Section I, Next Section
Julianne Philips had never been an idealist. In fact, she prided herself on being a down-to-earth, practical person, and it was in this spirit that she had entered the married state with Robert Darcy. She had been well aware that there union would be a continuous cycle of ups and downs but was also determined to make life as happy as possible for her husband and also for herself.
And so it was. After an idyllic honeymoon in Scotland, she and Robert had gone to Haydon, their home, where they were welcomed by Phillip Darcy. There, Julianne had tried to adjust to her new role as wife and mistress to the estate as quickly as possible. There were times where she found the duties to be too difficult for her, and tempers had flared between the young master and his equally headstrong new wife with many angry words being said from both sides. But as the weeks turned into months, and with the wise counsel of Robert's father, who with unlimited patience had always been there to help out in the trials of the newly wed, their tempers went through a material change. They became both milder in opinion and definitely more compromising and, as Julianne mused, their marriage had been a success indeed - so far.
She was still violently in love with her husband and was sure that Robert loved her to the same extent. However, if this was wholly true, when did things start to fall apart? When had she lost complete control of her marriage? And why was she standing alone in the dark house, trying to catch a glimpse of her husband's departing carriage in the morning mist, without even knowing when he was to return?
4 Months Earlier ...
Whoever lived in the whereabouts of Oxford University would be familiar with the cheerful young gentleman who, books in hand, would daily whistle his way to the lodgings he shared with an equally amiable young student. All the families who lived in that part of the town were at least slightly acquainted with the handsome Jeremy Philips and his friendly smile, which he bestowed upon everyone who happened to cross his way. Most of them were also familiar with the gossip that surrounded his family and especially that which concerned its connections with the illustrious Darcys.
In fact, not only his cousin Elizabeth Bennet had made an advantageous match with Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, but it was also known that his own twin sister, had forged herself a comfortable future by becoming the wife of Robert Darcy of Haydon, cousin to the Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire. The most malicious of these news divulgers also hinted that there might be a liaison between him and the only remaining Darcy - Georgiana but the most sensible declared these rumours to be unfounded and most improbable. After all, Jeremy Philips was just a law student, son of a country attorney, and definitely not powerful and great enough to attract the lady in question, and least of all cajole a blessing from her brother.
The young man himself, however, was totally oblivious of the aura of mystery that had been created about him as he sauntered quickly through the snow-covered streets to the house in which he and Gordon Mackay had rented their rooms. All he wanted was a warm supper and a quiet evening in the company of his best friend before leaving the following day to celebrate Christmas with some relatives.
The house he lived in was owned by a middle-aged widow, Mrs. Higgins, who, on her husband's early decease had made a living for herself by renting out rooms, most often to young Oxford students. She was always very friendly with her lodgers but she was particularly fond of both Mr. Philips and Mr. Mackay. They were noisy, careless young men, but she had to admit that the whole house seemed to come alive with the entrances of the future lawyer and doctor, who seemed to look up to her as a second mother.
Jeremy entered the house and was greeted warmly by the landlady. "Good evening Jeremy Philips! How was your day today?" she asked.
"Oh, terrible, as usual," he lied good-naturedly.
"I'm sorry to hear that," she replied with equal equanimity. "But I have a treat for you and Mr. Mackay, to help you get through the evening. Your favourite is for dinner."
Jeremy gave her his typical bear hug; propriety had been excluded a long time before in this easy relationship. "Oh Mrs. Higgins! What could we ever do without you?" he exclaimed.
The lady pushed him off, rather embarrassed. "Be off with you!" she cried, shooing him off. "Mr. Mackay has been in your rooms this last hour!"
At that moment, they heard a large, resounding crash from the first floor, and the entire house seemed to shake. Jeremy groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh NO! Don't tell me he is packing?"
Mrs. Higgins nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so, sir" she said ominously.
Jeremy ran to the stairs, preparing himself to rush up. "I'll better go up before he destroys the whole house," he informed her frantically.
"Wait sir! Shall I tell Mary to carry your dinner upstairs?"
He stopped for a second and gave her an affectionate smile. "Mrs. Higgins, you should know by now that we wouldn't let you eat dinner on your own if we can help it!" he answered.
"Yes, Mr. Philips, I know that," she said slowly as she saw him running up the stairs. Being without children, she shook her head, thinking how much she would miss the young Sirs, who were as dear as sons, during the Christmas season.
Jeremy opened the door cautiously, preparing himself for the worst. To say that their rooms were usually untidy would be an understatement, but now, the sight that beheld him as he entered was one of a total mess. There were three trunks wide open on the floor (there was the crash, he said to himself with a sigh) and clothes and Gordon's belongings were strewn all over the room. His friend seemed totally unperturbed by the chaos he had managed to create and was walking around, deep in thought, occasionally throwing a shirt, or a waistcoat, or even an idle boot, in one of the trunks. Jeremy flinched when he saw Gordon throwing an old shoe in the same trunk as his freshly laundered shirt and secretly thanked the heavens that he had the sense to pack his own trunks the day before. He had had direct experience of his friend's "accidental" misappropriations and it was not the first time that he had found a garment of his own lodged in the very bottom of Gordon's closets or suitcases. It was not the case that the Scotsman was a thief; he was just too absent-minded and scatterbrained to realize the difference between his belongings and that of his best friend.
Jeremy tried to find a space in which to put his feet without treading on some particular item that was lying on the floor, but failing to do so, he decided to go ahead and made his way to where his friend was pensively stuffing something or other in the trunk that was lying next to him. "I will never understand your packing, Mackay," he said sighing. "Honest to God, I can not."
Gordon gave him a grin. "It's all a question of technique, Philips," he explained.
"Technique? And I always thought you didn't have one. Silly me!" replied his friend sarcastically. "Is that a sleeve sticking out from under my bed?"
"Must be," answered Gordon obligingly. "Oh Jeremy, I can't wait for tomorrow to come. To think that I'll be passing Christmas with the Bennets!"
"With Kitty, you mean," teased Jeremy with a roll of the eyes. "Admit it, you wouldn't care a jot if all the other Bennets were not there!"
"I will let you know that I happen to like the family very much," he answered with mock anger. "But I have to admit, spending two weeks in the company of my fiancée is something to look forward to."
"Fiancée? Since when?' asked Jeremy scornfully.
"As from tomorrow, when I will formally ask for her hand," was the happy reply.
Jeremy bit his lip. He couldn't help feeling rather jealous. He was deeply in love with Georgiana Darcy and fortunately the feeling was mutual, but they had both agreed with her brother not to divulge any news until Jeremy had finished school and was able to support himself and his beloved. Though he never doubted that he would indeed marry Georgiana, he would have liked to plan and share his happiness with anyone other than an intimate friend.
Gordon sensed his mate's discomfort and changed the subject. "So, where are you to spend Christmas?" he asked.
Jeremy gave him a mock glare. "I've been telling you for days. I'm going to stay with the Darcys."
"Really? Do give my love to your sister when you reach Haydon," he said, misunderstanding him.
His friend looked away. "It's not with those Darcys I'm spending Christmas," he explained rather brusquely. "It's with the others."
Gordon looked at him, rather surprised. "I always thought you and Julianne to be inseparable," he remarked. "Is she going to be on her own in Northinghamshire?"
"On her own! Don't be silly! She has a husband and father-in-law as company," Jeremy replied quickly. "Gordon, I don't think you are totally reconciled to the fact that your friend and my sister is grown up now. To be sure, we are twins and all, but we both now have separate lives to lead. It has always been like that with siblings, and so it shall always be!" The other looked at him doubtfully. The Mackays were a numerous close-knit family, and Gordon had even convinced them to travel all together to Hertfordshire to meet his future bride. He couldn't quite understand how Jeremy and Julianne, who had been so close throughout their childhood and adolescence, would have let their relationship degenerate to such an extent. Seeing Gordon's look, Jeremy hastened add, "Listen, you are making a big thing out of nothing! It's just a question of convenience! We both know that Haydon is much further away from this region than Pemberley! It would take me almost a week to get there and come back!"
"I guess you're right," replied his roommate, with a small grin.
"If it makes you feel better," continued Jeremy jokingly. "I will visit my sister in summer. Better now?"
