I have loved
And I have lost

Chapter One

Posted onThursday, 18 August 2005,

Charlotte Collins, forty year old widow with two children sat in a worn chair in her living room. When her husband William Collins had died she had not been removed from Longbourn as she had feared and the home left out to distant relatives. Instead the new owner of her late husband's properties had been so benevolent that he had said that she could live there with only a modest fee until her daughters married. Charlotte's daughters were the only thing that kept her going at times, L*** knows that sometimes she would have abandoned all sense of decorum and sense if their angelic little faces had not been gazing up at her at her times of weakness. That was what had sustained Charlotte during the tedious years of marriage to Collins. She recalled vividly telling her best friend Elizabeth Bennet that she did not need to marry for love, only marry into a station where she would be comfortable. However she found that whenever she met Elizabeth Darcy or Jane Bingley and saw how their husbands doted on their children – boys and girls alike – she envied them. William Collins had not been a bad husband or father but upon seeing that neither of the children Charlotte had produced were sons and heirs, he had cut himself off from her even more. That was a good thing but it did leave Charlotte lonely at times.

The Collins children were two girls who, in the year of Charlotte's fortieth birthday, were ten and eight. The eldest of the two, Catherine Emmeline Collins was already turning into a very beautiful young lady. Although she was blessed with boundless energy, much like Elizabeth Bennet had had when she was a child. Collins had persisted in calling her Catherine in honour of his patron, while Charlotte knew her daughter hated that name and lady so addressed her as Emmeline. The youngest was Annabeth – the formation of the name having come from Collins wanting to call his daughter after his noble patron's lovely daughter, and Charlotte wanting to name her after Elizabeth. In the end they had compromised. Although with satisfaction on neither side.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh, incandescent patroness to Collins, had died soon after Annabeth's birth. Her humble servant was sent into a period of deep mourning and not even the comfort of knowing that Rosings was going to stay in the de Bourgh family could comfort him. Miss de Bourgh, now Lady Anne, had still not married and as her health had lasted longer than expected there was reason to believe that she was not to be on the earth for much longer. This thought had sent Collins into a panic, the threat of losing his living was at least enough to get him out of the melancholy that had been hanging over him since Lady Catherine's death.

The panic had only been abated when a letter from Mr Bennet's solicitors reached Hunsford. Charlotte still remembered the day.

Seven years previous

Charlotte Collins was busy playing with her young children when she heard the clatter of horse-hooves against the gravel drive. Her husband, who had been in his own room which over-looked the road called out, “Oh Mrs Collins! What is that! There is a horse and a man riding it. I declare it will be that dreadful, piteous news that Lady Anne will have followed her dear mother into the afterlife!” The mournful tone that had been present in his voice since Lady Catherine's death a year ago had a hint of morbid curiosity as if he would prefer to hear bad news just so he could rejoice in complaining. “Then we shall all be ruined! For there will be only Mr Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam to take over, and they will abandon us in our time of need!”

Charlotte knew that she should have been concerned about her husband's apparent decline into Mrs Bennet-type behaviour. She should have been worried for her children's sake. But she wasn't.

“Husband, neither Mr Darcy nor Ri-” Charlotte stuttered and stopped. Upon regaining her breath she tried again. “Neither of them would turn us out. Elizabeth would see to that.” She however was not sure that Elizabeth would make sure that all the Collins family would be taken care of. Elizabeth was a very good godmother to Annabeth and loved Emmeline as well, her and Charlotte's friendship had been mended somewhat but Elizabeth and her husband could not stand William Collins. Colonel Fitzwilliam was of the same belief. He thought Collins, rightly enough, a fool and a simpering sycophant as well.

The messenger had entered the house and was led to the study where Collins was. Charlotte hoped her husband would have enough sense to have cleared up his ruffled appearance and sorrowful expression. After a few minutes of waiting in silence she heard the messenger exit again. Her husband did not come. She waited again. Still nothing. If Lady Anne had died then Collins would have been in floods of very noisy tears, so it seemed as though that was not the case.

“Charlotte! Charlotte! Oh we are rich! We are very rich!”

That was a very unexpected response.

Collins entered the room. His face was overtaken by the ugliest of red blotches that showed he was excited and his smile was toothy. Not something that anyone wanted to see since his teeth were extremely yellow and his breath reeked of onions and other vegetables that he had grown in his garden. Charlotte bore it with the composure she had often exerted throughout the length of their marriage, especially the wedding night. She shuddered to recollect what had happened then. If at the time it had felt revolting then reflection only made the memory worse.

“Charlotte, oh my dear! Mr Bennet has died! Oh it is happy news indeed. How long would you deem it proper to let the Bennets stay in my house? I believe that it would be a week after the funeral.”

Charlotte was disgusted at her husband's gloating, proud and self-important tone. She could only imagine what agony Elizabeth was feeling at that time. She had been so close to her father. Even after the move to Pemberley and the birth of a child there had still been a special bond between the two which not even Fitzwilliam Darcy could sever if he desired to.

“Mr Collins,” responded Charlotte in her best patient tone. “Do you not think that it is un-Christian of you to be rejoicing after so soon a death. Imagine what Mrs Bennet and her daughters must be suffering!”

“All that that trumped up matron will miss is Longbourn. My cousins are all married but two so there will not be much money missed for dowries. Let me remind you also that the eldest two daughters are wealthy themselves and the youngest... Well the less said about that h****t the better!”

“Sir, I would care if you would not speak so in front of the children.” Charlotte's ire was rising. “Also, I did not mean the financial suffering the Bennet family will have, I meant the loss of finding that someone they love in the world is gone forever!”

“Charlotte perhaps you have not been paying attention in Church,” Collins continued seemingly unaware of his wife's resentment. “For it is promised to all those who truly believe in the Lord that they will live eternally by His side.”

That was it for Charlotte. She realized the foolishness of marrying this creature and wished, not for the first time, that she had followed Lizzy's advice and married for love.

“Then husband why did you grieve, and continue to grieve, when Lady Catherine passed away if you knew that you would meet her again?”

“Charlotte!” Mr Collins was speechless for once in his life. He could not believe that his wife would disrespect the dear soul of Lady Catherine – wonderful woman that she was.

Charlotte had had enough. Picking up Annabeth and taking Emmeline by the hand she ran outside to a place where nothing could reach her. Not love. Not Collins. Nothing.

Except the children.

Present time, seven years later

Charlotte recollected the funeral of Mr Bennet with perfect clarity. There had been many mourners there for Mr Bennet was a respected, but not understood, man. The voluntary presence of the servants showed their liking for a kind master who they had served well. To look at the congregation in the Church, you would think that Mrs Bennet was the one suffering the most pain for she kept blubbering and shrieking. However if one was close enough to the Bennet family to know them well then it was easy to see that Mrs Bennet was not the saddest. Kitty Bennet had tears in her eyes and once again Charlotte had remarked to herself how much more grown up she was since Lydia's elopement. Mary, on the other hand, was looking dourly at the coffin of her father as if it were just another example of the 'frailties of the human condition”, Lydia had not attended the service. Charlotte found out later from Jane that she was in confinement for her third pregnancy in as many years. Mrs Bingley was in tears, although not quite as vocal as her mother or as open as Kitty about it. She clung to her husband's arm. The latter was failing miserably not to shed a tear. Though he hadn't fully appreciated his father-in-law's sense of humour, he had liked the man. Darcy was standing seemingly stoic at his wife's side, but from her vantage point Charlotte could see a watery reflection in his eyes. However the one that was suffering the most was Elizabeth.

She had kept her head raised defiantly throughout the service and had not shed a single tear. To some it might have seemed hard hearted but to her friend the harsh biting of her lower lip and the trembling of the clenched fists gave her emotions away. Elizabeth had not accepted any comfort from Mr Darcy but was independent of anybody. She stood when it was proper to stand, and sat when she was meant to be seated. Her body did not move but instead it was as straight as a board. The chest was taking normal breaths. Charlotte guessed that Lizzy had shed all the tears possible upon hearing the news. Darcy was looking at his wife with slight concern. She was not a woman to hide her emotions at the best of times, but he understood her need to show some respect to her father's memory. The pregnancy was giving her strength.

When the service was over and Mr Bennet buried in the grave-yard, they all went back to the Bennet residence. Well the Collins' officially, but the Bennets in heart. Charlotte walked towards Mr Darcy.

“Sir, I am afraid that I do not know how to broach this subject with Elizabeth or her family, but it is a point that I feel uneasy about.”

Darcy seemed slightly surprised that she had addressed him as such. “Mrs Collins please tell me whatever is bothering you. I will do all that is within my power to rectify it.”

“I believe that you are aware with the fact that Longbourn is entailed away to my husband.”

“I am.”

“Well, I do not feel easy about,” Charlotte stopped and searched for the right word, “about evicting Mrs Bennet and her daughters from Longbourn. Not at this time. It is my wish that they should remain here for a longer time than my husband desires.”

“And what would that time period be ma'am?”

“A week.” Charlotte was ashamed by Collins' impropriety and saw that Darcy was equally so. And angry as well. She continued when he did not respond. “I believe that Mr Collins might wish to remain at Hunsford to be close to Lady Anne.” And Lady Catherine, Charlotte added to herself silently.

“Could you convince your husband to remain?”

“I believe I could.”

At that moment said sycophant approached them. It was obvious that he had heard at least part of the conversation.

“Remain where, my dear?” His voice was sickeningly sweet in the presence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh's nephew.

“At Hunsford.”

“Hunsford!” Collins exclaimed. “That will not do at all! I demand that I remove to Longbourn as soon as the Bennets have moved out. A week at the maximum my dear! Heavens, what could have prompted this?” He had a thought. “Oh my dear Charlotte are you with child? Another little olive branch?” Before his wife had a chance to deny his claims he continued. “But how? I mean we have not been...husband and wife for a long time now. Not since my noble patroness' tragic death.”

