loved her, but would probably not return, or remain completely silent and let Jane go on thinking she had misjudged his feelings for her. Her heart ached for her sister, but neither way would end the grief.
By April 21, most of the house was packed. They would be leaving in a few days for Longbourn.
Elizabeth was finishing her packing when a maid knocked on her bedroom door. "This letter just arrived for you, Miss Elizabeth."
She took the letter, and her heart almost stopped when she saw the seal. "Fitzwilliam," she breathed. Hastily, she broke the seal and opened the letter.
Dearest Elizabeth,I hardly know how to begin this. You will know by now that Virginia has seceded. Though it breaks my heart to leave you, I must go with it. I realize that such a decision amounts to a betrayal of you, but please, I beg you, allow me to explain my reasoning.
I cannot abandon my state. As much as I disagree with the decisions made here, this is my place, my home, and these are my countrymen. I cannot stand against them. I hope you can understand this, even if you cannot forgive me for it. Somehow I know that you will, that you would be the same way in this place.
Elizabeth, as hard as this may be for you to believe, I will come back to you. No war lasts forever, and someday there will be peace between the North and the South, I know it. Then, if you're still willing, I'll bring you home to Pemberley as my love, my wife.
Until then, always know that I love you, with all that I am. And I will love you, forever. If you ever need me, all you have to do is call for me, and I'll come.
Yours eternally,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth set the letter down and cried a few more tears. Fitzwilliam knew her so well. She would do as he had already done. Then she put down the letter. She knew what she was going to do now.
Part 51
April 22, 1861
The next morning, Elizabeth rose early. She had a plan in mind, something that she had to do, but she knew her family - notably her father - would forbid her if they found out about it. So she had to go before anyone else was up.
"Where are you going, Elizabeth?" Jane asked from the door of her room.
Elizabeth turned around. "Jane, I have something that I have to do. Please don't stop me."
Jane sat down on the edge of Elizabeth's bed. "Tell me." So Elizabeth sat down and explained what she meant to do. When she was finished, Jane shook her head. "I can't let you go like this. It's not right."
"Jane, I will do it, whether you let me or not." She took her sister's hand. "There is something I must tell you, in case." Softly, she told her sister what Darcy had told her, that Bingley did indeed love Jane very much and had intended to return and propose. "Do not stop believing in him, Jane. I think, when the war is over, that he will return to you as surely as Fitzwilliam will return to me." She stood. "Now I have to go, before Father wakes up."
"Elizabeth, wait." Their eyes met. "I'm going with you."
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was at his desk going over some requests that he couldn't hope to fulfill when someone knocked on his door. "Come in," he called distractedly.
His aide leaned in. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Jane Bennet to see you, sir. Do you have a few minutes to spare them?"
"Of course. Send them in." The aide opened the door fully and let the two young women in. They were both as beautiful as the Colonel remembered them being, but there was a difference to their looks, as though they had matured completely since he had last seen them. "Ladies, how may I help you?"
The sisters exchanged a quick glance, then Elizabeth began. "It is we who would like to help you, Colonel."
"Miss Bennet, while I appreciate your offer, I really don't know how you could help me. Not that I don't need help, but you are ladies, and so ill-equipped to assist in military matters."
"Don't be so quick to judge us, Colonel," Elizabeth argued. "You have soldiers who will be wounded; they will need nurses. We do know at least a little about nursing. And how much knowledge does it take to bandage a gun shot wound or cool a fever?"
"No," the Colonel said. "No. You are ladies, and a battlefield is no place for women. I cannot allow this."
"Colonel," Jane said softly, speaking for the first time. "Please, think of us. We are women, we cannot go to war. But the men we care about can and do and have. We can't sit at home and wait patiently for their return, when they might never return."
"You mean my cousin and Charles Bingley." Jane nodded, and Colonel Fitzwilliam looked from one sister to the other. "I cannot argue with two Bennet women, especially not when they are completely right. Very well, ladies."
Part 52
When Jane and Elizabeth returned to their home later, their father was on his way out. "Where have you been?" he demanded. "I was just going to look for you."
"Father, we have something to tell you. Why don't you come inside and sit down, while Jane gets Mama," Elizabeth said, taking her father's arm.
