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Chapter Six

Posted on Monday, 6 March 2006

“This is truly delicious, Juliana,” said Fennimore. “Thank you for taking the trouble to make it.” He was chewing with some difficulty on the other side of his mouth, but enjoying the sumptuous meal all the same.

“Well, at least that brute was good for something,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “I didn’t have to do anything more to tenderize it. He pounded it well enough with his thick skull.”

She giggled, then stifled her laughter at the sight of her brother’s reproachful look.

“Juliana, you hurt him very badly. He is in terrible pain.”

“It was no more than he deserved, striking you like that! Do you think he regrets, for one moment, almost breaking your jaw? It is a miracle that you didn’t lose any teeth, Simon!”

“But he used only his fist, Juliana, while you swung at him with a five pound weight! It is not the same!”

“I took no unfair advantage,” she retorted. “He was twice my size and an army officer trained in battle. I was simply clever enough to use what was at hand.” She smiled, obviously proud of herself.

“Nevertheless,” said Fennimore, shaking his head in frustration. “This has to stop, Juliana. I am no longer a little boy being bullied by some ruffians behind the rectory. I am a man, and you must allow me to deal with such men in my own way!”

“But you make no effort to defend yourself, Simon. I know you don’t believe in fighting, but you cannot let such people abuse you and do nothing about it!”

“So you intend to walk ten steps behind me for the rest of your life and spring upon anyone who dares argue with me? My darling sister, you have always been my most steadfast defender and my best friend, but for both our sakes, you must think of how these incidents are perceived by the world. You are a beautiful young lady and…”

“So now we come to the heart of it,” she said, growing angry. “My behavior is unladylike and reflects badly on you. Well, I am sorry to have embarrassed you, dear brother. In the future, I shall endeavor to remember my place in society and act like the demure little creature you wish me to be!”

“Julie, the drama is unnecessary. You know full well that is not what I mean. You could never embarrass me…but the truth is that I feel diminished when you continually come to my rescue—as if you believe me incapable of dealing with life’s little battles. Yes, I may get bruised or lose a tooth, as every man does now and then, but I may also come out ahead in the end, as I manage to talk my way out of most confrontations. And as for you…it is time you made some difficult decisions, my darling girl.”

She threw back her head, tossing her curls with her usual air of indifference. Wishing to avoid such conversations, she always made light of them.

“What difficult decisions can I possibly have to make? I am young, clever, very beautiful—or so my elder brother tells me—and most importantly, I am well provided for. My life is perfect just as it is.”

“Julie,” he said tenderly, taking both her hands in his and drawing her over to the well-worn settee. “Be serious for once. You must make yourself look at your problems in the light of day, or you shall wake up one morning and find that father has married you off to some wealthy, middle-aged man with false teeth and a house in the country.”

She tried to pull free of him, but he would not let her go. “I must clear away the dishes,” she insisted, avoiding his gaze.

“Juliana, I don’t need to live at home to know that mother and father are desperately trying to make a match for you. You must face it and try to find someone of your own choosing before you are forced into some dreadful match and a lifetime of misery. You are no longer a girl of fifteen, with years and years ahead of you.”

“You need not remind me of my age, Simon. I am well aware that being twenty-six and unwed is pitiable. But I do not understand why I must marry at all! I am perfectly content. I have a comfortable home, all the diversions I require and you to love and care for. Why can I not continue in this way? Why can they not let me be?” she said with tears now filling her eyes.

“But that is precisely why you must take your life into your own hands and make your own decisions. The time is come. You must ask yourself what you really want out of life. If you truly wish to remain unattached, I shall faithfully support you in that decision. But you must be certain that it is what you truly want.”

“But what do my feelings signify in any case? Have you not heard? Juliana Fennimore may be wealthy and accomplished, but she is a wild, difficult creature. She will not be a quiet, dutiful wife! She may prove too hard to handle to be worth the trouble.”

“Yes, I have heard that,” said Fennimore, grinning. “And it is exactly what you wish them all to believe.”

“Well, all the men I meet seem to think that by taking a wealthy young woman off her father’s hands, they earn themselves the right to a life of idleness and amusement. Their wife’s inheritance will supply them with all the capital necessary for gaming, drinking and keeping a mistress! You have had your inheritance snatched away from you, Simon, and I will not let some undeserving, egotistical, good-for-nothing man dwindle away mine. I have better uses for it!”

“Like supporting my research, no doubt.”

She blushed and said nothing. He knew her too well.

“Juliana, you cannot sacrifice your own life for mine. You cannot set aside your inheritance for me and deny yourself the happiness it may bring you.”

“It was once your inheritance, Simon!”

“That is no longer important. It is bad enough that you share your pin money with me, conspire with cook to keep me fed and supply me with life’s little necessities each time you come. You know how grateful I am for all your love and support, and I pray that we shall always be as close and dear to each other as we are now, but we must each seek our own happiness and build our own lives. Then we will have so much more to share with one another.”

“Simon!” she now cried with the sudden realization of what his words had implied. “Is there something you’ve been keeping from me? Have you met someone? Is this what all this is about?”

“No, of course not! Well, what I mean to say is that…I have begun to see the possibility of a different sort of life for myself…one that would include…a wife, perhaps. But none of that is possible now; you know I have no way of supporting her.”

The look on Juliana’s face made him blush. They had always been so close, had shared everything, and here he was admitting that he had fallen in love and had kept it from her.

Juliana gasped, then giggled and sat down again. “So, there is someone. Someone important.”

“Yes, but she does not even know the depths of my feelings for her, and it may be years before I can even approach her with a proposal...Just listen to me!” he said shaking his head and laughing. “I’m talking as if she would actually have me…and wait for me to earn a decent living! It is probably all smoke and dreams anyway, but the point is that I now know there is a life for me outside the laboratory. I had never even contemplated that before. And there is a better life awaiting you, my dear sister, if you would only seek it out. Don’t let our parents make this important decision for you. You need a husband you can truly love and admire! I know your tender heart and generous nature. You were not meant to be alone, Juliana. You are passionate and caring and hungry for life. And I know how much you adore children! Those are the things you should be striving for!”

“But I cannot find him!” she shouted, throwing up her hands in dismay. “He does not frequent Mrs. Abernathy’s card parties or the Billingsleys’ soirees! Or if he does, I do not recognize him. The only men I meet are pompous, ignorant fools who…”

”Surely, I am not the only clever and affectionate man in London, Juliana. And furthermore, when was the last time you actually accepted one of these invitations?”

“Oh Simon, you know I cannot bear them—the ridiculous small talk, the insincere compliments, the whispered remarks when one enters the room. This would be my seventh season, Simon. It is humiliating.”

“That may be true, my love, but you cannot give up. If father makes another match for you and you reject it once again, he will cast you off to Aunt Helen’s in the country, and then where will we be? You know it is for my sake alone that I ask you to persevere, my love,” he said, grinning and lifting her chin to kiss her brow. “I cannot bear to have you so far away from me.”

“I shall try—for your sake, then,” she said with a sweet, teasing smile. “You must, however, now tell me all about this remarkable woman. How wonderful she must be to have won your heart, dear Simon. I cannot wait to meet her.”

“I cannot tell you much about her or introduce you, just yet. She is in the midst of some unpleasantness with her own family, and has asked me to be discreet. So I beg you not to press me, Julie, but to be patient. It is for this reason alone that I have kept all knowledge of her from you. I cannot fail her, or she will never trust me.”

After three days under Dr. Morrison’s care, Richard Fitzwilliam was released to the care of his cousins. The jolting ride home was an agony, with the Colonel’s equilibrium affecting his stomach as well as his head. James was obliged to pull to the side of the road on two occasions so as not to dirty the coach. When finally settled in his bed and medicated again, the Colonel slept fitfully for a few hours, soaking the bedding with perspiration.

Whenever he awoke, he saw through a feverish haze the faces of either Elizabeth or Georgiana, as they soothed his brow with cool, wet cloths or helped him to take some liquid sustenance. Broths and puddings of every kind were being urged down his throat, but he could take no more than two or three spoonfuls. He was in constant pain, despite the laudanum, and utterly exhausted by it.

It was Elizabeth’s cool hand on his brow and her comforting words that sustained him. It seemed she did not hate him for his interference after all—or at least, she had forgiven him. Surely she could not be caring for him so tenderly were she still angry. He thought of the two women who had been responsible for putting him in this pitiful condition. Elizabeth could not be blamed for his need to meddle into her affairs, and the other…well, he certainly could not explain his interest in her. He saw her now, as if in a dream, her eyes flashing, her face flushed with rage. Yet now, as then, he wanted only to stop the barrage of angry words by covering her mouth with his own. Was he mad? The woman was a menace! Though the most bewitching one he ever beheld. Of course, she was already taken! Fennimore! Curse the man! He had become the source of all his misery.

Any movement, no matter how slight, caused pain and often nausea, and so he lay as still as possible, his eyes shut to escape the light. He could easily sense who sat beside him by the sound of their breathing, a telltale fragrance, perhaps, or the obvious tranquility or impatience with which they waited. Elizabeth was always the most calm of his visitors—hardly ever shifting about in her chair or fidgeting with one thing or another.

He should have felt embarrassed to be in her presence after spying on her and getting himself into such a troublesome fix. But her company quieted him. Indeed, he found it very comforting. How much Dr. Morrison had disclosed about the altercation or who his assailant had been, he did not know. And so, it was only Elizabeth to whom he could speak without the fear of revealing too much.

On his third day at Grosvenor Square he was feeling a bit more human when Elizabeth brought in his lunch tray and came to sit beside him. His cousin’s valet, who had been given the unenviable task of seeing to his physical needs, had just left him somewhat refreshed and presentable. He managed an awkward smile in Elizabeth’s direction.

“You are being far too good to me, Elizabeth—I hope you don’t feel it a cruel obligation after our last conversation. But you must know how appreciative I am for your kindness and how much I value your company.”

“Richard, dear Richard! I feel I am to blame for all your terrible suffering! I should never have tried to hide the truth from you; it was ridiculous to do so! “

He opened his mouth to respond, but she continued on hastily. “Please, Richard, allow me to say what we both know to be true. You were only being loyal to Fitzwilliam when you went back to Crestwood Lane, and I assume that it was there that the clash occurred.”

“Did Dr. Morrison not tell you?” he asked incredulously.

“He said only that you were brought to his surgery in a hansom cab by a young man. That man remains nameless, but I imagine it must have been Simon Fennimore. Am I right?”

The Colonel nodded and looked away. So his being outmaneuvered and wounded by a woman was yet a secret. Elizabeth obviously assumed that Fennimore had done the deed, and more importantly, Fitzwilliam knew nothing of the entire affair. What could he possibly say to Elizabeth?

He need not have fretted; Elizabeth now did all the talking.