Collins' high tone had attracted the attention of the occupants in the room. The disapproving looks from some and the curious glances of others had changed into astonished ones as Collins had referred to marital relations. The impropriety! Charlotte was aware of a door slamming during Collins' speech but had paid no heed to it. Suddenly she felt a strong urge to join whoever had fled to escape the embarrassment. At least Lizzy was not present. She had retired to her old room after the service. Charlotte did not know how she would have faced Lizzy again after this spectacle. Mrs Bennet likewise was not there. Charlotte was thankful for that because if she had heard Collins' speech she would have descended into even more shrieks and howls than usual.

“I am not with child.” Charlotte whispered harshly but it could still be heard in the deathly silent room. After a few minutes of lull in the conversation the people in the room had returned to their own business. The quiet mumblings of discreet discussions showing that. Charlotte could not look at Collins or Mr Darcy. Instead she walked out of the room and opened the door that led outside. Shutting it with as much quiet as she could she picked up her skirts and ran over to a little patch of grass and flowers which was out of view of the house. As she gathered her breath and ran her hands over her face in a gesture of hopelessness, she became aware of someone behind her.

She turned.

The sight which greeted her was both a delight and a horror. The person behind her was a man, in his late thirties. She could smell the stench of ale wafting off him. The bottle he had been drinking out of had been abandoned by his side.

“Are you having another little olive branch then?” He sneered at her. “Another little Collins to add to the family? Or perhaps its not his. Perhaps its another one of your admirers that's the father. From the way you were talking with him before I would say Darcy but I know how much he loves his wife.”

Charlotte stared in disbelief.

“Richard?”

Chapter Two

Posted on Sunday, 28 August 2005

“Richard?” Charlotte repeated. He was the last person she had expected to see at Mr Bennet's funeral. Come to think of it, she had not noticed him in Church and with Charlotte's sense of recognition, at least were Richard was concerned, she would have felt him if he was close. However, he might have had the decency to stay away from the Church while he was in such an intoxicated state. His clothes were pressed and neat but his face was flushed with the effects of alcohol. His eyes were another story. They were lifeless. Charlotte had never seen Richard in such a way before, there was always some ray of light in him. That was what had attracted her to him in the first place. She had been a lonely wife to a tedious minister and had almost been swept off her feet by the dashing Colonel with all his stories to tell about battles and other soldiers. That man had disappeared and in front of her there was only his shell.

“Oh is it Richard now? Not long ago it was Colonel Fitzwilliam. Do you remember?” He raised his voice to a bellow, “Do you?”

Charlotte could barely speak. She wasn't frightened of Richard, more saddened at his decline. “Yes.” she whispered.

He stumbled back into a garden seat and almost crashed into the bottle he had left. Then he put his hands over his face and Charlotte thought she heard sobbing.

“Charlotte, you destroyed me when we last met. The things you said.”

Charlotte remembered her words with something akin to shame, but not quite. “I do Richard. Believe me I do.”

He changed the subject, unwilling for them to get into another heart destroying conversation. So he went with anger instead of sadness. “Are you pregnant? Is it his or one of your men's?”

Charlotte could see that Richard would not be silenced on this subject until she told him the truth.

“Richard, I don't have any 'male friends'.” Apart from you she added silently to herself. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the look of scorn on his face from her previous comment she plunged on. “I'm not pregnant.” His head jolted up and the look of happiness and hope that graced his features was enough to make Charlotte realize why she had fallen in love with Richard in the first place. He had made her feel special, something which her husband had never managed to do, and he had been a very good source of intelligent conversation. Charlotte had never guessed how much she would miss Elizabeth's wit when she married, and if she had known that she would soon come to miss her sister Maria's chatter about clothes and the younger Miss Bennets then she would certainly never have got married.

“You're not?” She shook her head. He jumped up and the smile that had once caused all her sense to go flying out the window returned with full force. He approached her and she let him. Soon he was close and Charlotte made the mistake of looking up into his eyes which were glorious again. She was lost in them and any knowledge of what was happening around her disappeared. He leaned down and she rested against him. The stench of alcohol had permeated his uniform and it was so strong that she had to scrunch up her nose.

“Richard. What have you been doing? You smell like a drunkard.” The derision in her voice was very minute but he felt it all the same. Raising her face upwards with his finger he gazed into her eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat.

“That is because I am one.”

“Richard! You are a man of sense, what has driven you to such extremes that you should lose a quality which drew me to you?

“You my darling. What you told me a year and a half ago crucified me and I had no choice but to descend into a fit of melancholy. Darcy nearly went out of his mind trying to figure out what had happened to me that I should be so affected.” Upon Charlotte's questioning look he continued, “I didn't tell him the truth. Fobbed him off with some excuse about some battle I had been in. Flashbacks you know.”

Charlotte buried her head in his jacket once again, ignoring the smell of whiskey and brandy. The tears that she had not shed at that last meeting were shed now. Once Richard realized that she was crying he put an arm around her and pulled her closer to him. The faint whiff of perfume that she had sprayed that morning still lingered on her and he took a deep breath. Taking it all in. He had missed this. Missed her. Missed the way that they had been. He understood that things would never be the same again, the words exchanged at Hunsford would remain unless they were dealt with. Even if they were the pain that he had felt then would still be scored in his memory. He pulled back from her and detached his arms from around her waist. She took a step back as she looked up at him, wondering what was going on. He strode over to the bench again but made no effort to sit down. Charlotte watched him from where she was standing. He took several deep breaths before he spoke.

“Charlotte you must realize that things will always be different now.”

She nodded. Shame made bile rise in her throat. She kept silent.

“At Hunsford,” he stopped, unable to speak for a moment, “what you told me at Hunsford, was it true?”

“Parts,” She whispered.

“Which ones?”

“Richard, please. I can't.” The tears which had dried on her face were replaced by fresh ones. She could not have this discussion with him again. She knew that she had to, that she could not keep him in ignorance for any longer. It would be cruel. Still, it was hard. Charlotte struggled to answer him until she caught sight of his face which was a mixture of despair and hope. A strange combination but one which existed anyway.

“Please,” he rasped.

She raised her head and stood up straight. If she was going to tell this man what could be the most important thing in his life, the most defining, then she would make an effort. After several minutes she opened her mouth to speak.

“The parts that were true? Well Richard-”

She was interrupted by the rustling noise of someone walking close to them. She stopped. He glanced angrily at whoever had made the noise but when he noticed who it was his expression immediately changed.

“Georgiana? What are you doing out here? You'll catch your death.”

Georgiana Darcy had felt the need to take a walk to escape the somber happenings at the funeral and wake. Her brother had agreed with some hesitancy but after assuring him that she would go no further than the gardens around Longbourn he had relented. At nineteen she was more confident than she had been at sixteen when her brother had married. Elizabeth seemed now to be an essential part of the Darcy household and the thought of no Elizabeth at Pemberley had become inconceivable to both Darcy and Georgiana. Elizabeth's teasing of her brother made Georgiana less afraid of other people and their reactions. She had learnt to put things in her past behind her and that included George Wickham. The shame was still there but not the blame. Georgiana had matured and now saw that Wickham was the lowest of men, Edward Foster had shown her that. The memory of her engagement now filled her with happiness. They would be married in two months. The look on her cousin's face interrupted her reflections. He appeared troubled and Mrs Collins seemed on the verge of tears.

“I went for a walk Richard. Mrs Collins are you well?”

Charlotte was unable to reply as tears were choking her again. Richard wanted so desperately to go and comfort her, to wrap his arms around her and never let go. He could not. It was not only Georgiana's presence that rendered him useless but the clarity that it brought. He and Darcy had rescued Georgiana from Wickham's clutches as they were ready to elope, but wasn't what he was doing with Charlotte as bad. Possibly worse. No, it was worse. He now saw that he was even more worthless than that creature. He should have done what was right. Should have left Charlotte alone and let her get on with her life with her husband. Husband. The word clawed at him until he couldn't process anything else. Husband was something that he would never be. At least not to Charlotte. And that was all he wanted, to share his life with her, but it was impossible. He found himself wishing that he had accompanied Darcy and Bingley to Netherfield the first time. Maybe then Charlotte would have been his wife and not have to suffer the advances of Collins. Pulled from his thoughts he noticed that Georgiana was leading Charlotte away into the house.

Another opportunity lost.

But what had she been trying to tell him?

Present time

Charlotte reflected on that day and realized that perhaps what she had been going to tell Richard should never be told. He had not found out anything since and she had avoided meeting him at any functions or social gatherings. That had been hard at the christening of the Darcys' second child. There she had kept an eye out for him and if he came near she would take a couple of steps away from him and immediately get into a very long conversation with her neighbour.

Suddenly Emmeline and Annabeth came running in. Emmeline's dress was filthy and her hair was escaping from the clasp it was held in. Annabeth was similarly attired but she was not as muddy as her elder sister.

“Emmeline, Annabeth, what is the matter?”

“Mama, Mama,” Emmeline panted, her breath having been used up in the journey to her mother. “Mama, I have seen Aunt Margaret and she told me something very exciting.”

Aunt Margaret was Charlotte's younger brother Philip's wife. She was silly and loved to gossip but she did not intentionally cause harm. In contrast Philip was a serious man who cleaved to anything literary orientated. She could not understand the attraction. “What did she tell you?”

“She told me that Netherfield is let! She said that it was a widowed man who,” she tried to remember what her Aunt had made her promise to tell her mother, “who is very wealthy and apparently very handsome.” Charlotte was dismayed to hear these words from her daughter and decided that they must spend less time with Margaret. Charlotte decided to play along.

“Who is this man then? Is he very old?” She sounded serious but was quite the opposite.