Mr. Bennet let himself get pulled inside and shown to a seat while Jane went to fetch her mother. "What is this all about, Jane?" Mrs. Bennet began. "Oh, my nerves! You don't know how it upset me to discover you were gone this morning! And Elizabeth too, though she has always done as she pleased!"
"Mama," Elizabeth said. "We'll explain it all to you if you give us the chance." She exchanged a look with Jane, then began in a low voice. "We aren't going back to Trenton with you. We're staying here for the time being, then we're going South to work as nurses with the Army."
"Oh my poor girls! It isn't right for two girls like you to work like that!" Mrs. Bennet wailed.
"Much though it pains me to agree with you, Mrs. Bennet, you are entirely right. My daughters are not going to risk their lives tending soldiers all over the South. No, I forbid it," Mr. Bennet said.
"No, Father," Jane interrupted. "You can't forbid us to do this anymore. Our loves, our future husbands, are there, risking their lives for what they believe in. We can't and won't do less."
For a moment, everyone stared at Jane. She had always been the quiet one, letting Elizabeth be the spirited daughter. Everyone had underestimated her, though; just because she was quiet didn't mean that she didn't have any spirit, only that she preferred a more subtle way.
"Whether you forbid us or not," Elizabeth added in a softer voice, "we are going to stay and help. We've already spoken to Colonel Fitzwilliam about it."
Mr. Bennet sighed and shook his head. "I never thought -- It seems as though our daughters have grown up, Mrs. Bennet."
The next morning, Elizabeth and Jane saw their family off. Then they finished the chores needed to close up the house and waited for Colonel Fitzwilliam's summons.
February 1865
Elizabeth rocked back on her feet, struggling to contain all her emotions. The days that had followed had been difficult and painful, and she didn't like remembering them, or the beginning of the war. Beneath her foot, a twig cracked, the sound loud in the silence of the night. The officer's head snapped around.
"Who's there?" he challenged.
She stepped forward out of the shadows. "It is I, Mr. Darcy."
Part 53
"Elizabeth," he said. "No, you cannot truly be here. This is a dream, like all the others. "
"No, Fitzwilliam. It is Elizabeth." She crossed to the bed and sat down beside him. "I cannot believe I did not recognize you sooner. You have changed."
"As have you," Darcy said, reaching up one hand to caress her hair. "When I saw you this afternoon, I thought it was you, but you were gone so quickly, before my head was clear. I couldn't be sure."
Elizabeth touched his face gently, tracing a scar along his cheek. "What happened?" she asked.
"Too close of a call," Darcy replied casually. Elizabeth would never know just how close that had been. He caught her hand as he noticed something. "You still wear my ring. Does that mean I am forgiven?"
"I was wrong to accuse you that way," Elizabeth replied. She was trying to come to terms with the man before her. He was not the same man she had loved four years ago, and she wasn't sure yet whether she still loved the man he had become. Just the knowledge that the people she had tended for four years had been the ones he had wounded was difficult for her to adjust to. She knew, too, that she wasn't the same woman, and he would have to learn to love her as she had become.
Darcy looked into her eyes. His thoughts paralled hers exactly. Fours years was a very long time, and war had changed them both in deeper ways than time alone could have done.
Elizabeth didn't know what to think as she met Darcy's eyes. She had hoped, all the time they were apart, that she would find him, and everything would be right again. But this wasn't how she had ever imagined their reunion taking place, and she did not know how she felt about it.
He held her hand. "Elizabeth, these four years, I - "
"Hush," she interrupted. "Don't say anything tonight. There is time enough for all the words to be said when we have had a chance to think through all that has happened. For now, it's enough just to be together."
"Yes," Darcy replied. "Yes, it is."
She looked at him thoughtfully. She hoped he couldn't hear how her heart was beating. He was the only man who had ever made her heart pound that way. "You should sleep. You were hurt and need a chance to recover."
In a moment of boldness, Darcy tugged Elizabeth's hand and pulled her against him. Resisting the urge to cover her face with kisses, he settled her so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. "Only if you will stay with me until I fall asleep."
Elizabeth was glad he couldn't see the blush on her face. "If that is what it takes, I will stay."
They sat in silence for some time, until the rhythm of Elizabeth's breathing convinced Darcy that she was asleep. Then he too feel asleep.
Part 54
If the others in the camp were surprised to find Elizabeth Bennet asleep next to a Confederate soldier, no one said anything. A few of them knew of her romance, so it was easy to presume this was her Virginian love.