“Richard,” she began anxiously, “you must know that Fitzwilliam and Edward are everything to me—that my happiness and well being depend solely on theirs. I would no more injure them than set myself aflame! I need you to believe that my reasons for going to Crestwood Lane are innocent—for they truly are. Unfortunately, I cannot divulge my reasons for going there just now. I am caught in a wretched situation. I know what I am doing seems improper, and that keeping it from Fitzwilliam certainly is…but I have no choice. You must believe that. The secret I must keep for the present will not have to be kept forever, and when the time comes that I can explain it all, I know you will acquit me of any wrongdoing. Please trust me! Please keep this our secret until that time. Fitzwilliam would be so hurt if he knew I was deceiving him…but I must for now. Please, my dearest friend.”

She looked at him so beseechingly that he could not help but give her a consenting nod. He wanted to believe her more than anything. He longed for the peace and tranquility he had always known in this house, for the verification that such love did exist in the world and that it was attainable and lasting. Most of all, he couldn’t bear thinking ill of her.

Bending to kiss his brow with the most heartfelt affection, she murmured, “You shall never regret your faith in me, Richard. It will be months yet before you can know my secret, but you shall know it. I promise.”

“Do come in, Miss Burton,” said Simon Fennimore beaming as he opened the door to let her in. “I hope you are well; you certainly look well.”

Anne startled on first seeing him, but tried to hide her alarm. His face was frightfully discolored and still somewhat swollen.

In his enthusiasm to see her, he had quite forgotten his appearance. And as he no longer felt any pain, he had resolved to put the incident behind him. However, one look at her expression told him he would have to come up with some sort of reasonable explanation in a great hurry.

“Ah yes, I’d quite forgotten. I don’t pose a very pretty picture; do I? I’m afraid I met with a little accident, Miss Burton. I stumbled and hit my jaw against some furniture. No real harm was done except to my ego—clumsy fool that I am. It looks far worse than it is, I assure you, so please don’t look so alarmed. Though, I would certainly understand your desire to look in the other direction.”

“Oh no! I was just taken aback for a moment; forgive me. You must have received a terrible blow! Are you sure that you are quite well? I need not inconvenience you just now if you prefer to rest.”

“What, and deny me the pleasure of seeing you looking so well?”

“Thank you, sir. Thanks to you, I am feeling much stronger,” she answered, trying not to stare. “Hopefully, the results of your examination will concur with my feelings.”

“Actually, Miss Burton, I don’t know that I shall be examining you today. For one thing, Mrs. Darcy is not here.”

“Oh, I see. I suppose she is just a bit delayed; otherwise she would have sent word. Can we wait for her … are you pressed for time? I would not keep you if you were…”

“No, Miss Burton, the next hour is reserved for you, as always, but I’m afraid that Mrs. Darcy will not be coming…You see, she came to see me a few days ago with what I fear will be a somewhat distressing message for you. She believes it is no longer safe to be seen in the neighborhood and therefore felt it best to stay away. She regrets not being able to tell you this herself.”

“Oh…,” said Anne softly, stunned at this sudden turn of events. Her mind reeled with images of the possible scenarios that might have prompted such a decision. What could have happened to frighten Elizabeth into such cautious behavior? Anne thoughts turned inward, and she barely heard what Dr. Fennimore said next.

“Besides, I have felt for some time that there is no longer any justification for a weekly examination. You have been a model patient and are so much improved that I am not at all anxious about turning your care over to another physician. I’ve taken the liberty of writing down the names of a several men that I trust and admire, so you can…”

“You no longer wish to see me?” she said, looking up abruptly. As the meaning of his words registered in her brain, she felt suddenly abandoned and utterly bewildered as to the reason for it. “You wish me to go elsewhere…to find another doctor?”

“Well, yes, Miss Burton, actually I do. You see, I have long felt the impropriety of our situation, and as you no longer need my particular specialization, I thought it best to recommend a…”

“Yes, of course, I understand,” she said, hastily retying her bonnet and getting ready to take her leave. “You have been very kind and generous with your time, Dr. Fennimore, and I thank you with all my heart for all you have done for me. But I shall trouble you no more. You have far more important work to do.” Saying this, she made for the door, wishing to escape as fast as possible. She had entered nearly bursting with joy to see him again and now…their relationship was suddenly at an end!

She fumbled with the doorknob, and unable to turn it, found herself in a panic. Her heart beat wildly, her breath faltered. She had to make her escape before she embarrassed herself completely!

In a heartbeat his hand clasped hers on the knob, his body blocking her way. He spoke her name over and over again until she was forced to acknowledge him, her eyes brimming and not daring to focus on his.

“Anne… Anne-Marie, stop. Look at me! You’ve got it all wrong. You’ve misunderstood…but then how could I expect you to understand? Please give me a chance to explain,” he said, looking at her with great tenderness.

“I only wish to put an end to this professional relationship with you in order to nurture a far more personal one. I cannot continue being your doctor feeling about you the way I do.” His smile was warm, yet uncertain, as he looked to her for some encouragement. She lifted her eyes to him in wonder, her lips parting involuntarily in amazement.

“It is improper of me to examine you when I deliberately take twice as long as is necessary to listen to your heart just so that I can remain close to you. And it does not take a full five minutes to take your pulse or to look into your throat! I find myself taking liberties that have nothing to do with good medicine—taking advantage of my position as your physician as I have accused others of doing. That is why I must send you to someone else.”

The blush of his cheek was the most beautiful thing Anne had ever beheld. She bit her lip to keep from weeping.

“I hope I have not been too presumptuous in speaking to you this way, Miss Burton. I can only hope that you have developed some tender feelings towards me—ones that you can separate from your gratitude to me as your doctor.”

She could not answer immediately. Her emotions, having been thrown so violently from one extreme to another, were threatening to pour forth in sobs of joy. She pressed her fingers to her lips to hold them back, but the floodgates of her eyes had already yielded. He moved closer to support her, gently laying his hands on both her shoulders.

“Please tell me those are tears of joy, Miss Burton. I could not bear to have upset you, otherwise.”

“I never believed it possible! I would not have allowed myself to dream…” she began. “But of course, they are tears of joy! I have loved you for so long, Simon…oh dear,” she said turning her face away in embarrassment, “a lady isn’t supposed to admit that so readily, is she? Forgive me, I…”

“Forgive you? Miss Burton, Anne-Marie! I could not have hoped for a more wonderful response! You have had my heart for so many months now, and although I thought I believed an attachment was growing between us, I could not be certain that it was not wishful thinking on my part. How happy you have made me, Anne-Marie—how incredibly happy.”

His left hand traveled down to the small of her back to draw her near, while his right caressed her cheeks and wiped away her tears. Inching his face ever closer to hers, he smiled tenderly at her as he patiently waited for her to regain her composure. Only when he saw her bashfully eyeing his lips, did he bend to kiss her. The kiss was a gentle, hesitant one, until, pulling back to gauge her response, he pressed his lips to hers once more for the kind of kiss he so longed to give her. They wept and laughed together, kissing each other again and again, clinging to each other with unreserved fervor. Anne, who had for so long been denied any form of physical affection, could barely restrain herself. She hugged her beloved to her with all her strength, stroking his hair, his back, his face. If this was only a dream she would make the most of it while it lasted. How she loved him…this wonderful, beautiful man!

Holding her firmly to his chest, he finally whispered, “If we remain this way much longer, Anne-Marie, I don’t know that I will find the strength for self-restraint. Come, let us go to the sweet shop and celebrate with a bite to eat.”

“Oh yes! Good gracious! I can’t believe how I have been behaving! What must you think of me, Simon? It is just…”

“That you love me?” He completed her thought, laughing heartily. “You could not have made me happier, my sweet girl. And you must never speak of shame and your feelings for me in the same breath. Your affection is more than I dared hope for!”

Taking her by the hand, he led her out the back door.

They had sat in silence for some time, eyeing each other shyly while sharing a sweet—their smiles and blushes saying so much more than words could ever express. Though the formal words had not yet been spoken, there was an understanding between them. They belonged to one another. It had been settled with their first embrace.

“Anne-Marie,” he said softly, “is there no one in your family of whom I could ask permission to court you?”

“To court me?” she said incredulously, not taking the trouble to hide her surprise.

“Well, I have no right to ask for your hand just yet. I have nothing to offer you, after all, no way of supporting you. And I’m afraid, even once we do make it public, ours will have to be a rather long engagement. I plan to see Dr. Morrison tomorrow for a position in his practice for he has been encouraging me to join him for some time now. You must understand that I will never be able to give you the kind of life you deserve, my dearest Anne-Marie, but if you will have me, I shall try to make up for it with my love for you.”

“But your research, your work—you cannot abandon it!”

“No, I shall never do that, but I will have to devote less time to it. I shall have to make do with evenings and Sunday afternoons and…”

“And when do you propose to rest, dear Simon?”

“I shall manage it; you wait and see. A man in love can perform miracles!” he laughed.

Both fell silent as they stared down at their interlaced fingers.

“Simon,” Anne whispered, lifting her gaze to his, “there is something I must tell you about myself. For when the time comes, I cannot have you asking for the hand of the wrong woman. My name isn’t Anne-Marie…It is simply Anne. I hope you understand my reasons for deceiving you; it was necessary for me to hide my identity.”

“I thought as much,” said Fennimore, grinning at her affectionately. “But am I not to know your family name as well? Or am I not yet to be fully trusted?” he chuckled.

“I would rather keep it secret for a little while longer; but not for the reasons you might imagine. I…I want you to think of me as you always have—to love me for the woman you believe me to be. In any case, I’ve left my family home for now and may never be allowed there again.”

“Oh dear,” he said with a teasing grin. ”I’ve fallen in love with the woman of mystery. Are you next in line to the throne or perhaps the granddaughter of the Earl of Wessex? Do you think you’ll frighten me away if I find out that you are a fine lady, my dearest Anne? I’m afraid I have known that all along. I come from respectable stock myself, I’ll have you know. My family is held in very high esteem and is worth…a great deal of money.”

He saw her eyes widen in surprise and continued. “What a fine pair we make, you and I. You have fled your home and I have been thrown out of mine. I’m sorry, Anne,” he now said, suddenly grave, “but I have been both disinherited and disowned. Had I been a more obedient son, I would have been able to offer you the world.”

“My world has never been as rich or as beautiful as it is today, dear Simon. I have lived, I will admit, with great luxury all my life and it has never made me happy. Your love, your affectionate attention is all I need. We will find a way to live comfortably, I am sure…but you must not neglect your research, and you must let me see this personal undertaking to its end. It means a great deal to me.”

She withheld the fact that their financial future and their ability to plan a more timely wedding rested on the fifteen thousand pounds she had yet to make her own. This would remain her secret…for if she failed, she would be disappointed enough for the two of them.