“Aunt told me that he is not very old but would not do for any of her friends. She said that he was about your age.” Struck again with a sense of sadness (she was not old! Surely not!) she continued probing Emmeline for information.

“And does he have any children?”

Emmeline scrunched up her face and thought about it. After a while she responded, “Aunt Margaret said that he had three young children. Younger than Annabeth mama.”

Charlotte smiled. Emmeline constantly thought that Annabeth was very young and that she was so much older than her sister. Realizing that this man's wife probably died in childbirth sobered her up a bit. “Did she tell you his name?”

“She did. It's just that I can't remember it.” Trust Emmeline to remember the trivial details about children and forget the man's name. However just as Charlotte was about to change the subject to the state of her daughters' clothes, and pretend to be extremely angry at the mess, Annabeth chimed in.

“I remember Mama. I'm smart.”

“I know you are darling. You both are.”

Annabeth was not to be deterred, not even by the glare that Emmeline was giving her. “She said that it was an army person.”

“Really?”

“Yes. With a funny name. Like Aunt Lizzy's husband. It was something like Fitzgerald, Fitzsimmon-”

“Aunt Lizzy's husband is called Fitzwilliam, stupid.”

Annabeth started to cry. Instead of going to comfort her daughter like she knew she should have, she was frozen to her chair. Emmeline filled in the blanks.

“I know mama. He's Colonel Fitzwilliam.” She stuck her tongue out at her weeping sister.

Charlotte struggled to breathe. It couldn't be. Fate could not be so cruel.

It seemed that it was though because after all these years she would see him again.

Chapter Three

Posted on Wednesday, 7 September 2005

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam asked himself what on earth had possessed him to take a house in her neighbourhood. He knew the answer of course and he still found it hard to admit to himself. By all rights he should be mourning the death of his wife. Hester Fitzwilliam had died in childbirth. The child, a boy, had died as well. Neither had lasted longer than a few hours after the birth. Hester had told him the name that she wanted to use for her son just before she had died. So Hester Fitzwilliam nee Partridge and her son Henry were laid to rest in the Fitzwilliam section of the graveyard. His two eldest children Richard and Stella had been distraught at the news of their mother's death. The two year old Delores, or Lola to everyone, was far too young to understand. With a pang of sadness he realized that she would probably never remember her mother.

Hester had been a socialite. When Richard had first met her he had been in deep sorrow over Charlotte Collins and she had offered him sympathy. She wasn't as vicious as Caroline Bingley or as warm as Charlotte but she had seen something in him and their marriage had been, for the most part, a happy one. He suspected that Hester had been in love with him during their marriage if not before.

Richard had never loved her.

His heart belonged to one person. And until he could take it back from her then he could never love another woman. That was his curse and his blessing. If he had never known Charlotte then perhaps he would have been able to find some semblance of happiness. But if he had never met her he wouldn't have felt the tumultuous love that he felt with her with anyone else. Perhaps it was better to...what was the saying? It is better to loved and lost than never to love at all. Maybe.

He had though that he had conquered this love he felt for Charlotte but he saw now that he had not and never had. He had loved his wife as the mother of his children and his children because they were his flesh but Richard could never stop wondering what their children would have been like. He had once thought that he had an idea about them but a long time ago that notion had been declared wrong.

“Papa! Papa!” His son and heir Richard Arthur Fitzwilliam, a boy of just five years who was already showing so much potential in his studies, came running into the library where his father was sitting. The melancholic tone which had been in his voice since his mother's death had been replaced by one of panic. He set down the glass of port that he had been sipping at before his son had barged into the room.

“Richard what is the matter?”

“Papa, Stella has gone somewhere and no-one knows where she is!”

The Colonel's mind was filled with a stampede of thoughts the foremost of which was absolute despair and panic. Stella had been his little girl, no matter what had happened when Lola had arrived. She was the playful one who always obeyed him and rarely quarreled with anyone.

“Where are the servants?” Richard was angry. It should have been their nurse or one of the other servants that told him the news of his daughter's disappearance and not her five year old brother who was still grieving for his mother.

“Mrs Grant told us not to tell anyone just yet. She said that Bertie would find Stella. But I had to papa. I was-” The boy stopped and looked down at his feet, “I was scared papa. What if something happened to her? What if-”

“Richard nothing has happened to Stella. We'll find her, she probably just strayed from where everyone else was.” The father was speaking to his son more calmly than he felt. “Go upstairs and stay in your room. You can go and visit Lola if you want.”

The son looked as though he would disagree with his father but then followed the well-worn path up the stairs. Richard grabbed his coat and ran out the door. Hearing a commotion in the gardens he hurried there. Upon reaching his destination he saw several servants searching the bushes and trees for Stella. That is of no use! My daughter will not have stayed in the gardens! It was true. Stella liked to run free and pretend that there was nothing in the world that could hurt her. This had happened more frequently since Hester's death.

One of the servants looked up from the search and found his master watching them. “Sir, we're-”

“I know what you're doing. I've come to help.”

That was what he did. They searched the area for a long time without any sign of Stella. Just as the sun was beginning to set they all began to give up hope. Soon it would be night and dark and any chance of finding Stella would be greatly reduced. Slowly the servants drifted off to their various jobs and Richard was the only one left in the gardens. He began to despair. They had searched all of Netherfield and its environs, he had sent people to look round the pathways but still nothing. The emotion that over-took him at that point was as powerful as the sadness that had been present at the last meeting with her.

Just then he heard squeals and giggles from the bottom of the garden. In the dimness of the sunset he could make out three figures. They were all very small and two of them seemed to be helping the other along. As they came closer a flicker of joy leapt in his heart. They were wearing ribbons. Could it be? Was it possible?

He ran towards them and saw that one of the girls was Stella. At that point he nearly collapsed with sheer relief but managed to hold himself up. When the girls were closer to him he embraced his daughter with all the love that a father can have for his children. Her clothes were filthy and her hair messed up but Richard didn't care. All he knew was that his precious baby girl was safe. He looked up and saw that the other two were standing slightly apart from the father and daughter. The eldest was fair-haired and slender while the other was dark and small. They looked older than his children.

“Papa, Emmy and Beth helped me. I fell over and hurt my foot. It's really sore papa.”

“It's okay Stella. We'll get the physician to look over it. It'll be fine.” He faced the other girls again. He wanted to do something for them, or for their family. He was sure that their parents must be poor. After all which rich families resided here and anyway who would let their daughters gallivant about the country in such a way? However Richard was no Caroline Bingley, or Lady Catherine Fitzwilliam as she was now (how he rued the day his brother had married her!), and therefore did not judge them on their connections.

“What are your names?”

The eldest replied. She seemed confident and happy. “I am Emmeline and this is my sister Annabeth.”

“It is very nice to meet you Emmeline and Annabeth. I must thank you so much for helping my daughter.”

“It's alright mister. She seems nice.”

“Annabeth!” Emmeline seemed scandalized by her sister's behaviour. Richard smiled. His children were just about too young for proper manners to set in yet and as far as he was concerned that was a good thing. 'Good' manners generally made people all the more reserved and stuck-up. A genuine person would not take 'good' manners into account but would judge a situation and what it required by their own common sense and morality.

“Well you two seem very grown up and sensible to rescue my daughter.”

“I am. Annabeth is nothing but a bothersome little sister. She is only eight. I am ten.”

“And very old and serious already, eh?”

“Yes sir. Mama says that being serious and rational is very important.”

“Well as a reward for finding my daughter why don't you two and your parents – and any other siblings that you may have – join myself and my children for dinner this Saturday? You two can play with my children in their playroom and your parents and I can praise you for your serious and rational behaviour?”

“Oh yes! Stella says that she has lots of toys.” Annabeth chimed in and even the eldest seemed happy with the suggestion.

“Mama will be very happy too for she never gets to go anywhere.”

“What about your papa? Does he not take your mother to balls or dinners or concerts?”

“No sir. Our father died four years ago. Mama raised us on her own.” The children did not seem to be somber about their father's death. The Richard reminded himself that they, like his children, would have been very young when their parent died. It struck him again that Hester would one day only be a name to her children. She had loved them all unconditionally. Perhaps she was making up for the love that she could not get from him.

“Well then,” Richard was considering the proprieties of the situation. A widow could not come alone to a stranger's house. Perhaps he should give up on the idea. “Does your mother have any brothers living nearby?”

“Oh yes. Uncle Philip. He's married and I'm sure Aunt Margaret would love to come along.”

“Well then what is your name? Your family name.”

“Collins.”

Richard's heart stopped.

“Collins?” His mouth was dry and his heart thumped in his chest like a stampede of wild animals.

“Yes sir. I am Emmeline Collins, this is my sister Annabeth Collins. My mother is Charlotte Collins.”

He did not know how he managed it but he was able to bid the girls good-bye in a remarkably calm way. After they were gone he carried Stella towards the house and such was the commotion when she returned that she soon forgot her sore foot and lapped up the attention like his sister-in-law's fat cat lapped up the cream that it was served. Richard Arthur, upon hearing that his sister was home and safe, had come bounding down the stairs and now both were sitting in the kitchen eating as much as Mrs O'Donnell could make for them.

Richard did the cowardly thing and made excuses to flee to his rooms. He was tired. It had been a long day. The search was over. He had business to do. All these were as false as each other. The real reason why he had fled was because he had managed to commit the most foolish mistake possible. He had managed to get Charlotte Collins, the one woman he had ever loved, and Mr Collins' two daughters to Netherfield for dinner.

I am the most stupid man in the world. Suddenly a Shakespeare quote came into his head. Who knew that Mr Evans' teaching would actually be applied in the normal world?

I am fortune's fool.

