Love Calls Again

by Lucianne Elsworth

  Once downstairs, the Colonel found that not one of the other inhabitants had yet breakfasted but for his cousin, whose early rising had been imposed on him by the arrival of the coffin and shroud. Preparation for the burial had started. Mrs Reynolds and Anne's personal maid were already in the mourning chamber, preparing the dead body of the Mistress of Rosings for proper burial.

  Notes had been sent, previous to her demise under the clear evidence of her imminent death, for those who were to act as pall-bearers to carry the coffin from the house to the hearse, and then from the hearse to the grave. Among them stood, of course, Colonel Fitzwilliam, his brother Geoffrey, the future Earl of Matlock, and three other relations of about Anne's age, who were expected to arrive at any minute.

  So, now Richard Fitzwilliam knew he was to assume his role of particular friend of the afflicted husband, hence in charge of all the arrangements that had not already been made for the burial, reception of those who undesirably call and fulfilment of any and every requirement that might arise. When the sad event had become known, friends who called to offer their services had been in abundance. Visits of condolence were to be avoided until after the funeral, so servants had been expressly prevailed upon to dismiss them.

  The rest of the guests had exited the breakfast room, Colonel Fitzwilliam having apprised them of the news, and the ladies proceeded to retreat to the library until the preparations were finished.

  Facing the beautiful countenance of Elizabeth was no little business for Richard. Yet once he had managed to show a much composed behaviour in front of her, the Colonel surmised he had conquered his feelings and endeavoured to keep his composure. Not a gaze did he spare her, not even a single smile. The whole business of the forthcoming funeral had been the thing.

  Truth be told, although Elizabeth seemed quite oblivious to their predicament, she was far from being at ease. Not a blush did she bestow on him upon their meeting in the breakfast room, either. Notwithstanding hymen upholding, pleasure derived from his and Darcy's amorous ministrations had sent her to Heaven and back. Uneasiness overruled her, though. What to say to Richard? After all that had transpired, how to remain aloof in his presence? For the first time in her lifetime, she envied Darcy's oblique nature, finding the oddities of disguising true feelings a daunting exertion.

  So, she chose to pretend she did not recollect their passionate meeting. Hence, she pleasantly talked to him in a most composed manner, showing no affected expressions on her face. This vexed the Colonel rather than appeased him. He had expected a reaction, a blush on her countenance. Visibly discomfited, Richard abandoned her company and endeavoured to keep himself busy with the funeral.

  A few hours later, a chaise and four carrying a herd of Fitzwilliams arrived, causing not a little bustle among the servants, sending them immediately to frantic work. Only a moment afterwards another arrived, from which Lord and Lady Matlock and their niece, Miss Georgiana Darcy, alighted wearing a full black mourning gown with a scandalously low-cut décolletage.

  Richard was not prepared to see his young cousin thus, and great was his surprise when, upon seeing him, the young lady leaped to his arms in a jubilant manner.

  "Richard!" she cried as merry as merry could be. "Oh Richard! It is so good to see you!" and sinking her head into his lapels, she wound her arms around his waist in full view of the family. Then, raising her head, she bestowed a daring kiss on both his cheeks.

  The Colonel hesitated; he knew not what to do. The impropriety of this new predicament alarmed him. Thereupon, he tried to disentangle from her grip and decidedly exclaimed: "Sprout!".

  He claimed her chin in a desperate intent to restrain the exuberance of her greeting. Then he tenderly whispered in her ear.

  "You are no more a girl to kiss me in this manner, Miss Darcy. We are in full view of the family, remember."

  Miss Darcy could not care less; nonetheless she let go of his waist in what could be considered an obedient, yet reluctant gesture.

  "Richard, I have missed you so! Why did you not answer my letters?" she beamed while jumping lightly on her tiptoes.

  "I am sorry, Sprout. We were too busy here. I believe your brother wrote on behalf of us both. And I did send you a letter or two."

  "Richard, I am one and twenty now. No more Sprout. I am a young lady who deserves your respect as such."

