Beginning, Section I
Jump to new as of November 29, 1998
Jump to new as of December 1, 1998
Jump to new as of December 3, 1998
Part 11
Charles Bingley stepped out of his carriage and into Hell. He had spent part of the last hour collecting doctors, and now realized he had fallen short. Able to reach only two out of the three he had listed, Charles calculated it would be impossible for them to treat everyone in need of care. The fire had mercifully started late morning, while most people were awake or away. Charles could only guess at the horror, had it been at night.
He had been in similar tenements only twice, but the impression of the conditions were vivid in his mind. They were old, poorly designed structures. The landlords would often take five living units and turn them into ten to increase their profit. The families dwelling in these overcrowded conditions usually had only two rooms, and if they were lucky two windows.
What had concerned Charles the most was the lack of available exits. He was informed that the buildings involved today had only one or two doors on the ground floor. Anyone residing on the upper levels would have to go through the flames to get out. It was that, or jump.
"Yates," he called to his driver, "go to Mr. Davis and tell him I need more doctors."
"Yes, sir."
Charles quickly surveyed the damage around him. A haze had settled in the neighborhood due to the fire, causing him to blink to relieve the burning in his eyes. It appeared that two of the buildings were completely destroyed, with the third was still blazing. A long line of men passing buckets seemed to be moving with speed, so he need not concentrate his efforts there.
He determined that to get the women and children out of harm's way was his first priority. Hot ash and debris was floating in the air, covering the area in a gray dust. He spotted one of his men, and ran up to him.
"Have the warehouses been opened?"
"Yes, sir. We ordered two transports to deliver the goods. I believe we can house about three-quarters of the people there."
"Let us get some of these people moved then. The streets are too congested. We will split up and get the word out."
"Mr. Bingley, I think you should know there is speculation that another building will catch."
"Damn it. We will worry about that if it happens. Go!"
Charles started to work the crowd. Many were hesitant to leave the area, but as the smoke began to change direction, and visibility was lowering, they slowly migrated to his destination.
Charles spent the next two hours in constant motion. If he was not speaking with people, he was helping them carry whatever they were able to save to the warehouse three blocks away. In the process, he had thrown his jacket down. The heat from the day, combined with the fire, was becoming unbearable.
As he was attempting to convince an elderly woman of the need for her to leave, he caught sight of Fitzwilliam.
"Madam, you must get out of their way. There is nothing you can do right now. Please, go to the address I gave you, and let them tend you."
When she was finally on her way, he walked over to his friend. Fitzwilliam was aiding a young man with a burn on his leg. Charles wasted no time, and got to the point.
"Darcy, I need some of your household staff to help in the warehouse, will you give them to me?"
"Take all you need."
"Could you get word to them? I will take over for you here."
Fitzwilliam looked at Charles, and saw a weary relief in his expression. He had heard the area was almost completely cleared of everyone but the people helping put out the fire.
"Dr. Scott told me to apply this ointment to the cloth and wrap it lightly." Fitzwilliam showed him the technique, careful not to apply too much pressure. When he was finished, he handed Charles his supplies.
"Is there anything else you need?"
"No, I do not believe so. It looks as if the fourth building may be saved, but the third in completely demolished. With the help of your staff and mine, organizing and settling the homeless should go smoothly."
"I will be off."
"Darcy, thank you for your help. I will not be here much longer, go home to your wife, and stay."
Fitzwilliam was about to insist on returning, when Charles stopped him.
"The district has the fire under control. As soon as the final patients are moved, I will be at the warehouse. I will only be a few more hours."
"Very well, goodnight Charles."
"I do need another favor, Darcy. Will you get a message to Mrs. Austen? Here it is…."
As Charles neared the warehouse, he saw a familiar figure carrying a bucket with both her hands. There was dirt on the front of her gown, and she had a long smudge on her right cheek. He was having a hard time believing it was her, so he walked in her direction to find out.
"Caroline?"
"Charles!"
"What are you doing here?" His voice betrayed the shock he was experiencing. Of all the people, he never expected to see her.
Caroline set the bucket down heavily, causing dirty water to splash on her slippers. She growled to herself, and placed her hands on her hips.
"I believe that is evident. I am helping."
"Why? When?" Charles asked as he grabbed the handle to carry it for her.