Gordon pushed him off, pretending to be angry. "Anyway, I don't know what you did, but I have sent her my Christmas greetings!" he said.
"Don't you worry, Mackay, I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are going to spend a lovely Christmas without any interfering relatives!" he replied. "Now, shall we get on with your packing?"
"Mrs. Darcy, if you have not informed your husband's relatives of Mr. Darcy's condition, I should advise you to do so as quickly as possible," said the doctor gravely.
Julianne looked at him sadly. "Is it so bad?" she asked softly.
"Ma'am, it's a matter of days now," Doctor Westacott replied. He was very uncomfortable in his position as an informer and would have preferred to break the news to Robert Darcy, rather than his wife, but he was afraid that the Master (he almost flinched when remembering that Haydon was soon to lose her old Master) was not taking his father's sudden collapse very well. To be honest, Mrs. Darcy seemed to bear the strain better, though her pale, tired face worried him. At least however, she was being more receptive.
"Madam, would you like me to inform Mr. Darcy's relatives?" he insisted.
Julianne suddenly recalled herself and her duties. "No, I thank you Mr. Westacott, I will do that myself directly," she lied absently.
As the doctor left, she ran her hands through her tangled hair and closed her eyes in fatigue. It was useless writing to Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam now that nothing could be done. There was no use in ruining their Christmas. She entered Phillip Darcy's bedchamber and found Robert in exactly the same position as she had seen him in the last three days. He was sitting on a chair next to his father's bed, waiting for something that he dreaded. Julianne could hardly believe that just four days ago they had been laughing and skating with the all the villagers of Stanhope on the frozen lake in the vicinity. Then came Phillip Darcy's sudden collapse. It seemed so long ago...and her husband had not been like this, unresponsive, totally oblivious to his surroundings. His eyes, which had looked at her so often with love, laughter, anger or passion, were now totally vacant -- like dead she thought with a pang.
She walked slowly towards Robert and ran her fingers through his black hair. "Robert, there is nothing we can do," she said, her voice breaking. "Please, go and have some rest," she urged him.
Robert just shook his head and murmured something unintelligible. Knowing that all her attempts would be in vain, his wife walked to the window, where she could see the snow falling slowly and covering the beautiful land that surrounded the manor. She started crying and did not even try to stifle her sobs, fully aware that her husband probably wouldn't notice anyway. She brushed away a tear with her hand and sighed unhappily.
This was going to be a Christmas to remember.
Elizabeth ran down the stairs, surveying with great pride the decorations that now graced the interior of the house. Mrs. Reynolds had helped her a great deal to make sure that all the decorations were in good taste and not too flashy and now Pemberley was in all it's elegance and grace ready to welcome the Christmas season. As she passed through her husband's study, she thought she could hear the sound of voices, or actually Darcy's voice, and this puzzled her momentarily because she knew that he was not expecting visitors and was all the more certain that the Master of Pemberley did not indulge in poetic monologues and soliloquies. So, very bemused, she took to eavesdropping behind the oak door.
"Come on Ben, it's really easy, anyone is capable of doing it!" Darcy's voice said. Elizabeth, still at a loss, listened carefully. "Why! Even grandma Bennet does it occasionally!"
Not able to contain her curiosity any longer, Elizabeth opened the door suddenly and saw Darcy kneeling down and holding Ben on his two legs, probably to be able to look at his son in the eye. "Also, it is very convenient," concluded the father reasonably.
"Fitzwilliam? What is it that grandma Bennet does?" asked Elizabeth, amused. "And what on earth are you trying to do to our son?"
Darcy gave her a sheepish grin. "Dearest, I'm trying to teach Benjamin how to walk."
Whatever it was that his wife and thought and wanted to do, it was limited to an elegant arch of the eyebrow. "Darling, surely those long years of tutoring and study at Cambridge thought you that children just learn how to walk without being taught?" she teased as she walked towards them and knelt down next to her husband.
"I know that," Darcy replied, rather piqued. "But Ben seems to be taking too long to do it and I was only trying to illustrate the ease and advantages."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and ruffled her dear son's dark curls. "There isn't a Darcy tradition that says that a tutor should be employed to teach toddlers how to walk, is there? And besides, love, I was about Ben's age when I started to walk and you know very well that from that time, I never seemed to stop doing so!"
Darcy couldn't help smiling before turning his attention to his son. "Let's try this one more time, shall we Darcy-boy?" he asked before slowly releasing his hold from his son's little body. Ben stood for a couple of seconds on his two feet, and then determinedly seated himself back again on the plush carpet. Father and son stood in silent contemplation while the mother tried hard not to burst out laughing as she looked affectionately at her two boys.
Ben looked at his father's eyes for a moment, and then at his little feet. "Ben. Walk," he said doubtfully and looked at Darcy for confirmation.
"Yes, Ben, walk, not talk," said his father, though he couldn't help grinning proudly as he always did every time Benjamin opened his mouth to say anything. "Or else do both at the same time," he added cheerfully.
Ben looked at his father, with a small frown on his angelic face. "Granma Bennet?" he asked suddenly.
Darcy burst into fits of laughter at his son's innocent but well-placed comment. He had had many an experience of Mrs. Bennet twirling around him while suggesting uses for his "ten thousand a year!" Elizabeth tried to look offended and pouted. "This is all your influence, Fitzwilliam," she said.
"Maybe," her husband admitted, and again regarded his son. "Benjamin, if you don't work on it, your cousin James will be running all over the place before you!"
Elizabeth gave him a playful slap. "I knew there was something!" she cried. "Fitzwilliam, you are so competitive, you should be ashamed of yourself," she added laughing. "Bingley's James is a full year younger than Ben, so don't be absurd!" Seeing that her husband was offering no reply, other than innocent, wide-open eyes, she stood up and turned towards her son. "Come to Mother dear, we're off to the nursery till your papa regains back his good sense."
Before she could reach out to carry her son, Ben calmly got up and walked slowly towards his mother. The young parents stared in amazement, first at their son, and then at each other. "You have to explain how you did that!" cried Darcy in utter astonishment, feeling not a little jealous.
Elizabeth shook her head weakly. "I don't know dear. It might be the result of your pleading, you know." She bent down and pulled up Ben, who gave his father a triumphant look. "Ben, walk ," he said with emphasis.
Darcy gave his wife a look. "For one so young, he seems to be remarkably impudent," he remarked.
"I quite agree, love, I wonder where he takes it from!" she answered, quickly.
He shrugged, still feeling a little hurt in pride. "Well, since my utter uselessness has been acknowledged by all, I think I will return to my work," he said half seriously.
Before he could reach his desk he felt a small tug on his sleeve and turned around to stare at the sweet face of his son. Ben gave him a dimpled grin and leaned over to reach for his father. "Love papa," he said and melted Darcy's heart on the spot.
He hugged him tightly and stared lovingly at his wife. "Elizabeth, you and I have managed to breed a manipulator," he said shaking his head.
Elizabeth looked at the scenario happily, marveling at the comradeship that existed between her husband and Ben. "We have to leave you now to your work, dear," she announced. "I have to help Georgiana in choosing a gown to wear for Jeremy's arrival."
Darcy rolled his eyes and groaned. "That's pathetic," he said scornfully.
"No it's not!" she answered indignantly. "They are just in love," she added, with a meaningful look.
"Well, speaking about love," her husband began, and bent down to kiss her, with Ben still comfortably lodged in his arms.
Elizabeth stifled a happy giggle and tried to resist his tempting lips. "In front of Ben?" she asked in alarm.
Darcy winked at her and pulled her towards him with his free arm. "Of course dearest, I want my son and heir to know just how it is done," he said grinning wickedly. After they parted, he gave his son a loving kiss on his unruly curls and handed him to his mother, while he reluctantly walked over to his desk and its piling correspondence.
Jeremy' carriage arrived later that afternoon, and the Darcys went out to greet him, though, to say the truth, Elizabeth and Darcy were not even noticed at first. Georgiana was the object of his attention, and a very willing one at that. Jeremy took her hand politely and raised it to his lips, though what they both had in mind greatly exceeded this modest display of affection. "I'm glad to see you again Miss Darcy," he began.
