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Chapter 5

Posted on Tuesday, 7 December 2004, at

Mrs. Reynolds left the parlor to attend her other charge sleeping peacefully in an upstairs bedchamber. The master would no doubt awaken in a short time, she hoped returned to reason. He would then surely be despondent at thinking Elizabeth had only been a dream and nothing more.

Mrs. Reynolds knew it would have to remain so until she had word from the young woman whom she had pledged secrecy on the matter. Only if there were a reason would she be forced to confront the master. Walking heavily up the stairway, her mind reeled as she tried to understand the master’s behavior.

Even in his delusion how could he have not realized her innocence? Even knowing this young woman was perfect for him, how could he have such illusions of her

She walked down the hallway toward the rooms adjacent to the ones where she had left him stilling pondering his behavior.

Why had he fought against his own heart to treat her so ill? What could have possessed the master to act so cruelly? Her mind reviewed some of his conduct of late.

His acting with such distain towards her no doubt due to his position, one where he is viewed as an example, making him resolute to avoid any misstep in the eyes of society.

The housekeeper then remembered what Elizabeth had told her of Kent, and of his proposal which shocked Mrs. Reynolds now knowing the disparity of their positions in society. She turned the knob to the master’s rooms, her mind still striving to understand him.

He proposed to her, so he had finally given way to his heart’s desire thinking the disparity insurmountable, but she said he was arrogant still that she had refused him.

Shaking her head the housekeeper remembered the sensitive intense child who grew into the reserved and generous master to at last have knowledge of and an understanding of the reasons behind much of his despondency.

To have lost so much in his young life, to be without his mother’s love and left by his father just as he had come to age, to live such a lonely existence for all those years, and then to finally find someone to give him back much of that happiness lost only to have her spurn him with such venom as she admitted. That must be what drove him to this madness.

Now in the master’s own rooms, she located the master’s old valet who Darcy had allowed to remain in service at the manor although now too old to travel with him. She informed Rutherford that the master had fallen asleep in another of the bedchambers, and she required his aid in removing the master to his own bed chambers. Rutherford wondered at her not enlisting the younger shoulders of one or more of the man-servants for the task, but silently followed her through the adjoining door to the rooms that had once belonged to Lady Anne.

They entered the mistress’s bedchamber to find the master still sprawled upon the bed fast asleep. The valet removed the blanket, raising his brows but remained silent as he redressed his master, looking about the room for other discarded clothing. Feeling the coat, he removed the flask. Glancing at Mrs. Reynolds as he felt its weight, he remarked in surprise, “Still full. If he imbibed he must have only taken a sip or two.”

Sighing Rutherford began to pull his master to his feet. If the valet had an opinion of the condition of the bed covers, he kept his speculation to himself as well. Darcy stirred, and with the valet’s encouragement began to walk the short distance to his own chambers, still drugged with the sleep and fatigue.

“I had a wonderful dream of my wife, Rutherford,” Darcy rambled, half awake. The master’s breath had not the slightest smell of brandy, so Rutherford’s surprised eyes opening wider at such a statement, his mind now wondering what had actually taken place to the young master whose bent had never before tended to acts of disrepute. But Rutherford was ever loyal to the Darcy men and ferociously so to this particular one who had taken up the burden of so large a responsibility as Pemberley that it would have broken lesser men, and done well by the estate and household, servants and tenants alike.

No, I will never betray the master for whatever has happened.

“Yes, sir.” Rutherford’s reply was nonchalant as he led his master through the door, adding nothing further to encourage the master’s further mutterings. Staring now at the housekeeper, the old valet gave her an understanding nod of silent agreement that this incident would not be gossip fodder by way of his person.

Mrs. Reynolds seems to have everything well in hand. I need only take charge of the master.

Mrs. Reynolds striped the cover from the bed and took it to the washroom where she rinsed out the stain before returning it to the bed where it would eventually air dry. She rinsed out all the used cloths, and then disposed of the darkened water down the drain used for the chamber pots, completely removing all evidence of what had occurred between the master and the young miss, hoping all the while that Elizabeth would be convincing to her relations determined her resolve to remain quiet about the encounter.

Elizabeth strode into the parlor without giving anything away, believing she had fooled even her relations. For their part they were so grateful of her having been found, thinking only that she had gotten lost amid the vast expanse of the park that they both hugged and kissed her repeatedly. Aunt Madeline finally did take note that Elizabeth’s appearance slightly out of her normal congenial mien, and how sad were her eyes as though she had been crying. Insisting that she sit down, Aunt Gardiner offered her a cup of tea and a biscuit, trying to tease her niece into a smile.

“We had quite despaired when we ventured into the oaks searching for you, my dear. We thought that they had taken you up into their boughs as if in some fairy tale.”

Elizabeth did smile to hide her distress. “Nothing quite so fanciful as that, Aunt, I assure you.”

Her aunt noticed that Elizabeth’s smile did not reach her eyes, wondering if she should insist Lizzy tell them what had occurred to prevent her from joining them earlier.

Elizabeth, however, would give away nothing that had taken place during her absence from them admitting only to being lost for a time along the way. Soon they were on their return ride to the Lambton Inn, and would continue the next morning on the remainder of their tour.

Upon Elizabeth’s retiring her aunt and uncle had a discussion in the privacy of their own room, both having noticed Elizabeth’s lessened spontaneity at suggested places to sightsee, acquiescing without question to anywhere else they wished to travel. Both speculated as to the cause.

“Then you are in agreement that something must have taken place at Pemberley?”

“Yes, Madeline, I am sure of it. As her guardian it worries me not to be privy to the particulars of any incident. I am responsible for her, and assured Thomas of Lizzy’s well being.

“Should we insist on her relating what has transpired, my dear?”

Mr. Gardiner thought a moment on what that conversation would entail should Elizabeth did not wish to enlighten them, and he shook his head. “No, I fear if we try to force her to reveal it she may become even more taciturn and despondent. I would rather she willingly trust us and tell us of her own accord.”

Mrs. Gardiner nodded at her husband’s wise decision, both knowing Elizabeth oft times keeps her own counsel on matters dear to her, and would only impart information if she thought it would be helpful, and would rail against being forced to disclose it. Neither relation thought insisting she speak of it would be of benefit to her at this time, and decided to wait for Elizabeth to come forward on her own.

“Perhaps you are right, my dear, that we wait a while, then we shall know more on how to proceed.”

For the remainder of their tour Elizabeth somber mood did lessen the further away from Derbyshire and Pemberley they traveled, but they could attest with certainty that their niece’s gravity never fully lifted. She was jovial with new sights, remarking on whatever currently attracted comment when asked to speak. Without fail, though, Elizabeth resolutely avoided even subtle inquiries of Derbyshire or Pemberley, dismissing them with the art of distraction to another topic, a talent for which she was quite adept. Aunt Madeline, however, was not fooled by Elizabeth’s subtle attempts that would so easily turn Mrs. Bennet or even perhaps Elizabeth’s younger sisters.

No, she is pretending too much that all is well for it to be so. Perhaps she will confide in me when we reach Longbourn. Perhaps then I might aid her through this sadness.

By the time their carriage had transported the three companions south again into Hertfordshire, they had been gone from Pemberley for almost an entire month. Those at Longbourn were happy for their return, eager to hear of the journey.

Uncle Gardiner delighted his three younger nieces, regaling them with stories of vast estates with haunted castles on their tour that even Mary admitted a smile for her favorite uncle.

When asked, Elizabeth related to them of the enormous parks that they visited where she had found the most solace. But the sisters were less interested in trees than Uncle Edward’s tale of ghosts and spirits in the creepy castles and dank dungeons of which Elizabeth had no memory.

Elizabeth was left to reflect upon all that the trip had taken from her as well as that of her sister. It seemed that Mr. Darcy’s delusion included his admitting his interference to Mr. Bingley for she did not notice any evidence of his renewing his addresses to Jane. Her mother would surely have mentioned it at once upon their arrival if it had taken place.

No, that too had been part of his dementia. Alas, poor Jane. If only Mr. Bingley could be privy to your true feelings, he would certainly return to Netherfield of his own accord.

Jane noticed her sister’s pensive mood, but wished not to intrude, decided to wait until they retired to ask the reasons behind it.

Mr. Bennet, too, noted the lessened liveliness of his second daughter, so different from when she had left him, vowing to ask her in private why she seemed so low of spirit.

The remainder of the family seemed oblivious to Elizabeth, talking gaily of which daughter would be allowed to go on tour with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner on their next excursion. Uncle Edward laughed at all of them wishing to be the one.

Having her relations agreeing to take them when next they went into country cheered Lydia considerably from her insistent pouting. Her father had seen the wisdom of disallowing her to travel with Colonel & Mrs. Foster as her particular friend when the militia decamped for Brighton. At her mentioning of it again, her father made a statement to all in the room.