But no one speculated or made any comment where Elizabeth could hear. They would not do anything to give her pain.
Elizabeth herself had been somewhat surprised when she had woken up next to Darcy. But it was a pleasant surprise, so that made it right.
That was, however, the last time she saw him that morning. She had other patients who needed her attention. She did come back to sit with him in the afternoon, though. With her, she brought a half-finished letter to Jane.
"You won't mind if I write to Jane while I am with you, will you?" she asked.
"Not at all. How is she?"
"She was well, last time I heard from her. The war is very hard on her though. She, who always believed the best of anyone, is trying to face the fact that people aren't always good. I worry about her."
"Why are you so far from her, then?" Darcy asked softly.
"Fortunes of war," Elizabeth said with half a smile. "I was trying to find you; she is trying to find Charles."
"She has not found him then?"
"Not that I have heard. But the mail here is not always quick. Letters go missing not infrequently. But I had hoped you might have more word of him than I."
"The last time I knew anything, he was in General Robert Hoke's command. I know that they were supposed to be involved in an attack on Fort Fisher in December."
Elizabeth froze. Then she began again to write, and said in a forcedly cheerful voice, "I'll mention that to Jane. Maybe that will help her."
But Darcy had already noted her pause. "What is wrong, Elizabeth?"
She tried to stammer that nothing was wrong, but the look in his eyes stopped her. "Fitzwilliam, that attack did take place, and was successful. A month later, the fort was again attacked; this time by Union soldiers. It... The Confederates lost, and the casualties were very high." Her voice broke.
Darcy bit his lip and looked down. "Are you saying that Charles is..." He couldn't bring himself to finish.
"No! No... But it wasn't good, my love. The surviving Confederates surrendered, so that is probably where he is now, if indeed he was even there. Perhaps he was not even there." She was frowning as she tried to soothe him.
"Yes, Elizabeth. You are right." He took her hand in his. "There is nothing I could do now, in any case. We will just have to wait and see."
Part 55
She laid her head down on her pillow. The thoughts of Fitzwilliam and Richard kept her awake for a long time.
Richard, Colonel Fitzwilliam, had been very good to her. For four years, he had taken care of her as she had needed it. He had been, in fact, a devoted suitor, though he had never used those words.
Elizabeth was not a complete innocent. She knew that Richard would have courted her if it weren't for her engagement to Fitzwilliam. She knew that if she were to break that engagement, Richard would offer her his hand so quickly.
What was she going to tell Richard?
The next morning, she gave two letters to Richard's messenger. One was, of course, the letter to Jane. Richard always made sure the letters were delivered; how she didn't know. She suspected, from something he had once said, that they "accidentally" got mixed in with military correspondences. The other letter was to Richard himself, saying that Darcy was in the camp.
The second letter she had sent without telling Fitzwilliam. She wasn't sure if he would want Richard to know or not. There were a lot of things she didn't know, all of a sudden.
The messenger had also brought a short note to her from Richard, which she read quickly. The war wouldn't last much longer; the Confederates didn't have the resources to hold out, especially since Sherman had burned Atlanta.
To Elizabeth, this was good news. This war had gone on too long, and too many lives had been lost already. But an end to the war.... What would that mean for their country? What would it mean for her... and Fitzwilliam?
If there had once been a small separation between them because of where they lived, how much worse would it be now? If the South lost - and it seemed likely they would - could Fitzwilliam still want to marry her? Or would the gap between North and South be too great even for them?
Lost in these sad and oppressive thoughts, Elizabeth failed to notice the person coming over to her until he sat down beside her.
Part 56
"Elizabeth," Darcy said softly. "Elizabeth, is something wrong?" She shook her head soundlessly. "You can't fool me; your face gives you away."
"Another time, Fitzwilliam." She looked up at him. "What are you doing out here? You should be in bed."
"I talked to one of the other nurses -- Anne, I think her name is -- and she said it would be all right if I came out here to sit with you. As she observed, it is my arm that is hurt, not my legs."
Elizabeth smiled to herself. She dearly loved Anne and would thank her for this at some point. "Did you wish to sit with me, or was that merely Anne's stipulation?"
Darcy shook his head at her. "I love you, Elizabeth. I feel as though I need to spend every possible moment with you, to help me get through the times when we can not be together."
