“Don’t worry about that, darling. Everything is taken care of. How are you? What did the doctor say?”
“I’ve had a severe reaction to this year’s pollen.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes, Dr. Griffin’s nurse says it’s one of the worst years on record. And I also have the beginnings of a sinus infection, so he gave me an antibiotic and some prescription grade antihistamines. I’m on my way to Blue Front Drugs right now. Then I’m stopping in at the Cut and Curl to see my aunts and to pick up some shampoo and conditioner. I’ll be home shortly.”
“Take care, love, and don’t worry about a thing.”
She smiled as she slid her cell phone shut.
~*~
Fitzwilliam had the table set and the food arranged when Elizabeth came through the door. “How were Bette and Florence? Is everything all right? You look a little perturbed,” he said, taking her coat and hanging it on the rack.
“They’re just as fine as they can be. It’s not them,” she said, following him into the dining room. “When I walked into the shop, they had Fox News on, complete with the latest happenings in the courtroom today. It seems that Liddy gave some damning testimony and apparently the defense tore her apart,” Elizabeth sighed as he helped her into her seat. “They are making her out to be a low class whore who used Jackie Lee for his money. They practically called her a prostitute. Can you believe that? The gall of that man,” she said, shaking her head. “And then there was an older woman who didn’t realize who I was before she opened her mouth. She spoke her true feelings about my family, or I should say about Aunt Lydia, since she knows my aunt from their school days. She was quite embarrassed when my aunts introduced me. She apologized profusely, but I told her not to worry about it.”
“What did this woman say?” Fitzwilliam frowned as he took his seat.
“Well, she went on and on about how high and mighty we’ve always been, and about how Lydia was such an arrogant snob which, I might add, there is some justification for that position, but she painted us all with the same brush. You see, one of my distant cousins owns a distillery in Fugie, Kentucky, which was in operation as a moonshine still when making whiskey was illegal. It was somewhat of a scandal back then. She had to mention that in conjunction with what is going on now. Anyway, she said it was about time we were exposed for what we are with vice always surrounding us. Apparently, from what the old biddy says, my aunt was quite wild in her younger days.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I learned she ran away in the 60s and was a drug addict.”
“And you knew nothing of this?”
“Well, I had heard things. I knew that she and some man she dated hitchhiked to Woodstock in 1969 and that my grandfather had to track her down. And I knew she was the only one of my father’s siblings who flunked out of college. She and my father never got along.” Elizabeth unfolded her napkin and began to eat. “She made fun of him because he was always studying or helping my grandfather around the farm while she was busy being popular. She never did any work. Grandmother Bennett doted on her because she was their only daughter. But whenever she was in trouble, it was my father who came to her rescue, and now it’s Robert’s turn to salvage things.”
“I’m sorry.” Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Was there anything else said?”
“No, except my aunts told me while I was checking out that we are the talk of the town. Liddy’s known all over the county as loose trash. Her name is associated with some of the worst sorts in this community.” Elizabeth picked up her fork. “Bette told me that Maybelle Perkins stopped by yesterday and announced that Jane and I will not be asked to join the Ladies Home Gardening Club this spring, and that our applications for the Plateau County Historical Society have been rejected.” Elizabeth glanced at Fitzwilliam from across the table. “I told Bette to tell her ‘That’s all right. Neither Jane nor I were interested in being a part of their snob society anyway,’” she said, taking a bite of salad. “It’s awful. Just awful. How am I going to continue to hold my head up in this town? I just don’t know.”
Fitzwilliam reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be all right, darling. You wouldn’t have time for their clubs at any rate. If all goes well, you’ll be with me in England this summer. Anything else?”
“No, not really, but I need to stay clear of the Cut and Curl for a while. It’s the gossip hub of Walnut Grove, and right now I don’t want to hear it.”
“And how did your aunts react to what’s being said?”
“They made light of it, and that’s what I intend to do. Ten years from now no one will even care.”
