by Bray, Ayr
“I am saying you have been out in society so little. What if there is another man you could love? A man with enough money to help you save Rosings Park.”
“There is no one else I could love; I love only you.”
“That is not true. So many people find love, then lose it, just to find love again. I think you owe it to yourself to go to London and meet other men.”
“No, I will not. If you will not marry me, then I will return to Rosings Park on my own. I will marry no one but you.”
“Do not be that way, Anne. You should at least think about it. We will speak again tomorrow, but for now please consider what I have said. It certainly would make your life easier if you found a wealthy man to love. Consider, I am not ready to give up my life as a man of the army, and you should not be asked to give up the lifestyle in which you have been raised.”
“Richard, I cannot believe what you are saying. I am not asking you to give up your position, nor am I proposing that I give up mine. We have only just learned the facts. Let us both do as you say; let us think about it before we make any decisions.”
Richard understood that Anne loved him, but he also understood her devotion to her ancestral home. If he were the heir to Matlock he knew he would do anything to save it. He did not want her to feel obligated to marry him now that she understood the true nature of Rosings Park’s financial affairs.
With no more than a kiss on her hand, Richard left Anne standing in the study as tears rolled down her face. Her sobs seemed to follow him through the halls, chasing him all the way to his rooms.
Richard collapsed on the bed without removing his clothes. His mind reeled with a hundred variations of his life; scenarios of joy and sorrow. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, the butler stood on the other side with a letter in his hand.
“Sir, a letter just came express for you.”
“Thank you,” Richard said as he took it. He opened the letter as he closed the door with his foot and walked deeper into the room. He was surprised to see it was from his general; there had been no official seal on the envelope, and beyond the polite salutation it contained an extraordinary request.
Colonel R. Fitzwilliam,
I hope you are enjoying the Christmas season with your family in the North.
Though Militia deserters no longer fall within your purview, I must ask you to make an exception. Mrs. Vogel’s nephew, Mr. Steven Rutledge, has deserted his post in Manchester. He was last seen heading towards Derbyshire and is believed to be concealed in Leicester. Once you have apprehended him, return him to his commanding officer in Manchester.
Please have the utmost care of discretion in this matter as Mrs. Vogels family would like to avoid a scandal. I assured her that I trust no one’s discretion so much as I trust yours.
General Vogel
Richard looked at the clock upon the mantel and assessed the time. It was late, but if he left now he would have a better chance of apprehending the deserter before word got out that he had been traced. Deserters assume someone will be sent after them, and rarely do they stay in one place long. Luck had been with Richard in the past when he had performed these sort of personal favors for his commanding officer. He prayed this time would be no different and that it would take remarkably little effort on his part to apprehend the man. The only delay he could forsee was location. The other favors had been carried out it London, where Richard had resources and connections that he did not have here in the wild and untamed wilderness of the north. He was unsure how long this job would take him.
Richard called for his horse to be readied, packed some clothing in his satchel, and penned a short note to Anne.
Dearest Anne,
My General has called me away on business that cannot be delayed. I do not know when I shall return.
I have thought more about our conversation tonight and am convinced you should marry another. As you can see, I am wedded to the life of the army and am often called off at a moment’s notice. I love the life I live and am not ready to give it up for the life of a gentleman. It would not be fair to ask you to leave your ancestral home to follow my nomadic lifestyle, so I beg of you, please go to London and find another to love.
Richard
Richard walked to Anne’s room and listened for a moment before slipping the note under the door. He could hear movement in the room and an occasional cough or sniffle, no doubt brought on by her tears. He could listen no longer. He left Pemberley under the black sky of the cold December night.
The day of the Bennets’ departure soon came, and Mrs. Bennet was forced to submit to a separation which seemed all the worse because her dear Jane had announced her eminent relocation to the north. Their departure was far more vocal than when the Darcys had left Longbourn the day of their wedding, for she did not have the enjoyment of the day’s events to distract her.
“Oh! My dear Lizzy,” she cried, “when will we meet again?”
“Soon, Mamma. Fitzwilliam has promised me we will visit Hertfordshire often.”
“What an agreeable man he is; so thoughtful of your happiness. You are exceedingly blessed, Lizzy. Write to me very often, my dear. I must know how you are doing. Remember, I would be happy to offer you advice any time you should ask. I have rarely had such a pleasant time as we did speaking last night.”
“Thank you, Mamma. I will write as often as I can.”
“Jane, come here, dear. I need a hug.” Mrs. Bennet held open her arms until Jane walked into them. Embracing her tightly, Mrs. Bennet prattled, “Now, you make sure Mr. Bingley’s carriage is warm enough. I would not want you to catch a chill on your way home. When you return, I will come and visit you.” Jane looked at Charles with wide eyes. He shrugged his shoulders in a defeated action. Both were glad that soon they would move to their new situation.
Fitzwilliam’s adieus were heartfelt and sincere. Never had he imagined he would come to love his wife’s family as he had, despite the turmoil and contention that had been caused by them. He advised Mrs. Lacroix to have a basket of food prepared for their journey home, and he had extra pillows, warming stones, and rugs added to their carriage. He had thought of everything to make their trip more pleasant.