Chapter Four

Posted on Tuesday, 20 September 2005

Both Charlotte and Richard were in equal states of confusion and anxiety. Charlotte was convinced that more evil would come in refusing the invitation than accepting it as the girls had already told their aunt about the dinner and she was most willing to be there. If Charlotte declined then Margaret would not only be put out but she would get into a childish huff and demand to know the reason behind the decision. She wondered to herself if she really wanted to see Richard before realizing that that was a stupid question. Of course she wanted to see Richard – hadn't she longed for him for over ten years? Hadn't she loved him for ten years? But there was one notion that kept flitting about in her mind which she could not out to rest and disturbed her greatly: did Richard know that the girls who had saved his children were her daughters?

Meanwhile Richard was stuck between utter joy, that he would see Charlotte again and that Collins was dead (Heaven forbid, he should not be merciful for someone's death but he was), and bitter pain at the thought of seeing her again after all these years. Things had been left unsettled between them – she had never revealed what she had been about to reveal at Mr Bennet's funeral and had evaded him at subsequent gatherings. There was only one conclusion that Richard could form that was truthful to her behaviour. She did not love him.

That thought still cut him deeply and after that realization he had stopped trying to meet her anywhere and had fled to London. There he had begun to get his life back in order again and his first choice was to find a wealthy wife who he would not love. Having stopped drinking since Charlotte's rebuttal at Longbourn he was presented to the ton as a relatively eligible bachelor (he was not the oldest son which dented his marriageability slightly) who had the added bonus of being handsome and charming. That was not a comment that pleased him greatly as it reminded him of Wickham – handsome and charming, that's what Wickham always was and had exploited it. Perhaps he had too. One night, after visiting his cousin Darcy and Elizabeth and playing with their two children, the eldest a boy and the newborn a girl, he decided that more drastic action was needed and set off to the ball at Lord and Lady Feston's with a more serious desire to engage in matrimony.

Six years ago

Richard entered the dazzling ball room with military precision. He knew when to make his entrance so that everyone would notice him. And they did. Lady Feston, a middle-aged woman whose favourite colours tended to veer towards the gaudy and who was, in Richard's humble opinion, his sister-in-law's idol, sauntered over to him with a fake smile on her face and money in her eyes.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam! How good to see you! Of course I am sure that you have come here eager to dance and to meet many interesting people. Why don't I introduce you to my niece? She is from a little village in Cornwall but has quite the fortune.” If Richard had been thinking clearly he would have noticed the impropriety of what the Lady was saying. However all sense had quickly evaporated and his brain fled to a different part of his anatomy when he saw Lady Feston's niece.

She was tall and slender with almost an ethereal beauty. She seemed nervous in this company and for the first time Richard thought that this might be the wife for him.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam, this is my niece Miss Hester Partridge, Hester this is Colonel Fitzwilliam – a very important man in the army, or so I'm told.”

“You do me too much justice Lady Feston. All that I have the pleasure of doing is handing out orders. Not very brave.”

Hester spoke for the first time. Her voice was soft and quiet so Richard had to strain to hear her. “I believe sir that although those higher ranking in the army do not do as much fighting as the ordinary soldiers they are equally, or even more, important. For how would the men win if they did not have good orders?” She stopped and quickly blushed at having spoken to him. He enjoyed her innocence and shyness: it was so unlike what he was used to with -

No. He would not think of her. Not tonight when so much beauty was before him.

“Miss Partridge, would you care to dance?”

Six years later, present time

That was the start of their relationship that night. After they had danced the first two dances they had broken for refreshment and then he had asked her to join him again. He could admit now that he was attracted to her beauty and youth and that he had not felt the first stirrings of love. A few weeks after their marriage Hester had found him in a particularly melancholy moment and had inquired as to what was troubling him. He had said that it was nothing but with the eagerness of a young bride who had the utmost belief in her husband's love for her she had persisted. Then he had gotten angry at her and in his rage had blurted out the truth – that he loved another woman and that although he might, at this point in time, be in love with Hester she could never compare to the woman he had loved and lost*.

So stark was the revelation that Richard did not see his wife for weeks on end and began to get worried. Then one day while he was breakfasting she had descended from her apartment and with calm detachment had informed him that he was to be a father. Richard the son had arrived eight months later and the Colonel saw that Hester had found in the child what she had not found in the man. Love. They still had marital relations though, he did not find her repulsive and she did love him and as a result Stella and Lola came into the world. Perhaps he should have felt more guilt than he already did at the notion that he was a contributing factor in her death, but he could not.

Still, as Richard looked into his mirror while preparing for his dinner guests to arrive he could not help but hope that Hester was still living if only because she was a good hostess. However he knew the reason went deeper than that. If he was completely truthful to himself, the only reason he wanted Hester's presence was to remind him of what he would lose would he be tempted into a relationship with Charlotte again, his life, his wife and his children.

But most of all his heart.

Charlotte Collins was ready to face all the demons in hell, with the possible exception of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but not to face her ex-lover. Collins had never found out about him, perhaps things would have been better if he had. But that was then and the present, no matter how much one hopes, can not be changed. Susannah the maid came into the room and asked if she was ready as the children were keen to be going.

“Tell them that I shall be down presently. Please Susannah, are my brother and his wife here yet?”

“Yes ma'am. Arrived not ten minutes ago.” She curtsied and left the room.

Charlotte gazed at herself in the mirror. The lines on her forehead and wrinkled skin showed her age and she was sure that Richard would pick up on it immediately. He had known the features of her body better than herself at times. He will probably congratulate himself on a lucky escape from an old hag, thought Charlotte bitterly. She wondered if his wife had been pretty.

Upon hearing her children calling her down she composed herself and took one last look in the glass. It was time to go and face her past. Probably she would never be the same again.

At Netherfield everyone was ready and, with a Colonel as their father or master, were following Richard's orders to appear calm and friendly. However the man himself was rather agitated and took no care to hide it. The servants would gossip later, he could already see their eyes and lips twitching. He didn't mind, for some reckless reason he was taking a 'whatever will be will be' attitude into tonight's dinner.

“Papa, why are you fidgeting? You told me not to fidget.”

“Yes well Stella, sometimes things are different with adults. Different rules.”

“So when I grow up I can fidget?” She questioned with childhood hope.

“If your husband allows it.”

“Papa I shall never get married. Not if all boys are like Richard.” At this she glared at her older brother. Apparently the two had had a falling out recently over Stella's going off on her own without Richard. The resentment would never last of course but it proved an amusing diversion from the more serious problems in their father's life.

“Sir, the Lucas carriage has just arrived.” The manservant told him.

“Lucas? I thought the lady's name was Collins.”

The servant looked startled at his master's probing, but forced himself to respond without any sign of the shock in his voice, “I believe that the lady's brother is coming tonight. He is Lucas, sir.”

Richard was embarrassed. He had been focusing so much on Charlotte that he had forgotten that her brother, his wife and the Collins children would be attending tonight as well. “Right. Thank you Jones.”

“Sir.”

The guests' footsteps could be heard climbing up the steps, two sounded eager to get inside, one was equally eager but more serious, one was a man's heavy footfalls and the last was slow and hesitant. He fought back the notion to think of her.

They entered. He saw a man and a woman come in the door before realizing that the children had ran over to his children and were talking excitedly. “Papa. Can Richard and I show Emmeline and Annabeth the playroom?”

“Of course Stella. Mrs Harkins?”

She responded that she would take them but Richard was so intent on not noticing the last person that entered the hall and focusing on her brother and his wife instead that he did not hear what Mrs Harkins said.

“Mr Lucas, I am very pleased to meet you.” Charlotte's brother was in his thirties and appeared to be a very serious, studious man. His wife on the other had was almost as beautiful as Hester had been, only dark where his wife had been fair. She seemed young and impulsive.

“And I too Colonel.”

“Oh Philip let's get away from all these dreadful formalities. I am Margaret Lucas, Colonel, Philip's wife and I must say that since I have heard of your arrival at Netherfield I have been most anxious to meet you. You sound like you have such an interesting character.” All this was spoken so fast that the Colonel barely had time to register what she had said at the start that she was already finished her speech.

Then he could no longer ignore her. He turned his gaze towards the woman who had captured, owned and broken his heart. He could not stop looking at her. She was certainly not beautiful and the lines of age were showing on her face but there was still that special something that drew him into her. It wasn't a physical feature, not her eyes or lips or figure, but rather some element that only Charlotte seemed to possess. The thing that made his heart pound and his breath catch and make it seem like there was only her in the world.

“This is my sister Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mrs Charlotte Collins.”

She started. Curtsied. Blushed. “I am..I am pleased to see you again R- Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

He started. Bowed. Flushed. “And I too Charlotte.”

Author's note 2(DNA): Explanation of *: In Louis de Bernières “Captain Corelli's Mandolin” (fantastic book, read it if you haven't already), Pelagia's father (Pelagia is the main character who has fallen in love with Captain Antonio Corelli) asks her whether she truly loves him. It goes something like this – Love is not wishing to mate every second of every day, that is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love is when your lives have become so inextricably linked together that you can not even think of parting without great pain. That is what love is.
Wise words and I think you can guess which scenario applies to whom in my story. Note: I do not own “Captain Corelli's Mandolin” Louis de Bernières wrote it.

Chapter Five

“Charlotte.” Richard breathed her name as if it was his hope of salvation. He could do naught but stare at her and she found herself gazing into his eyes as well. Although both of them knew that this was coming they were equally unprepared, words and thoughts and reason had all fled upon seeing the other for the first time in seven years. Seven long, hard and in some places tortuous years. Richard did not know how but he managed to break their connection and when he glanced around he saw that the other two guests were looking at them with interest on the woman's part and concern on the brother's.

“Do you know my sister Colonel?”

“Your sister?”

The younger man pursed his lips slightly. “Mrs Collins, sir.”

“Oh yes I do Mr Lucas. We had the pleasure of forming an acquaintance when I visited my Aunt Catherine at Rosings Park. Your sister was residing in the parsonage. I called on occasion.” Richard would not address Charlotte as the property of that odious creature Collins, and was able to discern a faint smile on her face at the 'called on occasion' remark. Well he was being truthful, he had called whenever Collins was out and their encounters had been occasions to remember.