  All this was witnessed with no little partiality from the part of the gentleman's parents. Darcy, being used to his sister's tender feelings and shows of affections for both Fitzwilliam and himself, took little notice of the event. That was not the case of the rest of the members of the house of Fitzwilliam, especially Lord and Lady Matlock, whose minds were readily intrigued by the lady's display of emotions for their youngest son. Had it been the case, a wedding between the cousins would be the perfect solution for both their son and their niece. Her rich dowry and his aristocratic connections would make of it the perfect match.

  "Speaking of letters, Richard… "Lady Matlock approached them with a packet of rather old letters which she handed to her son. "These came for you while you were away."

  "Ma'am." he greeted his mother with a bow.

  "Come, come, son. Will you not kiss your own mother?"

  He kissed her on her cheeks and grabbed the letters that were handed to him.

  "Aunt. Richard insists in calling me Sprout. Will you persuade him that I am not longer a girl?" she said while fanning her ample bosom.

  "You must excuse me, Miss Darcy," he replied in a scolding manner." I am afraid your exertions speak louder than your décolletage. I thought such eager displays of affection towards a man were expected from little girls, not young ladies as your exposed bosom claim to belong." Georgiana gasped and stopped fanning herself, Lord Mattlock had to fight not to let out a snort and Lady Mattlock cleared her throat and looked behind.

  Darcy, having finished to greet the first Fitzwilliams to arrive, now approached the small group that belong to his most intimate family and greeted them with great formality.

  "You certainly look well, nephew," said Lord Matlock appreciably. "I must confess you have behaved admiringly towards your unfortunate cousin. Well done, Darcy. I am sure your father would have been as proud of you as we are." Then looking at Fitzwilliam he added. "You, too, son. You are a loyal friend for both your cousins. I am very proud of you."

  The whole group entered the house. Georgiana took opportunity to grab her cousin's arm and forced him to linger a little bit behind.

  "Do take pity on my, Fitz. It is pretty difficult to behave when I am with you. I intend to be a new person. Hard as I try I find it a much difficult endeavour. Will you not help me?"

  The colonel well nigh laughed. This girl made him happy. For a minute he forgot his pains and was enveloped by Georgiana's new playful disposition. Long ago was the shy girl that would hardly utter a word. In front of him was a deliciously beautiful young lady eager to laugh and be merry despite the black clouds that were surrounding them.

  "Very well. But you must promise not to wear such low-cut dresses in front of me any more. You will drive every young man crazy and I am in no age to fight them all." he teased her.

  "Oh Richard! You like not my dresses? I had them fit thinking only in you."

  "I do, I do. As a general thing. It is your exposed bosom I object."

  "You do not think I am beautiful?"

  "You are. Exceedingly beautiful. You do not need to expose your bosom that way, though."

  Signalling Mrs Bingley and Miss Bennet standing in the hall Georgiana pointed out. "Do you object to those ladies's décolletages?"

  Blushing profusely, he said. "Oh, well. That is different."

  "Different? How so?"

  Turning his head towards Mrs Bingley he said playfully, "That décolletage is for my entertainment. Yours is for other men's. Hence I object."

  "I wish you found entertainment in mine, too."

  He looked at her in disbelief. Had she said what he thought he heard? What was the me
aning of such careless words? "Dearest cousin. Please, exert common sense and mind your words. Now go to your brother, will you?" Fitzwilliam chose to get rid of her better than dwell on the meaning of her words. Then he proceeded to greet the other members of the family.

  Georgiana was once again gripped by fierce emotions. Not far from Darcy was the delicate figure of Miss Bennet, so dear to her as her excellent brother. Her heart leaped and it took her a great effort to show composure in order not to run to her encounter.

  "Miss Bennet, what a pleasant surprise!" she said winking at her happily.

  "Miss Darcy, the pleasure is all mine." Answered Elizabeth excessively diverted by the young lady uncommon behaviour. "I must say I am immensely grateful for your note."

  "Oh, you are? I take it then that my efforts have not been fruitless?"