“You are a merry girl, Lydia. But your judgment with officers, and might I say men in general, is not so sound as that of your older sisters.”

Elizabeth stared at father’s profile, sighing with such discontentment that tears welled into her eyes.

Father, if you only knew how one of the older sisters had used such poor judgment toward a man, you would be struck dumb with disappointment.

At retiring she begged off speaking even with Jane for more than a few moments, and fell into her bed to cry herself to an exhausted sleep at her unhappy lot.

On the day before their departure to their home on Gracechurch Street, Aunt Madeline tried one last time to have Elizabeth relieve herself of whatever sadness surrounded her. Asking that she come to her bedchamber, Mr. Gardiner held her niece’s hands as they sat on the bed.

“I enjoyed most of our trip with you, Lizzy. Tell me if you too were equally diverted.”

“Yes, Aunt, I enjoyed your company very much.”

“I…must admit to having some misgivings when we traveled into Lambton…and Pemberley. Tell me truthfully, Lizzy. Are your thoughts similar to mine?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you were not happy that we added that estate to our tour because of the history you had with its owner.”

“It was a grand house, Aunt, and the park was beautiful, so lovely.”

Here Elizabeth paled, avoiding her Aunt’s eyes for fear of misting.

“Lizzy, I am not a fool. I know something happened to you there, something that haunts you even now. Can you not tell me? I assure you it will be in the strictest confidence.”

But Elizabeth merely shook her head. “There is nothing I can relate to you at this time, Aunt.”

She bit her lower lip, a sign to her aunt that there was more to this than she would say. Aunt Madeline raised Lizzy’s chin so that their eyes met.

“Your uncle and I were responsible for you while there. If something has happened to have caused your remorse, we should be made aware of it that some remedy be found.”

Under such a steady gaze, Elizabeth’s bottom lip began to tremble. Indeed, her entire frame began to shake, tears filling her eyes. But she was resolute in her denials. ‘There is nothing I can relate to you at this-”

Her aunt stopped her speech with a finger upon her lips, and nodded her head. “You will write to me, Lizzy,” she commanded her niece. “You will tell me-”

Elizabeth shook her head insisting, “there is nothing I can tell you, Aunt.”

Elizabeth’s trembling quit, her eyes now hardened to more inquiries. Mrs. Gardiner knew she would get no more from her niece now, though perhaps she had more than was needed to speculate.

“Promise me one thing then, Lizzy. Promise me you will remember that both your uncle and I would welcome you should you have at any time the need of…a change of scenery and wish to come to town.” Elizabeth swallowed as she stared into her aunt’s eyes.

That is good to know that when father finds out what I have done and I am turned out of Longbourn, I will have at least that refuge.

Nodding, she agreed. “Yes, I can promise you that much, Aunt.” Her aunt took her into her arms, trying to let Elizabeth know how very dear she was.

The next morning as the carriage was made ready for the Gardiners to depart for home, Uncle Edward hugged Elizabeth a very long time whispering in her ear.

“I wish I could give you some peace, my child, over whatever ails you at present. I feel that I am to blame for taking you to a place that has caused you now to be so distraught.”

“Uncle, I am fine, I assure you,” she lied directly to his face, but he was too adept to be fooled.

“I wish it were so, my dear.” And he kissed her forehead as though a child he needed to soothe from some knee scrap or bruise.

“If there is anything I can do, anything at all to aid you.” Elizabeth nodded.

“If I have a need to, I will write you of it, Uncle Edward,” she whispered, holding back tears.

He nodded, kissing her again. Entering the carriage, sitting next to his wife they was gone.

One day after another of the next week seemed to drag as slowly by as the movement of the turtles she witnessed beside the restful streams. Elizabeth tried to keep her mind off what she awaited, but nothing in her father’s library would hold her interest. Everyday since leaving Pemberley she awoke with anticipation, daily wearing the added garment beneath her skirts. So assured each night that those uncomfortable days would soon be upon her, sleep came easily at first.

What we did must have now altered my cycle, to have it merely delay their resumption.

But now at home she became more down heartened at each day’s disappointment when what she had hoped for did not arrive. Soon plagued with insomnia her mind raced with remorse at her behavior, at the hopelessness of Mr. Darcy’s lunacy, at her heart being left bound to him in that garden room, never again to be her own. All preyed on her throughout the nights, leaving her exhausted each morning.

Taking long walks at first seemed to help relieve some of her anxiety; all the sights and smells of nature were a balm to her troubled mind. She remembered the loveliness of the walks she had taken with her relations in all the wonderful parks.

With the sights of Pemberley filling her mind, all the images of its beauty from which she would now be forever parted, her melancholy returned, increasing each day into despondency so deep she could not escape.

Why do my courses not come? Why unless…oh heaven forbid if it has happened!

The thought of being with child was a bad enough notion, but with a man in such a deluded state as to leave her situation so bleak, she prayed for the opposite to be true.

She had been back home at Longbourn nearly a week, beginning today’s walk quite early, wondering when the missive sent to Mrs. Reynolds would reach Pemberley and what she would have to say of it. Her thoughts could not long avoid dwelling on the other significant person at Pemberley.

Had Mr. Darcy awoken still deluded? If he not be, would Mrs. Reynolds then tell him that our encounter was not a dream as she promised? What would he say to that? What would he think of me? Had only his deluded self been in love with me, that even after Mrs. Reynolds relates what had happened, would he still have cause to come to me? He spoke of love at Hunsford, but he left me then. And now, when my need may be great, would he come to protect me from scandal?

In her grief she doubted his promises to her. She had come to doubt his love shown to her while in his delusion.

No, he will not keep me safe. He will not come, for nothing he said was real.

Her tears clouded the sun drenched path that led back to Longbourn, but she took no notice of it, and ambled on trying to formulate a secondary plan for her.

Perhaps I should take my aunt up on her offer of support. Only when I arrive at their home will tell them all. Perhaps my uncle will be able to advise me on how best to proceed for there is no one here I can confide in to tell me what to do!

Jane who had come from a different direction and kept calling to her until Elizabeth at last came out of her unpleasant revelry and halted her steps to wait for her sister to near.

“Lizzy! Why did you not stop? I have been calling your name five times now.”

“I am sorry. I was deep in thought.”

“Yes, so I see. You have been very quiet all week since your return from the excursion into the North Country. I wish you would tell me what has caused you to be so troubled?”

Elizabeth tried to smile in a disarming fashion to put off her sister. “Oh, Jane, you and father needlessly worry over me.”

Jane, however, did not think that were so and waited for Elizabeth to say more. When she did not, Jane raised Elizabeth’s chin that their eyes might meet. The sadness was so apparent now that tears formed in Elizabeth’s eyes, and her lip trembled, unable to hide from Jane’s serene gaze.

Jane took her sister into a warm embrace for some moments until her had exhausted her tears. Then wiping Elizabeth’s face with her handkerchief, Jane kissed her cheek softly, noting the dark circles that signified lack of restful sleep.

“I will not ask you if you do not wish to tell me of your sorrow, Lizzy. You know that I am here to listen to whatever you choose to relate to me in confidence.”

“You are too good, dear Jane. “ Then barely whispering she added, “you would never be one to fall.”

“Lizzy?”

“I have done a dreadful thing, Jane. I…I…can not speak of it even now.”

As her sister stared into Lizzy’s eyes Jane knew Lizzy would not divulge more and instead asked, “And is there nothing that can be done to give you some relief?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, nothing is left to do but wait.”

Jane’s brows knitted at this enigmatic statement.

“How long must you wait, Lizzy?”

“Not long now.”

“What will happen after you have waited?”

“If it is what I am beginning to suspect…then everything will change.”

“Everything, Lizzy? What do you mean?”

Elizabeth gazed intensely at her sister through misting eyes. “The world as we know it, Jane, will be irrevocably changed.”

And with that equally cryptic statement Elizabeth pulled out of her sister’s comforting embrace, turning back to her solitary walk, leaving Jane standing in the path confused by her sister’s behavior.

This all started with her tour. Aunt and Uncle Gardiner must have some knowledge of what has so altered Lizzy. I will write them directly I return home to insist that I know of it.

Jane turned in the direction of Longbourn, determined to compose her missive to her relations that very day.

Chapter 6

Posted on Friday, 10 December 2004

Looking for Your Face

From the beginning of my life I have been looking for your face but today I have seen it
Today I have seen the charm, the beauty, the unfathomable grace of the face that I was looking for
Today I have found you and those who laughed and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking as I did
I am bewildered by the magnificence of your beauty
and wish to see you with a hundred eyes
My heart has burned with passion and has searched forever
For this wondrous beauty that I now behold
I am ashamed to call this love human and afraid of God to call it divine
Your fragrant breath like the morning breeze has come to the stillness of the garden
You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine and also your shadow
My soul is screaming in ecstasy
Every fiber of my being is in love with you
Your effulgence has lit a fire in my heart
And you have made radiant for me the earth and the sky
My arrow of love has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy and my heart is a place of prayer
~ Rumi

Darcy in the meantime, had awakened the next morning assured of her being beside him, but when he opened his eyes to her absence, it confirmed to him that Elizabeth had been a dream. Closing his eyes he rolled over, his arm covering his face and he gasped. He could still smell her fragrance on his clothing.