She handed him Colonel Fitzwilliam's note. "I think any separations from here on will be of our own choices." She could tell he wasn't pleased with what he read from the way his muscles tensed, and so she moved to head that off before he became truly angry. "Fitzwilliam, why does this make you angry? Because you believe what you were fighting for? Or because of your pride?"
He looked up, startled. Elizabeth had stated the case quite correctly, and he was surprised at her astute understanding. They both knew that he hadn't believed in the South's cause. "You know me a little too well, I think, dearest Elizabeth. Better than I know myself, perhaps." He sighed and shook his head. "It is hard to believe the South has lost; it will be an ending of more than a war." But he chose not to elaborate, and Elizabeth didn't ask, knowing that he would tell her in his own time what he meant.
It was strange, she thought. Nothing was as she had imagined it. If someone had told her four years earlier that she would be in a field hospital caring for her fiancé, who was fighting on the opposite side as her, she would have said they were crazy. But here she was. And there was Fitzwilliam. And he was her fiancé, and she loved him.
Silently she slid her fingers through his and sat there, holding his hand, until Anne came to get them.
Part 57
Anne and Elizabeth talked that night before they went to bed. It was important to both of them, for Elizabeth missed Jane, and Anne had never had a true confidant.
"Anne, what should I do? I love him, as much as I ever did. But there are barriers between us. And the war has changed everyone, and I know I haven't seen the depth of that change in Fitzwilliam."
Anne looked at her friend with that mixture of sweetness and seriousness that was so much a part of her. In that characteristic alone did she resemble Jane. "I can't tell you what to do, Elizabeth. It is your life, and his. I can't even give you any good advice, because I threw away my own chance at happiness." She paused for a moment, then added, "I will say this: if you truly love him, and he you, there is nothing that can prevent your happiness but yourselves."
Elizabeth was silent for several minutes as she pondered this wisdom. "What happened?"
"Hmm?" Anne had begun to fall asleep while waiting for Elizabeth.
"You said you gave up you chance of happiness. What happened?"
"Oh." Anne waved her hand while she yawned. "I fell in love with someone, and I believe he loved me, so we became engaged. My father refused his consent, saying that he wasn't good enough for me, an Elliot of Kellynch; I couldn't marry just any Northern soldier who came along. So, we ended our engagement, and I haven't seen him since." Though this was a sad tale, Anne showed neither bitterness nor excessive sorrow.
"How long ago was that?"
"Oh, about five years." Anne's studied indifference convinced Elizabeth that her friend cared more than she wanted to let on. She was sure that, if asked properly, Anne would be able to tell her the exact number of years, months, and days since then.
"But you've been a nurse since the war began. Why, if you're from the South?"
"Because the South is wrong. I won't defend something that I don't believe in." Anne yawned again. "Besides, it's not as though I don't have any ties to the North. My mother's family is from New York, dating back to the Revolution." After a third yawn, Anne added, "Can we finish this in the morning, Elizabeth? I really am tired, and we'll have plenty of work tomorrow."
"Of course, Anne. Sleep well." For several minutes they were silent. "Anne, what was his name?"
"Frederick. Frederick Wentworth." Anne's voice faded off the words as though she were drifting off to sleep, and when Elizabeth looked over, Anne was indeed asleep.
Much as she wanted to follow her friend's example, Elizabeth lay awake for some time, thinking over Anne's story. She didn't want to lose Fitzwilliam the way Anne had lost her Frederick.
She knew what she would tell Richard now. With that thought uppermost in her mind, she fell asleep.
Part 58
March 9, 1865
It was another week before Elizabeth could talk to Colonel Fitzwilliam. And through that week, she was frequently so busy that she didn't even think about it. Darcy helped as much as he could, worrying about the shadows under Elizabeth's eyes. He didn't know, but he suspected, that she was very concerned about Jane. He hadn't heard her use her sister's name more than a few times in the last week.
"It's been a long time, Fitzwilliam," she conceded when he pressed her for an answer. "Too long, maybe."
He wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, love," he murmured into her hair. "I'm sure Jane is fine. She just hasn't had time to write, or the letter hasn't come yet."
"But what if something did happen? I would never forgive myself; I was the one who decided to volunteer first."
Darcy just held her, letting her relax at her own speed. He marveled again at his love, who felt so deeply, yet never let anyone know; he doubted he could have that kind of restraint.