  "Indeed, they have not."

  "Oh, Elizabeth. I am so happy. Pray, tell me How fruitful?"

  "That, your brother will tell you in due time. For now I must keep silence."

  "Very well. I understand."

  They continued in the same tone of conversation, sharing little gossips and apprising each other with news of the past three years of their lives. Such was their concentration on the conversation, that the removal of the coffin went unnoticed to them.

  The gentlemen, accompanied the hearse on a presiding carriage and the ladies awaited their return in the library.

  Lady Matlock was very happy to see Elizabeth again. She was introduced to Mrs Bingley and the four ladies, each of them in their black dresses, kept each other company, while partaking some refreshments.

  When the gentlemen returned, there was a family meeting, from which the Bingleys and Miss Bennet, were, of course, spared. It was decided that Rosings would be closed in two days, and Mr and Miss Darcy would retire to Pemberley for the following six months. This ending, Mr Darcy would travel to London for the winter season, and Georgiana to her ordinary activities, which entailed attending balls and assemblies in town, accompanied by Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  "Bingley," said Darcy after the meeting was finished." I most sincerely thank you for checking your departure for my sake."

  "Not at all, Darcy. It has been my pleasure."

  "I have been thinking. Perchance you and your family could join us at Pemberley for the summer."

  "Why, Jane would simply be delighted!"

  "You must bring your sister in law with you, too."

  "That is most generous of you!" he said with a smirk.

  "Believe me, Bingley. It will be my pleasure."

  "Would you extend your invitation to my sister Caroline?"

  "Do you wish me to do so?"

  "No, not at all. But she has sent you her condolences and is certainly longing to call on you soon as it may. You can imagine why."

  "Then let her not come. You must know I shall not remain a bachelor for long. I intent to be married soon."

  "Miss Elizabeth?"

  "I cannot disclose the identity of my intended yet." Darcy said winking at him.

  Bingley looked puzzled. Had Jane been wrong? "Oh. I am sorry. I thought… I do not understand."

  Darcy eyed his friend suspiciously. Had he been drinking at so early an hour?" "Indeed, Bingley. It is Miss Bennet."

  "Ah, Of course it is. It is pretty obvious to me," he lied, "Does she know of your plans?"

  "She does. But Bingley. Not a word until an announcement is made."

  "You can count on my discretion, my friend. But I rejoice in your felicity. She is a treasure, you know."

  "Indeed, she is," said Darcy with a dreamy look upon his face.

  "Man, I should have wagged my life I would not live to see you like this. You are positively besotted."

  Darcy coughed lightly and endeavoured to regained aloofness. Then he looked at Bingley's smiling face, and thought that it was no need. No with Bingley. Hence he spoke thus, "She is more dear to me than my own life. Only death will do us apart now. So, please, bring her to me soon as you have made all the arrangements."

  "Arrangements?"

  "Pemberley? This summer?"

  "Ah, those. But of course. I will. Make no mistake of it."

  That evening, after the whole party of guests had had dinner and the gentlemen had retired for brandy and cigars, Elizabeth was approached by Jane in a confident tone.

  "The Colonel and Miss Darcy are engaged, are they not?"

  "Not at all. What makes you say so?"

  "Did you not notice the manner of her addresses to him?"

  "She is a bit enamoured of him. But Richard is a brother to her. He is her guardian together with Darcy."

  "Richard? Are you intimate enough to call him by his first name? I have never noticed before."

  Elizabeth did not answer. She was not used to concealment of any nature, and found this rather difficult, so much so when it was Jane from whom she had to conceal the truth.

  "The Colonel is a charming man," said Jane in confidence.

  "Indeed, he is."

  "I wonder why he is not married yet. Do you think he is a flirt?"

  "Absolutely," answered Elizabeth very much diverted.

  "Better and better," said Jane almost to herself.

  "Jane!"

  Jane giggled. "'Tis only a joke. Still, he is very handsome."

