Love Calls Again

by Lucianne Elsworth

  "What reasons?" he snapped incredulously.

  "I can think of one or two presently. Maybe Bingley requested him to come. Maybe he needs to talk to you about his present situation with my sister. He must have some plausible excuse. Perhaps he is seeking your help."

  Darcy lost all composure. Help him, indeed! "Why should I help him? I see no reason for his sudden return to my affections! And I would be damned; you must pardon my words, if I first give any sort of service to that scoundrel! What kind of idiotic fool would seek counsel in his worst foe?"

  "Mr Darcy," attempted his wife. Not for one moment did she lose her wits. "I dare say it is never too late to come to terms with one's foes." Seeing he relented a bit in his anger, she dared to plead. "Darcy, he is my brother. You said so yourself. I know he was no good in his past dealings with you. He did a great harm to me as well. But we must leave the past behind. After all he is family. At least you could hear what he has to say. Maybe he is doing some service for us!"

  "He would be of service once I have seen his back on a horse." But he said these words with much less scorn than before.

  "Why do you not go ahead and talk to him? I would follow you behind with Jane."

  With great unwillingness, Mr Darcy strode forward. However, like the good husband he had evidently turned into, he did just as his little wife suggested.

  By the time the ladies caught up with him, Darcy had been conferring with Mr Wickham for a good ten minutes, the particulars of their tête-à-tête remaining between them.

  The Bingley's reunion was anything but warm. Jane cut a short curtsy and Bingley planted a cool kiss on her cheek. Salutations finished, she retired to her apartments, and Mr Bingley followed Miss Darcy to the main parlour.

  Needless to say the delight on Miss Darcy's face to see Mr Wickham was unmistakable. The mere sight of the officer's countenance, at least for a short moment upon giving reception to Mr Bingley was the cause of such palpitations in her heart as to render her aflutter for the rest of the evening. Mr Wickham, however, did not alight till after he had conferred with Mr Darcy for another half hour in the carriage.

  To Georgiana's chagrin, Mr Wickham departed soon after his conference with her brother had finished. Albeit briefly, the gentleman did come out of the carriage to greet Mrs Darcy. He was offered some refreshments but refused them, on account of he would be soon lodged at the Inn in Lambton, and would have tea there. Miss Darcy's good humour, however, survived his loss quite cheerfully, for the notion that Wickham was in the surroundings was preferable to the complete ignorance of his whereabouts.

  The arrival of a second carriage only added to Miss Darcy's diversion. For Kitty and her husband along with her brother-in-law and Mr Bennet alighted from it. The unexpected appearance of her good friend fulfilled Miss Darcy's daily supply of pleasurable surprises, but at the same time unnerved the Master of Pemberley to insurmountable proportions. So Miss Darcy remained the merriest of the party. Never in her life she had been in such large party of young ladies, and to her delight, they were all married. That afforded her a great opportunity to see the couples interacting, and from time to time to catch some private conversation between the ladies that would have been unobtainable otherwise.

  Such an invasion of guests was hardly celebrated by Mr Darcy, who was still honeymooning. So after he had condescended to put them up in the west wing, he had a serious talk with his wife.

  "I am off to Rosings Park, Elizabeth. I shall be back in a week. Please get rid of all these people by then."

  The return to her Christian name was sufficiently good as to allow Mrs Darcy to let go of Mr Darcy without much opposition. Much as they disliked the idea of parting with each other, they both knew it was the best decision. Darcy was not fond of large parties, neither was he particularly fond of Elizabeth's family, least of all with the present state of affairs between the Bingleys. Besides, this afforded Darcy a good opportunity to call on Fitzwilliam while his wife was so well entertained by the herd of relatives. Now Mr Bingley and Mr Bennet would also have occasion to confer privately.

  "It will only be for a se'nnight. I must take my clothes and several other personal items that still remain at Rosings," Darcy whispered into his wife's ear reassuringly. He continued speaking in the lowest of tones to avoid being heard by their guests, presently distracted with Georgiana's playing a most beautiful song on the piano forte.

  "Fitzwilliam needs some help with the steward I am sure, and Mr Collins is too much to be endured on his own. I promise I will be back soon as may be."

