Love Calls Again

by Lucianne Elsworth

  She knew she would have, eventually, to confess the situation to one of them. After all, they were relatives and bound to confide in one another. Much as she would wish not to hurt either of the gentlemen's sensibilities, any delay in her decision might turn against her reputation, should the gentlemen discover the state of affairs before she disclosed it.

  She decided she would not go to bed until she would see that both gentlemen had retired to their bed chambers lest they should talk about her in her absence. Consequently, she and Jane ended up awake until late that night, long after Charles had gone to bed. The foursome remained in the library, talking amiably about frivolities and old days.

  Richard Fitzwilliam had been alert to both Darcy and Elizabeth's demeanour, sensing the discomfort in Elizabeth. His cousin, instead, looked quite confident, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth's. It was obvious there was something going on between them. The conversation they had had during dinner, though made in jest, had persuaded him that he was the third person in this couple. Much as it pained him, he had vowed not to interfere between them any more. Goodness! How could he not just let them be? Could he not recognise when a battle was lost? Remembering his shameless behaviour with her a few moments ago, he felt he owed her an apology. He would talk to Elizabeth later, asked her to forgive him and then release her for good.

  Odd as it might seem, at the same time, Richard detected an increasing partiality in Mrs Bingley for him. Jane, whose gaze Fitzwilliam had detected recurrently resting on his countenance, could not resist the pull of her heart. In noticing his looking back at her, Jane would blush and lower her eyes. Soon, he found himself trapped between his feelings of loss for Elizabeth and excitement over Jane's alluring beauty. Much as he recognised the modesty in this latter's demeanour, he also perceived her inner battle with her attraction to him and wondered at its meaning.

  Eventually, after all these ruminations, his ego, thanks to Mrs Bingley's attentions, in its prime, Colonel Fitzwilliam offered to accompany the ladies to their bedchamber door. It had been a very trying day, full of mysteries to resolve and resolutions to make. He was immediately followed by his very protective cousin, who would never allow Elizabeth to remain alone with Fitzwilliam, regardless of his self confidence.

  The two couples ascended the stairs, this time Jane quickly grabbing the Colonel's arm while Mr Darcy was happy to offer his to Elizabeth. Both gentlemen accompanied them to their bedchamber doors and bid them goodnight. A minute later Jane was in Elizabeth's room.

  "Well?" she sent her sister a meaningful look.

  Elizabeth fidgeted a little and sighed.

  "He did not propose yet, but confessed he still loves me," she said with a shrug.

  "I dare say it is quite natural 'Tis his wife's funeral. He cannot propose marriage just now. Still, I must say I am most happy for you. If he says he loves you, he will soon propose." She embraced her sister affectionately. "But tell me, Lizzy. You have never told me. Has he always loved you? Even while married to his cousin?"

  Elizabeth, then, proceeded to give her sister an exhaustive account of her dealings with Mr Darcy on the occasion of their meeting on Twelfth Night. Jane's eyes narrowed and her voice came in a whisper. "Oh, Lizzy. This is so incredible! I cannot believe we are talking of the same gentleman."

  "Jane, Mr Darcy was in liquor that night. To this day he cannot recall his exertions." Jane gasped, horrified. Her previous enthusiasm melted away. "For Heaven's sake!" "This might be a serious thing. I would loathe to be the source of distress for you, Lizzy, but do you know if this behaviour has been merely sporadic or is it his usual self?"

  "Why, I do not know."

  "This might sound rather distressing, dearest, but a man who imposes himself on a lady while in liquor is no gentleman. What will it be to you if he persists on this behaviour after becoming wedded to you? Can you imagine what you will be subjected to if Mr Darcy is a slave to alcohol?"

  Elizabeth bit her lip, nervously.

  "More importantly: Are you sure he means to marry you after he has compromised you so much? If he was in liquor, perhaps he might not be ready to admit his actions, and now he might be merely toying with you."