Darcy, who was standing respectfully with his wife and son at a little distance, overheard him and snorted. "Miss Darcy, indeed!" he mumbled. "I wonder why they keep up this charade!"
Elizabeth gave him a stern look. "Behave yourself Fitzwilliam," she scolded. "Or I might even send you to spend the rest of the day in the nursery with Ben!"
Darcy looked down at his son, who was standing between them, holding with one hand to his mother's dress, and with the other to his father's tails. He gave him an affectionate pat on the head and turned to Elizabeth saying, "As if that ever bothered me!"
As if seeming to sense that his father had said something nice about him, Ben suddenly let go of his mother's dress and gave his father's leg a warm hug. The concept of equality must have been already imprinted in his young mind because no sooner had he done that, he offered his mamma the same treatment. Elizabeth looked at Darcy happily, while he beamed back at her. "You know," she began. "This is the third Christmas we are passing together, and they are always getting better."
Jeremy came over to them and he was greeted warmly. He even managed to gain the favour of the young child, most probably with the aid of the enormous stuffed toy that he had wisely stacked in his carriage. Whatever the reason, "Uncle Jelly" was on his way to become a firm favourite.
As soon as they were inside the house, Georgiana linked her arm comfortably with Jeremy's and whispered in his ear for him to join her in the music room in ten minutes' time. "I've got something to tell you," she added enticingly and went along her merry way leaving behind a beau bursting with anticipation.
Georgiana clung to Jeremy, happily savouring his warm, passionate kisses. It had been so long since they had last met, and even longer since they had even spent some time alone. With every meeting, behaving according to propriety and norms was becoming increasingly difficult, and when they reluctantly broke apart, they looked at each other with a slight blush, before looking down. "What was it that you wanted to tell me, Georgiana?" asked Jeremy curiously.
Georgiana blushed even deeper and gave him a shy smile. "Nothing. I lied," she admitted. Jeremy looked at her adoringly, happy to see that his beloved shared his same feelings but did not say anything. Seeing that, she mustered all her courage and went on. "This is getting so difficult for me, Jeremy. How long will it be before we can be finally married?"
He looked away guiltily before answering. "I'll be through University in about a year and a half, but still, it will be a few years before I can secure myself a decent position that will support us both."
"Jeremy, we have discussed this many time, you know that I can provide for --"
"Yes we have discussed this already," he interrupted. "And, Georgiana, we will always reach the same conclusion. I will not use on shilling of your fortune if I can help it. It won't be circulated around that you have married a pauper!"
"Don't be absurd Jeremy," she retaliated. "You and I are fortunate enough not to even know the meaning of the word! Besides, I'll be twenty-one very soon and then I'll decide what to do with my money!"
Jeremy took her hand and gazed earnestly in her eyes. "Listen Georgiana, I was not born a gentleman, and I'm working very hard to become one, or at least, as close to one as I can get. This is very important for me, can you understand that? A gentleman does not depend on his wife for support or charity!" he concluded disdainfully.
Georgiana was going to retort that a gentleman should also know his limitations but decided to keep quiet. Jeremy's behaviour and narrow-minded ideas angered her greatly but she was still too insecure about herself and their relationship to speak her mind whenever she felt the need to do so. Seeing her rather uncomfortable, Jeremy kissed her lightly, trying to ease the tension. "My love, this is the only time we'll be able to stay alone during my stay. Do you really want to ruin it with a quarrel?" he asked gently.
Georgiana shook her head and gave him a small smile. "Good," he continued. "Now we can cross that bridge when we come to it!"
Georgiana snuggled again in her beau's arms and thoughtfully chewed her lip.
Yes, Jeremy, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'll make sure that we'll cross it together!"
Christmas at Pemberley was a merry affair. The Darcy's were visited by the Bingley's and their infant James, as well as the Gardiners, as was the "tradition" every year. Ben seemed to like his new cousin, though at first he was quite put out by the attention he was getting by his own dear parents. He was pacified by his father however, when he told him in secret that he still loved him more than little James Bingley. After that, he looked at the baby with a more amicable eye, and made him cry only once.
Two days later, all the family and guests were seated at the breakfast table, when suddenly the butler entered and silently handed Darcy a letter.
"Who is it from?" asked Elizabeth curiously, while she was trying to cajole her son to have a glass of milk.
Darcy opened it eagerly. "It's from Robert and Julianne," he answered. "They haven't written in weeks, I wondered what had happened!" All the family waited eagerly for the news of their young relatives of Haydon, and suddenly noticed that Darcy had gone pale, and that his eyes had filled with pain.
Elizabeth grabbed his arm tightly. "What is it dear?"
Her husband looked at her, dazed. "It's my uncle Phillip," he began. "He died early on Christmas day."
Phillip Darcy's funeral took place on the eve of the day that was to usher in the new year eighteen hundred and seventeen. Although it was a cold, cloudy day and Robert had insisted on it being a private family affair, all the tenants and a lot of the villagers of Stanhope had come to pay their final homage to the kind Master that had helped and respected them for so many years. The immediate family of Mr. Darcy, consisting of course of Robert and Julianne, Darcy, Elizabeth and Georgiana, was all present. Jeremy was obviously also there, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Philips. For once, Julianne's mother did not say a word but allowed her more tactful husband to comfort his daughter on the loss of a most beloved father-in-law. Robert chose to stay apart from all the rest and just stood standing in front of the grave that forever separated him from his father.
Elizabeth studied her cousin and her husband sorrowfully. Julianne, not yet twenty-one, looked young and frail in the black dress she was wearing. Robert, in his four and twenty years, was hardly more than a boy himself. It was a great shame that after so many years of estrangement, he and his father would reunite only to be cruelly separated after such a short time. Elizabeth worried about them living so far off from the rest of the family, and wondered how they were going to manage all the responsibilities of an estate and of a marriage that was barely a year old without the love and care of the wise Phillip Darcy.
Her husband's thoughts were very similar. This funeral had been so far a very painful experience for Darcy, not only because of the loss of a most respected and loved uncle, but also because he was reliving once again the loss and devastation he had felt when he had lost his own father almost ten years before, and he had been left all alone to take care of Pemberley and a twelve year old sister, whom he would have had to lead through all the difficult passages of adolescence, without being fully past them himself. As Julianne approached them slowly, and he bent down to give her a consoling kiss on the cheek, he gave a small sigh. He didn't have Elizabeth to love him at the time, and at least Robert had a wife who though young, was also strong, brave and mature beyond her years.
Elizabeth pulled her cousin towards her in a loving hug and tried to soothe her as she wept bitter tears. Darcy decided that it was time to leave the two women to themselves for a little while and to try and console his own cousin in the best way he could, so he left them silently and walked hesitantly towards the tall, still figure that stood tearless and emotionless staring over and over again at the inscription on the white marble that now housed the late Master.
"Oh Elizabeth, thank you so much for coming today," said Julianne softly as soon as she composed herself enough to speak coherently.
Her cousin put a gentle hand to her wet cheek. "Julianne, I couldn't have lived with myself knowing that you are here in your grief without being able to give you all my comfort," she replied, her own voice breaking.
"I know that, Lizzy, but I still appreciate your coming here, especially since you had to leave poor Ben behind."
Elizabeth gave a small sigh when she remembered her son's dear face as he stood at the window waving them goodbye, trying to look brave although tears were streaming down his cheeks. However, she managed to give Julianne a small smile as a thought came to her mind. "Would you and Robert like to come to Pemberley for a few weeks? You know, to get away for a little while," she urged, seeing her cousin's doubtful expression.
Julianne shook her head though she looked gratefully at her. "I thank you very much, Elizabeth," she began. "But Robert would never consent to leaving Haydon for now and I must stay here to give him all the comfort I can."
Jeremy, who had been standing silently next to Georgiana all this time suddenly gave a backward glance at Robert, who was giving them all his back, and glared at them all angrily. "What about you, sister? Will your husband give you the comfort you need?"
Julianne, Elizabeth and Georgiana looked at him, taken aback at his sudden outburst. His sister looked down, and Elizabeth guessed that maybe not all was right between the newlyweds at the moment. "Of course he will comfort me, Jeremy," she mumbled. "Robert has just lost his father, give him some time!" Jeremy looked away, fuming, but didn't answer her so she turned once again towards her cousin and Georgiana. "Lizzy, Georgiana, please promise me that you will come to visit us in Easter! I really count on it, unless of course, you don't plan to go to London for the season," she added.