"We are dumping them over there, " she pointed. "Why? Because I am. When? About an hour ago. When Yates was at the house, collecting the rest of the staff, I decided to join them." She did not like the appreciative smile her brother was giving her. She did not want him to be thankful Caroline had come down, because she knew it was the right thing to do.
"Do not look at me like that, Charles. I am not attempting to be a hero. I just thought, " she paused, thinking of something to say that would make him not think so well of her, "since the cook was leaving before dinner, I would have to come here to get any food."
Charles gave her a smirk.
"Work on your lying, sweet Caroline. You are not convincing." He always knew she had a heart under her rough exterior. "Tell me, what is the situation inside?"
"Other than Mr. Davis being a madman, everything is well organized. There are five and forty women and children inside--I know because Mr. Davis had me count them--twice! We are expecting at least seventeen more men. I was informed there were three deaths, which is a sad miracle in itself. Dr. Keeves was expecting a higher number."
Charles emptied the bucket, and offered Caroline his arm. They headed back, speaking quietly with each other.
"Charles, I sent word to Louisa that I will be staying with her tonight. I did not know when you would be home. I will return home after breakfast. "
"I agree with your decision. I do not want you alone in the house."
"You should know Mrs. Austen sent her staff along with Mr. Darcy's. Someone needs to check on her, she should not be alone either."
"Thank you. It was my intention all along." Charles knew when he promised Jane earlier that he would get word to her, it would be done by him.
For a man of one and twenty, Mr. Davis was a responsible, energetic, capable man. His voice was naturally gruff, which added to his commanding appearance. Charles had hired him as his steward's assistant, but the longer he conversed with the young man, the more he realized his talents were being wasted in the position.
Mr. Davis had orchestrated the relief effort with a strong, steady hand. If he found someone standing around, he gave them a task. When the food began to run short, he ordered more. A list was prepared with everyone's name and personal information. He was in control of every detail, keeping confusion at bay.
"Tomorrow, I want someone to find these people places to live. The Foundation will assist them with the rent." Charles told him.
"Consider it done, Mr. Bingley."
Charles left the man, and began to pitch in where he was needed. After a while, the people began settle down. He went back to Mr. Davis, to find out what remained to be done.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Sir, I am going to stay here throughout the night. The doctors will be leaving soon, and we are waiting for the men to return before we close the kitchen. The additional aid you sent is taking care of cleanup. At the moment, I can not come up with a duty."
The hour was late, and Caroline was getting tired. He needed to get her to Louisa's. Charles was comfortable with his trust of Mr. Davis abilities, and since the man did not have a family to go home to, he decided to leave.
"I am going to deliver Miss Bingley. I will be back in an hour."
"Sir, I do not see a reason for your return tonight. Why not get some rest yourself? I am able to manage."
"Thank you, Mr. Davis, I will. When we have this tragedy behind us, I want to speak with you about a position you would be well suited for." Charles had just found his new Foundation assistant.
The two men shook hands, and Charles fetched his sister. With one long look around, he went in search of his carriage.
Part 12
Jane had taken her shoes off. Her feet hurt from the pacing she had been doing. I should have received word by now. Fitzwilliam said it would be soon. Her heart began to beat harder when she heard a noise outside. It sounded like a carriage door.
She stood up and waited by the door for the messenger.
Two Hours Earlier.
As soon as the door closed, Jane was out of her chair. She ran down the hall, stopping abruptly when she saw her brother in-law.
Fitzwilliam recalled his wife's instructions, and began speaking right away.
"Mr. Bingley sent me to tell you he will be going home shortly, and will send you a message as soon as he is there. When I last saw him, he was at the warehouse and in perfect health." Fitzwilliam smiled broadly at her.
Charles was very explicit in his wording when he asked Fitzwilliam to call on Jane.
"Thank you, Fitzwilliam. May I ask how the effort is going?"
"From what I could tell, very well. Charles has set up a makeshift shelter for the homeless, and supplied them with medical care and the necessities. He has his household staff down there working, and I am going to send most of mine. The district government was taking over the operation when I left. It will not be long."
"Hello." Charles said softly.
Jane had not expected to see him when she opened the door. The small smile that crept across her face was insufficient to express her joy. Not only was he safe, but he was standing in front of her. Jane did a quick sweep of his person, looking for any signs of injury, but there were none. Only the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.
"Charles, please come in."