  "Well, he merely asked me to stay the night, he did not…"

  "I knew it! Oh, Lord. Shameful behaviour! He is no better than Mr Wickham, Elizabeth. Can you not just see?… just as Mr Wickham did with poor Lydia. Men might promise almost anything in order to get a lady's favours. Even promise to marry you. Then they simply walk away, or go to war for that matter." At this Elizabeth froze.

  "Indeed, he did that."

  "Who? Who did what?"

  "Oh, Jane. Have I been so blind? Is it possible that I have been so naive?"

  "What are you saying, Lizzy. Who did what? Pray, tell me."

  "My betrothed. He was recruited by Wellington after he and I got engaged…"

  "You have been engaged? Why have you not told me about this?"

  "I was as a secret engagement for he was soon sent to the continent to Wellington. Do you remember the ring I used to wear? No, of course you do not. You were so busy, Jane. And at the same time you were always a bit distant. I am sorry I never told you this."

  "When did this happen? To whom were you engaged?"

  "I cannot tell you to whom I was engaged, Jane. But it was while I stayed in London with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. As I told you, the engagement was broken, though, when he was sent to fight on the peninsula."

  "Oh, I am terribly sorry, Elizabeth. Did he die?"

  "He did not."

  "But why did you not marry him when he came back?"

  "I was already in love with Mr Darcy by then. That is why."

  "But you say he compromised you before he went away?"

  "He did not behave any different from Mr Darcy. But dear Jane, neither he nor Mr Darcy did assault me."

  "Lizzy. You have been abused by two men. We should talk to Papa."

  "Abused? No, Jane! Promise you will not tell Papa! Mr Darcy begged me to let him hold me and kiss me because he loves me! Oh, sister. If only you knew of his love for me. He has loved me for so long now. I have been so blind! I could not resist when he held me in his arms, Jane. I love him so much. I forgot everything when his lips touched mine."

  "Oh dear! This is a wretched business. This is exactly how men lure young women into their beds. Mr Darcy is taking advantage of you! He is no gentleman! How can I persuade you otherwise? I know Mr Darcy is a magnificently handsome man, devilishly rich I must add, much more so since he inherited his wife's estate and fortune. And so perfectly amiable he turned out to be. So full of tender emotions and romantic endeavours!! But Lizzy…" she paused to gasp for air. Looking straight into her sister's worried eyes, Jane continued. "But Lizzy… How can you be sure Mr Darcy intends to marry you?"

  "I do not comprehend your meaning."

  "Dearest Lizzy. I think you perfectly comprehend my meaning. Mr Darcy is a man after all."

  "Jane, you sound like Mary, for God's sake! Jane, 'tis Mr Darcy we are talking of. Mr Darcy was the one who helped our family with Lydia's affair, remember? 'Twas his own sense of honour which impelled him to help us. There is something more I cannot disclose to you. If you knew of this you would not think so ill of him, no matter how compromising my situation might seem."

  Jane's face began to relax. Elizabeth was right. Mr Darcy had been a generous friend to all her family. How could she have doubted him so badly? And yet, his behaviour towards Elizabeth was far from gentlemanly. "I supposed you have a point there. Still, much as he had exercised self control on previous occasions, passion can bend the hardest of metals. A man of Mr Darcy's characteristics is not to be left without a chaperone. You have everything to lose, Lizzy. You are a woman. You have already experienced a man's ardent emotions and have mercifully escaped the consequences. Do not take things any further. You must understand a man's endurance has its limits. Promise me you will refrain from seeing him alone, Lizzy. Promise me. This is not a game. Do not
count on Mr Darcy's gentleman manners for ever."

  Elizabeth lowered her eyes. She dared not face her sister.

  "What is it? This is not it, is it? He has already compromised you further?

  "Oh yes!" She nodded emphatically.

  "Oh, Lizzy. This is terrible! How could he do this to you? Awful, awful man!!"

  Elizabeth knew not how to deal with Jane's distress. Notwithstanding his ungentlemanly behaviour, Mr Darcy had definitely not displayed his "worst" manners. Indeed, their behaviour in the Orangery had been a child's game compared to their meeting in London. Still, in Elizabeth's estimation he had been anything but awful.