Georgiana nodded eagerly and Elizabeth smiled. "Julianne, Ben is too young to be taken to London at the moment, and I think nothing will suit him better than spending a sunny spring in Northinghamshire," she said. "So, I can speak for me and for Fitzwilliam in saying that we will be here in spring," she concluded with a warm hug.
Darcy and Robert stood for a long while in silence, the former still not too sure of what he could say to make a difference in his cousin's unhappy situation, and the latter was hardly even aware of Darcy's presence, or so he thought, until Robert spoke out. "How can one small inscription attempt to show all a person's life and accomplishments?" he asked rhetorically, still looking straight at the marble stone.
Darcy was surprised to hear Robert speak. "I don't think an inscription on a grave can do that, Rob," he answered. "That is ultimately up to us and to our memories."
Robert stood for another little while in silence till he said, "I'm on my own now, Fitzwilliam."
Darcy shook his head and put a comforting hand on his cousin's shoulder. "No you're not on your own! You have us and most importantly, you have a wonderful wife by your side," he said reassuringly.
The other straightened his back and shook Darcy's hand off his shoulder. "Darcy I may not necessarily be on my own, but what I mean is that that is how I want it to be!" With that, he walked briskly to the stone steps that led to the back of the house, unaware that his wife had heard all that he had just said and was looking at him, hurt, while her brother was glaring at him fiercely.
The party that left Haydon in the Darcy carriage was a forlorn one. Darcy and Elizabeth were too worried about what had happened to be very pleasant company and Georgiana and Jeremy were having problems of their own. In fact, Georgiana had been very perturbed by what had taken place after the funeral. She had realized that the marriage between her cousin and Julianne was in a very precarious position and had honestly been shocked. All the marriages she witnessed in her life, like the one between her late parents, her brother's and the Bingleys seemed all to be very happy. She couldn't believe that two people so very much in love as Julianne and Robert had been could be passing from such a difficult period in their union, and was frankly having some doubts about her eventual union with Jeremy. Her beau noticed that something was wrong with her and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Unfortunately for Georgiana, his touch for once did not give her comfort, and unfortunately for Jeremy, he noticed it.
Gordon MacKay looked up at the sound of his friend's noisy footsteps as he climbed up the stairs. Jeremy burst into the room, dripping wet and in a very bad humour. He shook the droplets from his hair, and tossed his dripping coat in the corner of the room, muttering loudly to himself.
"Hello Jeremy," said Gordon tentatively. "Welcome back."
Jeremy made a face. "Don't dare ask about my Christmas holidays," he growled menacingly.
His friend had known him for a number of years by now and had worked out a clever way to treat him. "Listen," he began. "I heard about Mr. Darcy's death and I already wrote a letter of condolence to Julianne and Robert, so you don't have to talk about it at all, all right?"
Jeremy gave him a small, grateful smile and treaded his way through the wayward objects that were strewn all over the place to reach his friend's desk. "Gordon, studying reproduction again? I do believe you're obsessed!" he teased as he looked over his shoulder.
Gordon blushed deep red and glared at Jeremy indignantly. "I'm studying biology, Jeremy, which leads to MEDICINE, something which is not so unusual since I am going to be a doctor!"
The other laughed and patted him on the back. "Still looks like reproduction to me! Must I change rooms tonight?" he laughed.
Gordon gave him a playful hit with the enormous book he was reading. "Glad to see you so cheerful all of a sudden," he remarked wryly.
Jeremy made his way to his own desk, where a large pile of correspondence awaited him. "You have that effect on me MacKay," he said. "I guess it must have the same effect on Kitty, doesn't it?" Before Gordon could formulate a reply, he saw Jeremy frown over a letter he was reading. "Damn!" he murmured softly.
"What is it, Philips?" asked Gordon, worried and went quickly near him, reading from behind his shoulder. His eyes skimmed quickly through the words. "Oh heavens Jeremy! That's a bill from that jeweler's in London, you know that one --"
"Yes, THAT one!" interrupted Jeremy brusquely. "I bought Georgiana a Christmas present from there but I never thought the bill would come so quickly! Darn! I can't afford that now!"
Gordon shook his head reproachfully. "My word, you spent a fortune there! Why on earth do you buy such gifts for Miss Darcy if you cannot afford them?"
"It's not that I can't afford it Gordon, I just have to pay it from my savings in the bank!"
"The same savings with which you hope to buy a house for you and Miss Darcy? Good job Philips, if you keep on like this you will marry her, in about ten lifetimes!" Jeremy glared at him without saying a word. Seeing this, Gordon went on. "Listen, why do you keep on doing this? Don't you have any faith in Miss Darcy's common sense? Do you think she's not aware of your family's situation?"
"It's not that Gordon! But don't you see? She has been presented at court, no one knows that we are even thinking of getting married, and who knows how many proposals she may receive!" cried Jeremy. "It may seem stupid to you, but I would like to at least fight off the competition!"
"I can't believe how stupid you are, Philips," said Gordon incredulously. "You don't have any competition, because Miss Darcy happens to love you."
Remembering what had happened in the carriage, Jeremy bit his lip and looked away. "Listen, I have to go to University to explain to the dean why I missed this week's lectures, would you like to come with me?" he offered neutrally.
Gordon accepted this as a peacemaking offer and seeing that the rain had let off, he agreed to accompany his friend. After all, he had studied enough biology for a day.
As they were walking briskly down the street, they heard a loud noise and a clamour of voices and running people. They ran quickly round a corner and saw with a horror that a carriage had skidded into a market stall and had crashed down on its side. "It's Mrs. Bailey's carriage!" someone yelled. "Call a doctor!"
Jeremy and Gordon ran quickly to the carriage and together, pulled out the elderly matron that was sprawled, unconscious, inside it. Jeremy tried to revive her but was pushed away roughly by his friend. "Let her be! Don't move her you moron!" he yelled. Jeremy looked at Gordon, hurt, and saw him trying to assess whether the woman had any broken bones with skilled fingers and a brow furrowed in concentration. He realized with a start that when his medical skill was involved, Gordon Mackay turned out to be a very different person from the careless friend he knew. Seeing that, Jeremy just kneeled helplessly near the old woman, hoping that nothing was wrong.
Some minutes later, Mrs. Bailey seemed to revive and opened her eyes painfully. As soon as she caught sight of Jeremy, she gave a start and a small cry. "Ernest! Ernest, my son, you're back!"
Jeremy opened his eyes wide and looked at Gordon, who was staring at him in the same manner, wondering what on earth was going on.
Jeremy and Gordon waited impatiently in the drawing room of Mrs. Bailey's mansion while her doctor, a leading surgeon in England visited her to ascertain himself that there were no fractures or complications after her rather bad accident with the carriage. The two young men were quite overwhelmed by the lavishness of their surroundings, especially Gordon, who had never seen such luxury in his life before. "So this is how the wealthy live," he remarked, in a low voice.
Jeremy nodded and led him to one of the windows. "And if you look straight, you will see Mr. Darcy's townhouse right over there," he said, pointing to another, equally imposing house.
His friend gave him a long look, thinking that the future husband of Georgiana Darcy had much to look forward to, and he wondered why her family fortune seemed to have such a negative effect on Jeremy. He didn't know how to start off the subject so he decided to satisfy his curiosity on another, equally puzzling topic. "So what is this about, your being Ernest Bailey and all?"
Jeremy stared back at him, equally confused. "I have absolutely no idea. And anyway, it can't be, because for all their faults, Mr. and Mrs. Philips are my parents and although it doesn't show much, I'm very happy with that arrangement," he answered determinedly.
"I think it's highly improbable too," agreed Gordon. "Look at Mrs. Bailey; she seems to be much older than your parents. You just can't be her son."
His friend grinned suddenly. "Maybe my father is the long-lost Ernest Bailey! Everyone says that Julianne and I resemble him the most. That would be great, can you imagine the inheritance I would get?"
Gordon gaped at him, completely disgusted. "Heavens Philips! Can't you think about anything else but money?"