“That’s my girl. Let’s put this out of mind and not let it dampen our evening. After we eat and mark papers, I want to finish reading to you. We’ve had to put it off for long enough; tonight I want to finish the first volume.”
“That sounds good to me. I’d rather not think about the trial, Liddy, or my aunt.”
~*~
After dinner, the couple settled into bed. Reaching for The Masters of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam opened it to the place he had marked, and began to read, picking up with Elizabeth Bennet visiting Pemberley with her aunt and Uncle Gardiner. Divine Providence had intervened. Of all places, that was the last one where Darcy would have expected to find her. At first, he thought it was but a dream, but there she was in the flesh, looking more beautiful than he remembered. This time he was determined to win her love and assumed nothing where she was concerned.
He made every effort to show her that he had attended to her rightful assessments of his flawed character. All was going well, and by her smiles and pleasant conversation, he was almost certain she returned his affection. His intention was to propose once more as he rode out to meet her at the inn in Lambton, only to once again be upstaged by his boyhood friend. George Wickham had eloped with Lydia.
“Oh my gosh!” Elizabeth interjected. “It’s just like Liddy. Did Lydia not realize what she had done? A man could get away with such a thing, but not a young lady—not back then. That girl was impulsive and reckless, and stupid.”
“Oh, she was all of that and more.”
“Well, read on. I want to know what happened next.”
Elizabeth snuggled closer while he continued. He read of George Wickham’s seduction of Elizabeth’s youngest sister, which his ancestor was sure had been meant to thwart him. Regardless, his ancestor felt the impact of such an act keenly, blaming himself for the deed because his pride had prevented him from exposing George for the worthless man that he was. And so, as the woman he loved left for Longbourn, Fitzwilliam Darcy left for London, determined to right his perceived wrong. No matter the cost, he would save his love’s family’s reputation. After many days of searching, he discovered the couple in the seediest part of town.
As his wife clung to his every word, Fitzwilliam read of George and Lydia’s forced marriage, of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s visit to Longbourn, and finally of his ancestor’s second proposal to Elizabeth Bennet, which she finally accepted. Then there was the courtship, the wedding, the honeymoon, and Fitzwilliam’s reflections on his wedding night, and the subsequent conception of their first child, Alexander Bennet Darcy, born nine months later. Thus, Volume I ended. Fitzwilliam closed the book and dropped it in his lap.
“Fitzwilliam, this story is fascinating. Poor Fitzwilliam. Poor Elizabeth! Their story was gut-wrenching.” Elizabeth said. “They did work through their problems at least, and it looks like they went on to live a very happy life.”
“Yes, they did, but it wasn’t without its trials and tribulations. When we go to England, we’ll learn more about those in Volume II. But let’s suffice to say the road to happily ever after was rocky. Elizabeth Darcy never was fully accepted by London society and her husband paid a heavy price for his choice in terms of his family. His Aunt Catherine never spoke to him and Lord Matlock only begrudgingly did,” Darcy said. “Now, tell me, did you notice any resemblance between your cousin Liddy and my ancestral grandmother’s sister Lydia?”<
br />
“I couldn’t miss it. It was so obvious. I understand from my father and Uncle Robert that Aunt Lydia was quite the attention seeker when she was younger, and you know what I told you earlier. However, she has improved with age, especially since our marriage.”
“Yes,” Fitzwilliam chuckled, “I think she must have. She’s not so bad to be around, but that cousin of yours I could easily do without. She’s a little more reserved since her arrest, but before, I don’t think I had ever met a more obnoxious, spoilt brat.”
He pulled his arm out from under Elizabeth and stretched it to relieve the ache. Throwing his head back on his pillow, he glanced over at his wife who was looking mischievous and attempting to suppress a giggle.
“What are you thinking?”
She shook her head and smirked. “I’m thinking about your namesake. The nerve of that man! He deserved the set down he got. I would have given him a good piece of my mind, too, and probably sooner rather than later. I’m very proud of my cousin. I would have liked her very much. She had the infamous Bennett spunk.”