How can it be that she still lingers?

His dream had been so intense, so vivid, more so than any other that his waking mind easily envisioned Elizabeth, his arms still feeling her softness, his chest warmed by her against him, her soft touch embracing him, her smile as she gazed back with eyes filled so with love. So wonderful was this dream where she had literally infused him with her love, had so immersed him in her radiant felicity that when he finally opened his eyes again his despondency was gone, his mind clear. He was more content now than he had been in the months after Rosings. All his sadness was replaced by the warmth of her presence now within him.

He knew Elizabeth could not have truly been here else she would be here still, but his heart told him she had been real, as real as he. Without doubt he felt that she had loved him utterly and completely that his heart and his very soul were now fused with hers, never more to be parted. Bolstered by this undeniable assurance and this extraordinary vision made him whole again, steady. He breathed a sigh of one whose sanity had returned after months of living in a sea of shadows with but one slender line of hope, at last to be pulled to safety into her light. Elizabeth had come to him in the most exquisite dream and had brought him back from the precipice.

I am well, able now to become a better man…because of you, dearest Elizabeth.

He lay content now envisioning her smiling back at him. Slowly other sounds began to invade his senses. Hearing his valet wandering about the room, Darcy gazed over to him, his voice calm.

“Good morning, Rutherford.”

“Well good morning, sir.” Rutherford was surprised at the master’s obvious tone of contentment missing for so many months. With cautious optimism the old valet asked the same question that had so often of late brought refusal, “Would you like me to ring to have your breakfast served in your room? Or perhaps…you would first prefer to dress and…breakfast down stairs?”

Rutherford was gratified when the master voiced, “I would dress first, Rutherford, and then take my breakfast downstairs.”

Yes!

“Very good, sir,” the old valet kept his tone normal although his thoughts were anything but as he helped the master into his robe. “Is not Miss Georgiana returning from town this day with several of your friends?”

Darcy nodded, smiling, thinking now of being able to entertain company, to wish to have friends and family around him once more.

“Would you like me to go see if all is in readiness, sir?”

“That won’t be necessary, Rutherford. I shall see to it when I go downstairs, but thank you for the offer.”

“Yes, sir, very good, sir.”

He seems almost his old self again, praise be the Lord!

Rutherford’s step had an extra bounce to it as he went into the dressing closet to choose suitable attire for the master, glad that he had seen fit to warm the water for the master’s bath with the hope that the master would agree. Darcy remained beside the bed feeling well enough now to carry on with his responsibilities to his family and that of Pemberley. He pictured Elizabeth before him smiling with approval, felt her love for him.

Hereafter I will never be without you, never be alone again.

A calm had settled upon the master to the relief of the entire household. He no longer imbibed to excess of his favorite brandy, nor roamed the halls late into the night. With Darcy’s concentrating once more on estate business that had been wisely managed by his trusted steward, Mr. Withers thanked the Almighty for an answer to his daily prayer for the master’s renewed health. Often times one or more of the servants witnessed the master smiling for no apparent reason in his busy schedule, as his conscious mind now happily conjured up Elizabeth’s image.

This most recent dream of her had been of such intensity that all others paled before it into a distant memory. At last welcoming sleep, the same dream reoccurred with such frequency now, to give him the greatest comfort. He often awoke so filled with Elizabeth’s love that Georgiana was sure he was himself again.

Each day as he rose from bed with his thoughts of Elizabeth, he gazed silently at the door of the adjoining room leading to her bedchambers with the garden walls, a tiny seed of dread nagging at him that if he entered there it would be somehow different from what he imagined. He merely caressed the door and whispered, “Elizabeth.”

Several weeks went by to have a new month replace the last on the calendar in his study. He sat for a few moments behind his desk gazing at the sunny morning beyond the windows, still trying to decide if he needed to vary his habit now of beginning his business correspondences directly after breakfast.

His dream the night before seemed to have lasted for hours and had been of such intensity that he awoke with a start. He knew Elizabeth would be beside him in his bed that he turned his eyes to view her, breathless in anticipation. For the first time in many weeks he felt the smallest hint of sadness enter his mind at her absence until he envisioned her laughing eyes and smiling face standing before the adjoining door. This image of her so vivid, bid him enter.

Even before dressing he alit from his bed donning only slippers and his robe and stood before the door. With trembling fingers he grasped the knob and pulled it open gazing from the threshold to take stock of the room. It was unchanged from his dream. He walked well into the center expecting to see Elizabeth; he could almost smell the lavender scent that she wore. The walls were consoling to his eyes as he took them in. These gardens like those outside were lush and verdant. Suddenly his foot stepped on something hard in the soft carpet. He looked down to spy a shiny piece of metal. Stooping down, he picked it up, recognizing it as a hair pin with a fragile butterfly at the tip. Fortunately his shoe had not damaged it. Holding it up to the light he wondered of its owner, reasoning that it was probably not the type a chambermaid would possess.

Had mother ever used such pins now to be long forgotten in her rug from so long ago?

His heart began to pound as his mind whispered another thought. Had his dream corporealized a keepsake for him to hold onto beyond his images of Elizabeth? His grasp tightened on the object.

How can that be?

Pocketing the hairpin close to his heart, he exited the room more distraught than ever, as his mind refused to acknowledge a feeling of foreboding.

Sitting now at his desk Darcy studied the metal hairpin, trying to decide if it had come from other than his dream. He laid it down and he picked up the first of a pile of correspondence he had yet to answer, trying to concentrate only to have the words blur, and he had to close his eyes to keep from becoming dizzy.

Remaining at his desk, he opened his eyes once more. Images of his dream came into his mind. He remembered removing hairpins from Elizabeth’s hair, but frowned at not recollecting their description when he could vividly recall the color of her dress, her bonnet, her coat, the tiny pink ribbons delicately tied in bows beneath her bodice. He leaned back in his chair, frustrated at his mind refusing to share that memory as he gazed once more at the hairpin.

He rose suddenly to remove himself from his study and out the door toward the stables. Thinking to clear his head with an early morning ride, he had one of his grooms saddle his favored stallion. Mounting quickly, he galloped over the near pastures and well into the far meadows, the wind whipping at his hair and clothing. Urging the horse onward, jumping hedges in between the pastures, the beast obeyed without understanding such urgency of the master seemingly being chased by some unseen danger. Finally feeling some discharge of tension Darcy at last eased off his breakneck speed to relieve the stallion which snorted and whinnied.

Darcy’s mind now more composed from the physical excretion, he dismounted and walked for a rest, leading it over to a nearby stream for a cool drink, as Darcy breathed with more regulation and his mind again reviewed details of his dream. Finally settling once more in his seat he allowed the animal to choose a leisurely walking gait down the paths leading back to the stables. Now Darcy could at last envision his beloved’s face, able to smile as his mind imagined the hairpins within her dark tresses, little shining butterflies.

I have decided on this path, my love, a life with you only in my dream, though at this moment…

Closing his eyes, Elizabeth caressed him as a gentle breeze touched his cheek, and he smiled feeling her love within him, giving him peace. Opening his eyes Darcy was content once more. Feeling the weight in his pocket he remembered the pewter flask that he always carried in his coat. Removing it, Darcy stared at it shining in the morning sun. He had vowed never to fall prey to that pit again, and tucked it back into his pocket without partaking any, rather spurring his horse to a quickened gait for his return to the manor.

Upon his re-entering the grounds nearer the house he saw the express rider approaching and proceeded to intercept him to inquire what news he brought.

The rider, wishing to shorten his trip of the ride up and back from the main house, offered the missives to Darcy so to be off again to his next stop. Darcy gave him the postage due and was handed the pile of mail. Leafing through the various business correspondences, he made note of the few letters from his or Georgiana’s friends and relations.

As he allowed his horse to walk the path back toward the stables at a leisurely pace Darcy suddenly reined him in hard, struck by the handwriting on a particular letter addressed to Mrs. Reynolds. The identity of the writer was unmistakable for he had memorized everything about her hand, and knew from the notes she had addressed to Longbourn when her sister was ill at Netherfield that this correspondence was from Elizabeth.

How is it that she would be writing to Mrs. Reynolds? What could she possibly have to say to my housekeeper?

Fighting the urge to tear open the missive, which would be a terrible breech of privacy, he longed to know what news she sent.

How is she fairing, and how is her family?

