Love Calls Again

by Lucianne Elsworth

  Such was the state of his mind when the sight of the four poster bed in his bedchamber assailed him with the most preposterous thought. The image of his wedding night had pounced upon him. It was not strange that his imagination played a wicked trick on his loins. To add to his mortification, he noticed the look of his valet whilst helping him get rid of his breeches.

  "That will do, Wilkinson. You may leave me now," he hissed to his servant.

  The man rose to his feet and without a word left his master half undressed. Fitzwilliam did away with the rest of his clothes and, decidedly aroused, stepped into the copper bathtub that had been prepared for him. He let his body droop and submerged into the soapy bath whilst, quite diverted, he discerned his torch of love peeping conspicuously through the hot steam.

  "There will soon be a little diversion for you, my friend. Keep calm for now," he said, and closed his eyes grinning, satisfied with his own manhood's prompt reply to his reverie. Judging from its present state, he would certainly not have any daunting experience in his wedding bed. He sighed heavily and indulged his thoughts with more of his beloved. They had spent the most glorious morning of his life, when holding her tight to his body he had kissed her tantalising lips at will. He noticed the effect this was having on his now hypersensitive masculinity. He shifted his position, trying to think of something more distracting in order to subdue his arousal but to no avail. As if having a will of its own, his blade refused to submit to his orders.

  "Remind me to take you to court martial first thing in the morning. If you do something like this in her presence, I shall not be responsible for my actions." he chuckled.

  "You were saying sir…" the voice of his manservant reached him from behind. The man was getting a bucket of hot water to wash the soap from his hair. Richard straightened a little and his manhood was lost in the whirl.

  "Err… I was not talking to you Wilkinson. Let that water be cold, please."

  "Cold, sir?"

  "Cold. I fear I am in dire need of some refreshment."

  "As you wish, sir"

  After the cold bucket of water, Richard wrapped his waist in a towel and swiftly slid into his nightshirt. He sat up in bed for a while, and having snatched a book from his personal library, began to scan the scribbled pages in search of prudent thoughts. But inevitably his mind would drift to the sweet caresses she had bestowed to the alert skin of his neck. That, in due course, led him to rest his thoughts on the exquisite feeling of his tongue exploring her mouth.

  This will not do.

  The hardness of his pride had lifted the pristine silk sheet covering his waist in a post-like manner that reminded him of the tents soldiers used when camping out. Undoubtedly, he was still young, his seed was still urgent. He pondered for a while on the visit he was planning to pay to his fiancée on the morrow. Notwithstanding his willpower, recent events benefited the implementation of long forgotten manual techniques.

  It would be a long night.

  Eight

  —

  Farewell to Arms

  Richard Fitzwilliam awoke very early the next morning after having spent a sleepless night fighting his erotic musings of his fiancée. He hardly recognised himself. Notwithstanding his amorous reveries, Richard longed to see the real Elizabeth to apprise her of the good news of her father's consent to their nuptials. But a disturbing thought kept coming to his mind. It was the look upon Elizabeth's father's face at the intelligence of his prospective commission. If such had been his reaction, what could he expect to be hers?

  The apprehension of being the source of further suffering to his beloved was intolerable. More often than not he had been in charge of informing a widow of one of his officers' demise. He loathed the feeling. He pondered a few minutes of the probability of his own decease in battle. It was rare to be certain, though not non-existent. Nevertheless he would be away from home after a mere year of marriage. What if he left her with child? She would have to bear the responsibility on her own, let alone he would be unable to witness the magnificent event of his own firstborn's birth. He had not thought of that.

  And then there was also this issue of Elizabeth's suffering. Her father had warned him against causing her any more grief. Apparently she had had some sort of sorrow of the heart. Was it possible that she had been in love with Darcy? She had had some tender feelings for him, he knew that. But had it been love? Had her suffering and grief been produced by Darcy's wedding vows? Perchance she had expected Darcy to ask for her hand. How distressed she must have felt when his cousin proposed her to be his mistress. The scoundrel! How dare he attempt such pursuit! But then again, he reckoned his cousin's reaction to Elizabeth's charms had been only natural.