“Bennett spunk, huh? More like cheeky impertinence to rival his pride.”
“Whatever it was, she was his equal when it came to a strong will and self-confidence.”
“Then I suppose it was a good match, because that, love, was the famous Darcy pride on exhibit at its very best. Our family has a strong tendency towards a superiority complex, but a few of us have learnt from history to keep it in check.”
“You will get no argument from me in that regard.”
He kissed her cheek. “There is nothing wrong with family pride when it’s kept under good regulation, or when there is a true superiority of mind, as he told her. I’m a lot like him in many respects.” He picked up the book and placed it back on his nightstand before gathering his wife in his arms.
“Well,” she laughed quietly, “I don’t think you were ever quite as bad as he was, though you do have a good measure of self-confidence. I’ll give you that.”
“Perhaps not as bad, but I do have some of the same problems he had when it comes to mingling with people I’m unfamiliar with, and self-confident or not, I did have a problem meeting you that first time. It took all of the courage I had to come to the coffee shop that day.”
“I never knew that.” She looked at him in wonder. “You always seemed so sure of yourself.”
“Well, it’s true. I didn’t come with Charles to your house after I discovered who you were because I didn’t want to appear too obvious. I wanted our meeting to seem accidental, even though I planned it. If you remember, I didn’t come back to the coffee shop for two days.”
“Yes, I did wonder about that. I was expecting, or rather hoping, you would. Why didn’t you?”
He chuckled. “A man never really knows how to read a woman’s mind, and you appeared hesitant at first, but with our next encounter, I felt I at least had a chance.”
“Fitzwilliam,” she gazed at him intently, “I’m truly surprised. I never thought you to be shy.”
“Images aren’t necessarily reality, but I have a tendency to rise to the occasion when need be, just like my ancestor. That’s another thing we have in common. We both sought out what we wanted in life and pursued the women we loved once we had made up our mind, and for him, that took quite a lot of courage. You have to understand, it was unsuitable during Regency times for a gentleman, especially one of his station in life, to marry a woman not in his social sphere, but I’m glad he did. He had to struggle to overcome his own pride and propose a second time. The odds were against them, but they made it.”
“He must have really loved her then, because I do understand what it was like from my own family journals. Fitzwilliam risked his heart and his position in society for Elizabeth, which proved to be a loss for him in some respects.”
“But he also gained. They had a full, rich life together. You will see that even though they were snubbed in London, Derbyshire’s society more than made up for it. Mrs. Darcy was greatly loved by all who knew her.” He paused for a moment. “Elizabeth, when a man truly loves a woman, he gives her the power to bring him down or build him up.”
“Well, it’s the same for a woman. When she opens her heart, she gives a man the power to wound her. I guess the one who loves the most is also the most vulnerable. Now, tell me, which of the four Darcy sons are you descended from?”
“The first son,” he beamed, “Alexander Bennet Darcy, and if we are fortunate enough to have a son, it is my desire that he be named Alexander Bennet Darcy as well. It was a tradition in the Darcy family for the first son to have the mother’s maiden name. I was one of the few exceptions to that, but if you agree, we will return to the tradition. Sometimes all the children had the mother’s maiden name as part of their name. When the time comes, we’ll consider it as well, and we’ll spell it with one ‘t’ as our ancestors did.”
“I think I might be agreeable to that. We’ve never done it in my family, but it sounds like a nice gesture of respect. Besides, I love old family customs. Family means a great deal to me, and I’m a stickler for holding to family traditions.”
Fitzwilliam stroked his wife’s arm. “You know, Elizabeth, with all of our exploring of our family histories, I’ve thought a lot about the inscription on John Bennet’s headstone. Charles and I both are descended through Edward Bennet and you and Jane through John. I believe the hand of Providence reached out and brought us to this place to fulfill a destiny. When I came here, I had no idea I would find a wife—and not just a wife, but a lost branch of my family that I didn’t even know existed. Together all four of us fulfilled an ancestor’s promise. Our marriages reunite the house.”