“Your struggles, your burdens I now take upon my shoulders, Anne, and I promise to do everything in my power to help and support you. If we could afford to marry now I might argue with you and say that we should face these troubles openly…together as a couple; but I cannot. So, I am yours to command. What would you have me do?”

“Nothing, nothing other than what you have been doing all along. Pretend you have never heard of Anne de Bourgh,” she now said, knowing that her rank and former wealth would not intimidate him. “And if at all possible, keep your acquaintance with Mrs. Darcy secret as well. It would be best if no one ever made the connection between the three of us.”

“But Anne,” he said looking somewhat bewildered, “I’ve already come into contact with two gentleman related to Mrs. Darcy. I made no mention of you, of course, but had no way of denying my acquaintance with her.”

“Two gentleman?” said Anne rather loudly, drawing unwanted attention to herself. She smiled sheepishly at the stern-looking governess at the nearby table and murmured, “Excuse me,” before turning back to continue the conversation in more muted tones. “What two gentleman? When? You must tell me all, Simon!”

“Mr. Darcy came to thank me for my intervention the very next day after we met. He knocked on my door with an embarrassingly large basket filled with spirits, sweets, and fruits, though he never even came inside—simply shook my hand and offered a few words of gratitude.”

“Fitzwilliam was here—on Crestwood Lane?” She could barely breathe. How close had she come to meeting him…to ruining her chances of obtaining her freedom on her own terms? She paled and asked hesitantly, “And the second gentleman? Who was he?”

“Ah, well…now you’ve caught me, Anne, for I must first admit to an earlier deception. Not wishing to upset you, I fabricated the story about these bruises. The truth is they are the result of a rather heated exchange between this military gentleman and myself. Of course, I told him nothing—but neither did I lie. Unfortunately, his frustration got the better of him, I’m afraid, and I was caught completely off guard.”

“He struck you? But why? What did this row have to do with Mrs. Darcy?”

“Well, he claimed to be Mrs. Darcy’s cousin and demanded to know why she was coming to see me every week. He evidently thought that there was something unsavory going on between us. I assured him there was not, but when I refused to share the nature of our relationship or the reason for her coming, he…he became incensed. I don’t blame him really. He was only being loyal to Mr. Darcy, I suppose. I didn’t catch his name at first, but later found out that it was Fitzwilliam…Richard Fitzwilliam.”

“Richard? How dare he meddle in Elizabeth’s affairs! And how dare he strike you? Oh, Simon, I am so sorry! I can’t imagine how he found out about her coming here, but now I understand why she was forced to stay away…” Anne grew suddenly quiet, obviously trying to digest all she had just learned.

“What have I done to her?” she murmured after a few moments of anxious contemplation. “I knew there was bound to be some unpleasantness when my cousin found out about the secret I had forced on Elizabeth, but I never dreamed of anything like this happening! And Richard…how on earth did he become involved? I hope you gave him back as good as he gave, Simon.”

“So…Mr. Darcy is your cousin? And the Colonel—is he related as well?”

Anne nodded, and Simon Fennimore sighed, shaking his head.

“Well, the Colonel is in rather bad shape, I fear…but I can neither take the blame nor the credit for that. My sister Juliana came upon our row and…well, in an effort to protect me, she swung at him with a heavy bag she was carrying. I was actually quite upset with her,” he said solemnly, “for he was quite seriously hurt. She walloped him on the side of the head and injured his inner ear. It was necessary for him to remain at Dr. Morrison’s surgery for three days before he could be moved to the Darcys’ for another month of convalescence. Mrs. Darcy said he was still in an inordinate amount of pain. I’m afraid he has paid dearly for his interference, Anne.”

Anne was too overcome to speak. Richard was seriously hurt and Elizabeth had been put in a dangerously compromised position! Did Fitzwilliam now doubt her faithfulness? How much pain had she already caused her dear family, and how on earth could she allow the situation to continue?

Yet, one thing was truly puzzling. Had Fitzwilliam been told about Elizabeth’s visits to Crestwood Lane? Surely, if he had any inkling of it, he would have confronted Simon himself by now? Had Elizabeth managed to invent a believable story…or had she sworn Richard into secrecy as well? Before she had the answers to all these questions, Anne knew she’d have to be careful not to give too much away herself. Perhaps all was not yet lost! Tears welled up as she realized the consequences she would have to face if forced to give up now.

“Simon,” she whispered, “I feel suddenly so terribly vulnerable. I thought I had hidden myself away so well, but obviously, I’ve been blind and foolish. And so much more is at stake now…” She brought his hand to her lips for a brief, furtive kiss, then looked at him beseechingly.

“If Mama finds me now, she will come and drag me back home, with a constable at her side, if necessary, claiming that my behavior is only further proof of my inability to make rational choices and live without her care.” Here, she pressed his hand and murmured, “She would never approve of our attachment and would do what she could to separate us. Simon, legally winning my independence from her is more important than ever. If I don’t, we may never be together.”

“I understand that, Anne, but what else can we do?”

“I must go deeper into hiding—from Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, from Richard and…from you. We cannot risk being discovered together, Simon, or having you inadvertently lead someone to me. I cannot bear the thought of leaving you for so long, but I must. And you must not make it harder for me,” she said suddenly rising and gesturing him to stay seated. “We have a four-month separation to endure…but we must endure it! Please tell me that you will wait for me,” she begged, her tears spilling over onto her cheeks.

“How can you even ask it, Anne?” he said rising, though not moving towards her. “But you cannot leave me with no way of reaching you? I must have some weekly assurance that you are well. Please, Anne…”

She shook her head ever so slightly and fled.

Chapter Seven

Posted on Sunday, 12 March 2006

A bachelor send-off would not have been Richard Fitzwilliam’s preference for a first evening out among the living, but it was a commitment he had made a month earlier—the now- infamous day he had visited Logan and seen Elizabeth on Crestwood Lane. He had promised to join his men as they helped Beechum celebrate his last night of freedom before his wedding. Now, here he was, responsible for his men once again---not on the field of battle, but on a far more unpredictable, and therefore treacherous, playing field—that of a London city street after dark.

Seeing that the groom was in no condition for further merriment, the Colonel had insisted that they escort, and if necessary, carry his inebriated body back to his billet and put him to bed. The man had less than ten hours to sleep off the effects of all the spirits he had consumed and make himself presentable for his bride.

Though still on bit unsteady on his own feet, the Colonel now good-naturedly supported the ample weight of the groom, who alternately roared with laughter or cried like a baby, as he bemoaned his fate and all he would now have to sacrifice. The smell of the man’s breath nauseated him, the deafening volume of his voice so close to his ear made him flinch with pain.

They made their way down the street, weaving in and out among the strolling couples and groups of friends leaving the theatre and heading out for a bite to eat. It was all he could do to keep from bumping into innocent passersby while cautioning Beechum to keep a civil tongue in his mouth. A rowdy group of soldiers was never tolerated, no matter how valiant their history.

“Now just look at the sway of those hips in front of us, Colonel,” slobbered Beechum, slurring his words and staggering from one side to the other. “Makes you want to grab that luscious …” The Colonel sprang forward to stay his hand as Beechum lunged for the young woman …but he was too late. She turned abruptly, her eyes blazing. Their eyes locked, and a flash of recognition passed between them.

“See here! What the devil is going on,” boomed the voice of the portly gentleman whose arm she had so suddenly and violently released. He whirled about, comically brandishing his walking stick and loudly threatening to call for a constable. “How dare you filthy ruffians lay a hand on a lady and make such licentious remarks? You ought to be horsewhipped for such behavior! Why, the streets of London are dangerous enough without the likes of you about. Your Colonel will hear about this; you can bet on that!”

The elderly couple walking beside them now protectively urged the young woman off to the side, anxious for her wounded pride. But the victim of the affront shook her head and refused to be whisked away, staring intently at the characters in the confrontation before her.

“Sir, I am this soldier’s commanding officer, and I humbly apologize for any offense he might have given. It was inexcusable, and I hope the young lady was not too frightened by it,” he said, allowing himself to shift his gaze in her direction for the briefest of moments. “But as you can see, he is far too intoxicated to think clearly. He and his mates have been celebrating his upcoming wedding, and so I beg you to make an exception and let this insult pass. I know it was utterly distasteful to the young lady, but I assure you that the man meant no harm. However obnoxious his behavior, he was simply admiring her beauty.” He turned, having finally found the courage to look into her eyes, thinking he would find the indignant rage he knew her capable of—but he did not. She simply stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Such disgraceful behavior cannot go unpunished!” her escort ranted. “Wedding celebration or not, he has given offense, and I shall have satisfaction!”

“Perhaps we might ask the young lady if she requires satisfaction,” said the Colonel. “If she feels the incident warrants the ruin of this soldier’s character, and the postponement, if not the cancellation of his wedding plans, then so be it. As she is the injured party, I believe it is for her to decide,” he said, casting a hopeful glance her way.

“She has nothing to do with it! Our entire party was insulted by this impudent scoundrel, and he shall pay the penalty for his insolence.” Grabbing Beechum by the collar, he took possession of him, but the uncooperative lout collapsed into a drunken heap at his feet.

Frustrated and thoroughly revolted by Beechum’s blubbering, the man kicked him in the ribs and spat, “Get up you lazy, worthless scum.”

“Let it be, Mr. Greasely. Let the poor wretch get go,” cried Juliana Fennimore, stepping closer. Her parents attempted to restrain her, but to no avail. “He has not injured me, sir, and this is far too big a fuss to be making over an insignificant slight. Please, let us just be on our way. I would much rather forget the entire incident than prolong this unpleasantness.”

“Insignificant slight?” shouted Greasely, now more indignant than ever. “My dear, no young lady under my protection shall be so dishonored without proper reprisal. I shall see to that!”

“Then you shall see to it yourself, sir, for I am going home,” she said turning on her heels. “And when you find your precious constable you can try explain why your victim has disappeared. Mama, Papa, will you be joining me?” she asked as she stood before the closed door of an elegant coach with the initials R.G. on the crest. The coachman had jumped down to assist her, but looked anxiously to his master for instructions. Juliana Fennimore stamped her silk-slippered foot indignantly. “Open this door and take me home immediately.”

“Juliana, wait,” called her mother after her, anxiously. “We cannot take Mr. Greasely’s coach and leave him here! Be reasonable, dearest, he is only trying to defend your honor.”

“Whether I wish him to or not, it seems. Mama, why don’t you ask Mr. Greasely to be a little more reasonable? Let us all go home to the lovely dinner Agnes has prepared. Please persuade him that this incident is not worth such a commotion.”