“Oh Lottie I never knew you had met our dashing neighbour before.” Mrs Lucas was in full flow tonight and even the weak-minded could not mistakes for anything else than they were. However he had never heard Charlotte addressed as Lottie before, a thought flitted through his mind that perhaps he would call her that in the future but it quickly disappeared when he saw her frown at her sister-in-law's impropriety. “And to call you Charlotte! What fun! You must have been close friends then. I wonder dear sister why it never crossed your mind to leave that dreadful husband for the Colonel.”

“Margaret that is quite enough!” Her husband's voice disturbed the eerie silence in the room. Charlotte looked as though she had put entirely too much rouge on and Richard suspected that he too would be looking like one of the harlots one finds in the lesser parts of London.

“Well shall we go on in then? I believe my cook has been exceptionally hard-working tonight. I must confess that I do have a certain weakness for her culinary delights. Makes the most wonderful apple crumble.” Expecting to take Charlotte into the dining room, he was shocked and slightly affronted when her brother left his wife and attended upon his sister. Mrs Lucas looked annoyed as well.

After several courses of delicious food accompanied by tension fraught conversation it was time for the gentlemen to retire and leave the women to their own devices. However Richard did not want to leave Charlotte in fear of her fleeing from Netherfield and never seeing her again. He could not stand that. Not when she was single and within his grasp so he suggested going to see the children who had been given their dinner in the nursery. Mrs Lucas reneged on the offer of seeing the Fitzwilliam children and her nieces and despite furious glances from her husband, declared that she would read a book. Mr Lucas was about to follow the other two but a detaining arm from his wife stopped him.

“Philip. Leave them.” She whispered in his ear. Charlotte and Richard did not hear them as they were already climbing up the stairs. To their children.

“Charlotte I feel that I must...I must apologize for my behaviour.”

“Nonsense. Your behaviour tonight has been impeccable. Truly gentlemanly.” She would not look at him and he realized why.

“Not for tonight. For my marriage, my actions towards you, even for fathering children that are not yours.”

“Do not be so foolish Richard! How can you feel sorry for their existence? How? And to be sorry for your marriage! Your poor wife died in childbirth, and you dare to apologize for your relationship with her? Richard Fitzwilliam you are unbelievable!” Obviously he had touched a raw nerve. She had quickened her pace up the stairs and was nearly at the top before he caught up with her.

“Charlotte, you are twisting my words. I am not sorry for my children's existence. I just regret that they are not ours.”

“Stop it Richard you do not know of what you speak!”

He could see that she was in tears, or at least on the brink of them. She would not let herself be comforted though. That was what he always admired about her, her strength – sometimes it manifested itself in infuriation at her stubbornness but he knew that she had the will to do what she believed was right and therefore his anger never lasted long. Well, too long anyway.

“I do darling.”

“Stop it! Stop it now!”

“Charlotte! Please, just listen to me!”

“Why Richard? Why after all these years do you need to drag up memories of the past?” He noted the despair in her voice but his curiosity overcame it.

“Charlotte, you never did tell me what the truth was.” He did not mention specifics but she knew what he was talking about. Slowly she lifted up her eyes and looked up at him unblinkingly.

“Do you really want to know?”

“I think that I deserve to.”

“Fine. But not here. Somewhere private.”

“How about my study?”

“Fine. Fine.” She sounded like one who has been condemned to death, received a pardon but on the day of her release was told that she had been misinformed. Looked like one too.

Over eight years ago

Charlotte was sitting in her parlour which, fortunately for her, her husband never seemed to be particularly concerned with. Perhaps the witch has said something about it. Yes, that could be why he will not come in here, thought Charlotte rather uncharitably. Then she remembered that the chimney piece in Rosings cost eight hundred pounds alone! Evidently Lady Catherine did not need charity.

She was idly doing some sewing which attempted to be flowers but in Charlotte's opinion looked rather more like Ralphie the dog after had been scratching himself. Thinking about her husband afforded her some kind of a sense of reality, the baby upstairs did as well. So did the child growing in her womb. Collins was away at some parish meeting, or conference or something (Charlotte could not quite remember as the moment she had heard that he was not too be present for nearly a month she had tuned everything else out) and she was left to sit alone.

Suddenly she heard the clatter of horse hooves on the stones outside the house and instantly she knew who it was. Her heart erupted in her chest and she ran out to meet him. She had given the servants a day off.

“Richard!”

He descended from his horse and embraced her tightly in his arms. “Oh Charlotte how I have missed you. My dear, darling Charlotte!” His voice was muffled as he kissed the top of her head.

“Come inside.”

“Is that a proposition my love?”

“No Richard. I am cold. It is practicality.” He laughed as she led him indoors.

“Have you seen your Aunt?”

“My aunt? Whatever do you want to talk about my aunt for? Especially when we have not seen each other in months.”

“Months, Richard? My you're getting very lax in your old age.” She walked away from him while he attempted to catch her. It was of no avail though as after an eight hour, relatively non-stop journey, he was too tired to run after a woman who was nearly seven months pregnant. G** help His Majesty's Army.

“Fine then. Three months, 12 days and possibly seven hours.”

“Possibly?”

“Charlotte don't try me.”

“Are you weary?” She asked him as she sat down beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. He gathered her into his arms and she relaxed into him. “I have missed you so much Richard. So very, very much.”

“Me too. All that has kept me going during everything is the thought of you waiting for me. And of our children.”

She froze. She knew that she would have to tell told him sooner or later but she had hoped that it would be later. Much, much later. “Richard there's something that I have to tell you. Please listen to me. No matter what.”

“Of course I will, but what is the matter? Nothing's wrong with you or Emmeline is it? Or the baby?” He laid a protective hand over her expanding belly. She pushed it away as she got up.

“Of course not Colonel do not be so foolish,” she was icy cold and as she steeled her gaze at Richard he felt a shiver run down his spine, whatever she was going to say it was not going to be good.

“Why do you call me Colonel, Charlotte?”

“I call you it because that is what you are. In future Colonel I would prefer if you would address me as Mrs Collins. Anything else is deception.”

He was confused and told her so. She laughed as he made that remark. Then came the words which would cause reverberations in many lives for years to come.

“I knew you were a fool Colonel Fitzwilliam, but I did not expect you to be so dense. My meaning is clear. I no longer want you in my life or in my children's lives. Look at what you were, just a diversion from my husband. A play thing if you will.”

He got up and paced over to her, grasped her arms and pulled her close, “Are you out of your mind Charlotte? No, no perhaps you are not. It is just the pregnancy that is weighing you down. Just think, another child for us.”

She pulled herself out of his arms and stood her ground firmly, looked him directly in the eye. “You really are clueless. This is not your child,” she said putting her hand on her abdomen. “And neither is Catherine Emmeline. You have been made fun of for over two years! Imagine that. William and I have been wondering how you could be so ignorant.” It struck her as strange that she had said William and not 'my husband'. Then she realized that she would have to make this even more painful for him to get him to leave them all alone.

“You are not serious Charlotte. You can not be.” He paused, “yet I see that you are in earnest and now I have to wonder why you would cause me so much pain!” His voice was raised to a shout and for the first time in their acquaintance Charlotte was scared of him. “Was it for my money?”

“It was. We thought it would be a delightful joke. Plus you have been so unwise as to give me anything I asked for. Did you never wonder why my husband did not make mention of your numerous gifts?” She had him there. “Go away and never come back. You were merely an admirer, a companion in bed, a patron if you will. Just make sure that you never appear within miles of my family ever again. Go Colonel.”

Present time

They were both in Richard's study recalling what had been said that day. It had been the last time either had seen each other until Mr Bennet's funeral and Richard had been drunk. Charlotte wondered now if her cruelty had driven him to act so barbarously. Maybe she could have been kinder in her let-down.

“Was it true then, what you said?”

“Parts.”

He dropped the glass that he was holding and it landed with a clank on the table. He was frustrated. The last time they had attempted to have this conversation Georgiana had interrupted them. He was not going to let anything disrupt this moment let alone a spilled glass of whiskey. “Which parts Charlotte? Tell me.”

She hesitated for a while before finally speaking although looking down at her lap. “Richard, I was not so base as to use you for your money. I believe that you know that, at least I would hope that you do.” Richard sighed in relief. He had been certain in the first years of their separation that she had been a gold-digger who could not marry him and therefore would do the next best thing and become his mistress. The thought had been slowly pushed from his mind through the years but it was a great burden to unload.

“What else? The children?”

The edge of hope in his voice pierced through her. How could she face him now? “The children...The children... Annabeth is not your child Richard. She is my late husband's.” He nodded but soon he could not control his emotions any more and sobbed into his hands. He felt a delicate hand on his shoulder but although he desired to look up at her, he found that it was impossible. “Richard, Richard please listen to me.” He looked up.

“You have my full attention Mrs Collins.”

“Charlotte, Richard. Please call me Charlotte now. We have been through too much to simply address each other by such formalities.”

“Charlotte.” His voice broke under the strain of held-in emotion which tears had not eased.

“Emmeline is your child Richard.”

That simple statement had the power to turn everything in his world up-side down and back to front and any other direction that it could go. The sheer bliss that overtook him made his cheeks wet yet again only with joy this time. Emmeline was his child. His and Charlotte's. That wonderful little girl who thought herself so grown up and independent and had saved his daughter, her half-sister, was his child. He could still feel all the love that he had lavished upon Emmeline in her infancy. It washed over him like a wave and he felt truly alive for the first time in a long time.

Then he realized something. “Why did you lie to me?”