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “I don’t know. I still don’t believe in the supernatural…myths or superstitions, but I will admit that in the abstract sense, you are correct. However, I don’t think it was us or Jane and Charles that John had in mind. I imagine he was thinking about the family in his own time. But whatever the method, in a roundabout way, our marriages do complete John’s promise to his brother, no matter how coincidental, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Fitzwilliam laughed, “they do at that. In fact, they do more than just that—they complete the promise on both continents. Someday I must return to England, but Charles has no such obligations, and I do believe he will be staying here. As you see, my love, John and Edward have the best of both outcomes. Their family is united both here and in England. And Liz, I’m not so sure about the paranormal elements of it. I think they do know. Call it a feeling, but I believe they are aware of who we are.”
“Then, if that be the case, I’m sure they both must be happy wherever they are, but Jane’s notion of white doves is out of the question. That I don’t buy, and I won’t even listen to it. We are the makers of our own destiny, not doves and spirits. You and Charles are here because Dr. Dickens made you an offer and you accepted it. There is no other explanation but that. No spirit had anything to do with it.”
“Well, as to the doves, I might agree with you. I’m still unsure. And as for John and Edward, I don’t know if they’re happy, but I’m delighted. Charles and I have discussed it, and when this term is over, we are going to have a stone marker made for the cemetery, commemorating the date the promise was fulfilled—our wedding date. What do you think?”
“Whatever you want to do, darling. Now let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. We’re going to Longbourn to help my uncle with the spring calves.”
“All right, love.”
He scooped her into his arms, and after making love, they drifted off, content in one another’s embrace.
Chapter Thirty-five
…I love you, Liz. I hope you know that…
Elizabeth called shortly after Fitzwilliam’s last class had let out, telling him they needed a loaf of bread and a gallon of orange juice. After Elizabeth’s call, he dropped his Latin text off at his office and picked up a stack of essays from his Classical Philosophy class he
needed to mark. Placing them in his briefcase, he left for the day. As he walked past the student lounge in Morton Hall, he glanced in. The television was on and various staff members and students were gathered around watching TRU TV. Fitzwilliam shook his head and walked on by. Everywhere he went the blasted television was on with the town members glued to the set. It was the biggest thing since the OJ trial, and it was the most significant thing to have ever happened in this sleepy little town. If Fitzwilliam had heard it once, he’d heard it a thousand times: Walnut Grove was finally on the map. Even the Piggly Wiggly had a set tuned to the trial. Was there no escaping it? Apparently not.
As he drove home from the market, his mobile rang. He reached over and picked it up. It was David.
“David, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon, is there a problem?”
“Yes, there’s a problem. Are you watching the news?”
Fitzwilliam released an exasperated breath. “How can I escape it? It’s everywhere I go.”
“It’s the same here. I’m in Atlanta for a marketing convention, and no matter where I go the sets are tuned in to that blasted trial. It seems all of America is watching this. Everyone is talking about it—it and that woman. She just had to wear a red dress to court. They’re calling her the lady in red, and I’m afraid the conversation is not flattering. Fitzwilliam, this is worse than I would have imagined. I don’t care how her defense attorney tries to spin it. People don’t see her as a victim at all.”
“Well, it’s even worse here.” Fitzwilliam laughed sarcastically. “Every dirty little secret about Liddy and the family is being brought to light. The Bennett family seems to be the talk of the town at the moment. The local television stations from Knoxville, Chattanooga, and Nashville are here, interviewing town folks and prying and digging, trying to catch the next bit of breaking news. The whole town is talking about it, from the clerk at the drugstore to the men at Murphy’s Pool Hall. Even the faculty members are discussing it. I can’t tell you how many times the room hushes when I walk in for a meeting.”
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