After a few more moments of unpleasantness, the Colonel gratefully saw the entire party enter the coach, leaving him once again with the task of getting Beechum to his bed. He looked to the others for support, but they were equally inebriated, and so he, having heeded Morrison’s warnings, was the only one sober enough for the task. He sighed heavily and lifted Beechum onto his shoulder. Then, unsteadily making his way down the street, he chuckled at the memory of his tigress stamping her dainty little foot before the closed coach door. At least he now knew something about her. Juliana was far too pretty and delicate a name for one of her disposition, and yet, it suited her somehow. ‘Juliana,’ he repeated. But who was the boor on whose arm she had leaned tonight? Had she cast Fennimore off, he wondered, or did she have a suitor in every neighborhood in London?

Lady Catherine de Bourgh sat by the fire and stared into the flames. Anger, frustration and heartache had been her constant companions these many months and she was genuinely tired. These futile, unproductive meetings with the detectives she had hired always seemed to deplete her of her remaining emotional resources. How was it possible that Anne had not yet been found? If she were not so terribly hurt and humiliated by the whole ordeal, she might allow herself the luxury of worrying more. To think that a child of hers would be so ungrateful, so selfish and so heartless! What had she ever done but devote herself to Anne’s well being?

When Anne had first disappeared, Lady Catherine had been certain that she would return almost as quickly as she had fled. She thought her an impetuous, angry child, running away from home only to return to its comfort and warmth when the outside world proved too much for her. She would then have a greater appreciation for what she had left behind and resume her role as the obedient, dutiful daughter. But as the days and weeks flew by, her Ladyship realized that this would not be the case, and carefully considered how to handle the situation.

Unfortunately, her brother and sister-in-law had departed for Italy and were not due to return for three months yet. To whom else could she turn for help? The Darcys were surely involved in the well-planned escape, if not its instigators, so expecting any cooperation from them was utterly preposterous. Likewise, her nephew, the Colonel, would be in the Darcy camp and of no use to her at all. In this dilemma, she felt utterly betrayed and alone.

How could she, in good conscience, make this humiliation public? To announce to the world that her child had deserted her—for whatever reason---was impossible. Besides, what good would it do other than to bring utter disgrace to all her family and at the same time create a hoard of opportunists who would torment her night and day? The Matlocks, though still completely unaware of their niece’s disappearance, would be affected as well. She could not cause such a scandal when her dear brother was recovering, ever so slowly, from the pneumonia he had contracted on the voyage back from Italy. No, if Anne did not wish to be found, then professional expertise would be needed to find her and pressure would be brought to bear.

One great disadvantage was that she could not simply move to London to search for Anne herself, as all their acquaintances there would ask after Anne. What excuse could she possibly give, when everyone knew that mother and daughter were never apart? And so, she was reduced to sitting and waiting by the fire, hoping that her child was well and that she would eventually come to her senses. Her Ladyship had less and less confidence that these highly paid investigators would actually be successful. They had spies posted all about the Darcy household and yet had come up with nothing. James, the coachman, was being carefully watched, while her nephew, and that woman were being followed to every shop, eating establishment and private party. The only positive thing that had come out of the investigation was the satisfaction she had gained in learning that the shameless girl was cuckolding her poor, unsuspecting nephew. Well, it would all be revealed soon enough, she was sure, for at this last visit, the agency had reported witnessing a row between Colonel Fitzwilliam and the young man Elizabeth had involved herself with. At least someone had the good sense to try and set things right. She had known all along that Darcy had been taken in by Miss Bennet’s charms, and that her marriage vows meant little to her!

When Anne finally reached home she made her excuses to Winifred and Eugenie, saying that she felt a cold coming on and needed to rest. Though they could clearly see that something was wrong, they allowed her to take to her room without a fuss. But when she was well out of earshot, Winifred eyed her sister knowingly and murmured, “I think I shall make a nice hearty broth….and perhaps bake some biscuits. I fear we shall be needing them.”

Now in the solitude of her room, Anne seated herself at her dressing table. Would she recognize the woman before her? Her eyes, glossy with tears, blurred her vision, and she blinked them repeatedly to regain her focus. Did she look any different now that she knew her love was reciprocated? How could such a monumental change in one’s future not affect one’s face! Simon Fennimore loved her! It was simply too wonderful to grasp. Her love and affection would no longer be limited to family members and children, but lavished on a man she adored—her husband! Her husband!! Was it possible? Would it ever really come to pass?

She had to make certain that it did, for she could not envision her life without him. And she knew he needed her as well. Besides, who would see to it that he ate properly, that he took better care of himself, that he continued his life’s work? The powerful love she felt for him would make the next few months a misery, but it would also keep her strong. Now more than ever, she had to stay hidden; she had to remain free.

Richard Fitzwilliam’s eyes twinkled in merriment as he lifted his glass to his beautiful cousin in acknowledgement of the bet he had just lost. Georgiana had been right, of course; no sooner had they entered the hall than the much-maligned Lord Hendrix had bounded up to reserve the first two dances. The Colonel had to give Georgiana a great deal of credit, for she looked as if she was having a perfectly marvelous time. Pity, she loathed the man; only compassion and good breeding had prompted her to accept his entreaty.

It was good to be out and about again, and escorting Georgie to these last events of the season served several purposes. For one thing, it relieved Darcy of the obligation, which he knew was very much appreciated, and secondly, it supplied him with priceless ammunition with which to tease Georgie at the breakfast table. Lastly, it allowed him to study the eligible young ladies at the ball with the minimum of participation, for it was perfectly acceptable for a relation, acting as an escort, to stand idly by; no one would think the worse of him for not dancing. And as was so often the case, tonight’s guest list consisted almost entirely of ladies he knew all too well—many of whom would never consider him a suitable match.

He accepted an offered canapé, and popping it into his mouth with relish, turned to greet an old acquaintance. They chatted amiably as they watched the graceful movements of the dancers in the never-ending patterns of the dance. Georgiana looked to him for reassurance now and then, and he acknowledged her with some small gesture. Yes, he was being vigilant; yes, she was always in his sights and yes, he would rescue her as soon as the dance was over.

Though he sometimes enjoyed dancing himself, he had resolved not to do so this evening as he still experienced some slight imbalance now and then, and did not wish to step on anyone’s toes. There had already been, however, a few young ladies who had given him the eye and had conveyed disappointment at the stationary position he had adopted. ‘Ah well, one cannot please all the ladies all the time,’ he chuckled to himself.

As the music now signaled the end of the set, he ventured towards the center of the room to separate Georgiana from Lord Hendrix. To his surprise, she had already successfully liberated herself and was engaged in an animated conversation with a small party of friends. As he drew near he recognized the more mature lady of the party, and as he turned, found himself face to face with her daughter—his tigress, Juliana. How could he have missed her? With whom had she been dancing? His heart beat wildly as he searched her face. She did not look at all surprised by his sudden appearance.

“I’d like to introduce my cousin and most patient and loyal escort, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Earl and Lady Fennimore,” said Georgiana, nodding to each person in turn. And then, as an aside, she added, “Oh, and my friend, Miss Juliana Fennimore.”

The Colonel bowed deeply, turning to the elder Fennimores first. Their smiles were warm and welcoming. Perhaps they did not recognize him from their previous meeting, several weeks earlier. Then he straightened to look into Juliana’s eyes, hoping for a similar response, but was sadly disappointed.

“The Colonel and I have already met—and not under the best of circumstances,” she said coldly, refusing to offer her hand as her mother had done.

“We have met before; it is true. But we’ve never been formally introduced, Miss Fennimore. I am very happy to make your acquaintance again under more pleasant circumstances,” he said, bowing to her again.

She looked irritated, casting her eyes heavenward, as if she were being sorely put upon, but the Colonel was determined to ignore her reaction. For G-d’s sake, she was Fennimore’s sister! Things were certainly looking up! Surely she could not hold his punching her brother in the jaw against him forever? Especially, if she understood his reason for doing so… But, of course, he could never divulge that! Blast! How was he going to manage this?

“I wasn’t aware that you two ladies were acquainted with one another,” he offered to fill the now awkward gap in the conversation. “You have never mentioned Miss Fennimore, Georgiana.”

“We’ve only recently met,” replied his cousin. “Was it not at the Krasdale’s dinner party some weeks ago?” she asked, smiling at her friend. Juliana nodded, staunchly keeping her silence and refusing to look his way.

As the musicians took up their instruments again, Georgiana turned to look for someone on the dance floor, and having found him, said, “If you will excuse me, I have promised this dance to Captain Stevens.” She curtsied and turned to join her partner, looking back over her shoulder for an instant, to grin at her cousin. He suddenly felt like an adolescent schoolboy at his very first dance, certain that his request for the lady’s hand would be rejected.

“Miss Fennimore,” he said in the most casual tone he could muster, “if you are not already engaged for this set, I would very much like the pleasure of dancing with you.” He braced himself, and although he knew how beautiful and seductive she could look with fire in her eyes, he hoped to see something different now. He hoped for a little mercy. How else would they ever get on together?

“I didn’t think you were dancing this evening, Colonel,” she began mockingly.

He was surprised at the remark, but would not let it discourage him. “You are quite right; I had resolved not to take the chance of stepping on my partner’s toes. I’ve recently suffered an injury that affected my equilibrium, you see, but… well, that was before I knew that I would have the opportunity to dance with you. I will do my utmost keep my balance, Miss Fennimore, if you are willing to risk it?” He offered her his hand in a way that made it difficult for her to refuse—especially with both her parents nodding approvingly.

After a long moment, she relented and stepped out onto the dance floor with him, though she had not yet given him her hand. Positioning herself for the start of the dance, she stared intently at him, though she said not a word.

As the music started, they drifted towards each another, their hands barely brushing, their eyes fixed on one another. The Colonel, having finally determined how to begin, waited for the dance to bring them closer again.

“I wish to thank you for your compassion the other night,” he began, hoping to alter the unfriendly path they had been on. But before he could continue, she cut him off abruptly.

“Do not thank me for actions you so cunningly orchestrated, Colonel. And never, ever do that to me again,” she said, with eyes blazing.

“Forgive me, Miss Fennimore, I don’t understand.”

She snorted softly in disdain. “Do you think me dimwitted, Colonel? You very conveniently thrust a problem upon me that you yourself could not handle and expected me to do your bidding!” she snapped. He shook his head in disbelief. How did she always manage to turn the tables on him?

“I expected nothing!” he said in exasperation. “I did trust in your sense of compassion, however, and despite yourself, Miss Fennimore, you lived up to my expectations of you.”

She was speechless for a moment, obviously surprised by his response, but managed to recover quickly. “And I suppose your insightful opinion of my character was formed the first day we met—based entirely on the strength of my blows against you.”

“Well, yes, actually,” he said with a touch of arrogance. “I thought Fennimore a very lucky man to have someone so passionate and courageous come to his defense—though I was frightfully envious. I did not realize, at the time, that he was your brother.”