“That I can not excuse Richard. I must confess that it was because when I found out that I was to have another child, I knew that it had to be Mr Collins'. There was no way that the baby could have been ours. I did not want to see you fooled into thinking that you had another child. And I could not imagine our relationship lasting much longer. Someone would have found out.”

“You could have come with me to some magnificent foreign land. I asked you more than once.”

“And what would have happened Richard? You would have had to have fought with some country or other and what if you died? What would have happened to me and the girls then? No one, not even Elizabeth I believe, would tolerate having me and we would have been cast out into the cold.” She was not angry, just realistic and dismayed at the practicalities of their situation back then.

“Perhaps you are right. But I do not know if I will be able to forgive you Charlotte. I have missed out on over eight years of my daughter's life, no father deserves that.”

“I know that I can never make that time up to you Richard but I will try my very best.”

He reached up for her hand and clasped it in his, “I know you will.” They sat in silence for a while before an idea entered Richard's head.

“Come to the nursery. I would like you to meet my children properly and see Annabeth.” As he rose he remarked with a smile, “And I would also wish to be re-united with our daughter.”

Chapter Six

Posted on Monday, 10 October 2005

The next morning Charlotte woke up with no feeling of guilt. For the first time in seven years she had no regrets about her behaviour, only that she had not told Richard his fatherhood sooner. His face when they entered the nursery was one of boyish excitement and fatherly adoration when he saw Emmeline again when he knew that she was his child. When she had been a baby Richard had doted over her so much that when he left Emmeline would cry and scream for him to come back. After his final departure Emmeline had been inconsolable at the loss of “Witchar” that when Mr Collins had taken a benevolent turn and decided to bestow his attention on the infant (who was never welcome at Rosings as Lady Catherine feared for her daughter's health and proclaimed that children were such a nuisance), Emmeline had promptly burst into tears and Collins had almost dropped her, much to Charlotte's dismay. She had hoped that after Richard's exit from her life, she could learn to appreciate, of not love, her husband. She had never had time for that before as almost as soon as she had been married she was thrown into Richard's company. And amazed at this wonderful man. She remembered their first meeting alone well.

Over Ten Years Ago

Charlotte was following her best friend Elizabeth's advice and taking a walk around the grounds at Rosings. At first she had been afraid that she would run into Collins or Lady Catherine, but after finding that neither would degrade themselves to meander through the lesser paths of Rosings she had taken up the exercise with gusto. Charlotte, not being like Elizabeth, did not take this opportunity to admire the nature or get sucked into a dream world, instead she pondered the practicalities of running Hunsford – how much they would need for the kitchen etc. So absorbed was she in this that she did not realize that Colonel Fitzwilliam was standing in front of her. She looked up and him, registered the slight frown of disappointment, and curtsied.

“Good morning Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“Good morning Mrs Collins.” They stood there in silence for a few minutes, neither knowing quite what to say to the other which would give the least offence. “I am surprised to find you here Mrs Collins, for I have not seen you walking here before. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is often my companion for these things.”

Charlotte smiled and did not take his statement to heart. After all it was only natural that he should want to meet with her friend instead of she herself. “Please Colonel, there is no need to apologize. I understand what you mean. You wish to converse with Elizabeth, but I am afraid that she has already been and gone. I believe that she met Mr Darcy this morning, for he escorted her home.”

“Darcy escorted Miss Bennet home! I would have paid to see that. I can just imagine the expressions on their faces. Darcy with a frown and the young lady equally put out, I daresay.” He laughed and it resonated somewhere in her heart which had never been reached before. She smiled back at him and he now seemed in a more jovial mood and offered her his arm to walk her round the rest of the park.

“Do you visit your Aunt often?”

“Not as often as she would like, but far too often in my own opinion.”

“Well she is very-” Charlotte broke off, uncertain whether she should criticize this man's relative to his face, however he stopped her questioning with his next word.

“Troublesome? Tiresome? A right old matriarch who should realize that not everything will bend to her will? Mrs Collins I am well aware of my aunt's faults. In fact sometimes, when I am very bored, I think up new ones. It amuses Darcy to no end.”

“Well I was going to go with persistent, but what you say has weight too.”

He chuckled. “That is your way of saying, I suppose, that I should respect my elders?”

“Not in the slightest Colonel. Merely seeing both sides of the discussion.”

“Oh I see that we have reached the parsonage. I will leave you now.”

“Thank you Colonel,” as he turned to go she called out his name and he stopped. “I am sure that Elizabeth will be inside. You are welcome to come in.”

“Perhaps I will call tomorrow Mrs Collins. I have a desire to know more of you. Good day.” With that he bowed, gave her a grin and ran back towards Rosings.

Charlotte wondered why her heart was pounding.

The next day presented strange circumstances. Elizabeth had fled somewhere that morning, having not been in the best mood the previous night, and when Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had come to visit them the former had been even more taciturn than usual, he seemed withdrawn and anxious about something although Charlotte could not figure out what was the cause of his turmoil. Perhaps it was something to do with his sister, she did not know. Mr Darcy, upon finding that Elizabeth was not in the house, promptly left again and as Maria had pleaded illness today (Charlotte suspected that even she had grown weary of Collins' prattling) she and the Colonel were the only ones left in the room.

“Mrs Collins, you do not take your walk today?”

“No Colonel, but then it appears that you have not as well.”

“Very clever Mrs Collins. Shrewd.”

“I do not know whether to be offended or pleased Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“And why is that?” He asked with a frown of confusion on his face.

“Because I can take your words one of two ways. Either you mean to compliment me by praising my intellect, or you call me a shrew.”

He burst out laughing. “I did not mean to intimate that. However I do see the resemblance now. Yes, it all becomes very clear.”

“Be careful Colonel or the next time I see you I shall have arsenic in the tea.”

“That would be my lot, I'm afraid. Survive Bonaparte's army then fall foul of a woman. Fitting end, some might say.” He took a sip of his own tea as if to goad her into making some other remark, when she did not rise to the challenge he was greatly miffed. “But then Mrs Collins, if you are a shrew who will tame you? Your husband? I do not think he could if he tried.” He knew that those words were wrong the moment he thought of them but it didn't stop his damned mouth from saying them anyway. He heard her sharp intake of breath and mentally kicked himself for being so foolish as to let his feelings show.

“I do not think that that was the proper thing to say Colonel.” Her voice was emotionless and cold. She set her cup back on the saucer.

“I know Mrs Collins. Please accept my apologies. I will leave now. Excuse me.”

“Good day Colonel. Shall we see you tomorrow?”

“Why? Preparing the arsenic? No, I am going back to London. Darcy and I travel in a short while.”

“Then it is good-bye?”

“For the moment. Although I am confident that we shall meet again. Farewell.” He grabbed his coat and walked out of the room, towards his horse. Charlotte felt relief upon hearing that he was leaving. Then she might not be tempted to do things which her heart desired but her head forbade.

Present time

Charlotte gazed out of the window in her parlour and saw Margaret running up the gravel with her spectacular violet dress which she had insisted on Philip buying her. Charlotte found herself warming more and more to this young woman who had stolen her younger brother's heart.

“Oh Charlotte! You must tell me everything! How do you know the Colonel?” All this came out without a pause and Charlotte half suspected that her face would be red by now but amazingly it wasn't. She greeted her sister-in-law and led her into the parlour where the children were playing.

“I told you last night Margaret. I met the Colonel while he visited his aunt at Rosings Park.”

“Charlotte do not attempt to put the wool over my eyes, I know that there is something going on between the two of you. Or at least there was.” Margaret sat down on the edge of a seat, her eyes glowing with curiosity. However Charlotte was determined that she should not fulfil that curiosity or else the whole of Meryton would know by the end of the morning.

“I do not know if what you speak Margaret. Now I feel like going for a walk. Would you mind the girls for me?” The younger woman appeared to be a little disappointed but she loved her nieces more than she loved gossip and therefore it was not hard for her to resign herself to a morning with them.

“Of course Charlotte.”

Charlotte took her shawl and began to head in the direction of a pretty little glade which she had discovered with Elizabeth when they were younger, and which her children had now adopted as their favourite place. It was serene and the small river provided adequate distraction from the more heart-wrenching thoughts of Richard. Then she heard a crack. She abruptly whirled around and saw that he was standing behind her.

“Richard. I did not expect to see you here,” she chided herself for her juvenile breathlessness.

“Charlotte. I..I came down to see if the place was safe. My daughter,” then realizing with a smile that he had to verify which one, continued, “Stella, she informed me that this was where she fell and where Emmeline and Annabeth found her.”

“Is she all right now?”

“Yes. Just a bad fall that's all. Nothing to worry too much about.”

“Although we both know that when you are a parent you worry about every minute scratch that your children receive.” She stood up, believing that she would have more control that way. Unfortunately it only meant that she would have to look up at him rather than glance in his direction.

“It is a parent's prerogative I suppose.”

“Richard I am sorry to hear about...Mrs Fitzwilliam's death. It must have hurt you.”

“You do not need to offer your condolences to me, but to her. I confess that I wasn't as good a husband as I should have been. Lord, what must you have thought of me when you read about my marriage to Hester?”

The pain which had filled her soul that day came back full force. She remembered Collins reading the announcement in the papers, they had not heard from Lady Catherine as she was displeased with both her nephews for not marrying Anne. “I felt relieved that you were moving on with your life. My mistake then, not telling you about Emmeline, did not seem so important for I knew that you should soon have children with your wife.” He edged nearer to him and she did not back away.

“Did you feel any pain my dear Charlotte?”

“Of course I did Richard, I am not inhuman!”

He clasped her to him and hugged her close, “Oh my love, I am sorry for what pain I have caused you. I should have waited for you to be free.”

“Richard you did not know that he would die as soon as he did.” She was weeping now.

“No, but if I had have known...”

“I understand.”

He lifted her face up towards his and gently caressed her cheek with his fingers. “Thank you.” Then he did what both of them had been dreaming of for over seven years.