It was there that Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam found them. For a moment, he just stood there, watching them. If there had been someone to watch and if that person had seen the Colonel's face, they might have said that he realized then that Elizabeth belonged completely and utterly to his cousin. They would have been right.
Fitzwilliam was about to say something to get their attention when Elizabeth stepped back from Darcy and wiped her eyes. In doing so, she caught sight of the Colonel.
"Colonel," she said, "how are you?"
"Well enough, Miss Bennet, and very grateful for your letter a week ago." He placed an envelope into her hands. "This came today for you."
She turned to Darcy. "It is from Jane!"
Darcy touched her face gently. "Go read it. Richard and I can entertain ourselves for this time."
She smiled and excused herself hurriedly. Finding a spot to sit, she opened the letter.
Dearest Elizabeth,You must forgive me for not writing sooner; I know you will have been worried. Let me assure you that I am well, physically and emotionally.
I am so pleased that you and Mr. Darcy are reunited. I know better than any how you have felt without him these four years. You do not mention, though, how things stand between you. Do you still intend to marry him? Note I don't ask if you still love him; I know that you do, your letter fairly breathes it.
In answer to your question, yes, I have finally found Charles. He was in the attack on Fort Fisher, and was among the wounded when the Union soldiers regained the fort. We -- the nurses here -- have done the best we could, but he may never walk without a limp again. Charles has changed, though. He is not the same light-hearted young man I knew four years ago. Instead, he has grown cynical and bitter, and although I want nothing more than to know that he is well, he pushes me away from him. Perhaps Mr. Darcy can help, based on his knowledge of Charles and the South. Otherwise, I don't know what to do.
Please write to me soon. I miss my sister and my confidant, and I look forward to the day when we can be together again.
Always,
Jane
Part 59
Elizabeth read her letter, and sat for some time in silent meditation, thinking on what Jane had said. Charles.... grown bitter and cynical... pushes me away... Charles Bingley was the absolute last person that Elizabeth would ever have thought to grow either cynical or bitter. Her own words came back to her: the war has changed everyone. Some more than others, she saw now.
Could her Fitzwilliam help him? Only Charles could answer that. But if he couldn't, than there was perhaps no one who could. Fitzwilliam and Charles had been friends for years; they knew each other better than anyone else. She would show him the letter and see what he said.
While she was so occupied, Darcy and the Colonel were talking. If someone, a stranger, were to listen to them, he would never suspect that they were involved in a war, for opposite sides. They talked about many things, though conspicuously not politics... or Elizabeth. To someone who knew them well, like Georgianna, an underlying tension would be apparent, as though the two men cared as much for each other as they ever had, but hesitated to express it for fear of the other's rejection.
Elizabeth paused to observe them as she returned to where they were. So like and yet so unlike at the same time. She cared very much for them both, in such different ways. Someday, she hoped, things would be well between them. Maybe when the war was over...
She took her seat beside Darcy and handed him the letter. He took it in one hand, and with the other, took her hand in his. He read it while Elizabeth waited, squeezing his hand at irregular intervals, whenever she thought he needed it. When he finished, he set the letter down. "It seems that Charles is another casualty of this war," was his simple comment, and Elizabeth knew he didn't refer to Charles' physical injuries. "I'll do what I can, but he may be beyond even my help."
Looking into Darcy's eyes, she saw a weariness that she had never seen, as though he had lost whatever shred of hope had held him up through this war. But she understood this, without knowing how. It was the same way she'd feel if Jane ever seemed disillusioned. Charles was Darcy's reassurance that there was something good and worth fighting for in the world. If Charles had stopped believing that, though, then what did Darcy have to believe in?
She touched his cheek gently. "You always have me," she whispered, trying to put all her love into that phrase.
"I know," he replied equally softly. "I know."
Part 60
For the next few days, Darcy was preoccupied. Elizabeth was the only one who could bring him out of it, and she often had her hands too full to try. With the end of the war in sight, the military commanders were increasing the movement of injured personnel North. Not just the injured either; nurses and doctors were being pulled out as well. Since their camp was fairly well-established and not near any new combat, it was being used as one of the main stops on the way north. And Elizabeth, being one of the first nurses at the camp, often had the task of finding places for everyone to sleep.