Jeremy rolled his eyes and glared at him. "I don't think so, and if I may say so, you should do the same, for both your sake and Kitty's!"
"I can take care of my affairs on my own, thank you very much!" retorted back Gordon, and was suddenly stopped by the opening of the door and the entrance of an imposing, dignified looking figure, whom they surmised, must be the famous Dr. Andrew Harrison.
He gave them a quick look and his face broke, surprisingly, into a relaxed grin. "Are you the young men who brought Mrs. Bailey here?" Gordon and Jeremy nodded and introduced themselves. "Dr. MacKay, I must congratulate you on a wonderful, well done job. With your quick action, my patient will be as fit as a fiddle in a couple of days."
Gordon's face flushed happily at being called "doctor" and he beamed at the surgeon. "I'm not a doctor, Sir," he explained rather ruefully. "But I'm studying to become one," he was quick to add.
Dr. Harrison nodded slowly. "Hmmm, very good, young man, very good. I would like to talk to you sometime Mr. MacKay," he said. "Maybe after you finish your studies?"
"That would be a pleasure...Sir," answered Gordon immediately, while Jeremy looked, sincerely happy for his best friend's sudden stroke of luck.
The surgeon turned to leave, when suddenly he remembered something. "Oh! I almost forgot! Mrs. Bailey would like to see you both in private," he announced.
Gordon and Jeremy looked at each other in embarrassment. "Now?" asked Jeremy. "In her bedchamber?"
Dr. Harrison waved him away dismissively. "Yes lad! Now and in her bedchamber! She's an old lady for goodness' sake, there is no need for such scruples!" With that, he left the room, followed by the butler.
Jeremy looked at his friend wryly. "Nice man isn't he?" he asked sarcastically. "If he were ever to take you as his apprentice, I wish you joy!"
Gordon looked equally uneasy. "I guess I'll have to adapt," he said queasily, and then they waited for the butler to take them to the Mistress of the house.
"Mr. Philips and Mr. MacKay," announced the butler stoically as he led them to Mrs. Bailey's room. The two men entered cautiously, and were greeted gently by the old, frail lady that was sitting up in her bed. She gave a small start when she saw Jeremy, but immediately replaced her surprised expression with a kind smile.
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance," she began. "And I wish to thank you with all my heart for all that you have done for me," she added.
"It was no trouble, Ma'am," said Jeremy seriously. "I can safely speak for my friend in saying that we are very glad to see that you have not been seriously hurt and that we both wish you a speedy recovery." Gordon just nodded mechanically, too much in awe to be able to speak.
Mrs. Bailey gazed at Jeremy closely. "It is incredible," she remarked. "You look so much like him."
Jeremy leaned forward in his chair, not wanting to let the subject go. "Like Ernest you mean?" he prodded.
Gordon frowned at his friend's forwardness, but Mrs. Bailey didn't seem perturbed; in fact, she smiled. "Yes, I remember now, that I had called you by that name before I fainted," she admitted. "But if you would kindly look at the portrait behind you, perhaps you will not blame me so much for having done so."
They looked at where she was pointing and gasped. The gentleman in the portrait looked exactly like Jeremy, the only difference being in the clothes, which had of course, changed in fashion. The eyes, and facial features were incredibly similar however and Jeremy felt slightly uncomfortable in seeing such a faithful "reproduction" of himself. "That was taken twenty-five years ago, when my son was more or less your age," continued Mrs. Bailey, her voice suddenly sounding very sad. "I guess you might be wondering whatever happened to him, aren't you?"
Gordon and Jeremy didn't know how to answer to that, but their curious looks gave her all the assurance that she needed. "I will tell you the story of my son, but only because you might find it useful throughout your lives," she explained. "You seem to me to be full of dreams and ideals, just like Ernest was before he left." With a sigh, Mrs. Bailey began her story.
"Ernest was my only son, and having lost my husband shortly after his birth, he grew up to be very close to me. There were many of those who said that I had spoiled the boy, and in fact, it was true that Ernest grew up surrounded by all the luxury and attention that I could give him, so you can imagine my surprise when he came up to me one day to tell me that he had fallen in love with the governess of my sister's daughter and that he intended to marry her! Miss Rawles was a very sweet girl, intelligent and beautiful, but she came from a very modest family, and to my conservative principles that was enough of a good reason to oppose the marriage in all ways possible to me. I ignored my son's wishes, and listened only to the voice of my education and of the prejudices of the people in our social class.
Ernest however, was not to be persuaded and he and Miss Rawles eloped to Scotland, where they were married. I was too stubborn to forgive him, and my wrath increased when I got to know that he and his wife had settled down very well in a village the north, and that although they were poor, they were both very happy. Ernest became the schoolmaster of the village, and Jane (his wife) helped him out. I realised at that time that my beloved son didn't need me or the life I had offered him to be happy, and that was something which I thought I would never forgive." Mr. Bailey stopped for a minute and sighed sadly at the memory of it all.
"What happened to your son, Ma'am?" asked Jeremy gently. "Were you ever reconciled?"
The elderly woman shook her head slowly. "Both Ernest and his wife contracted scarlet fever from a young waif they had given shelter to, and died less than a year after their elopement. The last words I said to my son were ones of anger and disappointment; how was I to know that I would have never seen him again?"
Jeremy and Gordon looked on in wretched suspense, feeling really sorry for Mrs. Bailey, but unable to think of anything to say to give her comfort. Ernest's story touched Jeremy in a special way, because he seemed to him to be an exact copy of what he had been a few month's before. They had shared the same ideals and generosity and he suddenly realised with a pang that the Jeremy that had existed before his betrothal to Georgiana Darcy would have acted in the same manner. Fortune and money hadn't blinded Ernest, and they wouldn't have blinded him either.
All the way back to their lodgings in the Bailey carriage, Jeremy relived the story over and over again, unable to take it out of his mind. What also tormented him were the last words that Mrs. Bailey had told him before leaving the room.
"Mr Philips, I do hope that you will come to visit me again soon."
"I will, Mrs. Bailey, and I thank you for sharing that sad experience with me and Mr. Mackay."
She looked at him closely. "Now that I look at you better, I see that there is a great difference between you and my son," she said. "The last time I looked at Ernest's eyes they were angry, determined, but also happy, because he knew that there was his beloved waiting for him. Your eyes, Mr. Philips, are very sad eyes. Why is it that such a young man could be so unhappy?"
Jeremy knew that she was right. His laughter, his cheerfulness and his whole lively behaviour were just a sham. He was, deep down, very unhappy, because he felt empty and unfulfilled. He had had many dreams of changing the world he lived in, and helping out those who were really in need, but he had foregone all that in favour of a future life of wealth and luxury. He couldn't blame Georgiana for it, because she had insisted many times that she didn't care for the lifestyle she had been brought up with, but he had never really believed her, probably because he wanted that lifestyle himself. He felt that he had betrayed himself with his lust for money and power, and wondered how he could even change all that. If he turned back to the Jeremy of old, he would be shunned and looked down at by all Georgiana's peers, and he would be subject to ridicule wherever he went. Was he willing to feel that way for the rest of his life? Was the life he wanted totally incompatible with that that was awaiting him in marrying Miss Darcy?
They arrived at their lodgings, and Mrs. Higgins came to greet them, greatly relieved that nothing had happened to them. "I was so worried!" she exclaimed. "You two left the house ages ago!"
Jeremy gave her an affectionate hug, not only to comfort her, but to seek some peace of mind for himself as well. Mrs. Higgins saw his distress, and questioned him tactfully about it. "I'm fine," he replied. "Though I really would like to discuss something with you," he added hopefully.
The landlady smiled and dragged him in the dining room. "I have just the right thing for you, Mr. Philips," she said kindly, and was very happy to see the young man's face light up at the sight of his favourite, chocolate flavoured biscuits and the large cup of steaming coffee.
"Georgiana? Have you even been listening to a word I've said?" asked Elizabeth teasingly. She and Georgiana were in the nursery, keeping Ben company as they usually did, but Georgiana had been increasingly absent minded of late and Elizabeth and Darcy had been quite worried about her.
"I'm sorry Elizabeth, I was just thinking about something else," she replied sadly.
Elizabeth took her hand in hers and stroked it gently. "What is that makes you so sad, Georgiana? Can't you tell me?"