He kissed her.

Chapter Seven

Posted on Sunday, 16 October 2005

It was heaven.

Charlotte felt all the love she had ever felt for the man kissing her return full force and she absolutely reveled in it. Being together felt so natural and in that moment she felt as though nothing would ever hurt her again, not as long as she had Richard's love. She had everything at that point, a man who loved her, a caring family and two precious children. Life could not get any better. However she soon had to end the kiss as she, and Richard she suspected, needed to breathe.

“Charlotte, that was...amazing.” He bent his head and leant on her shoulder, just wishing that this wonderful moment would never end. She put her hands around his head and ran her fingers through his hair as she used to do when they were younger. Richard felt her kiss his hair and just closed his eyes and let bliss reign supreme. They were together and that was all that mattered. The past was forgotten and all he could think about was the present and the future. Their future. That thought alone more than made up for the years of loneliness and bitterness.

“I know Richard. I know my love.” He raised his head and looked into her eyes.

“Charlotte, I love you. So much and I never,” his voice broke with emotion, “I never want to let you go darling.”

“I love you too Richard. I never stopped.”

“Not even when I was a brute and an alcoholic?”

“No.” she shook her head. “Never. When I saw you at Mr Bennet's funeral and the state that you were in, all I felt was shame. Not at you, at myself.”

“Charlotte, don't give yourself any more pain. What is done is done and we can not change it.” Her smile grew and she began to tease him.

“Oh Richard you are getting wise in your old age.” However he would not rise to the challenge. Instead he merely agreed with her and told her that she was getting more beautiful in hers. “Richard, I am not sure whether I should argue or be grateful. You have a bad habit of giving me compliments that can be easily mistaken for criticism. It is not easy for me to judge sometimes.”

“Why thank you Charlotte.”

“You're welcome. Would you like to come to Longbourn for a cup of tea?” She started to walk off and he debated with himself for a while to see if he should follow her or not. In the end the heart conquered the head and he followed her, as madly in love with this magnificent woman as he had been at two and thirty.

“You don't have arsenic in the house, do you Charlotte?”

“Of course not. Why do you ask?”

“Because you once threatened me with it. I would like to make sure that I am safe in your home.” She turned around and raised her eyebrows in mockery.

“Richard, you are definitely safe at Longbourn. Now are you coming or not?”

“Right behind you my dear.”

They reached Longbourn in the slowest time imaginable. Both had been so caught up in the other that they had managed to get lost several times, or as Richard called it they 'investigated new places'. At one point they had managed to actually get closer to Netherfield than Longbourn and only for Charlotte remembering her children they would have been there instead. The sight of Longbourn, when they did eventually reach it, was welcome and Charlotte heartily looked forward to a cup of tea. There was only one problem.

“Richard do you remember my brother's wife Mrs Lucas?”

“Of course.”

“Well she's looking after the children. She might...gossip.”

“Then let her. That way news of our relationship will be round Meryton before dinner time.” Charlotte just looked at him in disbelief and her opinion that men were extremely dense and unfeeling at times seemed to be justified. Richard did get carried away often but she had never expected him to be as inconsiderate.

“Richard, think about it. Margaret will tell everyone and while I would love for as many people as possible to hear of our relationship your wife only died four months ago. You are still in mourning,” she added softly. “Any romantic attachments that early would offend her family who, I am sure, are already struggling with their grief. I do not wish to be the sort of woman who disrespects the departed by carrying on with their husband. Even our kiss today was improper.”

“We've done a lot more before.”

“I know, but I don't want our union to be viewed as a wicked one or a scandalous one. Please Richard just keep it secret for a while longer and then we can tell the world.” She brought her hand up to cup his face and he nodded in agreement with her statement.

“Alright. For the next few months I will attempt to conceal any affection I feel for you.”

“Thank you.”

As they entered the house they heard Emmeline and Annabeth running about the rooms which Charlotte could still remember being inhabited by Elizabeth and Jane. Particularly she remembered an incident when she was seventeen, Elizabeth nine and Jane eleven. At that point she had wondered about Elizabeth – how she managed to have that much energy and Jane even seemed surprised with her younger sister's boyish behaviour ( her friend climbing up the big tree in the orchard sprung into Charlotte's mind: how scared she had been that Elizabeth would fall!) However both her children seemed to have taken after their god-mother and Charlotte was nothing but grateful. Perhaps if she'd have had Lizzy's will then she would not have married Collins or lost an opportunity with Richard. However that, even to herself, sounded self-pitying and that was one quality which Charlotte had hoped never to have. So she gathered herself together and walked into the parlour. Her brother was standing beside his wife.

“Charlotte how was your walk?” The Philip's gaze swung round to Richard and the scowl which had been present on his face for most of the previous night re-appeared. “Colonel Fitzwilliam. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

“Me too Philip.”

“Philip what brought you over here?” Charlotte took a gulp. Her brother was a man who valued morals and propriety over anything else and she knew that if he found out the true nature of her relationship with Richard he would be furious.

“I cam to see my wife, my sister and my nieces. How about you Colonel?”

“Just popped in for a cup of tea.”

“What an excellent notion!” cried Margaret, keen to make the tension in the room disappear. “I'll have Mrs Groamsley make it up right now! Philip do you want to come with me? You have often said that you want to investigate the state of the kitchens.” She was pleading with her husband to accompany her but he would not come and she let out a frustrated sigh. “Colonel?”

“No thank you Mrs Lucas. I am quite content here.”

“Oh God,” she whispered before disappearing down the hallway which led to the kitchen. Charlotte watched her going with dismay: Margaret would have supported her and Richard, she knew she would have. Her only hope was that her sister-in-law would return as soon as possible. In the meantime Richard had taken a station by the window and her brother stood behind the chair which his wife had recently vacated. Charlotte compromised and sat down at the piano which was a good distance away from either.

“So Colonel, how do you find Longbourn?”

“I find it perfectly to my liking Mr Lucas.”

“Indeed. Is this your first stay in this area?”

“No. My cousin's friend, a Mr Charles Bingley, rented Netherfield. I bought the lease from him.”

“It seems that Mr Bingley has been of great use to you.”

“Philip whatever are you on about?” Charlotte glanced at her brother.

“I believe the Colonel knows Charlotte. In fact I would think that he initiated the relationship.”

“What?” Charlotte's heart was beating so fast in fear that they had been discovered. Richard, on the other hand, was just staring at Philip with his eyes like ice. Charlotte knew that Philip was no match for Richard but she also knew that Richard, if she stopped him, would not fight her brother but Philip, no matter what she said, would fight Richard.

“Between Mr Bingley and himself, Charlotte.” Immediately Charlotte's heart rate started to decrease and she found that she could breathe quite normally now. At the point Margaret came back into the room carrying a try with four cups on it. She was looking anxious and when she saw that everyone was in one piece she seemed to relax a little.

“What were you all talking about?” she asked. “Nothing too interesting I hope.”

“Just about Mr Bingley and the Colonel.”

“Oh I simply adore Mr Bingley. He came here last year and he was such a charming man that I found myself liking him immediately. Don't you think he is a wonderful man Charlotte?”

“Yes, and very devoted to his wife and children as well. No one could ask more in a man.” Richard turned his head away to the window again and Charlotte understood that she had upset him. She had not meant to but she had. She only hoped that he would not be too angry.

“And generous as well for isn't his son the owner of Longbourn because you had no sons?”

“That is true. He permitted me to live here and I am eternally grateful.” Philip glanced over at Richard before looking back at his sister. His face seemed strained as if he knew he should not say something but his conscience would not allow it to be left.

“Did he?”

“You know that Mr Bingley did indeed let us stay here.”

“I do, however was he acting alone?” Charlotte was starting to feel uneasy about this whole conversation. She glanced over at Richard and saw that he was unable to look her in the eye. That made everything even more confusing. Margaret was equally curious.

“Do you think that he acted alone Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

“How?”

“When a man has a thirst for knowledge Richard, he will not wait to get to the bottom of things. When I discovered that Mr Bingley had let my sister live here, rent free I suspected that something was up. So I did a little poking around, asked some people in the know and do you know what I came up with?”

“I can guess,” grimaced Richard. Charlotte was even more confused now.

“Tell me what you found Philip. I live in this house and so do my girls. I deserve to know.” Charlotte stood up and walked over to her brother with a strength that she had only possessed a few times. Philip would not meet her eyes either. “What is the matter? You say that much and then you clam up. Tell me!”

“Alright. But do not blame me for the results.” Charlotte nodded and her brother continued, “When Mr Bingley let you stay here at no charge I wondered about the sense of such a man. So I endeavoured to find out what was his real motive. Surely no man could be that generous? At one stage I believed that there might have been an attachment between the two of you however when I observed him with his wife it was clear that it was only her that he loved. For a while I stopped my search for information, believing myself to have been carried away by the mystery of it. Then when Mr and Mrs Darcy came down to visit us I happened to hear her remark to him that Bingley was being extremely generous and to that Darcy replied that perhaps it was not him who was the generous one. They walked away from me and I could hear no more. The next morning I made inquiries to solicitors and found that there was a letter which existed at Mr Bingley's solicitor's office. When I discovered the letter I imagined that this would be the end of all my worries and suspicions on the topic. However the contents of the letter furthered them rather than hindered them.”

“What did the letter say?”

“I have it here. I always carry it for fear that I will lose it or that it will fall into another's hands. The information would be detrimental for all those concerned of anybody else found out.” Charlotte was starting to get a bad feeling about this. Philip pulled out a crumpled letter from his jacket pocket and handed it to her with a solemn expression. “Read it. I am sorry if it causes you any pain.” Charlotte took the letter, opened it and began to read it aloud.