While Jane closed the door, Charles looked around the hall. It was completely still and quiet in the house, with only a few candles lit to cast light. When she turned around, he wrapped his arms around her. He knew he was taking liberties with his action, but at the moment he need to hold her. If he never experienced another day like this one, it would still be too soon.
Jane responded by leaning into him, resting her head against his shoulder. She was amazed how well they fit together.
As he held her close to him, an overwhelming sense of love enveloped his tired body, making him want to hold on tighter. In all of his thirty years, Charles had never felt such a deep a desire to love and be loved.
"Sweet, beautiful Jane." He whispered.
She kissed him on the cheek. He was dirty, and smelled of smoke, but Jane did not notice. He was home.
"I am going to ruin your gown."
"I do not care." She pulled back her head to look at him. "You look tired, Charles. Are you hungry?"
"Yes, I am."
"Follow me." Jane took his hand and led him toward the kitchen.
"Charles?" She asked when they were almost there.
"Yes?"
"Where is your coat?"
He let out a laugh. "I do not know."
The mood was lightened by the time they entered the kitchen. Jane filled a basin of warm water for him to clean up with. As he was washing his hands, she went to Mr. Austen's room to get him a clean shirt.
"Charles, here is one of Papa's shirts. I believe you are both close to the same size."
Charles took the shirt, and raised his eyebrows in mock embarrassment. Jane understood his meaning.
"I will turn around." She laughed.
True to her word, she did turn around while he finished washing off.
Jane made a plate for Charles and herself, and they sat together in the kitchen while they ate. Jane was famished, since she was unable to eat earlier, and Charles had nothing since breakfast. They did not speak a great deal during this time, but enjoyed the quiet between them.
When finished, Jane asked Charles if he would like to sit in a more comfortable room.
"No, thank you. I do not want to soil the furniture. Jane, are you and your children alone in the house tonight?"
"No, Mr. Thomas has returned and is in his quarters."
"Good." He had been concerned about that. He would have willingly stayed with her tonight, but did not want to compromise her reputation--should anyone notice him leaving in the morning.
"I should be going home now."
Jane nodded her head in agreement, but her eyes reflected sadness. She could hardly tolerate his never being able to stay long. A few hours here and there were not enough.
Charles saw her disappointed expression. He, too, hated to be going, but what other option was there. As he pulled her hand into his, he knew it was time to broach the subject he had been avoiding. If she were not inclined to say yes, he was not certain what he would do. He had no doubt of her love for him, but was she willing to marry him?
"Jane, I want to ask you something. Before I do, I want to say a few things. I understand it is your duty to look out for the well-being of your children, and to preserve the Austen name. Evan is the last Austen male in his line, and he should be taught the ways of his family. I do not think any one person should disrupt his heritage. Mr. Austen was correct in placing his trust in your abilities." Charles took a deep breath and continued.
"The other day while we were talking in your study, you stated that you were not looking for a proposal. But, Jane, I am having a difficult time accepting this." Charles pulled her closer to him. "It is almost impossible for me to have to leave you night after night. More than anything else, I want to be able to stay with you…every night."
"Charles, when I said that I was not looking for a proposal, I was implying that you did not have to marry me because we made love. I did not want you to think you were under any obligation. In response to your concern for the children, I do not see how having an honorable, patient, loving man in their lives can be anything but beneficial. "
"Does this mean…?" Charles looked into her eyes, as if he could extract an answer from them.
"If you ask, I will be yours."
Charles led her to a seat, and waited as she sat down. He felt an odd lump in his throat that would not go away when he swallowed. As he went down on one knee, he caught a glimpse of Jane's face. Small pools of tears were forming in her eyes, glittering in the candlelight. His hand began to shake ever so slightly a he reached for hers.
"Jane, I love you. Will you marry me?"
She blinked, sending the teardrops downward.
"I will." Jane's smile lit up her face. She was truly happy.
Charles brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them. The unmistakable joy he felt in his heart was almost too much for him. He would be married tomorrow, if he thought it was possible.
"Soon?"
"As soon as it can be arranged." She shared his desire not to wait for a long engagement.
For the next half-hour, they sat in the comfort of the kitchen and made their plans together--homes, settlements, wills, and lawyers. To an outsider looking in, it may not seem very romantic, but for Jane and Charles, it was heavenly.
