Fitzwilliam breathed deeply, taking in the crisp, clean, fresh air of the cool December afternoon. As he rode over the fields, he had one place in mind—the cove, his boyhood secret place where he and David had spent most of their time in the summer.
The cove was nestled back amongst a grove of ancient Spanish oaks that towered high over the earth. And in the heart of the cove was a large waterfall, roaring down out of the side of a steep hill, tumbling into a natural pool where they’d swam as boys. Beside the pool, there was a moss-covered spot of ground where they would lay, staring up at the sky with nothing in particular on their minds, except maybe contemplating their futures or solving world problems. As he galloped across the fields, he remembered the carefree days of his youth, of laughter and fun, and of summers gone by. Then, he thought of the future, his wife, and another set of children who would play here one day. His heart was light and filled with joy as he rode.
Entering the grove of trees, he slowed his horse. It was a little barren this time of year, he thought as he glanced around, but it was still as he remembered it. Riding on into the heart of the cove, he stopped and dismounted and tied the horse to a low-hanging branch. Walking over to the thickly carpeted mossy floor near the waterfall, he paused, thinking that someday he would bring Elizabeth here as his wife and make love to her right here on this very spot in the wilds of the outdoors. This would be their place—a special place for them alone. Gazing at the waterfall, he closed his eyes, imagining them swimming naked in the pool. Fitzwilliam smiled, amused with where his thoughts had taken him. Someday, he promised himself, he would return, and perhaps he would build her a replica of the cabin at Longbourn on the higher ground near the falls.
Returning to the house, he hurried to the kitchen. It was late in the afternoon, well past teatime, and all the activity of the day had left him famished. Hot soup and a sandwich, along with a cup of hot chocolate, were just the things he needed. After eating, he went to the library and selected the first volume of his ancestral grandfather’s works, The Masters of Pemberley Vol. I, which contained a summary of the journals and writings of Fitzwilliam Alexander Darcy 1806—l866. He had read it, along with the others that went with it, several years ago, but he felt the need to read it again. Signing the register, indicating he had the book, he took it to his room.
Making himself comfortable, he settled in to read. Hours passed as he turned the pages. …Hmm, it’s just as I remember…He felt the obligation and sense of duty thrust upon him deeply and at such an early age, too. Fitzwilliam laughed softly. He was proud—like me in some respects. Pride under good regulation is never a bad thing. He shrugged. …He weighed his decisions carefully, as I do… What time is it? He glanced at the clock upon the chimneypiece. …It’s time. Pulling out his mobile, he keyed in her number.
“Elizabeth, love, how was your day?”
“Oh, well enough, I suppose. I’m getting ready for Christmas. We’ve been baking cakes, pies, and cookies. Kat made some fudge.”
“What kind did she make?”
“Umm…French vanilla with candied cherries and triple chocolate with pecans and raisins—my absolute favorite.” She giggled. “If I don’t stay out of it, I’m going to get fat.”
“I doubt you’ll become fat,” he laughed, “but just in case, you need to exercise.”
“Well, I asked for that one didn’t I? So tell me, how are you doing, and what are you up to?”
“I’m here at Pemberley looking over the estate and reading family history. And I’m up to six foot two.” He chuckled as her peal of laughter echoed in his ear.
“Fitzwilliam, you know perfectly well what I meant. But I can see what you’re up to. It seems you are reminiscing about old times, as I often do.”
“You know me well. That’s exactly what I’m doing—that and dreaming of you. I’d like to share my home with you someday.”
“I’d love to see it.” She sighed. “I love you, you know.”
“Yes, I do know. I love you, too, and I can’t wait to see you again.”
“And I you,” she whispered softly. “I suppose we should go. I know it’s late there.”
“Yes, it is, but before we say goodnight, I have one more thing to tell you. I stopped by Longbourn Parish today before coming up to Pemberley, and my hunch is correct. John Bennet is the brother to my ancestral grandfather, Edward, so we are distantly related. The church is still intact, but I’m afraid the house is gone.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me on either account, given what we’ve already discussed. Nor am I surprised with your discovery, given what we have discovered here on my side of the family, although I am glad to have it confirmed. We are indeed cousins.” She laughed. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, I plan to go through the records I have here and discover what I can about the English Bennets. I’ll do that tomorrow before I leave for London.”
“Good. I’d really like to know about them.”
“Elizabeth,” Fitzwilliam hesitated, “do you suppose we are the fulfillment of the promise John Bennet made to my grandfather all those years ago? Do you think it could be us?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought much about it, but I suppose it could be. To me it’s just an interesting coincidence, and it’s something to draw us closer, but I don’t think there’s anything to it more than that. Do you? I mean you don’t really believe in such things as Fate or Divine Providence do you?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. All that truly matters is that I love you, and I want you for my wife. That’s all I care about.”
“I love you, too, but Fitzwilliam, it is late, and I need to go. We’ll talk about this when you come back.”
“All right, darling. I’ll ring you tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Goodnight.”