Bingley,

I write to you today to ask you for a tremendous favour. I know that we are not that well acquainted but you are friends with Darcy so I hope to rely on your relationship with him. It has come to my knowledge that following Mr Collins' death your son is in possession of Longbourn. I believe that you will not move into Longbourn and, forgive me for my presumption, that it will not interest you greatly. I am sure that you know of Mr Collins' wife and their children who are currently residing there and it is on their behalf that I am writing to you. Mrs Collins does not know anything about this matter and I would appreciate it greatly if you never divulged the information contained in this letter. In order for you to understand my request I must tell you my reasons for asking.

During the first months of Mrs Collins' marriage I happened to meet her when I was visiting Rosings Park, my Aunt Catherine's estate. Quickly I began to fall in love with her and, I believed, she for me. Things were said and done that both of us should regret but I do not wish to bore you with the details. Anyway she stayed with her husband and when Mr Bennet died Collins inherited Longbourn (of which you are aware). Now that he has died she has nowhere to go and I am writing to you to beg you to let her remain in her home as I would not wish any harm to befall her. I would pay the rent it would take to keep the place running and do whatever I could to help you and her. Please consider my offer and if you are going to accept it I enclose my address. I only add that you do not tell anyone, not even your wife, of what I have divulged. God be with you,

Richard Fitzwilliam

Charlotte didn't know how she had managed to continue to read as her legs had long since broken beneath her. She was dimly aware that Margaret had helped her into a chair. She stared dumbfounded at the letter before gazing up at her brother and when he bent his head she turned to face Richard.

“Why?”

Chapter Eight

Posted on Monday, 24 October 2005

“Why did you do that?”

The tone in his beloved's voice almost made Richard's heart break. She sounded so child-like and innocent that although he had intended to do good he was heartily ashamed of keeping this from her. After all she deserved to know who was keeping a roof over her head. However upon looking back he realized that Bingley probably would have looked after Charlotte anyway. Richard's actions had been completely blinded by love for her.

“I...that is I didn't mean to...All I intended to do was help you. Nothing more.” Richard looked directly into Charlotte's eyes that time and saw the tears which clouded them. Obviously she was hurt at his lie. He wondered if she would ever allow him to make it up to her. Probably not. Life was cruel that way. Philip saw that neither party were allowing themselves to speak so he took the initiative.

“When I realized who had moved into Netherfield I panicked. I knew from this letter that there was something between the two of you, and all I could think of was my own position in society. For that I am truly sorry. However I hope that you both know the impropriety of your actions.” His voice was stern and Richard had flashbacks of Collins' predecessor who had always frightened him as a young boy. He remembered with terror an incident when Mr Haverly had caught him and Darcy up an apple tree at Rosings. Let it be said that on that occasion Mr Haverly's anger had even exceeded Lady Catherine's. It was not an experience he wanted to relive.

“Philip I am well aware of what Richard and I did. And by the way I am still over ten years your senior.” She seemed annoyed but Richard knew that it was just her way of coping with things. It was a survival mechanism which she had perfected at Hunsford and which she had used on him many times.

“Charlotte.”

“Do not 'Charlotte' me Philip. That was all in the past. Now if you will excuse me I must collect some flowers for the girls' rooms. Philip, Margaret, good day. I will see you at Mama's dinner tomorrow.”

She had not added any adieu for him and Richard used this excuse to go running after her. She knew he was following her but she did not order him away. That was progress. Abruptly she came to a halt in a sheltered grove away from her family's prying eyes. It was the same grove in which she had found Richard all those years ago, drunk and foul smelling. How he was ashamed of his actions then! As she sat down on the bench Richard remained standing in front of her. He peered down to see her reaction but she would not look up. Neither would she speak. After a few moments of unbearable silence Richard spoke, his voice miraculously clear and commanding.

“Charlotte, I know I should have told you but I thought that you wouldn't care for my interference. I could not let you live in poor conditions when I could offer you so much more.” She lifted her head.

“Richard you lied to me. What's worse is that I can't hate you for it. I am well aware of my foolishness but my heart will not allow me to be angry.”

“That is a good sign then,” he tried to tease her before he realized that that was never going to get him anywhere in this conversation. “Charlotte please say that you will forgive me for this. Imagine the life we could have together. Please Charlotte. For us, for the children.” He spoke in such low, somber tones that she could barely hear him.

“Mr Collins died six years ago. That was when you wrote the letter.”

“It was. As soon as I heard. Couldn't let my Charlotte get away from me now could I?”

“Six years ago. You got married six years ago.”

“I did.” He was beginning to see where she was going with this and he did not like it.

“My husband died on the 20th September, you were married on the 20th also and the letter was written on the 23rd.” She did not ask him but he knew what she wanted him to explain.

“The irony of the situation does not escape me. The day after I got married I was informed, through Darcy, that Collins had died. Immediately I hated myself for getting married, knowing that if I had only delayed the wedding by three or four days, that I would have heard that you were single again. I struggled for days trying to decided what my course of action should be. On the morning of the 23rd I realized that I would have to do something for you – my conscience would not let the matter rest – and so, driven only by a desire to do good, I wrote to Bingley. How foolish my actions were or otherwise, I leave for you to decide. I can only plead that it was my love for you which caused them.”

Charlotte looked down at the ground again and Richard thought that he had lost the battle with her and would have to begin all over again in someplace new and try to forget her. However he saw a damp splodge fall on the dry earth beneath her face and he understood why she was not speaking to him: she was crying.

Richard bent down and embraced her and after a while Charlotte let herself be comforted. Then her arms crept around his shoulders and held him tight to her as if afraid that he would vanish if she let him go. Richard, under much the same sentiment, could only marvel at this wonderful woman who he had fallen in love with.

“Richard when I think of how...” She tailed off as emotion flowed through her. “Richard, we were so close and yet we managed to destroy everything in our paths.”

“No we didn't. We've got the children. If we had not been such obstinate fools – self-sacrificing too I must add – we would not have been blessed with them. Don't tell me that you've changed your mind since dinner at Netherfield. I'm sure you would not give up Annabeth for the world.”

“I wouldn't. But all the same when I think of what we could have been like...”

“Sssh. If there's one thing I've learned it's that there's no point in what ifs, all that matters is the future and what we do with that.” She lifted her head off his shoulders and licked the tears off her lips as she prepared for what he was going to say next.

“And what do we do with it?”

“What we do is grasp it with both hands and both feet and anything else we can cling onto it with.”

“And how can we do that?”

He smiled at her slyness and felt a nervousness rise up in him. This was the time when everything could become marvelous and heavenly or else all his world could crash down before his eyes. Again. “We can do that in numerous ways Charlotte.” He stopped and it was her turn to smile.

“And what would they be?”

“My you're full of questions today!”

“I'm just curious.”

He snorted. “Hmm. Curious my eye.”

“Carry on.”

“Fine. There's one sure-fire way we can decide our future and that's by making it ourselves. I'm asking you Charlotte, my darling love, if you will spend the rest of your life by my side and make me so unbelievably happy that I shall never envy another man in all the world.”

She gasped and her eyes filled with so much delight that they became wet with tears again. Richard felt his own prick with emotion at finally realizing that what he had hoped for for more than ten years could possibly be coming true.

“Charlotte, will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes Richard I will!” She flung her arms around him and he lifted her up into the air. She screamed slightly as he spun her around.

“Richard this is ridiculous! I am a woman in her forties and you are nearly fifty! Richard!!!”

All that Margaret could hear as she listened outside the door was laughter, male and female. She smiled in contentment and felt Philip's arm on her shoulder. Margaret turned round to face her husband and expected to see his face clouded over with disappointment. On the contrary, he was laughing as well.

“I love you Margaret.”

“I love you too Philip.”

They kissed.

This time of the year seemed very romantic indeed.

Five months later

Despite her mother's plans of an outrageous wedding and wedding breakfast, Charlotte had managed to keep things simple and plain: anything showy or pompous only reminded her of her wedding to Mr Collins.

“Charlotte I dare say that you will make Richard an excellent wife. Much better than Mr Collins.”

“I hope I shall Elizabeth.” Charlotte could feel apprehension building up inside of her and knew that it was not out of fear but as a result of thinking of all the happiness which could come.

“At least you will not have to listen to sermons explaining the virtues of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

“Indeed. I don't think I need to fear that from Richard. Anyway you shouldn't speak like that. It is rude to speak so of the dead.”

“Charlotte I do believe that you are smiling. One should not smile too much before a wedding, it only provides oneself with an expectation that everything in the marriage will be like that.”

“I am sure you are just teasing me Lizzy. You and Mr Darcy seem perfectly happy together still.”

“True. And after all you do not have to listen to your mother lecture you about your wedding night. I shall never forget when Mama spoke to Jane and me about it. It was mortifying. Besides, you have already gotten that part of your marriage sorted out. You don't have to fear anything.” There was a smile edging round Elizabeth's lips which allowed Charlotte to understand that she was only teasing her. Charlotte had been scared about telling Elizabeth about her relationship with Richard but she had taken it very well and the only thing she said was that it was understandable as Collins was so horrible and the Colonel so nice. Both women had fallen down with laughter at that point.

“Charlotte are you ready?” Margaret appeared at the door and as she edged into the room the fact that she was with child became evident. She was five months gone now.

“Yes Margaret. Lizzy?”

“It is your wedding Charlotte.”

They walked into the Church and the sight which greeted Charlotte was slightly intimidating. Her mother, four brothers, two sisters, their children and spouses were all there, Mr and Mrs Bingley looking absolutely delighted at what had happened, Mr and Mrs Foster neé Darcy with their children, Lady Anne de Bourgh and countless other people whom Charlotte recognized. Right at the front, standing beside Mr Darcy, was Richard. The glow on his face when he saw her was magical and no one could doubt the love either felt. Charlotte walked over to him and together they looked at the minister. He took the cue and gazing at both people in front of him he looked down at the service.

“Let us begin.”

The End