He spurred his horse to the manor and dismounted to rush indoors. He called for Mrs. Reynolds who joined him in the hallway and accompanied him to his study. Handing her the missive, he noticed that she was not surprised upon receiving it.

“Thank you, sir,” was her only reply, and she turned to leave.

“What could Miss Bennet possibly have to say to someone she has never met?”

Mrs. Reynolds stopped to stare into her master’s face, and then turned the letter over to see if the seal had been broken. It was intact.

“How do you know it is from her,” she asked him in turn.

His cheeks blushed and he faltered in his response. “I…took note of her style of handwriting when she was at Netherfield for a time.”

Mrs. Reynolds was not surprised at this statement, but said nothing of it.

Of course you would notice everything you could of her, master.

“Are you not going to open it to read what she says?”

Again looking at the missive in her hand, Mrs. Reynolds did indeed long to know of its contents, but tried to keep her voice neutral with a tone of casualness. “It is probably a note of thanks for allowing herself and her relations to tour the house in summer.”

Darcy’s mind began to reel.

What?

“She toured the house? When?”

Mrs. Reynolds chose her words carefully. “Almost a month ago, just prior to your bringing your friends from town.”

His gaze was piercing. “She was here? Before I arrived?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Reynolds stated simply.

But they had known each other far too long. Darcy knew at once that she was keeping something from him. And since knowing him from a babe, she likewise knew that he was beginning to reason all out for himself.

He paled, and beads of sweat formed on his upper lip, and he swallowed, thinking of their last coupling in his dream.

Can it be so?

“Can you read her letter now while I wait, and…let me know …what news of her?”

Mrs. Reynolds stared in his drawn face and nodded. Breaking the seal, she began to read.

My dear Mrs. Reynolds,

How can I put this in words that will relate to you what has not occurred in all this time?
There has now been an allowable amount of time, but they have not come. I am so confused still because I have not had any other signs to confirm whether or not there has been a result to my actions.
Please relate to me any other means I may look for, as I cannot ask anyone at my home or neighborhood without raising suspicion.
I am at your mercy in this matter, and am again relying on your discretion to keep this
from common knowledge for as long as possible, although I know it cannot not be for long.
Please make haste in your reply to this letter, as it will not arrive to me until it has been nearly six weeks since the event.

I remain your trusting friend,

Elizabeth Bennet

Mrs. Reynolds closed her eyes and sighed. Darcy saw her reaction, and he knew.

“It was not a dream.”

The housekeeper slowly shook her head.

Darcy dropped in the nearest chair, his legs unable to hold his weight, his mind unable to believe as the reality of the situation sunk in.

“I ravaged her?” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Oh, my G-d!”

Mrs. Reynolds knelt beside him, and tried to comfort him that he not again fall into despair.

“Master, you were not in your right mind. And even in your delusion, she told me of your tenderness with her. She said that it was she who allowed you to continue, and blames herself for the transgression.”

“It was not her fault. I…I am to blame. I took her-“

“No, sir, she said you did not. She told me that you treated her with such gentleness, stopping to give her time to adjust. And because you did not force her, she did not fight, but willingly allowed you your way with her. And she was only remorseful when she realized how your deluded mind made her situation hopeless.”

“She told you this? When?”

“Afterwards, when I happened upon her, sir. Though I had seen the proof I could not believe that you could have forced yourself on anyone. But when she began to relate what had truly happened, I knew your mind was in such a state where you thought only to treat her with tenderness.”

“I remember waking once and seeing a stain. Did I harm her? I thought perhaps I-”

“No, sir, not but a few days rest would not cure.”

“Great G-d!”

“She is fine now, sir.”

“But what does her letter say? Your face showed such sadness that I know something is wrong.”

She paused now wondering of the wisdom in involving the master in this girl’s troubles when his position allowed him to remain untouched by scandal if he did nothing.

Darcy, seeing her wavering in an effort to protect him commanded her, “Tell me!”

She allowed him to read the letter for himself, but the cryptic wording confused him.

“What does this mean?”

The housekeeper rose to stand over him. “I asked her to write to let me know if she had become…indisposed by this time. If she had not, and had you returned to your senses, I was then to speak to you of your responsibilities to her…and your child.”

“And would you have informed me if I had not intercepted the currier with this letter?”

He stared into the face of his housekeeper who virtually ran the day-to-day management of Pemberley’s household since his mother’s death with little guidance from himself. She was indomitable in her loyalty to this house and to his person, and would not willing allow anyone to disabuse him or his sister if she could prevent it. Her voice was deceptively calm as she thought of him being trapped by a fortune hunter with such a tactic. “I am…uncertain, sir, of what my actions would have been.” Clearly he inferred that she would probably not have related the contents of her missive to him

“Mrs. Reynolds.” His voice was calm, but conveyed an iron will behind it that she could not but respond to.

Head down now, the housekeeper remained quiet. “Yes, sir.”

“I have never loved anyone in my life as I do Miss Bennet, not my sister, not my mother, not father nor my aunts or cousins”

“Yes, sir.”

“I will do all in my power to protect her. Do you understand?”

Mrs. Reynolds wondered at his statement if he meant that he was now to join many others of his station in taking a mistress; to have this young woman installed in an apartment in town, pay to have her kept that he may take his pleasure of her whenever he chose. Disappointment lined her face as the thought of him as someone who had always seemed above that sort of behavior. Indeed, even the young miss did not seem the type to stoop to be that kind of person, bur rather someone gently bred.

But if this is what the master has now become, then I cannot but obey him.

She sighed with resignation. “Yes, sir.”

Darcy frowned at seeing his housekeeper’s somber mood, but wished now to further discuss her missive from Elizabeth to glean what he did not understand. Holding it before her he asked, “I am unsure of Miss Bennet’s letter. Her words still confuse me. What are these other signs of which she requests to know? Are we not now certain? Of what is she talking?”

Mrs. Reynolds paused, her mouth open without sound, realizing she would have to give her master a lesson of a delicate matter. She took a deep breath to begin. “When a woman is with child, her courses stop. Of this you are aware?” He nodded, his cheeks flushed, his stare intense that she continue. Taking another breath she carried on. “But there are other signs that become apparent as a confinement progresses. Each woman as an individual, sir, so the signs may vary, but there are some that are most common. As she increases, her moods may be out of her normal character, or she may be sick to her stomach, usually in the mornings, or will have odd food cravings. These are but a few of the most common. There are many others that may or may not occur, sir.”

Silence ensued with Darcy blinking several times at such knowledge that seemed almost too subtle for him to glean their use for the moment. Still, he had asked and she had answered him. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. You have been most…informative to one so ill-educated in these matters. I must now make haste to protect Miss Bennet with what means are available to me.”

With trepidation of overstepping her position, but with a daring that few of his servants would brook, anticipating his reply Mrs. Reynolds asked, “What do you intend?”

The master of Pemberley gazed at the woman who had a hand in raising him, allowing her to question his actions, inwardly hoping she would approve.

“I will go to London to obtain a special license, then onward to Netherfield where I have heard tell of Bingley’s planning a return there for the hunting season. I have a task to complete there as well. Afterwards I will travel on to Longbourn to talk to Miss Bennet, if she will speak with me, and thither to her father. Depending on how I am received by either household, I know not when I shall be home before this matter is resolved.”

Mrs. Reynolds stared at him, surprised by his answer.

A special license? Speak to Miss Bennet and then her father?

Suddenly the image of the young woman as a mistress in a London apartment dissolved in the housekeeper’s mind as a water cascading into shimmering drops down a falls.

The master intends to make her an offer of marriage…again, to have her the mistress…of Pemberley!

Mrs. Reynolds swallowed at the idea that the young woman whom she had met but once, and had aided to remove scandal from this house could now be returned to a position of authority over the entire household, realizing that the vagueness of the master’s words had caused her to misconstrue his true meaning.

He had never intended anything but to honor Miss Bennet by making her his wife.

Mrs. Reynolds could not keep a small smile forming on her face as she viewed the master with renewed faith of his integrity, glad that he was different from many of his circle who found solace outside their marriage vows.

“You are an honorable man, sir, a good man.”

“No,” he said shaking his head, guilt still in the forefront of his thoughts. “Not a good man, just a man who has made a terrible mistake toward the woman I love more than life itself. If it takes my entire lifetime, I will do all that within my power to make it up to her.”

She only nodded to his statement and turned to depart the room.

“I will see to it that you clothes are packed and have the carriage readied.”

He nodded thinking of what else needed his attention before his departure. Leaving a note to his steward, he compiled a list of the correspondences that needed to be taken care of, and wrote several hastily composed missives to complete his other business ventures for the moment. He exhaled as he placed the last in the pile after sealing it with wax, thinking once more of her.

Soon, my love, I will see you soon.