As he hung up the phone, Darcy sighed heavily. Every night after talking to her, he felt the gnawing separation. He couldn’t wait to see her again, to hold her, to make love to her. Glancing around the room, he breathed deeply as he turned down the bed and crawled between the covers. Someday this would be their room. Three hundred and fifty years of Darcy men had brought their brides to this room, and over forty children had been conceived in this very bed. Elizabeth belonged here… with him…in his life and in his bed. He smiled. His day was coming. He hadn’t written in one for years, but tomorrow he would begin a new journal…one to record his new life.
Chapter Seventeen
…he’d once married for love and look what had come of it…
Christmas came with all the Darcys home for the holidays. Georgiana had just arrived and was anxiously awaiting her brothers’ return from their shopping outing. She smiled in contentment as she put her presents under the tree. The house was beautifully decorated with two large silk trees, one downstairs in the music room, and one upstairs in the formal sitting area, both adorned with fine hand-blown glass German ornaments and antique handmade silk roses. The stairwells were decked with silk boughs of holly mingled with pinecone-laden fir, and there were elegant handmade candle arrangements in every room. The servants and professional decorators had garnished the house like a scene from a Victorian Christmas painting. All of it was lovely.
She sighed as she cast a cursory look at the grandfather clock. Where could they be? Walking over to the window and gazing out, she saw David’s red Alfa Romeo come to a stop in front of the house. David! As soon as she heard David’s rich laughter, she ran to greet her brothers. “Fitzwilliam! David! I’m so very glad to see you both.” She flew into David’s arms, hugging him tightly.
David lifted her off the floor and swung her around. “Georgie, you’re home!” He kissed her cheek and hugged her tight. Releasing him, she grabbed Fitzwilliam next.
“Georgie,” he said as he kissed her cheek.
“I’ve missed you both terribly. Come,” she said, taking them by the hand, “let’s go for a chat. It’s been ages since we’ve talked.”
All three walked, smiling and laughing, arm in arm to the drawing room where Georgiana called for tea. They talked for hours, catching up on everyone’s news, with Fitzwilliam telling her about Elizabeth, mentioning that he was to be married, and that Bingley was to marry Elizabeth’s sister.
“Fitzwilliam, I want to come to the wedding. I have to meet these ladies. Any woman who can capture my oldest brother’s heart must indeed be special, for I know how long it’s been since you’ve seriously dated, and I was beginning to worry about you.” She clasped his hand and gently squeezed it. “I couldn’t be happier. I know I will love her.”
Georgiana turned and cast a loving smile towards her brother David. “I haven’t lost hope in you, either. Someday a beautiful woman is going to turn your world upside down when you’re least expecting it.”
David chuckled. “Don’t get your hopes up. Marriage is not for me. I want to stay single and spoil yours and Fitzwilliam’s children rotten.”
“I hear what you say, David, but I can still have my dreams for you,” she said as she reached for his hand. “You will take me with you to the wedding, won’t you?”
“Georgie, you know I will. I could never deny you anything, except perhaps a sister-in-law.” He winked and laughed.
“You cheeky devil, but I shall tell you what we will do. Whilst I’m here, I want us all to go to the theatre. The Phantom of the Opera is playing, and I so want to see it. We never spend any time together,” she pouted, “and I want us to do so this Christmas, just the three of us. That’s what I want for Christmas—some of your time.” Georgiana released David’s hand and turned back to Fitzwilliam.
“We’ll go, then,” Fitzwilliam agreed. “You’re right, we don’t spend quality time together, and I want that to change. I want you to come and spend the summer with me. You will love Elizabeth and her family, and they will love you,” he said with a smile. “The farm is beautiful, and I can only imagine how much more so it is in the summer with the fields planted in corn and wheat and the animals with their little ones.”
“But won’t you have to be here with Father?” Georgiana asked.
“Yes, I will, but we can still have a few weeks to ourselves. I want you to see Longbourn Farm. Then we will all come back to England together.”
“Well,” she smiled warmly, “I’d love to see it. Now come, we need to prepare for dinner. You know how Father is, and he’s in an even fouler mood than usual. I thought he’d be glad to see me, but he barely acknowledged me,” Georgiana whispered, hurt evident in her features.
“Don’t worry,” Fitzwilliam reassured her. “It has to do with David and me, not you, but let’s not talk about it. Instead, let’s enjoy the holidays,” he said, giving his sister an affectionate hug as they walked towards the stairs.
~*~
Dinner was quiet, stiff, and formal as per usual with no one speaking. George noticed the tension and assumed he had created it, but it was Georgiana who took the initiative and broke the stifling silence.
“Father, would you like for me to play for you? It’s been ages since we all had a night together. Would you like that?”
George Darcy put down his knife and fork and looked at his daughter. “Georgiana, that sounds lovely. The grand piano hasn’t been played since you were here last spring, and it’s Christmas Eve. Perhaps it would be pleasant.”
So that night after dinner, Georgiana led the family party to the music room where she sat and played a variety of Christmas carols while she and her brothers sang. Mr. Darcy sat for the event, watching his grown children, regret slowly passing over him as he observed them.