  "Nay, Jane. Mr Darcy is not an awful man. He loves me, Jane, and he will marry me. You can be sure of that. He is merely overwhelmed with his own emotions and finds it difficult to control himself. But he is good to me, so tender and so passionate at the same time."

  "Is it conceivable that you should be more specific?" her sister asked impatiently.

  "Jane! What is it that you want me to tell you?"

  "Why, everything. I must know!" Elizabeth was astonished at her sister's forwardness. Had she ever imagined Jane would react as she did, Elizabeth would have confided in her long ago. Yet, Elizabeth found it very difficult to speak of such intimate matters with anyone, even sweet Jane.

  "Well then. If you insist." Jane contained her breath a little. Then Elizabeth sighed heavily and sat down in expectation. "Oh Jane. 'Tis so embarrassing." Elizabeth fidgeted nervously and with a flushed countenance she began: "I was in my bedchamber…"

  Jane froze. She shook her head lightly as if endeavouring to recover from a blow on her face. "Gracious Lord!" was all she managed to say.

  "Oh, Jane. Pray do not think ill of me… I… I… I am afraid I cannot go on, dear Jane."

  "Oh, but you must."

  Elizabeth hesitated for awhile before she gathered strength to go on as best as she could. "I cannot tell you the particulars, Jane. One thing led to the other and I ended up in his arms. Mr Darcy, I have discovered, is a man of fierce determination. He may not say much, but did hold me tight and kissed me. Oh Jane. When he kissed me I … I felt tickles all over my body and… I do not know how to say it. But it was so delightful!" Jane stared at Elizabeth in veritable trance. She did not know of what her sister was speaking, for her husband barely touched her, but, anyway, Elizabeth's account of her amorous dealings was beginning to do things to Jane's inner… soul. Elizabeth continued her account of the events with renewed vehemence. "Mr Darcy simply worshipped me, Jane. I was lost in his embrace. He did things to me, things I cannot express with words."

  Jane's eyes widened even more, and she gawked at her sister open mouthed. Her pulse began a mad race and she closed her eyes only to visualise Mr Darcy in such exertions. Something in her inner self began to melt and she felt as if she were made of jelly. Unable to control her pent up emotions, Jane dropped a sigh and laid back with her hands on her shoulders.

  "Indeed, dear Lizzy. How I wish Charles kissed me and held me so!"

  "He does not?"

  Jane shook her head and immediately regretted her disclosure. There would soon come a time in which she would be able to confide her predicament to her sister. For now, she should be content that Elizabeth could confide in her. She rose again and endeavoured to extract more information. This was beginning to get interesting.

  "Well, then?"

  "Oh, Jane, I simply melted in his arms, so fierce was his grip. I could have died there, in the warmth of his embrace. So very passionate, Jane. He more than once almost… Well, he and I… Oh I do not know how to say this Jane. You must know Mr Darcy has never imposed himself on me. He has taken some liberties, but never without my consent."

  "Lizzy!"

  "Nothing happened, Jane, that I could completely regret. Yet, I acknowledge many a time our behaviour was beyond decorum. He kissed me and held me and touched me in such a manner that I thought I could die. My whole body trembled so. My heart… Jane, my heart seemed about to explode. His lips were everywhere over me, and his voice in my ear, saying sweet endearments."

  Jane began to fan herself with the hem of her night gown. "Has he done this to you… more than once?" she asked breathlessly.

  "No. Only once. It was in London when he entered my bedchamber," she whispered. She paused for a moment and added. "And my bed, too."

  "Oh Lord. This is completely unexpected. Mr Darcy! The very proper Mr Darcy! This is too much. Are you not making this up? Oh Lord! How very daring!"

  "But he did not enter my bedchamber with a seduction in mind."

  "He got into your bed?"

  Elizabeth stared at her.

  "You said it yourself! He got into your bed, yet he did not seduce you? Tell me how he endeavoured to do so."

  "I did not say he did not seduce me!"

  "He did! Oh my God! Elizabeth Anne Bennet. This is unbelievable! Lizzy! Have you seen him… naked?"