  He reflected on Darcy for a while. What would be wise to do in a case such as this? Should he apprise him of his engagement to Elizabeth before the rest of the ton? He would have to tell him sooner rather than later. And he must admit Darcy was his favourite relative, almost his brother. He also knew Darcy had always turned to him and only him whenever he had needed advice or comfort. He could not bear open a breach betwixt them. No, he would have to face him and break the news before it reached him from elsewhere. Surely he would understand. Of course he would not confess the techniques and strategies he had used to win the lady's heart. He would start with their meeting in London.

  Now, where was Darcy at this time of the year? Where would he spend Christmas? He would ask his mother. Surely she knew of her favourite nephew's whereabouts.

  He went downstairs and breakfasted alone before any member of his family would pop their nose into the breakfast parlour. Then, he cheerfully made his way to Cheapside and paid the so-desired visit to the Gardiners. Elizabeth was getting ready for a stroll in the park. As her fiancé, he was the rightful companion for her morning walks. But Madeleine Gardiner would not leave her niece without a chaperone. She had instructed her eldest daughter to follow her cousin should her fiancé feel in the mood to accompany her to the park. And so the three of them departed for a chilly stroll.

  The fact that they were chaperoned by so young a person helped diminish Richard's passion notably. In lieu of more pleasurable pursuits, the lovers kept their conversation turning around their future family. On watching his would-be cousin playing with other children in the park, Richard began to speculate on his own future children's nature. Yet, after perceiving the crimsoned complexion of his betrothed, Richard reckoned the need for a change of subject and proceeded to present her with his most recent resolutions.

  "I shall quit the Regulars." he said resolutely.

  "And may I be enlightened on your reasons to do so?" she pouted.

  "You do not wish me to quit?" he asked smirking playfully.

  "I am loath to part with your regimentals." She giggled playing with his lapels. "You look ravishing in a red coat". No sooner had she said that than Elizabeth regretted it.

  Wanton girl! What must he think of you! I am no better than Lydia!

  "My love, I would loathe to deprive you of any pleasure. I shall keep my red coat and wear it for you alone any time you wish to satisfy your appetite," he said in reference to the ravishing thing.

  Elizabeth blushed, a smirk drawn on her features. "Tell me why is it that you will quit your post?"

  "France is at war, and my regiment is to go there any moment now. In that case I would be summoned again, if not to fight, then to train new officers, and would be compelled to leave the country."

  "Oh!" 'Twas all that Elizabeth would utter.

  "I do not wish to be the source of any sorrow for you, my love. Although there is little possibility that I should endanger my life, I would rather stay in England with you, and help you in this new experience of becoming my wife."

  "That is very appealing, indeed sir," she said with a smile.

  "I knew you would approve."

  "And what would you do in lieu?"

  "That is yet to be decided. Any ideas?"

  "I hate to confess I am at lost as to what
the second son of an Earl can do upon quitting his profession. Perchance you can enter into trade?"

  "Trade? I would rather die in battle before that. No, that would be definitely beneath me," he said, grinning at her. "I need to be in the country, ride horses, attend to an estate. That sort of thing."

  "Then we should move into the country, rent a small cottage and start our own farm," she said playfully.

  "You would do that, would you not?"

  "Indeed I would. I would help you in anything. I am used to working in an orchard and I am well trained in gardening," she said in earnest.

  "I bet you are, my dear. But I am glad to assure you that it will not be necessary. My own income as a retired colonel as well as my small inheritance will suffice for us both. I presume I can ask my own good father to help me get a living, or even Darcy might have a good idea. He has always been a good friend as well as my favourite cousin."