Though shocked by the frankness of his remark, she determined not to let it soften her opinion of him. “You owe me a great apology for the way you treated me that day,” she continued crossly. “Do you torture all your prisoners once you have rendered them powerless? You nearly pulled my arm from its socket!”

“Indeed, it is you who owe me an apology, Miss Fennimore. Your blows left me totally incapacitated for weeks—and in terrible pain, I might add. I should still be furious with you were I not in awe of your powerful swing and your exemplary devotion to your brother,” he said in a low, angry tone, though his curling lips and twinkling eyes made it clear that he was playing with her. This infuriated her further, and she was about to storm off the dance floor when he slid his arm along hers and grasped her hand, holding firm.

“As for my treatment of you that day… It was shameless; I do admit it. I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but I ask you to forgive me. Despite my profession, it is not in my nature to inflict pain on anyone, no less a woman. Can you…will you forgive me, Miss Fennimore?”

She was thoughtful as they turned about each other in the dance, obliged as they were to change partners for a few moments before facing each other once more.

“I can forgive you for your cruelty to me…especially since you have suffered at my hands as well…but I cannot and will not forgive you for striking my brother. He is the kindest, gentlest of men, and I am sure he gave you every opportunity to talk the problem out before it came to blows. How could you attack him when you clearly had every advantage— your height, weight, fighting expertise? Besides, what could he have possibly done to make you despise him so?”

“I’m afraid I do not yet know the answer to that question,” he said softly, “but I assure you your brother is not blameless in all this. He cannot be.”

“This is ludicrous! You must be mad!” she cried. “Are you telling me that you nearly broke his jaw uncertain of the offense he had committed? I will not dance with you a moment longer,” she said, lifting the hem of her skirts so that she could quickly make her way out of the ballroom and out onto the veranda. He dashed after her, certain that every set of eyes in the room was following him.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, and were I not bound by a confidence, I would explain it all to you. I can only tell you this. I approached your brother in a civil manner with a question of great importance to me. He made it clear that although he knew the answer to my question, he would not respond to it. Indeed, he made light of the whole conversation, and it was only then that I lost my temper. You must believe that I have had enough violence and pain to last me a lifetime and am not the sort of man to look for a row.”

“Is that all?” she said incredulously. “He refused to answer your question? By any chance, did this question concern someone other than yourself?” she asked with irritation. When he hesitated, she impatiently exclaimed, “Are you truly brainless, Colonel? Did you ever think that my brother, given his profession, could not answer you without betraying the privacy of a patient?”

“A patient? What, is your brother a physician?” he blurted out, obviously bewildered. “I thought he did research on insects…or plants or… Is he not a botanist? They said he was a scientist.”

She gave him another puzzled and incredulous look that deeply humiliated him. How stupid! How thick could he be? Why had he not realized?… But then, that would mean that Elizabeth was seeing him for professional reasons. Good G-d! Elizabeth was ill and trying to spare her family the painful knowledge of it!

His heart rate now accelerated, he anxiously, breathlessly looked to her for some further enlightenment, but she looked as perplexed as he.

“Forgive me, I must go,” he murmured in a panic, turning quickly to search out his cousin. He caught her attention in the middle of a dance, and gestured for her to join him.

“Richard, are you ill?” asked Georgiana, hurrying towards him. All the color had gone from his face and his irregular breathing was clearly audible.

“Uh…yes, I suddenly feel feverish. I’m sorry to spoil your evening, Georgie, but would you mind if we left? I don’t think I can remain upright much longer.”

“Of course, we shall go immediately. I’ll get my wrap. But this must have come on rather suddenly. You looked so well earlier.” And then, looking over her cousin’s shoulder out onto the veranda, she spotted Juliana Fennimore observing them with the most peculiar expression on her face. Sighing heavily, Georgiana linked her arm with the Colonel’s and gave him an affectionate little squeeze as they headed out together.

“Forgive me for playing matchmaker, Richard. Juliana has obviously spoiled your evening. I’m not very good at this sort of thing, it seems, for I was certain that the two of you would hit it off together. I thought you so well suited! People say that she is difficult, but I’ve always found her lively, witty and very sensible. I suppose I’ve been proved wrong.”

“No, Georgie, quite the contrary. You were right in every respect. She is lively and sensible, though a little hot-headed, I suppose…but perfectly suited to my taste. Unfortunately, she and I have had a bad beginning and she is not yet ready to forget it. Let us go. I am in need of a warm bed and some peace and quiet.”

Chapter Eight

Posted on Sunday, 19 March 2006

The only person surprised at their early arrival home was the butler. The Darcys had retired to their suite some time ago, and faced with the prospect of carrying the burden of this distressing news till morning, the Colonel asked that a decanter of port be sent up to him. He kissed Georgiana good night, and with a heavy heart, plodded up the stairs. He would get precious little sleep tonight.

The next morning, he rose early, but deliberately waited until the family was almost through with breakfast before joining them. He could not see himself sitting between his cousins having to pretend that all was well. Instead, he hovered at the top of the stairs listening to the familiar sounds and rhythms of the household, trying to determine when it would be best to make his entrance.

“Richard, here you are! Come and have some coffee. Georgie was just telling us that you felt poorly last night. Are you feeling somewhat recovered?” asked Darcy, motioning to his cousin’s usual place at the table.

“I am much recovered, thank you, Darcy. I find that I still lose my equilibrium now and then… but it passes quickly enough. Sorry to be late for breakfast.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Richard,” said Elizabeth with concern. “You should have slept in and called for a tray.”

“No, no, I must get to the Admiralty this morning and to some other appointments this afternoon…but I would like to speak to you, Darcy, before I leave.”

“Well then, get yourself some breakfast and we can talk while you eat.”

“I’d prefer to have some coffee in the library if you don’t mind. Are you ready?” Colonel Fitzwilliam stood awkwardly by his cousin’s chair, leaving him no choice but to accompany him.

A bit puzzled, but more than willing to oblige, Darcy left the table with a bemused grin to the ladies. “I will come to the nursery to kiss you all good-bye before I leave for my meeting with Bentworth,” he said as he turned and followed the Colonel out of the breakfast room.

The door to the nursery was suddenly and violently flung open and its arc stood Fitzwilliam Darcy, his eyes almost savage in their intensity, searching for his wife. When he spotted her, he simply stared, momentarily fixed like some otherworldly spirit.

From his expression, Elizabeth knew that the confidence had been broken, and holding out her hand, exclaimed, “You’ll frighten the baby, Fitzwilliam. I am coming to you directly.”

She handed Edward to Nanny Henderson and clasping her husband’s hand as she came to the door, pulled him out and towards their private suite of rooms. Once in their bedroom, she turned to face him with trepidation, for it had been impossible to decipher the wild look in his eyes. The longer she gazed at him, however, the more convinced she became that it was fear and desperation she saw—not anger. She finally allowed herself to breathe.

As if suddenly coming to life again, Darcy sprang forward and firmly grasped his wife’s shoulders in his powerful hands. He shook her for a moment, with no intention of hurting her, but with every intention of having her attend to his words. “Elizabeth, you must tell me at once what is wrong! What does Fennimore say is ailing you? You need not spare me! How am I to help you, to comfort you if you keep me in the dark? We are man and wife, for G-d’s sake. Why have you kept this from me?”

Elizabeth gasped, and on recovering her breath, tried to speak. Her voice quavered. “Fitzwilliam, my love, be calmed. There is nothing wrong with me. I am well, perfectly well…and Doctor Fennimore will confirm it. I do not visit him for my health…I…I…” And taking his face in her hands she kissed it again and again, murmuring, “You needn’t be frightened; I am well, Fitzwilliam, I am well.”

Darcy allowed his head to sink onto his wife’s shoulder and wrapped himself around her so tightly that she could hardly breathe. She could feel his heart pounding against hers—feel his pulse racing. After a few moments, he drew her out at arm’s length and looked at her, utterly perplexed.

“Then why on earth do you go to see him? You’ve been visiting him on a weekly basis, I understand. Am I wrong? Have I been misinformed?” he asked, shaking his head disbelievingly as he spoke.

“No, you are correct. I do…that is, I did—for some time.” Elizabeth paused; her breath had become even shakier. “I know this will be difficult to understand, Fitzwilliam, but I cannot tell you my reasons for going there. I am bound by a promise I was forced to make, but now wish to honor until I am absolved of it. I beg you not to press me. Please, please, have faith in my good intentions and my love for this family. You know I would do nothing to hurt you or risk our happiness.”

He stared at her incredulously.

“Let me understand this, Elizabeth,” he began softly, measuring his tone and expression. “For the past few months you have been visiting, solely on your own, the residence of an unmarried gentleman on a weekly basis. You keep this completely hidden from me, pretending instead to be spending time with your aunt Gardiner. And now you wish me to accept this without question? Without pressing you further? Have you gone mad, Elizabeth?” he now bellowed, anger and terror in his eyes.

“I know it is asking a great deal of you, Fitzwilliam, and you must know that it breaks my heart to have to ask it of you, but…”

“But… but what?” he interjected crossly. “This person’s secret carries greater weight than your husband’s well being? This confidence is worth the ruin of your reputation, the dishonor of this family? Good G-d, Elizabeth, what has happened to you? You have cut me to the core and you stand there behaving as if it is nothing at all!”

“That is not true!” she cried, rushing to embrace him, but he pushed her arms away and took a step back, distancing himself from her.

“I know this is possibly this most trying situation a married couple can find themselves in, but I had hoped that our trust in one another could withstand it—especially since I will be free to tell you everything in a few short months.”

“A few short months?” he roared. “You expect me to live with this for months without any hint of what it is about? What can you be thinking?”

“I was thinking about the promises we made to each other at Braemar…in the garden the day we realized that we had both suffered so unnecessarily because of our misunderstandings. We swore that we would never allow outside forces to influence us, that we would trust each other above all others and never doubt our devotion to one another? Those fine promises have never been tested…till now, and I beg you to think on them and to trust me, no matter the circumstances.”

She saw his eyes soften and heard the slow release of breath from his nostrils…though his teeth remained clenched and his countenance grave. “It is easy for you to ask it when it is I who am being tested, Elizabeth,” he said softly, “…and it is you who have shown yourself disloyal to the spirit of that pledge.” Yet despite his bitter words, all the fight had gone out of him, it seemed, and he stood before her, with eyes pleading for her to relieve his misery.

It nearly broke her heart to see him thus, but she had been expecting this confrontation for some time now and had prepared herself a little. She had played every possible variation of this scenario dozens and dozens of times before in her mind and had resolved to break her vow to Anne if it proved too painful for Fitzwilliam to bear. At the same time, she realized that it would take him time to adjust to the news and to sort out his true feelings about it. Therefore, she believed she ought not reveal her secret too hastily. She determined to hold firm for at least a day and to observe Fitzwilliam most carefully. Her heart would tell her what to do.