…She plays like you, Anne, and she looks like you, too. I never noticed that before. Anne… Anne, what have we done? I barely know them, especially my daughter. He sighed deeply. “Georgiana, you play very well.”
“Thank you, Father. Since you’re rarely complimentary, I’ll take it as a great compliment,” Georgiana said tenderly, her eyes fixed upon her father.
“Georgiana, it is a heartfelt compliment, and I should give them more often.” Mr. Darcy smiled. “Now if you will excuse me, I’m tired.”
“But Father, aren’t you going to open presents with us?” Georgiana asked.
“No, dear, I am not. I will see you in the morning.”
Mr. Darcy wearily got up and walked towards the stairs. When he left the room, Georgiana turned to her brother. “What is wrong with Father? He looks so tired.”
“As far as I know, it’s nothing physical. He has been disappointed in us, but other than that, I have no idea,” David replied, rather perplexed.
“Why would he be disappointed in you?” Georgiana glanced between her brothers. “Both of you are excellent men.”
“Well, it seems we’re not living up to the Darcy image and name. He wants us both married—and to women he picks, not to whom we would want.” Fitzwilliam paused for a moment, furrowing his brow. “He doesn’t know about my plans yet, so if you would, please let me tell him.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t want to cause problems.”
Fitzwilliam rose from his seat and strolled across the room to the tree. “Georgiana, you could never cause problems. You’re far too sweet for that. Even if it did slip, it would not be your fault. But just the same, let’s keep it quiet until I’m ready to tell him. Now, let’s exchange gifts, have some wine, and continue to play and sing. David, you or I will play next.”
David laughed. “I haven’t practiced since last year. But if that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”
They opened presents, laughing and playing. Fitzwilliam played and sang while Georgiana and David danced. Then David sang and played while Fitzwilliam and Georgiana danced. And on it continued until the hour grew very late. But before retiring for the night, Fitzwilliam proposed a Christmas toast. “To the future. May we find what is important and have the courage to embrace it. Let us be together this time next year with our family intact.”
Touching their glasses, David added, “To the Darcys, may we be happy in the New Year to come.”
~*~
That night, while lying in bed, Fitzwilliam thought about what next year might bring. If all went as he intended, he would have his wife with him and perhaps there might be someone else, too. Maybe they would all be together at Pemberley. He smiled and released a long sigh at the pleasant thought. …Christmas… Christmas is for children…maybe…just perhaps. Hmm, I think I’ll ring Elizabeth. He picked up his mobile and made the call.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Fitzwilliam! Merry Christmas to you, too. I so hoped you would call. I miss you. I wish we could have been together for the holidays. It snowed, and all I could think about was you—and us playing in the snow.”
“I miss you, too, my darling, and I would love to play in the snow with you, but our time will come. I’ll be home New Year’s Eve. I can’t wait to see you, Liz.”
“Home?” Elizabeth laughed. “I thought England was your home.”
Elizabeth may have laughed, but Fitzwilliam did not. “Elizabeth, home is wherever you are. And next Christmas, I want us to spend it together. You know, I’ve thought about our last night together. It’s possible that we could have an addition to our family by next Christmas.”
“Is that what you would really want?” she softly asked. “I mean, we’re not even married.”
“Yes, it is what I would want. Or at the very least, I wouldn’t mind, and we will be married soon. We’ll talk about it when I get there. If you aren’t, then that will be okay, but if you are, I will be very happy.”
“Well,” she hesitated, “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not pregnant.”
“I see, but we still have time. However, that’s not why I called.” He paused for a second, hiding his disappointment so that his voice would not betray him. “I want to hear all about your day. Tell me, darling, how is your Christmas holiday?” he asked with a smile on his face as he propped back on his bed for the long, but wel
comed, dissertation which he knew she would give.
“Well, let me see. I’ve already told you we had a major snowstorm. The power was off for three days. We got twelve inches out here on the farm, and I believe they got eight in town. It began to snow while we were out searching for the perfect trees, but fortunately, the storm didn’t hit until we had finally found what we were looking for.”
“Perfect trees? You mean you cut your own Christmas trees—two trees?”
“Yes, two trees. A cedar for me in the upstairs sitting room, and a Scotch pine for Jane downstairs in the formal den.”
“How fascinating that must have been, picking out your own trees,” he muttered.
“Well, Daniel didn’t think so. He was exasperated with my insistence that it be perfect with no holes.”
“I can see him now.” Fitzwilliam softly laughed. “He probably wanted to cut the first one he saw, thinking it was good enough.”
“Exactly, but I wouldn’t have it. However, when I saw the storm clouds moving in, I knew we had to hurry, or we could find ourselves up the creek without a paddle very quickly. But since we were in the cove, we would’ve had shelter if it had come to that. Anyway, we made it back just in time before the sky opened up.”
He smiled. …I can think of nothing better than being snowbound with you in that cabin.
“Of course, we were worried about the snow, or at least I was because my sister Mary Beth was coming home for Christmas with her fiancé, André. He dances with my sister in New York, but anyway, back to what I was saying. I was worried.”
“Did they arrive safely?” he asked with a slight frown.
The Cumberland Plateau Page 25