  Elizabeth did not answer. The mere mention of Mr Darcy's name was enough inducement to silence her. Notwithstanding she had expected Mr Darcy's name to emerge at any moment, the effects of such occurrence on her countenance had been unbeknownst to her until then. She knew her face had crimsoned profusely. Gracious Lord, he will be my cousin, too!

  Richard had gone on talking about their future together, but she had stopped listening, too much concerned with the perspective of her fiancé's requesting counselling from Mr Darcy. It was unfortunate that her mind would drift away in so easy a manner now that Richard required her to answer a question she had not heard.

  "What say you?"

  She smiled warmly and risked. "Whatever you find suitable."

  "Then that is settled. I shall resign my post next month. We will rent a house in Derbyshire next to Pemberley." Elizabeth's eyes had widened as wide could be.

  Derbyshire? Of all places.

  "Pray Richard. Why not a place closer to London?"

  "I am Miss Darcy's guardian you know, and it will be exceedingly good to be near her. She did not wish to reside in Kent with her new sister and preferred to stay in London for the season and at Pemberley for the summer."

  "And where is her brother? He has not relinquished his sister to you alone, I am sure?" she asked in earnest.

  "Unfortunately for Darcy, his wife could not move to his estate. She has been rather sick ever since the wedding and has chosen to stay in Kent where the staff is well-versed with her ailments and remedies. Darcy of course cannot resign his estate at Pemberley, so he will spend much of his time in Derbyshire and the rest in Kent."

  "I see, poor Mr Darcy. He must be exhausted with the exertion"

  "Indeed. To make matters worse Miss Darcy will be even lonelier than before. I am sure your company will do her very well."

  "Are you planning for us to see a good deal of the Darcys, then?"

  "Pray, Elizabeth. Tell me. You would not like that?"

  "Oh yes, I would, of course. I would love to help you with Miss Darcy's guardianship."

  "I thank you. I am exceedingly pleased that you should feel so. I am thinking about offering my services to Darcy as his administrator. With us living so close to his estate, he will feel free to stay at Rosings and take care of his family while I can attend to Pemberley and Georgiana. Truth be told I am also a little concerned about her welfare."

  "What do you mean, Richard?

  "She is not out yet, but soon will be. Your help will be capital, since my cousin Anne cannot attend balls and assemblies. I know you would love her when you meet her. She is an adorable creature."

  "I have already met her." The Colonel's countenance betrayed absolute astonishment.

  "You have?"

  "Yes."

  "When, may I ask?"

  "Last summer, at her own house in Derbyshire."

  "You have been at Pemberley?" he asked incredulously.

  "Yes, Mr Darcy and I met by chance there whilst I was visiting his house."

  His complexion was decidedly gaining a crimson colour and his eyes betrayed his rising fury. The typical Fitzwilliam's disposition, so openly displayed by Lady Catherine and Lord Matlock, was certainly the colonel's as well. Yet, he managed to conquer it and not a violent word did he let out in front of his fiancée. His demeanour showed his anger, though, as he failed to repress the tightened jaws and the tension in his lips. "You were visiting his house?"

  Elizabeth cast a short glimpse at Richard's bewildered eyes. If his words were not saying anything, his eyes were saying volumes. Even so, the scrutiny to which she was being subjected was anything but welcome. Initially her face held apprehension, though on averting his obvious jealousy, it quickly gave way to amusement. "Yes, I was touring Derbyshire with my aunt and uncle Gardiner. They wanted to make the tour of the house. We thought the family was not at home, but we were wrong. Mr Darcy had arrived a day earlier than expected and we bumped into each other whilst we were in the gardens. He insisted on our staying for some refreshments."

  "I see. And when did you meet Miss Darcy?" he asked nonchalantly.

  "She and Mr Darcy called on us at the inn where we were staying in Lambton. He introduced us there and then Miss Darcy invited my party to dine at Pemberley."

  Richard took some time to recollect his thinking. What is the meaning of all this? Darcy introducing the woman he had failed to make his mistress to Georgiana? He took her to Pemberley to dine with his family and friends? That is hardly possible. If he introduced them, then it means his purposes were…

  "Miss Darcy was very civil and kind."