“Do you not think this is painful for me, as well? Do you think me devoid of all feeling?” she said softly. “These past months have been both a privilege and a torture—which you will only be able to understand once the secret is divulged,” she added hastily, as her husband opened his mouth to protest. “In the meantime, I beg you to think on what I have said and to give yourself time to reflect. Since you are promised a full explanation some months from now, I don’t think it is asking too much for you to wait till then. It is simply a matter of trust, Fitzwilliam.”

“I don’t know that I can live with it gnawing at me, Elizabeth. It is difficult to push something of this magnitude out of one’s mind. Besides, if it is as innocent as you say, why in heaven’s name can’t you tell me what it is?” he now bellowed, pacing about the room.

“I have given my word, and the person involved believes that great damage will be done if the secret is revealed too early. That is all I can say. Now, I would like to spend a little time with Edward before his morning nap. Won’t you join me?”

Darcy turned to stare out the window, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. “I’ll be in shortly,” he murmured.

They spent a painfully stressful day, avoiding each other’s eyes, while blatantly observing each other’s every movement and change in mood. Darcy took himself off to his club in the afternoon, while Elizabeth spent most of her day close to her child. She needed Edward’s sweet, unconditional love to comfort her. Perhaps, she thought, her husband’s heart would soften in the privacy of their bed tonight. The harsh light of day seemed to blind him to what was truly important. Then suddenly a frightful dread found its way into her thoughts and she pushed the image away, pressing Edward to her even closer.

Dinner was a silent and solemn affair, as Richard had intentionally invited Georgiana out to dine. The Darcys picked at their meal, casting furtive glances at one another from time to time, each lost in his or her own inner dialogue. When she could stand the silence no longer, Elizabeth rose and said softly, “Shall we have our tea and port sent up to us, Fitzwilliam? We can make ourselves more comfortable upstairs.”

“Do you intend to use your feminine wiles to charm me into blind submission, then?” he said sarcastically, avoiding her eyes.

Elizabeth swallowed with difficulty. Did he really mean that? Was that cruel remark an indication of his true feelings towards her now? She decided to suppress the hurt and do whatever was necessary to change his mood. “I would…if I thought my husband would enjoy it,” she murmured.

He gave her the gift of his full attention now, his gaze penetrating hers with such longing. “You must know how much I yearn to find comfort in your arms, Elizabeth—for you to reassure me that all is well and as it used to be. But then Fennimore’s image invades my mind and I see him as a great wall between us. Why is it that he has the privilege of knowing a secret that I, your husband, am denied? I wish to G-d I had never met him! Then, at least, I would not know what a handsome man he is.”

“You cannot possibly believe that I have been unfaithful to you, Fitzwilliam? Or that I could have an interest in any other man but you? That is ludicrous! Why would I have given you his address and encouraged you to meet him if that were true?”

She searched his face for a response and when he remained unmoved she exclaimed bitterly. “As you are obviously wallowing in self-pity and will not listen to reason, Fitzwilliam, I will leave you to enjoy your misery. I am going to bed.” And with that she stormed out of the room.

After a few rounds of billiards—accompanied by the frequent swearing of oaths, muttered obscenities and bitter recriminations against himself, as well as his wife—Fitzwilliam Darcy made his way up to his bedchamber. Somewhere between the sixteenth and seventeenth step, however, a dreadful anxiety overcame him and he took the rest of the steps three at a time to hasten his progress. When he entered the room and gratefully saw her asleep in their bed, the tightly knotted nerves at the back of his neck loosened a bit and he sighed. He undressed quickly, washed minimally and slid in beside her.

Elizabeth, Elizabeth, my love. Why will you not relieve me? Why will you not confide in me and end this terrible suffering? You cannot love another! It is unthinkable…then why do you put his needs before mine? he thought. He lay quietly listening to her steady breathing, wishing she would awaken and tell him all he needed to know.

In time, Elizabeth did stir, made aware of her husband’s presence by the increasing warmth of the bed and the steady hssssss of the air being forced from his nostrils. Whenever Fitzwilliam was angry or distressed, the sound of his breathing became louder, more apparent—a reliable barometer of his emotions. My poor, darling husband… she thought. I cannot bear to see you suffering so!

With every intention of bringing this painful situation to an end, she reached out to stroke the fine, dark hairs that peeked from the top of his linen nightshirt— only to have her hand forcefully removed and cast aside, like some discarded object. Shocked, she turned away from him and buried her face in her pillow.

Her husband, too, turned his back, his resentment smoldering, his mind secretly raging at her for inflicting this torment. But then he felt the shaking of her body and heard the almost inaudible sound of a muffled sob. His bitter resolve softened and his anger began to melt away.

What had he done? What was he thinking? This was Elizabeth he was rebuffing—his Elizabeth…the love of his life, the mother of his children—his very happiness! How could he reject her loving advances? Indeed, how could he suspect her of anything improper? No wife could be more loyal, more loving, more deserving of his trust than she. She had asked for his faith in her and he had refused to give it. His pride had undone him once again! For all the strides he had made, it seemed he was still not worthy of her. He turned and tentatively reached out for her.

Her body tensed as the mattress responded to his shifting weight. She felt the touch of his hand on the base of her neck, the warmth of his lips moving across her shoulder. “Forgive me,” he murmured tenderly. “I’ve been a fool to doubt you. Forgive me, please my love. I cannot bear this distance between us.”

Her response was immediate. She turned to him with tear-filled eyes, but with a smile as wide as the love she felt for him. She encircled him with her arms and drew him to her. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam, thank you. Believe me, we shall joke about this one day, and I hope that you will be as proud of me then, as I am of you now.”

At breakfast the next morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam was surprised by the truly calm and affectionate aura surrounding his beloved cousins. He could not tell which one of them had given in to the demands of the other, but he was genuinely glad that they had come to an understanding. He was astonished, however, at Darcy’s sudden announcement at the end of the meal that the family would be leaving for Pemberley as early as the next morning.

Obviously, it was a decision he had come to on his own, as all the other members of the family were as surprised as he.

“This soon, Fitzwilliam?” said Georgiana, gaping at him. “That gives me no time at all to take leave of my friends. It isn’t even enough time to pack!”

“The servants have been informed and are packing as we speak,” said her brother rather matter-of-factly. “Mrs. Reynolds and several of the town servants left for Pemberley an hour ago, so all will be ready for our arrival. You can spend the day visiting, if you like, and may invite anyone you wish to come and stay with us in Derbyshire. I, for one, cannot wait to get back to the country—and now that Edward is walking, my darling boy is certainly ready for the open fields of wildflowers and sparkling fresh air of home.”

Here he grinned affectionately at his wife and squeezed her hand, expecting her to be as pleased as he. Quite the contrary, she became anxious and agitated.

“We cannot leave town, Fitzwilliam. It is not in the best interest of the family. We must stay for a few more months…please, do not do this, do not force us to go,” she murmured.

Everyone stared. Darcy’s nostrils flared, the air being forced from them clearly audible.

“And I suppose you are not at liberty to tell us why that may be,” he said with some restraint, though obviously working himself into a temper.

“No, I cannot. You know I cannot. I thought this was all settled; I thought you understood,” she said angrily.

Georgiana, having been protected till now from the tension between her brother and his wife, sat gaping at them. Fear filled her heart.

“What I understand is that I have a dear and devoted wife who has been coerced into keeping a monumental and damaging confidence. Be that as it may, I have accepted the need to be patient and understanding, and am prepared to do so. But I refuse to have this person’s needs dictate the comings and goings of this entire family and to remain in a place that makes it convenient for him to…”

“Fitzwilliam, please!” shouted Elizabeth, rising from her seat in anger. “This is uncalled for and completely unworthy of you!”

He, too, rose, towering over her, making it perfectly clear that he was not to be gainsaid. He managed, however, to modulate his voice when he retorted, “Elizabeth, my son and I leave for Pemberley tomorrow morning. I sincerely hope that his mother will be there to join us.” He put his napkin down on his plate and left the room.

From her private bedchamber, where she was packing her intimate apparel, Elizabeth could hear her husband’s early arrival home. She had not expected him before dinner, and it was now only four o’clock. He was making such an awful ruckus, she could not imagine what was upsetting him now, and shaking her head at his immature behavior, continued with her task. No doubt, he would be bursting in at any moment and letting her know what the excitement was all about. She did not even turn to look at him when he did.

She could feel him standing behind her for a long uncomfortable moment, then felt his arms encircle her as he took the silk chemise from her hand and laid it on the bed. His warm breath caressed her ear as he whispered, “Thank you, my love,” before turning her towards him. His anguished face stunned her.

“Sadly, our bitter words were for naught, Elizabeth; there has been a sudden change in plans. We are going nowhere. I’ve just learned that Anne has fled Rosings and has been missing for many months now. Imagine Lady Catherine’s keeping this from the family for so long! What inconceivable stupidity and pride! G-d only knows how we shall find Anne after all this time. She must either be so well hidden or…” his voice faltered. “We must find her…we must…and pray it is not too late!” he said, his voice shaking pitifully. “I have neglected her and failed her yet again, Elizabeth.” And pressing his wife to his chest, Fitzwilliam Darcy rested his head on hers and wept.

Chapter Nine

Posted on Sunday, 26 March 2006

Had her husband been able to see the smile on her face as he hugged her to him, he would not have understood its meaning. The relief Elizabeth felt at hearing that Anne’s desertion was finally out in the open was considerable, for this left her no choice but to tell Fitzwilliam everything. It was one thing to keep the secret from her husband when he thought Anne safe at Rosings, but now that he knew of her escape and believed her in danger, she could not needlessly torment him. Stroking his hair and hugging him tightly, she murmured softly, “Fitzwilliam, do not fret so; all will be well. Come sit beside me and tell me how you learned of this.”

“It seems that my uncle grew concerned when his sister and niece did not visit him during his recent illness—and her Ladyship’s excuses did not ring true. So as soon as he was fit enough to travel, he and my aunt made the journey to Rosings and learned the shocking truth. But I have not much time to linger, Elizabeth,” he said, drawing back from her embrace to search out his handkerchief. “I simply wanted to tell you and Georgie the news and why we cannot leave London just now. Richard and I are due to meet with an agent my aunt engaged some months ago. He will fill us in on all he has learned so far, and we shall then decide on how to proceed.”

“Then it is especially important that we talk first,” she said anxiously, drawing him down onto the edge the bed. “Fitzwilliam, you needn’t fear for Anne’s well being. She is well and tucked safely away in a neighborhood nearby. But the last thing in the world that she wants is to be discovered... and we must respect her wishes.”