The younger woman hesitated for a minute and suddenly blurted it out. "It's about Jeremy," she confessed.
Elizabeth frowned and Georgiana immediately regretted opening her mouth. Jeremy was Elizabeth's cousin after all, and she was sure that her sister-in-law would not really be able to take an impartial stand in the matter. "What about him? You aren't having second thoughts about marrying him, are you?"
Georgiana looked away, unable to meet her scrutinizing gaze. "Yes," she finally whispered, silently waiting for Elizabeth's interrogation. And it came immediately.
"What? Why? Why wouldn't you want to marry my cousin? Don't you love him anymore?" she demanded in one breath. "Georgiana Darcy, tell me what is going on!"
"Of course I love him, Elizabeth!" she replied. "But it's just that Jeremy has changed so much in the last few months, I can hardly even recognize him!"
"Well, he's changed for you!" said the other, rather rashly.
"I think that is beside the point," Georgiana retorted. "Even if he did change for me, it does not mean that I wanted him to do so! I fell in love with the Jeremy Philips who had ambitions and dreams that were not just based on money and power! If I wanted that, I would have married anyone in my acquaintance!"
Elizabeth sighed, because she realized that Georgiana did have a point. "Have you told him that you don't care for money and riches?"
"Many times, I can assure you."
"Then, the only thing you can do," began Elizabeth, "is to talk to him the next time you meet him, which will probably be at Haydon, and this time, do all in your power to make him listen."
The months and Haydon Manor blossomed with the arrival of spring. As far as the servants and tenants were concerned, things had gone back to normal in the estate and the new Master was proving himself to be as attentive, respectful and just as his father had been. The fields thrived and all those who played an active part in the well being of the land were very satisfied with the outcome of their work.
The only person who seemed to be unhappy was Julianne. As far as she was concerned nothing had changed since that dreadful day when her husband had declared, in not so many minced words, that all he wanted was to be left alone to deal with his grief. Many times she had tried to get close to him, to offer all the love she could to make the pain go away, but it seemed as if Robert did not want to feel better. He seemed happy enough to drown himself in his sorrow, and treat her with the polite indifference he reserved for the most distant acquaintances. It wasn't as if he treated her badly, it was more as if he didn't "treat her at all". She missed the days when they would quarrel and make up, the days when they would share everything, from laughter, to angry words. Now it seemed as if they lived in worlds apart and that made her feel frustrated and hurt.
On the day preceding the arrival of the Darcys and Jeremy, they were seated in the dining room as usual, eating in absolute silence, when Julianne decided to make up some sort of conversation.
"Do you think that everything is ready for our cousins' arrival?" she began.
Robert shrugged. "I guess. What is there to prepare anyway?" he drank his glass of wine and stood up, leaving the room after a small nod that indicated that as usual, the conversation was over.
A sudden wave of anger hit Julianne. In fact she was surprised at how sudden it all was, and with what vehemence it lead her to her husband's study. She strode furiously towards the close door and opened it without knocking. Robert was busy with his ledgers but he looked up, amazed at seeing his wife standing determinedly in front of him.
"You and I need to talk, Robert," she announced menacingly.
"I'm busy, Ju. Can't it wait?"
She shook her head and walked towards his desk. "No, it can not. I have to discuss something with you, and I'm going to do it now!"
Her husband crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her defiantly. "All right then, talk. I am listening."
"You and I need to talk, Robert," she announced menacingly.
"I'm busy, Ju. Can't it wait?"
She shook her head and walked towards his desk. "No, it can not. I have to discuss something with you, and I'm going to do it now!"
Her husband crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her defiantly. "All right then, talk. I am listening."
Her husband was listening. Good. However, Julianne suddenly found herself completely tongue-tied.
Yes, he is giving you some attention, now what?
I don't know.
What?! You've concocted this entire scene and now you don't even know what to tell him? Great job!
Shut up!
There was a long list of things she wanted to ask Robert, but she didn't know from where to start. She wanted to know the reason for his estrangement, his hard-headedness, and his refusal of her love and help. Suddenly a novel thought hit her, and a clear-cut question came to her mind.
"Robert, is there another woman in your life?" she demanded. Might as well start with a big one.
Robert looked at her, completely shocked. He sat up angrily and approached her with quick strides. "How dare you accuse me of this, Julianne! You're my wife and I'm not an adulterer!"
Julianne's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" she said before she could help herself. "I don't quite remember you having similar scruples before we got married! Surely you remember Molly?"
Julianne was referring to an incident that had occurred in the first few months of their acquaintance. She and Robert had felt an almost immediate attraction to each other and their mutual inexperience in the matters of the heart had made it all the more difficult for them to cope with those emotions. They had decided to wait some more time before announcing publicly any decisions they felt compelled to take, but this had done nothing but worsen the situation. During the New Year's Eve ball at Pemberley, a petty argument broke out between them and Robert had stormed away to the village with his old university acquaintances. His bruised ego, a cunning, revengeful friend, and an unhealthy dose of alcohol had helped him capitulate to the charms of the beautiful, precocious barmaid, Molly. Julianne had discovered the betrayal and broken all intercourse with him for many months. Forgiving had been very hard, and forgetting the experience impossible, and although it had been very long ago, the humiliation of it all still stung her, and from what she could see from her husband's furious expression, he had not forgotten his mistake either.
Robert glared at her through narrowed, dark eyes. "You had promised me never to mention that incident again!"
His wife stared at him defiantly, never being the one to let her guard down. " You had promised a number of things in church on our wedding day and I must say that you have not done a really good job in keeping them!" she lashed back.
"What is it you want from me, Mrs. Darcy?" he demanded after a short pause. "Don't I give you anything you want? What is it that you lack? What do you want me to do?"
For all her anger, Julianne felt genuinely sorry for him and decided to stop her attacks, at least for a moment. "Robert, I know that you are still grieving your late father, but it's been three months now. I want you to let go," she said gently. "You have your life to live, a future to build, and my greatest wish is to be a part of it. Why is it that you are always pushing me away from you?" Robert was silent, and for the first time in the last three months, Julianne saw a flicker of tenderness in his eyes - love maybe? - that resembled very much the way he used to look at her during the first year of their marriage. Then it was gone immediately and he looked away without saying a word. She took a small step forward and held his hand gently in hers, her voice broken with unshed tears. "Robert, my love, your father is gone now, and I miss him terribly as well, but we are still here, and we have to live and share things together, because he would have wanted it so."
Robert had been very shaken with his wife's accusations and unashamed disclosure of her feelings, but her last words angered him, though he didn't know exactly why. He released his hand suddenly from her hold, trying to ignore the hurt in her eyes. "Do you know, are you even aware of what it means to lose someone you love? To wait for this person to be taken away from you yet hoping till the very end that he or she will stay with you and accompany you once more through your life?" he cried. "Can you even imagine what it feels like to love someone who is not beside you anymore, and to feel alone while the world is tumbling all around you?"
Julianne faced him squarely, seeming unaffected by his outburst. "I'm losing my husband," she said softly. "Isn't that the same thing?" Robert reached out for her hand, but before he could say a word, she turned away from him. "You know what?" she began in clipped tones. "I don't care anymore, I'm tired of trying to make things better for us. You have made your choice, and I will respect it."
With that, she walked slowly out of the room, only to run swiftly up the stairs to cry in solitude. Robert stared at the closed door of his study. Then he walked slowly to his desk, and opened his ledgers once more. This time however his carefully planned accounts turned out to be only blurred images that could not get past the tears that suddenly flowed into his eyes.
Julianne laid her head down on her pillow, trying to relive all that had happened in the last few hours. She had stopped crying and was now completely tired out and almost blinded by a splitting migraine. The solitude in her bedchamber did not give her comfort; she had slept in it for the last few weeks, but she did not feel any lonelier than she used to when she had shared the bed with Robert. As she stared at nothing in the darkness, she remembered the times when they would make love and cuddle for hours at night, and her husband would hold her tight and listen to her as she related all that had happened to her during the day. Robert would frequently ask her if there was anything at Haydon that made her unhappy, and she would always assure him that there was nothing she didn't love in her new, married life. What if he asked me now? she thought wryly. Through the pounding in her head, a voice answered her.