Georgiana, Mary, and Kitty cried. They were distressed that they knew not when they would see one another again. Even a promise from Fitzwilliam that Georgiana could go with them on their next trip to Hertfordshire did not satisfy, for they had not yet set a date. The girls promised to write regularly, and soon Fitzwilliam was considering the economy of hiring his own man to carry letters between Pemberley and Longbourn, for there were bound to be many.
Once the Bennet carriage pulled from the drive, Elizabeth and Jane stood at the drawing room window watching it clatter down the road until it was no longer visible. Fitzwilliam and Charles both knew their wives already missed their parents and younger sisters, though they tried not to show it.
Soon after, their attention was drawn to a commotion on the staircase.
“Uncle! Uncle!” Anne shouted in a frenzy. “Oh! Where is my uncle?”
Elizabeth stepped from the drawing room just in time to hear Fitzwilliam address her. “I do not think he has come down yet this morning. What is the matter?”
Anne waved a piece of paper towards him, which he took from her. Turning it over, he began to read as Anne provided Elizabeth with a summary. “It is Richard. He has left on army business. That is not all of it, either. He has broken our engagement. The worst part about it is he penned it in a letter. The least he could have done was had the decency to wake me and tell me in person.” Anne paced back and forth in front of them. “The presumption of Richard to think I would allow him to break our engagement so easily. No! I will not have it. I know he loves me, and I love him. He says he agrees with my mother that I should marry a wealthy man who can save Rosings Park. I will not have it. My mother shall not triumph and ruin my chance for happiness.”
Elizabeth tried to calm Anne and get h
er to stop rambling, but she would not. Anne had worked herself into a frenzy, and nothing but Richard returning to Pemberley would put her at ease.
“Of course I shall triumph. I always do,” Lady Catherine cooed from the top of the stairs. She had overheard her daughter and was pleased with the situation. “Richard has more sense than I gave him credit for. I am mightily proud of him for understanding the situation and taking matters into his own hands.”
“I hate you, Mother!” Anne said through clenched teeth, and then turned towards her uncle’s room.
It was a full hour before Fitzwilliam, Lord Matlock, and James located the stable boy who had saddled Richard’s horse late last night. The boy knew little, just that Richard had called for his horse to be saddled, and that he had left in his uniform with a full set of saddlebags. He had not given the boy any indication of when he would return, nor did he say where he was going.
The entire party was left to await his return and console a distraught Anne.
The departure of the Bennets the day before had been the beginning of the Pemberley guests returning to their homes after the holiday. Today James and Roslynd were leaving with their three adorable children.
Elizabeth was sad to see them go, for she had thoroughly enjoyed having the children’s laughter brighten the rooms of the manor.
With the distressing matters of the financial affairs of Rosings Park and the possible wedding of Anne and Richard being unresolved, Lord and Lady Matlock felt it prudent to extend their stay. James and Evelyn were upset they would not be able to ride home in their grandparents carriage. They begged and pleaded, citing how well they had behaved, but it did no good. They must leave today, and it was yet undetermined when the others would return.
Lady Matlock offered them hugs and promises that they could come stay with her as soon as she returned to Matlock, and, at long last, they entered their father’s carriage wiping the tears from their eyes.
The manor was slowly becoming a quieter place as more and more of the family left.
A full week had passed since Richard’s departure. Anne could hardly maintain a rationality about her. The longer he was away, the more she despaired of his returning for her. Lord Matlock insisted she meet with him and Fitzwilliam each morning to be tutored in estate business. They were determined she would possess at least a basic understanding of all estate matters before leaving Pemberley. They were determined that, upon her return to Rosings Park, she would be able to make sound decisions regarding its improvement. Mr. Johnson could not be more pleased with Anne’s ability to understand all the men taught her. He was confident that upon her return to Rosings Park the two of them could restore the estate to its previous state of grandeur.
By the middle of the first week of January, Lady Catherine’s restlessness had become unbearable, and she demanded she be allowed to return to Rosings Park. The last thing any of them wanted was for her to return unaccompanied; there was no telling what she would do.
Anne understood they could not remain at Pemberley forever, and already she was eager to return to her own home now that she understood its fate. She was determined to begin setting the estate affairs in order and stop its continued failure.
Her fear was she would leave Pemberley only to have Richard return here for her. Anne had sent letters to every known lodging Richard frequented in hopes he would receive one and know she expected him to come for her at Rosings Park. It was time for her to go home.
Lady Matlock accompanied Anne back to Rosings Park. Their conversation was in abundance. Anne wanted to learn everything she could about the man she loved, and likewise Lady Matlock thought it best to get to know her future daughter-in-law, for she was sure there would still be a wedding. Though the two women were related, the distance between their homes and the short visits of their past had not provided them ample opportunity to know one another as well as they ought.
The conversation in the second carriage, however, was stilted. Mile after mile passed in silence between Lord Matlock and his sister. The closer they came to Rosings Park, the more indignant she became. Lady Catherine had already been informed by Anne that she would have two days to gather her belongings and move to the Dower House. Lady Matlock had been asked to keep an eye on Lady Catherine, No one trusted her simply to pack her belongings and leave the place; they all feared she would cause more damage to Rosings Park.