Rising from his desk he made his way to the music room where he heard Georgiana’s playing. Upon reaching the door, he waited, watching his wonderful sister diligently replicating the Mozart piece that was his favorite, her fingers lightly stroking the keys to reproduce the haunting melody.

When she saw him at the door with such a pensive look on his face she stopped playing to stare at him. “Fitzwilliam, whatever is the matter? Has something happened? Tell me.” Her gentle face showed distress, wondering of something dire happening to a family member.

He sat down beside her on the bench, hugging her reassuringly, he smiled.

“I have something to relate to you before I must depart.”

“You are leaving? Where are you going?”

“I have business in London and then I have to go to Hertfordshire to speak to Bingley and then-”

“You have just decided this day that you must go to see Charles? Why?”

“Georgiana, I have done some terrible things of late.”

“Fitzwilliam, what terrible things could you have possibly done?”

Here his voice faltered at relating his transgressions to one so young who looked up to him almost as a father.

How would she view me once I tell her?

What he had done was far more grievous than her own offenses. Would Georgiana view what he and Elizabeth shared as the same as what he what had saved her from at the hands of Wickham? How could he face his own sister when he admitted such?

But Georgiana was much more astute than he knew at least in part for his need to leave. She patted his hand. “Is what you wish to tell me connected with a certain lady from that village?”

“Yes, she is the most wonderful person I have ever met. I love her with all my heart, Georgie.”

His sister’s eyes grew large at hearing such professions from her brother for the first time in her life.

She smiled. “And is she also in love with you, Fitzwilliam?”

“She said so,” he replied, thinking of his dream, but then realizing again that it had not been a dream, his eyes misted. This astonished Georgiana.

“I knew something was preying on your mind all these months, Fitzwilliam, but I never thought it was love that had so captured you.”

“You will see Elizabeth as I do, Georgie. She is everything I desire in a wife. She is…everything.”

Georgiana nodded and smiled.

“But I have done such a terrible deed that I must now go and ask her if she can ever forgive me. I have to go, Georgie.” He was trying to form the words in his mind to tell his sister what he had done, but she interrupted him with her own imperative.

“Then go, Fitzwilliam. Go get her, and bring her back that I might finally have a sister, and you might finally have a wife, that you may find the happiness you so truly deserve.”

“I must make amends to her first. I know not when I shall return.”

“My prayers will be with you, brother, that in her heart she will know you, and forgive you for whatever wrong you have done.”

Darcy hugged his little sister, at the moment wanting to believe only in her heart-felt wishes for him, relieved that she had not insisted on knowing the particulars. He hoped he would never be made to tell her.

Chapter 7

Posted on Tuesday, 14 December 2004

As he first traveled to Netherfield after departing his solicitor in London, he tried to think of how he would confess to Bingley of his interference.

I was thinking only of you.

Darcy shook his head.

That is a lie. I was not thinking merely of him, but of my involvement with Elizabeth that his relationship with her sister would exacerbate.

He exhaled.

I did wish to protect him from a loveless match, but my motives were never merely altruistic.

As the carriage neared the gates of Netherfield, Darcy had run through countless phrases to explain his behavior and came to the only means of telling his friend of his interference.

Just tell him the truth. He of all people will understand, and may one day forgive me.

The coachman opened the door, and with a deep sigh Darcy emerged to face his long time friend perhaps for the last time.

He was ushered into the parlor to await Bingley who had recently returned to the house from his early morning hunting.

How can Bingley abide coming here with the woman he loved so near? Does he yet believe there is hope?

Darcy heard movement in the hallway and rose from the chair as the door opened to admit Bingley.

“Darcy! It is good to see you again. I had lost faith of you ever returning from Pemberley. You seemed to be installed there for an eternity. Sit down, man, and tell me what brings you here. Do you fancy some sport? Or is there some other reason for your visit which, I assure you, is most welcomed.”

Bingley poured each a glass of port and both sat in the opposite chairs, sipping the fine wine. His eyes were bright with anticipation. Darcy put down the glass without even a sip and began.

“I thank you for the invitation, but no, hunting was not my purpose in coming. I have…a confession I would make you.”

“What? A confession? About what do you need to confess?”

“Of my interference with you and Miss Bennet. You have not seen her since your return?”

Bingley’s sparkle diminished at the mention of her name, and he looked into the hearth, watching the flames licking the logs.

“No, I had no wish to cause any awkwardness of my encountering her either by chance or design.”

“That is why I am come, to explain what I did to interrupt your relationship with her.”

Bingley’s eyes focused intently on Darcy now as he waited for his friend to say what he would.

“I persuaded you that Miss Bennet had no regard for you because at the time that is what I believed. Her countenance was so serene that I thought her heart had not been touched, yet I presumed Miss Bennet would obey her mother’s demands to accept your offer should you make one. I wished to keep you from a loveless match in which you would be daily miserable.”

“Yes, Darcy,” Bingley spoke testily. “I remember the conversation. How could I not with all three of you berating Miss Bennet and her family in endless succession?”

“My point in coming is to tell you I was…wrong. I now have it on good authority that she did favor you above all others of her acquaintance, and probably still does.”

“What?” Bingley had trouble in understanding his friend’s words.

“Miss Bennet favored you, Bingley, and I wrongly kept it from you.”

“You admit you were wrong?” Surprise was apparent in Bingley’s voice.

“I should never have interfered. I am terribly sorry, Bingley.” Darcy rose to depart. “I know it may take time, but I hope you can one day forgive me.”

Darcy watched as Bingley’s facial expressions ran a gamut from incredible disbelief and resentment that a most trusted friend could have betrayed him in this manner, only to soften into one of understanding as he felt that Darcy had only the best of intentions, and finally to the most radiant smile as the thought of his ‘angel’ returning his affections.

Bingley rose from his chair, his eyes bright once more. He grabbed Darcy by the arms and smiled happily at his friend.

“She loved me all the time? And you think she loves me still?” He spoke with such abandon, his smile so broad it took up his entire face. “I knew it! You and my sisters were conspiring to divert me because you all had other plans for my future?”

“Yes, that is true. I had come to suspect your sisters wished for you to make an offer to Georgiana. “

“What? She is still a child, and I have only a brotherly affection for her.”

“My motives were also tainted. Your attachment to Miss Bennet meant your being also close to-“

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Bingley smiled as he continued. “You are attracted to her, Darcy, but feel she is not high enough in society to court.” Darcy stared agape at his friend’s intuitive statement.

“Have I been so transparent that you could deduce that of me, Bingley? I tried hard not to show my true feelings.”

Bingley laughed at his friend. “Perhaps your actions fooled Caroline, but the harder you tried to find fault with Miss Elizabeth, and the haughtier you became, the more I was convinced of how desperate you were to have her.”

Darcy shook his head at Bingley, unable to fathom his perceptiveness. Bingley smiled back.

“I am one of your closest friends after all, Darcy.”

“Why then did you let me make such a fool of myself? She despised me for my behavior, and thought it was my true character. Why did you not say something to me?”

“Darcy, would you have listened? You would have thought me some lovesick fool who spouted nonsense. No, you had to go your own way to find out for yourself if she could return your affection.” Now noting his friend’s somber expression, Bingley asked, “do you think she has at all softened her regard of you that she may accept yours for her?”

“There may yet be a means to that end, Bingley. I am on my way to Longbourn now to speak with her. Would you care to join me? I may have need of your aid in arranging for a private moment.”

Bingley smiled, and practically ran from the room ordering that the horses be readied, and made haste at retrieving his hat and overcoat. Darcy joined him outside walking toward the stables.

“I have your blessing then?” asked the still more ingenuous of the two.

Darcy wondered, “Do you need my blessing?”

“Of course not,” said Bingley, his smile glistening in the sunlight. “But as one of my dearest friend, I would hope you would give it all the same.”

There was a pause before Darcy responded quietly. “Only if I have yours in return.”

Bingley’s eyes grew large in surprise. “You intend to make an offer to Miss Elizabeth?”

Darcy sighed. “We have much to discuss, but it is my hope that she will forgive me, as you have, for a far more grievous transgression.” Darcy swallowed, and Bingley could see how troubled his friend was.

“Darcy? Is there something you wish to disclose?”

Darcy shook his head. “No, not at this time, hopefully never, but I make the request of your future advice should all not go well today.”

Bingley glanced over to his friend who had been honest enough to come and admit his mistake and asked forgiveness that Bingley be given another chance to see his Jane. Bingley agreed, “You have it, Darcy. Anything I can do for you.”

“You are a good friend, Charles.”

They climbed atop their mounts, and rode them the short distance to the adjacent estate where two young ladies had no reason to expect visitors from that quarter.

Kitty was standing by the window in a state of boredom, viewing the prospect when she spied the two riders. “Look, Mama. There are two men approaching. They are coming into the drive. I believe Mr. Bingley is one of them!”