He wouldn't ask you, so why think about it?
Although she had told Robert that she didn't care anymore, Julianne did care, terribly so. And before she gave in to her fatigue, she said a little prayer for him, for their marriage and for all that the future would bring.
Later that night, she was woken up by a warm kiss and a gentle caress on her face. She stirred, smiling happily. "Robert, is that you?" she whispered.
"Sssh, go to sleep Ju," answered her husband in a soothing voice. Julianne opened her eyes, but all she saw in the faint light of dawn was the figure of her husband, fully dressed, as he went out of her room. She sat back in bed for some time, wondering if she was in reality dreaming, but hearing a noise downstairs, she got up quickly and clad only in her nightdress and dressing gown she hurried down the stairs, only to find a surprised butler staring at her.
"What happened? Where is my husband?" Julianne asked immediately.
"Ma'am, Mr. Darcy had to leave for London," he replied apologetically.
"What? Now?" Julianne was stunned while Mr. Merriman tried hard to ignore the devastated look in her eyes. "When is he coming back?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"I'm afraid he did not say, Ma'am." The poor butler was not to be envied at that moment. He had the unfortunate role of seeing his own beloved Mistress hide her face from him and walk to the window. He wished he could comfort her but he knew not how to overstep the social boundaries that separated them. All the elderly man could do was wait for an eventual order in wretched silence.
"You coward, why do you keep on hurting me so?" whispered Julianne to no one in particular. She was still violently in love with her husband and was almost sure that Robert loved her to the same extent. However, if this was wholly true, when did things start to fall apart? When had she lost complete control of her marriage? And why was she standing alone, trying not to weep miserably in front of their butler as she tried to catch a glimpse of her husband's departing carriage in the morning mist, without even knowing when he was to return?
"Mrs. Darcy?"
The butler's low voice startled her and she jumped. "What is it?" she asked, still dazed.
"Is there anything you want me to do for the arrival of your visitors?" asked the butler, trying hard to give her something else to think about.
"Visitors?" she asked blankly.
"Yes ma'am, in a few hours' time Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are due to arrive with Miss Darcy," he explained helpfully.
Julianne groaned and let out a murmured explicative. A vivid illustration of her cousin's happy marriage was the last thing she wanted to witness.
The Darcy carriage was well on its way to Northinghamshire and Elizabeth secretly hoped that journey would be over very soon. She was very anxious to see Julianne and Robert and hoped that whatever problems they seemed to have had been resolved. Also, the journey so far had not been one of the most entertaining; Jeremy had joined them when they had stopped in London and he and Georgiana had spent the whole trip in a complete, uncomfortable silence that had affected them all. Actually, Ben was the only one who seemed to be in good spirits and delighted himself and his father by pointing out anything of the landscape that interested him, and since it was his first journey from home, everything seemed worth showing to his attentive papa.
As the imposing manor came into view, Elizabeth squeezed Georgiana's hand gently and gave her a reassuring smile. "Make him listen," she whispered, while the other answered with a grateful smile.
Seeing the carriage approach, Julianne hurried to the mirror, ascertained herself that her eyes weren't red or swollen, and pinched her pale cheeks to give the impression of colour. Then, pasting a fake smile on her face, she went outside to greet her relatives. Elizabeth, Georgiana and Jeremy hugged her tightly, while Darcy greeted her with a polite kiss and wide smile. Although she hated to admit it, Julianne did start to feel a little bit better and turned her attention to the bewildered Ben.
"Hello Benjamin," she said politely. "It's been a while since we met last, do you remember who I am?"
Ben shook his head, but he gave her a small smile nonetheless. "Hello!" he said loudly, and went to hide behind his mother's skirt.
Elizabeth looked around for Robert and not seeing him there, she asked whether he was in good health. Julianne frowned for a second but then returned to her usual self. "Oh Robert is fine," she replied. "He was called urgently to London, but he should be here in a matter of days." Her cousin didn't seem quite convinced, but she let it pass for the moment.
A few minutes later, the guests were led to their rooms, and Julianne heaved a huge sigh of relief. Everything seemed to be going passably well till now, although the strain of lying so openly was taking a toll on her. She went out to the front garden hoping for some time in solitude but before long, she felt a tug on her dress.
"Juwanne?" called Ben's voice behind her.
"Hello again, Ben," she replied. "Where is your mamma?"
Ben shrugged, and Julianne guessed correctly that he had escaped his parent's circumspection. Before she could take his hand and take him back inside, Ben took out a little, squashed rose from his trouser pocket and handed it to her. "Flower," he said proudly.
The child's innocent token of affection touched Julianne very much. She pulled the boy towards her and burst out crying, ashamed of herself, but too overwhelmed to stop her outburst. She heard a step behind her and felt and a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw her relatives looking at her worriedly.
"That story about Robert was a lie, wasn't it?" asked Darcy, hitting the nail on the head.
Julianne nodded sadly. "We had a huge quarrel yesterday, and he left for London early this morning," she sobbed.
Jeremy turned bright red in anger and went over to his sister. "That villain doesn't deserve you!" he cried. She looked angry at this abuse of her husband and was going to retort something but her brother stopped her. "Listen to me Ju," he said in a gentler tone. "Why don't you go to Meryton for some time?"
Julianne seemed shocked at the suggestion. "Jeremy, Robert is my husband and Haydon is my home. I could never leave them!"
"I'm not talking about leaving, just showing your dear husband that his behaviour towards you won't be tolerated," Jeremy pleaded.
"It's true, things aren't go as well as they could, but two wrongs never make a right. I want to wait for him and work things out," she replied quietly. Elizabeth and Darcy were proud of Julianne and admired her loyalty to the commitment she and Robert had taken, while Georgiana seemed awed and perplexed at such devotion.
"Besides Jeremy, you don't understand, I could never leave, even if I wanted to," she added.
"Why not? What is it that I can't understand?" demanded Jeremy angrily.
Julianne looked down. "I can never leave Robert because, besides the fact that I love my husband," -she let out a sigh and gulped- "I'm pregnant."
The only reaction Julianne got after her surprising announcement was stunned silence. The eyes of Darcy, Elizabeth, Jeremy and Georgiana were fixed on her incredulously, while Ben, as if sensing that something was wrong, amused himself by chasing one solitary, wayward beetle. Finally, Jeremy spoke up. "From all, the stupid, irresponsible things you could do --!" he began furiously, but was interrupted by a unanimous glare from four different pairs of eyes.
"I don't think that one has much say in matters like these, do you?" asked Julianne sarcastically. "It wasn't planned to happen, but it wasn't planned not to either!"
"Well I must say you have excellent timing, haven't you?" her brother replied with equal scorn. "Was your dear husband's sudden departure in your plans too?"
Georgiana glowered at him fiercely. "Is this your way of making things better?" she cried.
Elizabeth walked slowly towards her cousin. "Julianne, dearest, are you sure, absolutely sure of your pregnancy?" she inquired cautiously.
Julianne nodded slowly. "Yes. Our child will be born in six months' time - in September."
Darcy looked at her worriedly. "Does Robert know about this?" he asked.
"No," she replied, looking away. "Things haven't been so comfortable between us lately." Her eyes were brimming with tears again and the rest of her family felt completely useless and awkward in dealing with a situation that was getting more complicated by the minute.
"But Julianne, Robert has every right to know, it is also his child after all!" pleaded Elizabeth. "Everyone deserves to know the truth."
Jeremy snorted. "I know what the villain deserves! I will go to London myself and beat some good sense into him - that will teach him not to desert his wife whenever he feels like it!" he blurted out.
Julianne faced him squarely. "Jeremy, you're my brother and all, but I won't have you disrespecting my husband in such a way! You don't know him as well as I do!"
"Julianne is right," put in Elizabeth. "But still, I think that someone should go to London to try and talk to Robert. Fitzwilliam, you're his cousin and you can deal with him much better than any of us can!"
Darcy looked startled at this and mumbled a "we'll see" and tried to avoid his wife's gaze in a manner not wholly unlike the one his cousin used when faced with the same dilemma, or so Julianne thought.