She always gave up her bed, and, while Darcy would give her his bed or at least share it with her, he began to wonder if she weren't stretching herself too far. She was still worrying about Jane and Charles, and she insisted on taking care of all her patients, as well as helping with whatever men were staying with them. He also knew that despite his best attempts to make her see otherwise, she still worried about what would happen to them when the war was over.
Finally, Darcy came completely out of his meditative study and put his foot down. He himself was all healed except for his arm which was still in a sling. So, one morning, as the latest group of people was getting ready to leave, he came up behind Elizabeth and told her to go back to bed.
"But - " Elizabeth began.
"But nothing," he replied firmly. "You're not doing anything that I can't do for you. You, however, didn't sleep much last night. Or, if you can't sleep, finish your letter to Jane; I've finished mine to Charles." He held the letter out to her.
With a faint smile, she took it. "Call me if you need me." He nodded and gave her a push in.
The others n the camp hid faint smiles of their own. It seemed that Elizabeth Bennet had met her match at last.
Once the group was finally off, Darcy went looking for his lady. He found her fast asleep on his bed, a finished letter beside her. With a smile, he pulled the covers over her and kissed her forehead. "Sleep well, dearest Elizabeth."
When Elizabeth woke, she found her letter gone, and where she couldn't say for sure, though she suspected Fitzwilliam had taken it. She looked outside and saw with some shock that the sun was setting. She'd slept the day away.
She sat up, and, as if the movement had been a summons, Anne stopped beside her bed and set down a bowl of soup. "You missed lunch. This should keep you until dinner though."
"Anne, why did you let me sleep so long?" Elizabeth asked, even as she reached for the soup. "Surely there was work to be done."
"Not so much today," Anne replied calmly. It took a lot to ruffle Anne's calm. "No one new came through, and you were tired. You've been doing your share and then some. Besides, Captain Darcy wouldn't let anyone wake you."
Elizabeth laughed a little, well able to imagine her love doing that, especially with his air of Southern gentility.
Anne smiled fondly at her friend. "Now I know you're feeling better; I haven't heard you laugh like that in days. One full night's sleep with no interr - " At Elizabeth's attempted protest, she added, "Don't argue with you nurse," until Elizabeth subsided. "As I was saying, with no interruptions and in your own bed for a change, and you'll be almost well again."
Elizabeth nodded and Anne went on her way. Later that evening, when Elizabeth finally got a chance to see Fitzwilliam, she just watched him for several
Part 61
March 14, 1865
A messenger from Richard had come by early in the morning to collect the letters to Jane and Charles. That evening, Richard himself came by.
After dinner, when he finally sat down with Elizabeth, Darcy, and Michael Gerald, the doctor in charge of the camp, he didn't seem to know where to begin. "This camp is breaking up," he said finally, with no preamble. "We've moved almost everyone through who can be moved, and it's time for you all to go too." He fixed Elizabeth with a look. "And no, Nurse Bennet, you may not move to another camp."
Elizabeth shook her head. "I wasn't going to ask that. What I was going to ask is, what will happen to our patients, the Confederate ones?" She carefully did not look at Darcy as she said this. For the sake of formality, they all needed to pretend like their was nothing going on between them for the moment.
Colonel Fitzwilliam did look directly at Darcy, though. "Captain Darcy, you are the ranking Confederate officer here. Technically, I have to put you and all the men here under arrest, but, if you'll give me your word as an officer and a gentleman that no one will attempt anything, you'll travel as free men until we reach Pennsylvania."
Darcy didn't hesitate. "You have my word."
"Good. Now, you need to be ready to move out in three days." Fitzwilliam looked around at them. "I have to go see to some other tasks, but I will be back in a day or two to help move you all."
Dr. Gerald and Darcy quickly fell into a discussion about the best way to move the men as Fitzwilliam left. Elizabeth followed after him. "Richard!" she called.
He turned around. "Elizabeth."
"You're leaving already?" she asked.
"I have to. I... have things to see to."
"That isn't all, is it?" Elizabeth said, was more a statement than a question.
"No." Richard took Elizabeth's hand in his. "Elizabeth, you know how I feel about you. And I know how you feel for my cousin. But if anything ever happens, if you ever need me, all you have to do is let me know. I will do anything for you."
"Richard --"
"No, don't say anything. There isn't anything to say. You love Darcy, and that's the way it should be. Just remember this." He didn't give her a chance to say anything, just strode to his horse, mounted and rode away.