The Longbourn parlor set in a state of chaos as Mrs. Bennet and Lydia nearly stumbled over one another to join Kitty at the window watching as the two men on horseback approached the house.

“And with him is that other gentleman, you know the tall, proud one.”

Mrs. Bennet was in such a panic as she pulled the curtain aside and viewed their approach along side Kitty at the window. She was less enthusiastic at his identity.

“Mr. Darcy comes with him. Oh, but Mr. Bingley! He is come, Jane! He is come to see you! Of this I am certain.”

All the younger sisters rolled their eyes in unison at this most obvious statement that only made Jane feel more ill at ease. Blushing Jane looked over to her sister for support, noticing how very ill Elizabeth seemed at the arrival of their company.

Why does he come now?

Jane had read her letter from Aunt Gardiner which stated that whatever happened with regard to Elizabeth had begun during their visit to Pemberley. The family had been away from the estate they were assured, but knowing how her niece despised its owner, Mrs. Gardiner speculated that at least that family member had been about the premises, and some altercation had occurred between them.

Noting the continued change in Elizabeth’s demeanor, Jane speculated rather that some other occurrence had taken place between the two, and this was the dreadful incident to which Lizzy referred that day when they spoke on the path.

And now here comes the very man who played his part in it, but to what purpose?

Jane watched as Elizabeth paled as the sound of horse hooves stopped, heralding the arrival of the two gentlemen. Jane realized that there must be some kind of closure between the two.

They must talk of it, and come to some understanding. Only then would Elizabeth be unburdened by whatever sorrow she now carries.

Jane was brought from her own reverie by a voice she had never before heard, and it was coming from her sister.

“Mother, calm yourself!” Elizabeth shrilly admonished her own parent, trying to keep her own anxiety at bay.

Mrs. Bennet, however, would not be gainsaid. “Calm myself! Calm myself! Indeed, how can I calm myself when Mr. Bingley is about to enter my door again to be reacquainted with our Jane? Oh, Lizzy, how can you say such a thing? What a notion!” Elizabeth cringed.

“Yes, what was I thinking,” Elizabeth mumbled to herself only loud enough for Lydia to hear it and snort.

Mrs. Bennet was in such a heightened state, however, and ranted on, now directing her tirade at Elizabeth. “First Mr. Bingley whom we had such high hopes, leaves Netherfield with but a note that said nothing of his return, then you refuse Mr. Collins’ offer, only to be off to Hunsford in spring to visit with his wife, Charlotte Lucasto come back again unattached. Then to have your aunt and uncle take you with them to the north, and still you can find no one who would have you.”

To this last statement Elizabeth swallowed, turning a shade of green.

“All of you will be the death of me with all the fluttering of my chest and pains in my head, and beatings of my heart-”

Elizabeth could not take her mother’s ranting any longer, and jumped up heading for the door. “I think I am going to be sick.”

Jane paled as she watched her only ally departing the room in a rush.

“Well! What on earth has gotten into her?” Mrs. Bennet declared. “She has never been sick a day in her life!”

Before Mrs. Bennet could remark further or send one of the girls to attend Elizabeth, the gentlemen were announced, and all rose from their chairs.

“Mr. Bingley! How good of you to visit,” Mrs. Bennet tried to be gracious.

“How do you do, Mum,” he said cheerfully, bowing, and then glancing over at Jane who blushed. “You remember my friend, Mr. Darcy.”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet said with less enthusiasm. “I am happy to see you, Mr. Bingley, and… whomever you choose to bring.”

Darcy bowed and stared at her saying with as much civility he could muster, “I am honored you welcome me, Madam.”

Mrs. Bennet’s brows rose, surprised at his gallant gesture after having slighted her so long ago.

“Well!” she shrilled. “I am happy for your visit. Mr. Bingley, we had heard you had come back to Netherfield, no doubt for the hunting season. Sit! Sit! Mr. Bennet has quite a field of pheasant that you are most welcomed to come and shoot when you have taken all of yours.” With this she smiled, hoping he felt welcome.

“Ring for tea, Kitty,” Mrs. Bennet commanded.

Darcy was dismayed that Elizabeth was not in company of her sisters as all around him began to converse of the news in the community. His mind was only of her, however, and hoped she was not ill. He ventured toward the window, and smiled at spying her out in the gardens, pacing the paths.

Of course that would be where you would go.

He turned and gave Bingley a sign trying to convey that he ask that they all go for a walk, but Bingley was paying him no heed. Instead he had eyes only for his Jane as he continued to converse with all for Darcy the next agonizing quarter hour.

Desperate, Darcy was forced to use a time-honored method of clearing his throat loudly, getting the entire room’s attention. Now with that all eyes were upon him, he felt compelled to say something. He swallowed.

“I…I notice…it is a lovely day. Might we not all…take a stroll?” His palms began to sweat as his request hung about the room like a fog on the moor.

Great God! They are all going to ignore me.

But Bingley finally came to his senses and rose in his friend’s defense. “That is a splendid idea, Darcy. What say you? Shall we all walk toward Meryton?”

Jane too became suddenly animated. “Yes, I should like to take a stroll. Mother?”

Mrs. Bennet had her teacup midway to her mouth when Darcy had made his suggestion. She replaced her cup and replied, “Yes, that would be a lovely idea, Mr. Bingley. Mary, Kitty, Lydia, you may join them.”

Lydia was the first to respond. “Kitty and I shall go. They have some wonderful new fabrics in the window at the Wells Mercantile. Mary said they now even have a book section in the store!”

“I also say I doubted finding anything of interest to me, Lydia,” Mary unenthusiastically replied.

“You shall never know until you look,” Kitty said, hoping her sister would join them.

“Then it is settled,” Bingley said jovially. “To Meryton it is. Mrs. Bennet we shall return before the noon hour.” Mrs. Bennet chortled her little laugh.

“You are most kind to suggest the stroll…Mr. Darcy.”

He stared at her when she spoke his name, realizing it was the first sincere statement Mrs. Bennet had ever said to him. Without wishing to delay his departure, he merely bowed to her, and left the room behind the rest of the party.

Once outside, Darcy was unsure how to remove himself from the group without causing suspicion, but Jane was more aware than he knew.

“Lizzy usually takes this path through the back gardens and into the forest beyond when she has need to think.”

Darcy took her hand and kissed it, smiling at this intuitive older sister of his beloved.

“Thank you.”

“Come, ladies,” piped Bingley, herding them all before him except Jane who walked close by his side sighing, hoping for Lizzy’s sake she had done right. Bingley made sure there was space enough between the three younger sisters for he and Jane to have some privacy to converse. Placing her hand on his arm, Bingley smiled at Jane who returned it shyly. Two of the other sisters giggled and skipped along ahead, thinking they knew exactly what was going on.

Having gotten quite behind the three younger sisters, Bingley and Jane were quite without benefit of any sort of chaperone. With a glance up the lane Bingley made the sudden realization of this unexpected turn of events, and stopped Jane from advancing further. She looked into his eyes awaiting his reason of their delay, and saw him draw closer to her. His hands went about her wrists; his eyes large with anticipation.

“Miss Bennet… I have been miserable since I left Netherfield last November.”

Jane gazed at him with surprise. “You have? I do not understand why you left without…your sister’s letter to me stated of your intent not to return, and while in London she told me of your being much involved with-”

“No, I had planned on returning…but then I had been given such a disappointing account which I stupidly gave credence to instead of going to the one person who would tell me true.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You…Jane…they told me that you did not care for me…you who had already captured my heart. I thought you knew my feelings and returned them, so I did not ask you straight away as any sane man would. I was a fool. Can you ever forgive me?”

Her face lit up with a smile of happiness. She blushed as she nodded, scarcely able to raise her eyes to see him beaming with such rapture on his face.

“Jane, I love you so. I have loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you at the Assembly Ball. Say you love me too.”

“I…I…,” she was barely able to breathe. “I…do, Oh, Charles, I do. I love you. I always have. I do.”

Bingley took a deep breath. “Make me the happiest man in all of England, and agree to be my wife.”

Her sweet mouth formed an oh, not believing such happiness could befall her after so many months of longing. She could barely speak above a whisper. “yes, yes, I will marry you.”

Bingley held tighter to her hands and leaned in. Jane dropped her chin shyly and he paused to stare at her lovely face blushing now. Then Jane looked up to see his eyes so full of love for her and she smiled. His gaze moved down to her lips and she swallowed. Their eyes locked once more and both moved closer to have their lips meet in such a warm soft kiss that continued until he had taught her how to return it properly. When he finally pulled his mouth from hers both were left breathless. Jane was filled with wonder and fear at sensations never before experienced having never been kissed by any man other than her uncle or father’s gentle kisses on her forehead. This kiss was something altogether different. Her cheeks were crimson with desire and embarrassment, all at the same time. Trying to separate from standing so near him Jane realized he still had hold of her hands, squeezing tighter now that she tried to pull them away.