“What? How on earth would you know that?” he cried, rising to loom over her.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush. “It is Anne who has been my secret these many months, Fitzwilliam. It is her confidence that I’ve been keeping. She especially wanted it kept from you, as she did not want you to take her problems on as your own. I know this hurts you, my love, but I do understand her reasoning and will explain it more fully when there is time. For now, it is imperative that you and Richard hide any knowledge of her being in London. Indeed, you must find a way to mislead this agent—to throw him off course.”

Fitzwilliam Darcy continued to stare at his wife, thoroughly dumbfounded. Nothing she said made sense. One thing, however, was perfectly clear; Anne obviously saw his involvement as a hindrance rather than a help. He could not help but feel hurt.

At that very moment, Richard appeared in the open doorway, a look of urgency in his eyes. “Forgive me for interrupting, but I found Georgie in the library and have asked her to wait for us there. I thought you would wish to tell her yourself, unless you…”

“No, you are quite right,” replied Darcy, taking Elizabeth’s hand. “We should all be together to hear this latest news. It seems Elizabeth knows more about this than any of us,” he said with a touch of resentment in his voice.

When they entered the library, Georgiana was pacing and wringing her hands. Ever since Elizabeth’s marriage to her brother, she had felt the kind of happiness and security she had rarely known before. Only in dreams, when she saw the blurred images of her mother, did she feel so safe. The home she now shared with Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth was warm and accepting, filled with love and genuine concern for all its inhabitants. But the scene at the breakfast table this morning had greatly distressed her and now Richard was talking of a family crisis! How had all this come about so quickly…and literally under her nose? Her eyes were as large as saucers and filled with tears.

Elizabeth went to her directly and drew her into an embrace. “Georgie, dearest, there is no need for tears,” she said quickly. “There is nothing wrong that will not be set right in time. Now come sit beside me and let me tell you all that I know.”

While Elizabeth shared her story with the family, James was sent to the office of Mr. Brimsdale, the detective, to ask for an hour’s postponement of their meeting. There was no need for him invent a reason for the delay. The hastily scribbled note said that Mr. Darcy needed a bit more time to console his sister, given the dreadful news of her cousin’s disappearance. Indeed, Georgiana was deeply distressed, and like her brother, felt the pangs of wounded pride. But above all, Georgiana marveled at her cousin’s strength and daring.

“Perhaps it is time for Anne to leave London,” suggested the Colonel. “My parents write that they will be in town no later than Saturday, and I would not be at all surprised if my father manages to persuade Lady Catherine to come as well. When they arrived at Rosings, they found her in quite a state. She has been alone with this secret for far too long, my mother writes. And with all of them milling about the town, and detectives snooping about, there will be no safe place for Anne to venture out. It would be detrimental to her health to be so confined for so long, especially when you tell us that she has gotten into the habit of walking and taking the air. We could move her to some obscure location rather easily, I should think. We could even send her abroad for the months she wishes to remain incognito.”

“You may be right, Richard. It will certainly be easier and far less risky than trying to steer the detectives away from her. A convent in Switzerland, perhaps? What do you think?” said Darcy, looking to the women of his family.

Elizabeth shook her head in nervous agitation. “Fitzwilliam, you seem to have misunderstood! I do not know where Anne is living, and I have no way of contacting her. Besides, you forget that Anne wants to do this without our help. That was the reason for all this secrecy.”

“What do you mean you don’t know where she is? You met with her every week; surely you…”

“No, I did not. I entered by the front door and Anne came through the servant’s entrance at the rear of the house. She asked me never to follow her, and I respected her wishes.”

“But how can we help her if we don’t know where she is?” cried the Colonel more forcefully than he had intended.

Elizabeth’s frustration was palpable. “Anne knows you both so well. You have this uncontrollable need to manage everything—to take the helpless little lady under your protection. Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I have, my love,” said Darcy, tenderly. “But I also feel that the situation has now changed completely. With her Ladyship coming to London and the possibility of the entire affair becoming public, I fear she will be found out. Think of all the people she has come into contact with already. You say she frequented the sweet shop; surely the owners will make the connection once a description of her is published in the papers. People feel it is their duty to help find a missing person…especially if there is hope of a reward.”

Georgiana now squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “I must say that I agree with Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth. Aunt Catherine knows not to trust us, and she is clever enough to suspect our involvement. If the search goes on for too long without success, she may come to realize that we are leading the detectives astray. I don’t see why Anne doesn’t come forward now. Surely eight months is a very long time for a young woman to be entirely on her own. But if she will not, then I think it is best for her to be as far away as possible.”

Richard Fitzwilliam nodded, and Elizabeth could make no convincing argument against it.

Darcy came to sit on the other side of his wife, and lovingly took her hand. “Think Elizabeth; surely Anne must have let something slip about her living arrangements. Can you think of nothing that would help us find her?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “She is so disciplined and determined; she measures every word. There is someone, however, with whom she may have been more open. I hesitated telling you earlier for fear that the two of you would jump to conclusions again,” she said, looking from her husband to her cousin, “but I believe Anne has formed a strong attachment to Dr. Fennimore. He may know more than I.”

“And does he return her affection?” asked Georgiana eagerly, her eyes suddenly aglow. “You have always described him as a fine gentleman.”

“I believe he does,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “though I obviously can’t know if they have declared their feelings for one another. I only know what I saw and felt when we were together. They are both besotted; of that I am sure.”

“Then we shall have to speak to him immediately and take him into our confidence,” said Fitzwilliam.

“But going to his home is out of the question,” said Elizabeth. “We will lead this detective directly to him and then make it impossible for him to be of any use to us or Anne.”

“Then we must find a way to contact him more discreetly,” said Darcy.

“Perhaps I can invite Juliana over for tea, or go and visit her? We can do this all through her,” offered Georgiana.

“Juliana? Who is Juliana?” asked Darcy, perplexed.

“Fennimore’s sister,” said the Colonel, reddening. “It is a long story…to be told on another day— but as time is of the essence and as Miss Fennimore may not be able to visit immediately, I could try to see her on the premise that I am delivering Georgie’s invitation.”

“Won’t that seem a bit odd, Richard?” Elizabeth’s brows arched in surprise.

“Perhaps…but I am willing to risk it.” He winked at Georgiana as he continued, “I have another reason for wanting to see her.”

There was an awkward, perplexing silence as everyone shot furtive glances at everyone else. Impatient, Darcy finally broke the spell, saying, “Well, let’s get to it then. Elizabeth, I think it best if the letter to Fennimore came from you; there is a relationship there, after all. And Georgie, you write the invitation and address the letter in your hand. Richard and I will meet with Brimsdale and convince him of our complete innocence in the scheme—which should not be difficult given that it was the truth until a half hour ago! As soon as we return, Richard will be on his way to Miss Fennimore’s. Let us hope she is at home. I would hate this missive to get into the wrong hands.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam tethered his horse to a pole behind a richly appointed carriage waiting outside the Fennimore home. As he passed it, he recognized the initials on the crest—R.G.

“Blast! Is that vulture still circling?” he muttered to himself, wondering whether he should return the next morning or wait for Greasley to take his leave. Perhaps the man had been invited to dinner and would remain for some hours yet. But before the Colonel had the chance to make his decision, the gentleman himself came storming out of the house, huffing and wheezing and muttering angrily to himself. His puffy red face looked as if it was about to burst with indignation. A linen dinner napkin still tucked under his chin, he waddled down the front steps.

The Colonel stepped forward to have a bit of fun. Aiming directly at him, he bumped Greasley lightly as they passed on the stairs.

“I do beg your pardon,” said the Colonel, in a jovial tone, tipping his hat and flashing Greasley a cheeky grin. But the man was so overwrought that despite a momentary spark of recognition, he simply glared at the Colonel for an instant and moved on. Shouting impatiently at his driver, he entered his carriage and was gone.

The Colonel straightened his coat, squared his soldiers and proceeded up the steps. Once on the landing, he was assaulted by the derisive sounds of the confrontation within. Lord Fennimore was raging, Lady Fennimore was pleading and more than one door was being slammed off its hinges.

“Ah… that would be my tigress, no doubt,” chuckled the Colonel. “Perfect timing!” He lifted the knocker.

It took longer than usual for the maid to come to the door, but the Colonel stood, waiting patiently.

“Good evening, sir,” said she with a small curtsy, her eyes nervously shifting from his face to that of her mistress, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs at the other end of the foyer.“May I help you?”

“Yes, I would like to see Miss Fennimore, please. Richard Fitzwilliam calling.”

“I don’t think Miss Fennimore is accepting visitors just now, sir,” she said, anxiously glancing back towards her mistress again.

“Oh, forgive me. Is the family at table?” he asked with his most charming grin. “How inconsiderate of me. I was just passing and thought I might deliver this letter.”

“I’d be happy to give it to Miss Fennimore, if you please, sir,” she said, stretching out her hand to receive it.

“I was asked to put it directly into her hands, Miss. Could you not ask if she would grant me but a brief interview? I shall not take up much of her time.” His smile was so confident, so completely disarming that after only a moment’s hesitation the maid asked him to wait while she consulted her mistress.

Lady Fennimore, who had been watching the entire exchange with great interest, was making her way to the door even before her servant had approached her. Dismissing the young woman with a wave of her hand, she looked at the Colonel with great curiosity.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam, is it not?” she asked.

“Yes, my Lady. How good to see you again,” replied the Colonel, giving her his most gallant bow.

“And what brings you to us at this time of day, Colonel? Is something amiss?” Her smile betrayed her amusement.

“No, no, nothing at all is amiss. My cousin, Georgiana Darcy, was just finishing this missive to your daughter, Madam, when I came to take my leave of her. And as I was going to pass this way on my way to the club, I offered to deliver it.”

“I see,” said Lady Fennimore, with a knowing grin, “and are those gorgeous roses from Miss Darcy as well?”

The Colonel blushed and gave her a discomfited smile. “No madam, these, I will admit, are from me. As you may have noticed on the evening of the ball, I left Miss Fennimore rather suddenly—without taking leave of her or giving any explanation for my behavior. The truth is I have come to apologize. I am aware of the hour, Lady Fennimore, but I hoped that…”

“My daughter has had a rather trying evening, Colonel; I don’t know that she is up to receiving anyone …but I shall go and ask her. Would you care to wait in the small sitting room? Agnes will show you the way.”

“Certainly, your Ladyship…and thank you.”

Once left on his own, the Colonel began to chastise himself. You’re getting a bit too cocky, Fitzwilliam. You may have charmed your way into this sitting room, but don’t forget with whom you will be dealing now. Juliana will have you out on your bum if you try to bamboozle her. Remember your main objective and don’t let those blue eyes get the better of you!”

When he heard the door open, he spun around and found himself gazing into those dangerously bewitching pools. He might have allowed himself to drown in them, had not Lady Fennimore followed her daughter into the room. She seated herself by the window and picked up her embroidery.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam, this is a surprise. I trust you are feeling better,” said Juliana Fennimore.