Seeing that he was definitely not going to be included in any plans, Jeremy fumed even more and without a word, turned on his heels and walked off crossly. Georgiana gave them all an apologetic look and went hurriedly after him.
"The famous Philips temper, I guess," sighed Julianne, shaking her head slowly. She couldn't really blame Jeremy for what he was feeling; in fact, she could even understand him. For most of their life, Jeremy had taken care of her, and had taken active part in all her decisions and dilemmas. He had had to relinquish all the influence he had on her onto another young man, and he was now unable to accept the fact that he should have nothing to do with her life - the life she had chosen - anymore. Seeing that he was in the good hands of Georgiana, she gave herself leave to think of her own problems once more, and thus allowed Elizabeth to put her arm around her and lead her to the manor. "Lizzy," she whispered.
Elizabeth had to strain to hear her. "Yes, dear, what is it?"
"The last thing I told my husband before he left was that I didn't care for our marriage anymore," she continued in a low, quivering voice. "It's not true, Lizzy, I promise! I was just angry and I didn't know what I was saying! Now what must he think of me?"
Her cousin wanted with all her heart to be able to soothe the unhappy girl, and to assure her that everything was going to be all right, and that Robert would return to her, eager to give her all his love, but she knew perfectly well that these assurances could be false, especially since her own husband had not seemed to be too eager to give them all a helping hand. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, walking with their son some distance behind them.
Fitzwilliam Darcy, you have some explaining to do.
Georgiana ran up to the seething young man walking in front of her and caught his arm roughly. "Jeremy Philips, I could have slapped you back there!" she cried in a voice that was very uncharacteristic with her normally low, cultivated tones. "What was all that about?"
Jeremy regarded her with some amazement. "Should I ask your permission before getting angry?" he asked rather foolishly.
"Oh enough of that," she lashed back in disgust. "You sound like a spoiled child! I can understand your being angry but you were also being deliberately cruel!"
"I think not," he muttered, irritated. "I was only trying to help my sister!"
"Oh really? By turning her against her husband? That's smart, isn't it, Mr. Philips?" she asked rhetorically. "Can't you appreciate your sister's devotion and loyalty to her vows and her partner in life? She is not running away from her problems, and that in my opinion shows a maturity that we both seem to be lacking!"
"What are you talking about?" he said, his voice not above a whisper as he looked at her in dread.
Georgiana was not to be softened. "What I'm saying Jeremy is that as things stand between us at this moment, if anything even remotely similar to this happened, we wouldn't survive it," she said coldly.
"You say that you would leave me?"
"Yes." Jeremy bit his lip as his face twisted in grief and shock. Georgiana moved towards him and put her head on his shoulder. "Something like this has not yet happened to us, my love," she said in a gentler tone. "But there are still some things that need to be discussed, and we must stop putting them off every time we meet. I want to have a say in our future, and I want you to respect my opinions."
"Don't I do that?" asked Jeremy incredulously.
Georgiana shook her head sadly. "No, I'm afraid not. Jeremy I want to think about some things before I can actually face you with them, but I also want you to reflect on something when you've finally managed to calm down."
"What's that?" he asked.
"That I have a mind of my own, and I know what I want, even if that is different from what you think is best for us, or at least for me. And if I tell you about my wishes, I want you to pay attention to what I say, and actually give them some credit."
Jeremy gave her a shadow of a smile. "In other words, Miss Darcy, you want me to listen."
Georgiana stood up on her toes and gave him a soft, loving kiss.
Not all is lost then!
Later that evening...
"There you go young man," said Darcy lovingly as he lowered Ben onto some cushions and tucked him under a thick blanket. "You can sleep for a little while in this room, but then I'll take you in the nursery." It wasn't the first time that Darcy and Elizabeth had allowed their son to spend some time in the evening with them before taking him (usually fast asleep) to his bed, and this particular time the young boy was particularly grateful to his parents, since it was his first night in a strange house.
"No sleep," he replied, hardly able to keep his eyes open. His mother and father gave him each a kiss and in a few minutes, he was snoring peacefully.
Darcy sat down in one of the armchairs and as was their usual, Elizabeth propped herself on his lap. However, she closed the book he was reading and looked at him with an odd pout on her beautiful face. "Fitzwilliam, I don't want to read, I want to talk."
"What about, my love?" her husband asked rather uneasily.
"Why is that you don't want to go to London to talk to Robert?" she asked directly.
Darcy sighed. He had been expecting this all afternoon. "It's not that I don't want to help our cousins solve their problems or anything like that," he began. "It's just that I don't think it's right for you and me to barge in their relationship every time something goes awry. They are both adults now, and they are going to be parents soon. They can't always depend on us! We must have the decency to respect them! "
Elizabeth knew that deep deep down in her innermost depths, her husband's words were absolutely true but it was not really in her nature to give up without an argument. "Oh really? You don't want to get involved? So you prefer to leave my cousin in the wretched state that she is in?"
Darcy rolled his eyes. "You know very well that that is not true! And anyway, do you think that your cousin is the only who is suffering? What about Robert?"
Elizabeth laughed scornfully. "Robert?! Pray tell me, how do you know that he is suffering?"
"I'll tell you why Mrs. Darcy! I know that my cousin is still in grief because he is acting in exactly the same way my father, myself and, to some extent, even Georgiana acted when we were faced in a similar situation!" replied Darcy determinedly.
Elizabeth looked surprised at that. "So, when your mother and father died, you and Georgiana avoided each other instead of being together?" she asked unbelievingly.
"Yes! Call it the way in which Darcys deal with their sorrow or a fault in the family if you like, but still, there it is and there it will always be! I'm not saying that it is fair and right, but it's a person's way of facing his problems and should not be condemned for it!"
"So you're saying that if you had married me when your father had died, you would have treated me in the same infamous manner?" demanded Elizabeth raising her voice and standing up.
Hearing her cry Ben woke up in a fright and started whimpering. Darcy moved to go to him but his wife anticipated him and carried their son to the next room without even looking at her husband.
After waiting for her for close to an hour, Darcy could not resist any longer. He opened the door and found his wife staring at their sleeping son. "Are you coming back?" he asked. Elizabeth did not reply, though she did seem a bit calmer. Darcy bristled at this snub. "I don't know why you are so ready to judge Robert's behaviour so severely when you are acting in the same manner," he remarked coldly.
With that, Elizabeth, turned to look at him, repentance in her eyes. "I'm sorry, my love," she said softly. "I've thought about it, and I think that you are right."
Darcy enveloped her in his arms and kissed her. "Listen to me, dearest. If Robert does not come till the end of the week, I'll promise you that I'll try to do something. How's that for a compromise?"
Robert did not come the following morning, though Julianne stood waiting for him for most of the time. The only person of the party that seemed to be at ease was Ben, who spent most of the day playing around with his favourite uncle and aunt. Georgiana and Jeremy obliged him willingly, and though Georgiana had still not opened her heart completely to her fiancé, Jeremy had rightly decided to give her space and time to reflect about her future decisions. Darcy and Elizabeth stood loyally near to Julianne, and with all the others, hoped against hope that the Master of Haydon would make his presence known very soon.
That night, Julianne stood staring at her upright mirror, holding her nightgown tightly against her body, and thus exposing the tiny bulge that was starting to be seen in her belly. Although she was three month's gone, her pregnancy only started to show very recently, probably because of her normally plump figure. She smiled sadly at her reflection and stroked the "bump" gently. "You are growing nicely, aren't you, my little love?" she said softly. "No wonder I feel so hungry all the time!" Her voice cracked suddenly as she continued to address her unborn child. "I know it may not seem so," she sobbed, " but I promise you that I'll be the best mamma you could ever wish for! And very soon, Papa will come and he will love you too..." her voice trailed away as she gave way to her sorrow and anguish. Suddenly she heard a knock on her door, and wiping the tears from her eyes, she walked over to open it, finding a very uneasy butler behind it.
"Mrs. Darcy," he began. "The Master has returned, and would like to speak to you. Shall I find an excuse for you?" The last part of the statement was made in a reproachful tone that left her in no doubt of Mr. Merriman's opinion of the Master and his behaviour.
She gave him a tiny smile. It was good to have an ally in your own home. "It is very kind of you, Mr. Merriman," she said. "But please tell my husband that I would like to speak to him too."