  When the gentlemen returned, conversation went around Colonel Fitzwilliam's commission, again. Darcy grabbed the opportunity his guests were so agreeably engaged to talk to Elizabeth. He approached her and whispered something into her ear. He quietly retired to the music room. Elizabeth, followed him a few instants later.

  "I have an objection as regard the venue of our meeting tonight." He said while he stepped slowly towards her.

  "An objection?"

  He looked around and in noticing they were unobserved, he traced a daring path on the rim of her décolletage with his finger.

  "Do you think it would be too presumptuous of me to visit you in your bedchamber later tonight? I wish to make love to you, again. My study is a bit uncomfortable for that exertion"

  Elizabeth looked at him, a deeper glow overspreading her cheeks. She was unaccustomed to this intimate treatment and his forwardness confused her.

  "My bedchamber, sir?"

  "I know I told you I wished to share my bed with you. Would you not share yours with me?"

  She hesitated for a moment during which not a word was said by either.

  "Pray, do not think ill of me. Don't you feel the same? I assure you had we not been in all this company you would hardly leave my bedchamber the whole day through."

  She shook her head demurely, blushing profusely.

  "So, what say you? May I?"

  She nodded in acceptance.

  "Midnight, then." he said in a determined tone, and left her on her own to bite her heels.

  Elizabeth perceived with alarm that after her understanding with Mr Darcy to meet in the shelter of her bedchamber she was not quite herself. She had consented to a scheme that might put her in a well known danger. To fall prey of her own passionate feelings.

  He will come to me but surely he will not talk much.

  The mere notion of the forthcoming visit of her fiancée was doing things to her. She could even feel his hands roaming her body, feeling every inch of her womanly sensibilities, exploring each secret emotion hidden in her skin. Planting wet kisses all over her naked body. There, where only he had already reached. Her bliss was compleat. Sensations she had had only a mere glimpse of were now flowing freely and she finally reached a moment when she had lost all notion. Her own voice she could hear crying his name.

  To say that she was disturbed by the implication of her daydream would be an understatement. She had found it quite pleasurable. So distracted Elizabeth became with her reverie that she found it impossible to follow the thread of conversation of the ladies who had approached her. So, under the facade of a headache, she excused herself and retired to her room. Jane, feeling a little concerned for her siste
r, decided to follow her.

  "I shall remain in your bedchamber tonight." declared Jane.

  "Pray, Jane. You need not bother. 'Tis merely a headache."

  "'Tis no bother."

  "But Jane…"

  "'Tis settled, Lizzy. I shall change and come in a few minutes. Then we can have a talk."

  Gracious Lord! What shall I do?

  A moment later saw Elizabeth sitting on the bed with her sister, who brushed her long chestnut curls whilst conversing nonchalantly about the recent events in the house. They talked about the fashionable ladies from the Fitzwilliam family, about the dazzling smile of the Colonel and little by little Jane wheeled their talking to the topic of her interest.

  "Lizzy? Would you say that Colonel Fitzwillam is as passionate as your Mr Darcy?"

  "I refuse to comment on such subject." Was her decided answer. Jane kicked her lightly and began teasing her like in the old days when they had shared one bed at Longbourn and spent the whole might discussing possible suitors.

  Jane finally became serious. "Well, then?"

  Elizabeth merely nodded quickly while she twisted her lips.

  "I knew it." Jane whispered.

  Elizabeth endeavoured to finish their conversation. She dove into her bed and sank in her pillow. Jane joined her. Such was her contentness that she was happily humming a tune their mother used to sing them when they were small. In this manner, she lulled herself to sleep. On seeing that Jane no longer moved, Elizabeth sighed in relief. She loved her dear sister. So much so, that the very idea of Jane finding out her plans for the night scared her to death. What would dear sweet Jane think of her after her tender counselling! And yet she had never imagined her sister's pleasure at her risky behaviour! Jane, whose nature, most surely, had prevailed her from proper kisses during courtship! The eagerness with which she had received Lizzy's confidence, veritably contradicted her admonitions! Jane, who had never shown the slightest sign of passion during marriage. Dear old sweet Jane, a blazed maiden!