Her voice was calm, but he could sense that underneath that composed exterior she was in a heightened state of anxiety. It was obvious that she had been weeping, though a less keen observer might not have seen the well-masked evidence of it. His heart ached to see her so unhappy but rejoiced at what he hoped was the improvement of his own situation. Perhaps he would be able to coax a genuine smile from her lips before his visit was through.

“Indeed I am; thank you. I did feel rather ill when I left you so abruptly on the veranda the other evening, and since then, I’ve been concerned that you may have misinterpreted my actions. I’ve come to extend my sincere apology,” he said most tenderly. “I hope you will accept these flowers as a token of my esteem.” He bowed, then stepped towards her, extending the bouquet.

“They are exceptionally beautiful! Thank you, Colonel,” she said, smiling with some embarrassment as she accepted them. “I did realize that you must have been terribly unwell to call your cousin off the dance floor.”

“Yes, I felt awful about spoiling her evening, but it could not be helped. I hope, however, that you had a pleasant time after we left. The musicians were very good, were they not?”

“Yes, indeed they were. I enjoyed the music immensely, even when I was not dancing.” Her cheeks flushed suddenly, making her more beautiful than ever in his eyes. He came to her rescue with a change of topic.

“My secondary mission was to deliver this note from Georgiana. I am glad that the two of you have become friends; it will give me the opportunity to see you more often, Miss Fennimore.”

Her color deepened as his fingers brushed, ever so lightly, against hers in the exchange.

“It is an invitation to tea, I believe, and if you open it now and furnish me with a reply, I shall be honored to play messenger once again.”

“Yes, of course, Colonel. Please be seated.”

Juliana broke the seal, looked up at him and said, “Excuse me while I take a minute to read her note.”

She sat at the edge of the chair, her back straight, a sweet smile on her lips as her eyes darted across the page. Towards the bottom of the page, her expression changed, however. Her reading slowed, her eyes widened, and she looked up from the letter several times to look at him questioningly. He gazed at her intently and smiled reassuringly. Her breathing then quickened as she continued to read. She discreetly felt the corner of the paper to see if there was really another piece underneath it, and once convinced that there was, folded the letter up again and held it tightly to her.

“What a lovely invitation,” she exclaimed. “I would be very happy to come. I don’t believe we have any urgent plans for tomorrow afternoon, do we, Mama?”

As Lady Fennimore opened her mouth to speak, loud, determined steps could be heard outside the door. A moment later, Lord Fennimore entered without ceremony. He looked confused when he saw the Colonel sitting there and turned to his wife angrily, “What the devil is going on here? Didn’t I send her to her room?”

“Yes, dear, you did. But I allowed Juliana to…”

“Father, please!” murmured Juliana under her breath. “At least let me show the Colonel out before we start this again. You are embarrassing him…and me!”

“ I embarrass you?” Lord Fennimore bellowed. “After what you have done to me tonight? Why, you selfish, ungrateful girl! I shall never understand what you are about!“

“Father, please allow me to escort our guest to the door. I shall return in a moment,” she interrupted hastily. And nodding at the Colonel, she turned to leave the room.

“And what have you got there?” barked her father, noting the letter in her hand. “Have you gotten into the habit of accepting letters from gentlemen behind my back as well? Give it here,” he said, grabbing it out of her hand.

Unfolding the letter, he read the first few lines, tore it into several pieces and threw them up in the air, declaring, “You can forget about this or any other invitation! You are confined to this house until tomorrow afternoon when you leave for your Aunt Helen’s. I wash my hands of you, Juliana! I have had enough! If you do not wish to take your proper place in society then you shall have no society at all. That is my final word. Now go to your room!”

The Colonel had not taken a breath since the barrage had begun and now drew a quick breath as Juliana shamelessly stooped to collect the papers from the floor. Her chin held high, she brazenly glared at her father for a moment, then dashed the torn pieces into the fire.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she said, with quiet dignity. “May I show you out?”

“Indeed, thank you,” he mumbled, and bowing to Lady Fennimore, followed Juliana to the foyer.

She walked so quickly he had to lengthen his stride to keep up with her. And when she turned, he could see that she was having difficulty holding herself together.

“Miss Fennimore,” he began tenderly… but she would not let him continue. Holding up her hand to forestall him, she whispered, “I doubt that I will be able to see my brother before I am sent away. He now works with Dr. Morrison several days a week, so you’ll be able to reach him there. When you do speak to him, please tell him that I shall write as soon as I can. I’m sorry that I am not in a position to help you. I must go. Good-bye…and Colonel, I am very sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. I do wish you well.”

Urging him out, she closed the door.

Stunned by the sudden overthrow of all his hopeful plans, the Colonel remained fixed outside the door for some time. He wanted to believe that Juliana was still standing on the other side of it—that she could feel his presence through the solid oak. How could he leave her to bear all this alone? She had, of course, been dealing with her father without him all her life! Yet he felt as if he was abandoning her.

Simon Fennimore put away the last of the instruments he had cleaned and was about to roll down his sleeves when he heard the urgent rapping on the door.

“Merciful G-d, not another emergency!” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll never get home tonight!”

“Hold on; I’m coming,” he called out, grabbing his coat from the hook along the way.

“Yes, can I…” He stopped mid-sentence when he recognized the Colonel, his brow furrowing with concern. “Are you ill, Colonel? Come in, come in. What is wrong?”

“Is Morrison in?” asked the Colonel, quickly stepping inside and closing the door.

“No, he had one last patient to see before heading home for the night. But I assure you that I am qualified to help you if you would only tell me what is the matter.”

“Nothing is the matter with me…that is, nothing concerning my health; I am well recovered, thank you. And I am glad that Morrison is out, because it is you I have come to see. Can we sit down together, Fennimore? It’s important.”

“Yes, of course; come this way,” said the doctor, leading the Colonel into Morrison’s comfortable office. “You are not about to press me about Mrs. Darcy, I hope. I can tell you nothing.”

“You do not need to. Mrs. Darcy revealed the whole story to her family earlier this afternoon,” replied Fitzwilliam as he took the offered seat.

Fennimore looked shocked.

“As you may already know, Anne’s mother and my father are sister and brother. I received a letter from my father this morning, telling me of Anne’s lengthy absence from Rosings…for he had just learned of it himself. It seems the family elders will be descending on London on Friday or Saturday and we, the younger generation, are all in agreement that Anne is no longer safe here. My aunt will no doubt go to the authorities and claim Anne as a missing person. Once her identity is revealed, it won’t be long before someone gives her away.”

Fennimore rose from his seat, raked his fingers through his hair, then gazed at the Colonel thoughtfully. “And you believe I know where she is; am I right?”

“Yes, we were hopeful that you could get a message to her and help us get her out of the city…You do know where she is?”

“Sadly, no, I do not,” said Fennimore, shaking his head. “Anne wouldn’t risk my leading anyone to her. I have no idea where she resides. She only sometimes spoke of her dear, sweet ladies—but then, it is only natural that she would be living with ladies.”

“Then how in heaven’s name are we going to find her?” said the Colonel, softly to himself. “So it will come down to who can find her first—her Ladyship’s detectives or us? What an utterly ludicrous situation!”

Fennimore began to pace, his forehead knotted in concentration.

“There is something that may serve as a starting off point for our own investigation, however.”

“Go on,” said the Colonel, suddenly attentive.

“If I recall correctly, Anne always arrived by hansom cab on days of inclement weather…or on days that she seemed particularly tired. I remember that distinctly because when her heart rate and pulse were sluggish, I would comment…and she would then assure me that she had conserved her energy and taken a cab. More often, however, she would arrive with a rosy glow on her cheeks and a significantly elevated heart rate. Now, I cannot swear that she always came from home, but if she did, then we can easily mark a radius of about a mile and a half around Crestwood Lane. I know she would not be capable of walking a distance greater than that. There are some neighborhoods within that radius that would be totally inappropriate for a young woman alone, but the others…Well, it is a place to start.”

“Indeed, it is! It is a brilliant deduction, though I don’t quite know how we shall put it to use just yet. If we roam the streets of those neighborhoods or question its inhabitants we shall be drawing attention to ourselves. No, that will not do. But I shall take the information back to the Darcys and we shall ponder the problem together. I wish I could invite you to join us, Fennimore, but it is too great a risk.”

“I understand. And before you leave, Colonel Fitzwilliam, there is something else I must share with you. I never want you or Mr. Darcy to think me devious or underhanded in my dealings with your cousin. The truth is, Miss de Bourgh has become so much more than a patient to me. I love her very deeply and wish her to be my wife. It is true that we have spent a great deal of time alone together…alone in public, I mean. We would have a bite to eat or take a walk in the park, but I assure you that nothing improper ever happened between us,” said Fennimore with as earnest an expression as he could manage, given the images that were whirling about in his head. “I asked Anne if there was no one whom I could approach to make my intentions known, but she insisted that I wait. I hope you and Mr. Darcy understand the predicament I was in.”

Richard Fitzwilliam smiled and placed a hand on Fennimore’s shoulder. “No need to worry. I will admit that both Darcy and I have not always trusted you…ahem,” the Colonel cleared his throat. “That is putting it mildly,” he now joked, “but…since we have learned all that you have done for Anne…no, let me correct that—all that you have done for us, we cannot but admire you. Mrs. Darcy has always assured us that you are a truly fine gentleman and now we know it to be true. I look forward to calling you cousin, Fennimore.”

Simon Fennimore’s color deepened, his eyes became glossy. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam, as do I.”

“There is something else that we must discuss before I bid you good-night. I came from your parents’ home on Harley Street just now, and I’m afraid I intruded at a rather difficult time. I do not know the whole of it, but your father was in a rage concerning your sister. He is sending her to an aunt some time tomorrow, and for now she is confined to her room. I thought you should know the situation. Perhaps you can mediate a solution…or at least help lessen the severity of the punishment. Miss Fennimore is very distressed, as you can well imagine.”

“Mediate it?” Fennimore forced out a bitter and sarcastic laugh. “I am not even allowed in the house! My poor, sweet mother is forbidden to utter my name or to see me! Only Juliana defies my father and continues to treat me as she always has. No, I cannot help in that way, but I shall send off an express immediately so that she receives it upon her arrival at my aunt’s, and assure her that I will come and fetch her soon. If I bring her back immediately, my father will see it as defiance of his word and perhaps take even more drastic action. But if I allow Julie to remain there a month and then go and get her, he will at least feel that the punishment he meted out was accepted. Thank you for bringing me this news, Colonel. My sister will rest easy…perhaps, even enjoy the country, as long as she knows it is only for a short period of time.”

The Colonel nodded, then screwed up his face in thought. “Fennimore, would you like to see your sister and reassure her in person? I believe I can arrange it.”

Continued in Next Section