  "No! No!" Then she thought about it a bit before she added, "No, not seen him exactly." She winced at this disclosure. "I should say I have felt his nakedness better than seen any of it. Jane. Listen to me. Mr Darcy and I… we did not… he…"

  "He did not deflower you."

  Elizabeth blushed profusely. She could hardly believe Jane was using such language in such an easy manner. She shook her head in denial.

  "And yet, he made love to you."

  Lizzy nodded. She was ready for Jane's wrath. Instead, Jane smiled.

  "Amazing!" she whispered. "Simply amazing."

  Then she did the unthinkable. Jane jumped up and, standing on the mattress, she crossed her arms on her chest looking heavenwards. "'Tis wonderful Lizzy! Such a man. So very delightful! You know not how very lucky you are, dearest, to have so generous a gentleman who is ready to please you in detriment of his own pleasure." She giggled excitedly.

  "You do not think ill of me?" Lizzy asked in confusion. "Jane, you mean to tell me you are not unhappy with my behaviour?"

  "Think ill of you? How could I? I dare say I am almost envious of you."

  "Pray tell me. Since when you have become so bold and so understanding?"

  "Do not misunderstand me. I confess you have not behaved well. But since the outcome is so good, I can hardly be angry with you! Mr Darcy is a treasure of a man! Obviously he is a true gentleman! He could have harmed you, dearest, but he chose not to. He must love you very much! You are so lucky! And he is so very… Well, Mr Darcy is the handsomest man of our acquaintance. He has proved to be a passionate lover, and a generous one. You are the luckiest of women, dear Lizzy."

  "I am. You see, you must not worry, Jane. He loves me dearly and I him. He will very soon propose, you'll see. He has already done it twice! We shall be perfectly happy."

  "So you shall, dearest. But you must promise me. No more visits to his bedchamber until the wedding night." She looked at her half smiling half seriously. "I am off to my own bedchamber now. Good night, dearest."

  "Good night."

  Once on her own, Elizabeth's mind began to roam from one thought to the other. What to do? She sat on her bed and hugging her knees, rested her head upon them. After pondering the precarious situation, she decided she should speak to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  But when? She knew Bingley wanted to leave first thing after breakfast. She wished she had let Richard understand their engagement was broken directly upon their first meeting. But she had been so happy to see him after she had thought he was dead! Truth be told, happy and comfortable as she had felt in Mr Darcy's arms, Colonel Fitzwilliam's were as strong and warm. His deep blue eyes bestowed both peace and passion. And he was so amiable! Memories of their time in Longbourn transcended her mind and overflowed her heart. Richard had been both a passionate lover and an exceedingly funny one. Recollection of their encounters behind the trees, and deep in the woods made her giggle.

  What am I thinking?

  Just when she was beginning to despair, she noticed the letter on her bed. She climbed
atop the mattress, and, grabbing the note in her hands, opened it quickly. On reading its contents and the name signed at the end of it, she concluded that the addresser was Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  I cannot go. If I went I would be encouraging him more. I shall not. He will have to understand I am not interested in his addresses.

  Elizabeth's heart sank. She was too wretched to face Richard, yet face him she must. The meeting in itself had no terrors for her; she dreaded the pain she would inflict on the Colonel when refusing his suit. Anxious as were all her conjectures on this point, it was not, however, the one on which she thought most. There was a thought yet nearer, a more prevailing, more impetuous concern: how Richard would think, and feel, and look, when he learned of his cousin's suit. That was a question of force and interest to rise over any other, to be never-ceasing, alternatively irritating and dreadful.

  What would he say to Mr Darcy? What might he not say about her? In this unceasing recurrence of doubts and inquiries her mind was incapable of any repose. Time passed away, and she did not know what to do. Leaning back in one corner of the bed, in a violent burst of tears, her grief and agitation excessive, she let out her own sorrow for a good hour before she raised her head again.

  ~•~

  A letter! Yes! Why did I not think of it before? I shall write a letter and put it under his door while he's outside waiting for me. She could use the door the servants use and reach his dressing room unseen. Then she would slip the letter in one of the pockets of his coat.