Sensing he was becoming weary, Jane suggested they finish their conversation tomorrow. Arm in arm, they walked to the door. Jane carried a candle to light the way; Charles carried his dirty shirt.
She sat the candle down on the table and tuned to him. She was thankful for the fact it would not be much longer until he would no longer have to leave once the hour became late.
"Goodnight, Charles." She reached up and gave him a short kiss. "I love you."
"Goodnight, Jane" He dropped his shirt, and held her tight. "I love you."
"The carriage will be here in a minute." Jane whispered close to his ear. She felt him squirm after she said the words.
"Jane, maybe we should not be alone for the next two weeks. My resolve to behave like a gentleman crumbles when you do that." He whispered back.
"I concur. I was just thinking of a respectable reason why we could push the date back."
"Did you think of any?" He did not wait for an answer as his lips covered hers.
The sound of the carriage broke them apart.
"No, I think your suggestion of crowds is our safest route." She reached down and picked up his shirt as he opened the door. "I believe I will dream sweet dreams tonight."
Charles remembered his dream about her, after their night together. He was curious to know if she had an experience like his.
"Have you dreamed about me before?" Charles gave her a mysterious look.
"Yes," she admitted, a little embarrassed, "one in particular, was after we..." Jane raised her eyebrows to indicate the unmentionable.
The grin on his face dropped, and he leaned closer to her.
"I did too. I do not think yours could have been better than mine."
Jane pressed her forehead against his and laughed.
"You had better go home while you still can."
Conclusion
With Fitzwilliam's blessings, Jane and Charles were united in marriage in Pemberley Chapel two days after Georgiana Darcy.
During the ceremony, Elizabeth remarked to her husband how calm the couple appeared. The reason for this was simple--there was not a doubt between them.
If you are apt to think of Heaven as above…
Up above the clouds, in a place where no man shall reside, but all souls will gather; two joyful beings stood side by side. They were looking into a spherical object atop a short column.
"Father, I do believe she will be happy for the rest of her life."
"Yes, Son. We did well. Both of the girls are happy."
The men watched contentedly as the couple below was pronounced man and wife.
"Your children have grown, Son."
"They are his children now, and will be well taken care of. He loves them."
Another figure approached the two. She took the arm of each, and smiled.
"Shall we go? We are no longer needed there."
The first man chuckled.
"Mother, did you peek into the future again?"
With a wink, she led them away.
An Ending.
Charles and Jane were very happy, indeed. The bond between the two of them was strong, and their devotion remained throughout the years.
Unlike her own Mother, Jane was not destined to have a house full of children. Four years after marrying Charles, Jane gave birth to her final child--a healthy son.
Much to the dismay of the attending doctor, Charles was there during the entire ordeal--holding her hand. Jane wanted him with her, Charles refused to leave her alone, and the argument was over before it began.
Charles was never disappointed there were not more children. He felt his life was complete with the three he had. He would always remember the first time Andrea called him Daddy--it was shortly after he had moved into Austen House. Evan took a little longer, going from Mr. Bingley, to Charles, and finally father. Being the only father Andrea ever knew, and Evan would remember; he loved them as if they were his own.
Evan Austen grew from an inquisitive child into an inquisitive man. He followed the road of a scholar, with the blessing of his parents. His talent with all things mechanical resulted in his owning many useful patents in his lifetime. The Austen line did not end with Evan; he fathered four sons to carry on the family name.
Andrea Austen matured into a beautiful young woman. It would be her, who would someday take over the duties of the Foundation. She was bright, compassionate, and full of energy. These qualities attracted many would-be suitors. Much to the relief of her Father, Andrea chose well. And yes, she did eventually learn to use her spoon.
Ethan Charles Bingley must have been born under a lucky sign. Everything he touched turned to gold. His innate business ability benefited him greatly throughout his long life. He remained a bachelor until his mid-thirties, when he literally fell over his future wife on a crowded street. (Hum…divine intervention?)
Caroline, well…Caroline never saw it coming. She fell in love with 'the last man on earth she would ever marry.' She was also a wonderful mother to four children. The lessons she had learned in life were never repeated by her offspring, she made certain of it.
Their combined lives did contain ups and downs, sorrows and joys. But, in the end, it did not seem very important. They were a family who would go to the ends of the earth for each other, and at times-they did.
The End.