“Jane,” he whispered leaning down to kiss the tops of her hands. “What is it?”

“I…” She licked her dry lips. “I have never…what must you think of me?”

Bingley’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head in wonder at the lovely creature before him, smiling as broad as his face could allow. “I think you are wonderful. To allow me to kiss you in a way to let me know how much you desire to have me as your husband is a much wished for gift, Janey. I only hope you will never be disappointed in me.”

His smile was infectious as she stared into his face smiling back with such joy in her heart. “I never shall, Charles, never.”

“That is all I need know.” He took her hand and placed it gently upon his arm and smiled into her face again. “I will speak to your father when we return.”

Now hearing giggles coming from the nearby bushes, both Jane and Bingley realized that the three younger sisters had come back to the couple and were watching the whole exchange. With faces showing embarrassment and joy they made to walk again toward Meryton unable to make any reply to the three. Neither could keep from smiling with such rapture at happiness that awaited them.

Darcy made haste to the last place he had spied Elizabeth, and then hurried down the path out of the garden, and into the forest where the sun dappled into little patches between the dense foliage. He would have normally found this path equally as enjoyable as the ones at Pemberley had he not been so distracted by his quest.

Where is she? She cannot have gotten too far ahead.

His long strides took him quickly down the path, and he soon caught sight of her. He redoubled his efforts and at last came within hearing.

“Elizabeth,” he shouted and she stopped and turned to see who had called her by name. When she saw the identity of the man, she merely stood in the path, allowing him to near. But when he walked to within an arm’s reach of her, she defensively backed away. He stopped before her.

She seems so pale. I am ashamed for what I have put her through.

He panted trying to catch his breath, and merely gazed into her eyes. She waited to see who stood before her now, a mad man or a sane one.

Why is he here now? It is all too useless now.

“Miss Bennet,” he finally managed to get out. “Forgive me,” he panted out again. “I was hoping to find you alone that I may speak to you on a matter of some import.”

They simply stared at one another while he tried to calm his breathing. She then turned to walk away, her thoughts accusing him.

Why did you not come sooner? It is much too late now, and lest word of this getting out, I will have to leave everything I have ever known to keep this scandal from my family.

“I have nothing to say to you. And you could have nothing of importance to say to me.”

He paused for only a few seconds before asking, “Do you wish me then to go to your father first to ask for your hand?”

This stopped her and she turned around to face him as he continued.

“I had thought you a dream, but you were truly with me there at Pemberley. I…took advantage of you, for which I am wretchedly sorry, and wish now to make amends, to make it right by you.”

Her eyes narrowed and her voice came out hard. “You wish to make it right by me?”

I fear it is too late now.

Then her voice faltered, and the rest came out in a whisper. “You can never make it right.”

“Please, Elizabeth,” he whispered nearing her. “You know my feelings for you. They have not changed.”

She couldn’t resist, barely keeping from breaking down. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, we have been married for…how many years?”

Gazing into her eyes now so filled with pain, he nodded.

“Allow me to explain.”

She stood before him wanting nothing more than to leave him that she not hear his reasons for such a delusion that she had played a part, but the look of regret in his eyes gave her pause, and she stood awaiting his words.

“Shortly after you left Hunsford, when I knew I had lost you forever…my mind could not accept your refusal, preying on my every waking thought until even my nights were affected. After weeks of near sleeplessness that threatened my sanity I found but one way to survive. The few hours of sleep I was permitted were filled with dreams of you, of us happily wed with children and a home. But each morning when I awoke to find it had only been a dream that loneliness was insufferable. In daylight I somehow found the ability to tolerate it but the nights were unbearable during those dark months. I roamed the hallways unable to sleep, drinking more heavily to dull the ache, to aid me reach the only solace I had…of you in my dreams. Only there could I see you, be with you, be happy knowing you returned my affections. Our live there was one of a blissful family.” He swallowed before continuing. “And unlike imaginings during the day, these dreams came only at night where I had no control over their progression.”

Elizabeth was confused. “But at Pemberley-”

“When I saw you there, I swear by all that is holy, I thought I was beside the lake asleep, somehow having a dream of…my wife.”

She stared at this man and his incredulous tale. Knowing that men in general and this man in particular would never swear to something unless they felt a strong commitment of its certainty, she felt that what he said he believed without doubt. She swallowed and merely nodded taking him at his word.

Darcy gently took her arm and coaxed her to a fallen log along the path to have her sit silently now staring at her hands in her lap. After pausing, standing before her, he removed his hat, placing it beside her, he stooped down that he not appear so imposing and took her hands in his before he spoke again.

“My delusion can explain my actions, but yours are quite beyond my understanding. Why did you allow me to kiss you so ardently when inside the house? Why did you not say something to me then, instead of allowing me to embrace you?”

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. He waited for her to begin.

“I…was unaware of your delusion at that time. I thought you were… proposing again…this lapse in your conduct due to your being within your own domain to feel freer to express your…wishes towards me.”

“And your allowing me to take such liberties meant you would have accepted my offer?”

“Yes, I had finally come to terms with what you had said at Hunsford, realizing your logical assessment of the entirety of the situation regarding my family…that you must have forgiven me for all I spoke then, and that you now loved me.”

“I have never stopped loving you, Elizabeth.”

“You were…very persuasive in your tender regard. Truly I thought it would not go beyond kissing! As you continued, I…everything descended upon me all at once, my feelings upon entering Pemberley, the walls of the room that were so soothing, your love for me in such gentleness.” She gasped. “and I felt my heart bind itself to yours as though now one, never more to be parted …I gave you leave to continue…I…even though I knew it was wrong…I thought of no one…but you.”

She swallowed and looked down at her hands, her eyes misting as she thought of her behavior of that time. He gently squeezed her hands as he held them, allowing her time to compose herself before they continued.

“Elizabeth.” She looked at him. “I believe that though in a deluded state I would never force myself even upon my wife if she did not wish it.”

She cast her eyes down unable to meet his gaze as she realized she had at that point done nothing to stop him, and had rather encouraged him. “I chose. …I consented.”

“Then you smiled, and I thought…”

“That was when…then…I…knew at last what it meant to be one with you. It was so…so…”

He sighed aloud, “wonderful.”

Pursing her lips, she nodded closing her eyes, reliving that feeling.

“That is what I felt too.” He paused before adding, “that is how it is suppose to be, Elizabeth. You gave me such joy.”

She only nodded again, his statement confirming what Mrs. Reynolds had told her.

After some moments he asked, “But why then did you leave? You said you thought I was renewing my addresses to you. Even if we had such a transgression, you must have known that we would have been soon married afterwards.” She stared at him and shook her head.

“When you fell asleep, calling me your wife, and talking of already existing children, I began to remember all you had said, and knew then that you were deluded. I realized then that I might have been mistaken about your tender renewals…that your true reason for leading me to the room… perhaps was that you thought I was already your wife and…mother to your children…already knew about…” She had to take a deep breath in order to continue.

“How would it have looked for you to awaken still believing that I was your wife with none of the household included in your delusion? I would have been found out. Had you remained in your delusion I knew I would never have been allowed to marry you.”

Trying not to cry she did not look at him as she told him of her other thoughts. “Then I wondered if perhaps when you awoke sane to find us thus, you might think I had used my charms to have us both in such a state with the express desire of forcing you into a marriage you did not wish. And I felt you would be within your rights to refuse me, and have me sent away with your entire household as witness. Whichever scheme unfolded, my life and my family’s reputation would be ruined.”

She shook her head. “I saw no other way out of the dilemma than to agree to Mrs. Reynolds’s plan of secrecy…but I could not accept the draught that… so I waited the entire time hoping I would not be…” She swallowed. “…had not become…was not…” She made no further attempts at finishing her sentence that caused her such anguish. He gently squeezed her hand.

“Had I been certain that I was, I had already planned to quietly remove myself from Longbourn to my aunt and uncle’s residence in Cheapside on some pretense so as not to scandalize my family. Uncle Edward would have taken me in, and would have gleaned some plan to keep the birth from public scrutiny.”

She tried to smile and tease. “So you see it was all planned out even for that eventuality.”

The gentle touch of his hand raised her chin as he gazed into her misting eyes. “My regrets are many, Elizabeth, for taking such advantage of you in my deluded state, for having caused you such anguish and suffering, for not knowing to come to you sooner. But for having made love to you…” He looked directly in her eyes. “May God forgive me, but I will never regret that.” She sighed. “You must know by now that my desire to marry you is not based on your present state, but because I wish it so with all my heart.”

“What?”

“Mrs. Reynolds allowed me to see your note. I must say I doubt anyone could have deciphered of what you were talking. But she knew as did I. Elizabeth, I will talk to your father today and have us married by the week’s end.