Elizabeth stood there, watching him leave. She knew she belonged with Darcy, and she knew there was someone else for Richard. She just wasn't exactly sure who yet.
minutes., Finally, he quirked an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"
"Nothing," she said. "I love you."
Part 62
March 17, 1865
The camp moved out that day. Everything had been packed up as best they could and put into the wagons that they had. They didn't have enough wagons for everyone, so the worst wounded were put in them, and everyone else walked.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had sent some men to guide them and to guard them. He was not coming with them, and Elizabeth was very sorry for it. She had come to depend on the Colonel, on his friendship as well as his help. But at the same time, she understood why he wasn't coming. It hurt him, to see her with Darcy, for all that they were cousins and friends.
Darcy walked along beside her. They never touched, except when she stumbled and he reached out to steady her. They didn't speak either. They had fought again as they were leaving. Elizabeth was determined to walk, because she was perfectly healthy, and others were not. Darcy wanted to put her in a wagon for no better, though no worse, a reason that that she was a woman. At least, on the surface, that was what they had argued about.
Beneath that surface layer, though, their argument had been about something far more important. Elizabeth knew that. Darcy wanted to protect her, which she understood, but she was only exerting her own strong sense of independence and self-reliance that she had learned in the four years.
Darcy, for his part, wanted to apologize. He knew Elizabeth was capable of taking care of herself. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel that if he didn't hold on to her and keep her safe, he would lose her. He had lost so much already.
Spring was coming back to the South, and Darcy looked for the signs more now than he had ever before. Maybe the new growth would cover some of the terrible remnants of this war.
Part 63
That night, as the whole group sat around their fire, the men told stories of the war. Some were humorous, some much less so.
Elizabeth, sitting on the edge of the group, saw in this the beginning of healing, not only for these men, but for the country she loved so much. If men who had faced each other across a battlefield could come together this way, surely their leaders could do the same.
Darcy came and sat next to her. For a time, they sat in silence, neither knowing exactly what to say.
"Fitzwilliam, I --" "Elizabeth, you --"
Elizabeth laughed a little. "Go ahead, Fitzwilliam."
He touched her cheek gently. "You were right to be angry with me. I shouldn't have tried to coddle you. I know you don't need me that way, and I. . . I'm sorry."
"I was wrong to snap back. I love you." She settled her head on his shoulder. "Sometimes, it's the people we love who can frustrate us the most. I'll try and do better."
"So will I. We have a long way to go yet, you and I."
"We'll get there. I know we will."
The group made slow progress north. With so many injured, they covered barely fifteen miles a day. Darcy brooded often, especially as he began to recognize the countryside through which they traveled.
One day, he awoke out of his brown study when he realized he knew this land intimately, almost as well as he knew his own self. But the ruined buildings hardly matched the thriving town of his memory.
"Fitzwilliam!" he called, forgetting in his horror their unspoken agreement to treat each other as strangers.
The Colonel rode back to him. "What is it, Darcy?"
Darcy gestured to the town around them. "Do you recognize it?"
For a moment, the Colonel's face reflected his confusion. Then his face paled. "Lambton," he breathed. The cousins had, in better days, spent many happy days in the small town, which owed much of its prosperity to Pemberley.
"Pemberley," Darcy said grimly. "I have to go, Richard. I have to find Georgiana."
"Take my horse. We'll follow as quickly as we can."
Without another word, Darcy swung up into the saddle Fitzwilliam had just vacated and urged the startled horse into a gallop.
Elizabeth walked over to the Colonel. "Where is he going?"
"Pemberley. We're less than five miles from the main house. I hope to God there's still something standing and that Georgiana is all right." He turned away before she could reply and called to the men to change direction.
Darcy never noticed the distance to Pemberley. He knew the road from Lambton and could have guided a horse along it in his sleep. Every new step showed him some new sign of the devastation, and he prayed that his sister was still alive.
He pulled up in front of what had been the main building. One of the side wings was gone altogether, the rest was gray-tinged with smoke and showed less care than it should. Darcy could only stare in horror. Despite everything he had seen, he had always kept Pemberley safe and untouched in his mind.
The front door opened and Georgiana stood framed in the doorway.
Darcy dismounted and walked over to her. "Do you know me, Georgiana?"
"William," she replied. "I've dreamt of you coming home so often, I thought I was dreaming again."
He pulled her into an embrace. "I am no dream, little sister."