The third carriage conveyed the Darcys. It had not been their intent to leave Pemberley this winter, but under the present circumstances Fitzwilliam felt a sort of responsibility to Anne. He had not taken lightly the charge from his aunt to review the Rosings Park ledgers, and he was appalled that he did not notice her duplicity. The fact that his aunt had pulled the wool over his eyes angered him beyond reason. Fitzwilliam planned to assist his uncle and Anne in any way he could. Elizabeth cared not where they travelled, even if the destination was Rosings Park, so long as they were together.
Georgiana remained behind with the Bingleys, who had been invited to stay at Pemberley as long as they wanted. Their continued presence would provide company for Georgiana until her companion returned the following week. As an added bonus, it would offer the newly married couple the privacy they had been missing in at Netherfield. They were happy to accept the invitation, and took the opportunity to drive to their newly let estate where Jane took measurements for her new curtains and spoke to Charles about how she would like the furniture placed. Both of them were counting the days until they could take up residence there, sure that it would offer them every bit of happiness they dreamed of.
Richard had been in Leicester for ten days. He already knew where the deserter was. He had seen him twice the first day he had arrived, but twice he had not arrested him. He had continued to see the man each day thereafter, but still he did not arrest him. Something held him back.
When he had left Pemberley he had been sure breaking his engagement with Anne was the right thing to do. In the beginning, he continually repeated in his mind it was the best thing for her, though his heart refused to listen. But the more days that had passed, the more miserable Richard became and the less sure he was.
In previous assignments, he had easily apprehended deserters, returned them to their commanding officers, filed the requisite paperwork, and returned to his lifestyle of leisure, all within three days’ time. Not this time. His heart just was not in it. Once he arrested the deserter and returned him, what then? Would he return to Pemberley? London? His lack of resolve with regards to his own life made it nearly impossible for him to complete his assignment.
Finally, he could wait no longer. If he did not apprehend the man and take him in, then General Vogel would send another. In any case, he was tired of sleeping in a bed that was not his own and wearing the same clothing day in and day out. If nothing else, apprehending the man would allow him to return to civilized society, even if he was miserable and discontent with his life in general.
When he made the decision to arrest Mr. Rutledge, carrying it out was easy. With as many times as the colonel had seen him, he had also been seen. The man had at first suspected the colonel was there to apprehend him, but as the days passed and the colonel had never made his move, the man had relaxed and let down his guard.
Colonel Fitzwilliam escorted Mr. Rutledge’s transport to Manchester, where he handed him over to his commanding officer and then went to the local office to file the required paperwork.
“Good God, man, what took you so long?” the militia secretary squawked as Colonel Fitzwilliam entered and sat down at a vacant desk across from the man who had been his friend for many years.
Colonel Fitzwilliam grumbled something incoherent and picked up a pen, dipping it in ink.
“What is the matter? You are not acting like yourself, man. What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing!”
“Ah, I see. You have been slighted by a woman.”
“I have not been slighted,” Colonel Fitzwilliam barked back, but then he breathed o
ut a sigh of resignation. “I was the one doing the slighting, and I wholeheartedly regret it. Would you believe that ten days ago I was engaged?”
“Engaged? Not you!”
“Yes, it is true, but alas, I was a fool and broke it off.”
“Why?” his friend questioned.
“Because, as I said, I am a fool, that is why.”
“Well, at least the ladies of London will not have to experience the pain of broken hearts because the infamous Colonel Fitzwilliam is off the marriage market,” he retorted.
“Do not be callous, man. I am in serious pain here.”
“I am not being callous. I have heard the ladies speak of you often. The day you publically announce your engagement, the streets of London will be flooded by the tears of wailing women.”
“Fear not, for that day will never come. I have lost my only true love. I shall never marry another.”
“She must be some woman to have you pining away over her as you are.”
“She is.”
No more was said between the two until Colonel Fitzwilliam handed the man his paperwork and rose to leave. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, I sincerely hope you find happiness. If you love this woman as you say you do, I think you should return and tell her. She may be pining away for you as you are for her.” He looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam who said not a word. “It is worth a chance, is it not?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded and left the room. His mind raced with possibilities. He had loved Anne for years, but he had never let his mind linger on her because he thought there was no chance of their marriage. Now, he had tasted the sweetness of her kisses, held her soft body against his, and he knew there was only one thing left to do. He must marry her. He would return to Pemberley immediately and ask for her forgiveness, even beg if he needed to.
The return ride to Pemberley seemed longer than it ever had before. The anticipation of seeing Anne made each mile pass more slowly than usual. Richard’s thoughts ran through hundreds of scenarios of what he would say to Anne, but in the end none of them felt right. He wished he could tell her what was in his heart, but military men were not supposed to be sensitive, and all of his training told him to use logic. In the end, as Pemberley came into view, his heart won out. He was determined to seek out Anne and tell her just how much he loved her.