  "Did you like her?"

  "Yes, very much indeed."

  "I am glad you liked her. She is such a shy creature. I hope she will turn out well."

  "I dare say she will. After all she has been gone through. She has got over the most trying age."

  She had not meant to say these last words, due to the implications Darcy's disclosure of such intimate affair would have. It was a simple slip of the tongue. She reflected that sooner or later she would have to apprise her fiancé of Darcy's proposal and her rejection, hence her admission of the intelligence of the grievous event.

  "Elizabeth." Richard asked started. "What do you know about Georgiana?"

  "I must confess I know of her intended elopement with Mr Wickham."

  "Who told you about it? 'Twas a most sealed secret!"

  "'Tis a secret that I shall keep for as long as I am alive. As to who told me, it was your cousin, Mr Darcy."

  "Darcy told you about his sister's intended elopement? This is unbelievable. How so? How is it that my cousin turned to you in such a confidential manner?"

  Richard Fitzwilliam had lost control of himself. This would not be endured. He was on the verge to start his first misunderstanding with his future wife. It was fortunate, however, that their little chaperone interrupted them.

  "Cousin Elizabeth, can we go home? I am cold."

  "Of course, sweetheart. Shall we, Colonel?"

  Richard's colour had gone from red to purple. Had he been wearing his regimentals one would have thought he had crimsoned to match his coat. Ever obliging, he thus accompanied both ladies to their dwelling. Yet before parting, he admonished his fiancé.

  "We must talk about this some other time, Elizabeth. I must be apprised of the particulars of this disclosure."

  "Very well."

  When Richard reached his home there was an express awaiting him. It had been sealed with the Darcy's signet ring, though on opening it, he was surprised as to the sender. It was from Georgiana Darcy.

  Dear Fitz,

  I expect you are in good health when you receive this letter. I imagine this letter will cause you some uneasiness; unfortunately there was not much choice left for me. This letter is of an urgent character. My dear brother has not been feeling well of late. It has been three days since he has been locked in his bedchamber and no servant has been able to get through to him to this very day. He does not answer to our pleading nor has he had any single meal that has been laid on a tray at his door
. This is not the first time something like this has happened. Upon his return from Kent last year he remained in his bedchamber for almost the same time. He was in a terrible state when he opened the door. I am desolate, cousin. One can only conjecture that something awful has happened to him, yet I trust you shall be able to talk him out of this behaviour. I know not what to do. Please, come in haste.

  Yours

  GD

  Without a moment to lose, the Colonel called his manservant and told him to get his travelling clothes ready. Then asked his groom to saddle his horse and penned a brief note to be delivered to Cheapside as soon as possible.

  Despite riding the whole day, only stopping for a few hours in the night, he arrived at Pemberley late the third night after his departure from London. The whole household was unusually still awake, as there had been several retainers waiting for him with fresh horses on the road. Georgiana flew to his arms at his arrival, eyes red and welled with tears.

  "Oh Fitz, you came! I was so worried."

  "Is he still in his bedchamber?"

  Georgiana nodded. She looked much older when she was concerned.

  "Why has Mrs Reynolds not opened the door of the dressing room with her key?"

  "She has tried to, but he has locked from inside."

  Richard kissed his cousin's brow and looked at her glistening eyes.

  "I shall open the door. Worry no more." He rushed upstairs and asked everyone to leave him alone. Then, he stood in front of the massive door pondering what to say to persuade Darcy into letting him in.

  Then he did the unthinkable.

  "Darcy! I have come with a message from Miss Bennet."

  The Colonel was surprised at his own words. He did not know why he did that. He instinctively assumed that somehow Elizabeth was implicated in his cousin's uncharacteristic behaviour. For reasons unbeknown to him, he discerned he would get a reaction from the mention of her name. Perchance the impulse was rooted in his own necessity to discard such a possibility.