“I thank you, but I am still unsure if there is a need of so sudden a decision. I have not felt any other changes that lead me to believe I am…”

“Have you not yet received a letter from Mrs. Reynolds as to the other signs of which you should be aware?”

“No, no such missive has yet to arrive.”

“She told me of the most commons signs as being changes in mood, stomach sickness in the morning, and odd food cravings?”

Darcy saw Elizabeth pale at his mentioning of those signs.

“Elizabeth? Tell me.”

“I…was very harsh with my mother awhile ago, so unlike my normal behavior…and I became sick just before you arrived, but thought it merely due to the strain of having to talk to you.” She looked up to him hoping he would agree.

“Do you recall having been harsh or sick under other stressful circumstances?”

She shook her head and frowned. Rising then to sit beside her, Darcy pulled her into a warm embrace without any resistance from her. Cradling her head beneath his chin, he felt her soft warmth next to his chest, more determined in his resolve. They were silent for a time.

“I think I need to speak to your father, Elizabeth, to have the ceremony performed as soon as may be.”

“Must we tell him everything? He shall be so disappointed in me.”

“Not so much as will be his outrage towards me after I disclose how I am solely to blame for this.”

“But it was I who chose not to stop. I would not wish him to think so poorly of you. Can we not simply say we wish to marry?”

“I would not want to deceive your father, Lizzy, when time may be of the essence. Would you?”

“No,” she whispered, resigned but disconcerted. “He should know of it so he will also know how you have chosen to stand by me.”

“Come. Let us have this be done with.”

He helped her stand and held her hand as they began their journey back to Longbourn, intent on relating to her father what happened at Pemberley. Her pace was slow as she imagined his reaction to such alarming news of one of hisolder daughters in which he had such faith for the others to emulate. At this moment she both loved and dreaded her father, tightening her hold on the only thing that would keep her steady now, Darcy’s hand. He returned the squeeze.

I am grateful that he appears as strong as the ancient oaks in the forests of Pemberley, for I shall need such support when I face my father.

They had not gone far when she stopped in mid-stride as she felt something happening. She winced in pain as the first cramp came, followed by several others in quick succession, leaving her breathless. Her face was pale as she felt the beginnings of what had finally come.

Without regard to propriety Darcy lifted her up and carried her to the nearest bench along the path toward the back yard of Longbourn. Sitting down with her on his lap, secure in his arms, his hand caressed her cheek. His concern was apparent on his face as he watched hers contort in pain.

No, please, I cannot bear to see you in such pain!

Remembering the flask of brandy in his coat pocket, the method he had once used to dull his own pain, Darcy uncorked it and put it to her mouth, making her take several large sips of the warm liquid before she pushed it away, not wanting more. But at his insistence Elizabeth drank more until the amount she swallowed had the desired result. Her slight weight and empty stomach quickly allowed her to succumb to the alcohol’s effects of inebriation along with the diminishing of her pains.

After watching her some moments he asked, “How do you feel now?”

“Better.(hic)” She realized her pains had stopped completely now along with her diminished capacity to think or even speak coherently. Through her intoxicated haze she watched as he corked the flask and replaced it once more in his coat pocket. She asked trying to form her words with difficulty, “Do you…do you still…im(hic)bibe to drown your sorrows?”

“No, I haven’t taken a drop since you left Pemberley. I keep this with me more as a reminder to myself of just how degraded I would have become…but for you.”

She nodded, closing her eyes to keep the trees from spinning, but realized at once that only made it worse. Opening her eyes she tried to focus on some thought, the only one that came to mind was of what had happened as they walked, and she felt certain that her courses had started.

I will be uncomfortable for a while, and in a few days time I will be myself again.(hic)

Neither found the need to speak, and she merely allowed him to hold her. Gazing into her eyes he realized what she was thinking, that what she had hoped for had come at last. Then he saw such a sadness entered into them as she thought of what was not to be, and he knew all the alcohol in the world would not suppress her sorrow as she began to sob.

Cradling her in his arms, he gave her the time to grieve over the path in life that would now not be taken at this time, his own thoughts mirroring hers.

She would have been just like you, Lizzy.

Closing his own eyes, Darcy envisioned a small child with dark bouncing curls running about the gardens of Pemberley chasing after younger brothers and sisters. In his mind he knew this was probably for the best, but found his heart was saddened at this turn of events.

Looking down at Elizabeth’s face, sharing her sorrow, he kissed each tear stained cheek until she had exhausted her crying for the moment. Gently dabbing her face with his handkerchief his voice was soft and calm in her ear. “I will speak to your father when you feel strong enough to return.”

“There is no need now. I am not…(hic)” He watched as she tried to sober.

“No?” he whispered, kissing her gently, “are we sure of anything yet?”

She shook her head once before realizing that mistake watching the tree spin once more. She took several deep breaths before she could speak. “No, not without doubt.”

Looking into her eyes he said, “then until we are certain, you will take to your bed-”

“No, (hic)everyone will know-”

“that you are unwell, nothing more.”

“Do I look unwell to you?(hic)”

He smiled. “No, just pale, but after I discuss all with your father he will agree that you should remain at rest until a doctor has seen you.”

“But I am no longer…not even truly sure I ever was…I felt my pains begin.(hic)”

“Do you feel them still?”

“No, they have stopped.”

He frowned in his ignorance. “Is that…normal?”

“(hic)No, they usually continue throughout the day once begun. Do you think…?”

“I have no knowledge of these matters, but I felt certain you were or soon would be…with child when you left Pemberley, and I would not wish for you to take any risks if that be the case.”

“And if it not be?(hic)”

He smiled knowing she was still quite drunk, but kissed her lips most ardently to leave her in no doubt of his true feelings on the matter. “then I wish…to have you so very soon.”

She could not help herself but to ask, “You would still marry me?”

She heard his soft laugh at her naiveté.

“In my dream you are already my wife.”

He kissed her lips softly at first, but could not help himself to deepen it until they were both breathless. He knew then he could never live without her.

“End my misery, Elizabeth. Marry me. Become that sweet wife of my dream.” He saw her eyes sparkle as she smiled and nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered, at last releasing all her anxiety, freeing her heart to feel all its admiration of the one who held her in his arms, knowing he would be her sanctuary for all time to come.

Oh, how I love this man.(hic)

They both remained seated watching the day deepen. He held her against his chest, both content to wait until she was rested and sober enough for them to return to Longbourn.

Just as both could have predicted, the household was in uproar when Darcy neared the house carrying Elizabeth contently in his arms. Even without the included confusion of the other sisters who were still about their walk into Meryton, Mrs. Bennet shrieking “Hill, Ohhhhhh, Hill!” could be heard throughout the house as she waved her kerchief about, wondering what on earth had befallen her daughter, letters from the express rider now falling from her hands. Darcy acted every bit a master ordering the maid to show him to Elizabeth’s room and for Mrs. Bennet to send for a physician, and no, not the apothecary!

Taking the stairs quickly, the maid had barely opened the door before Darcy entered and gently laid Elizabeth upon the bed, and looked at her severely when she began to sit up.

“Keep still, or must I force you to stay put?”

Elizabeth started to say something, but with the maid still in the room thought better of it, and the best she could do was glare at him.

Having won this skirmish, Darcy kissed her hand and turned to leave, but not before he pointed to the maid and ordered, “You will make sure she stays to her bed until the doctor arrives, Miss…?”

“ Betty, sir,” she peeped curtseying quickly.

“I will not have her harming herself further; do you hear me, Betty?”

“Oh, no sir! I mean…yes, sir. I mean…I will see she stays abed even if I have to tie her to it!”

“(hic)Betty!” shouted Elizabeth unable to comprehend this treason from her own maid.

“I’m sorry, Miss Elizabeth, but he has such fierce eyes. I don’t want him angry at me for disobeying him.”

Darcy turned back to Elizabeth with a smirk and replied, “she comes with you.”

Elizabeth could do nothing but stare astonished as he departed the room, and made to rise from the bed to continue the conversation. But Betty pushed her back upon it and held her down by the shoulders. Elizabeth looked up at Betty astounded that her maid had hold of her as though a child. “Just stay quiet, Miss Elizabeth, and everything will be fine soon.”

The audacity shown by this young girl at obeying the wishes of someone other than family member while not knowing any of the circumstances made Elizabeth relax against the pillows and laugh at the absurdity. When Betty smelled Elizabeth’s breath, her eyes grew large with total surprise, wondering what the young miss had been up to, but dutifully refrained from asking.

When Darcy reached the landing he saw the grim face of Mr. Bennet, watching the young man return from above stairs. Lured from his library by his wife’s shrieking that could still be heard from down the hallway, Mr. Bennet raised his brows awaiting an explanation.

As Darcy alit the last stair without yet formulating a reply he heard, “Mr. Darcy, I require a moment of your time, if you will oblige me.” Darcy knew it to be a summons and not a request.

Continued In Next Section