  "I wish I could go too. If only I could leave them all behind in the capable hands of your sister!"

  " 'Tis too long a journey for such a short visit. You would be exhausted, my dear."

  " I would rather endure a carriage for another thousand miles if only I would be with you."

  "Oh I see, Mrs Darcy. You will be following me around every time I go away."

  "Will you be leaving home ever so often?"

  "Many times I shall have to."

  "Then I shall follow you, sir, make no mistake of that. I shall emulate Eleanor's constancy to Longshanks and be after my Master should he need me at any time."

  "And save me from loneliness and sorrow?"

  "Indeed I shall. I shall never part with you regardless of the distance or the enterprise that takes you to travel. Were you to go in quest of the Holy Grail, I should be at your heels."

  "You shall have to learn how to ride, my love. Queen Eleanor used to ride with the King even in her pregnancy."

  "Is that so? In that case I shall stay here. I am afraid I would rather miss you than ride while carrying your child," she hinted, though he was not paying attention to her words, for he was by now getting increasingly distracted with her figure, the idea he would not have her in his bed for quite a long time only dawning on him.

  He must remedy that directly.

  "Shall we retire now, Mrs Darcy?"

  Elizabeth blushed furiously. He had never been so forward in front of her family. Afraid her sisters or any of the gentlemen would notice her husband's musing or her embarrassment, she excused herself and went upstairs without much explanation, followed by her excited husband, who attributed their leaving to his upcoming departure to Kent. Their guests watched them ascend the stair with knowing eyes, although the fact that Darcy had to ready his things to make his short call on Colonel Fitzwilliam readily excused them in the eyes of Miss Darcy. Once in the privacy of their apartment, Darcy rushed to her and began to disrobe her ravenously, while she did the same with his clothes, in her rush helplessly entangling his cravat to the point of almost strangling him.

  "Allow me," he said in haste, growing visibly impatient.

  Hardly had he finished with his clothes when, throwing himself on the bed, he commanded her to come to him. It was a long time since she had abandoned her customary disrobing behind the screen. Still wearing her petticoat, she readily obeyed, and he finished the enticing job of discarding the last layers of her cover with hungry hands.

  Darcy applied wet kisses on the sensitive skin of her neck until, in a rather contorted posture, he reached her breasts, which he proceeded to devour with excessive pleasure. He was thus employed when he noticed a striking difference in the latter.

  "Lizzy, these are growing bigger." Looking at her breasts as if for the first time, Darcy adopted an inquiring look. Reluctantly, she raised her head with an awkward expression in her face, wondering what "these" might be.

  Seeing he was referring to her breasts, she sighed in acquiescence. "Indeed they are. Ultimately, I find it difficult to fit in my clothes."

  "You do not suppose…" he dreaded to finish the phrase lest he was being too hasty, or too obvious in his wish to become a father, soon.

  "Maybe," she smiled sweetly.

  "Lizzy!"

  "Maybe not!" she hastily said. "I am afraid 'tis too soon to tell. I may be merely growing fatter. Mrs Reynolds certainly overfeeds me."

  "But sure
ly there must be other signs…"

  "Darcy, it is too soon. I sincerely wish I were with child. But I do not wish to disappoint you."

  "Disappoint me? By Jove! You would never do such thing." He sat up in bed and contemplated her, a frown creasing his forehead. "When will we know for sure?"

  "I hardly know. These things take time." Darcy looked at her with incredulity. He needed to know. It was beyond his nature to be subjected to others' whimsicalities and his own progeny was no exception. Yet this was one of those rare occasions in which none of the members of his staff could help him out of his present predicament. The baby, if there was one, would not show itself until it began to quicken. Noticing his uneasiness, she offered: "In a few months I shall be able to tell, I suppose. I was thinking of having a talk with my sister Jane, to be certain."

  "Months? Is this some kind of hoax? Gracious Lord, Lizzy. How long have you known this?" he protested as he rose from between her legs.

  She saw him sitting up with longing in her eyes. Noticing that he had abandoned his previous exertion, she made up her mind to talk about the subject that was of his interest at present.

  "To tell you the truth, I hardly know. I have not noticed anything unusual, apart from the tightening of my décolletage. However, Jane used to complain of disorders in her appetite in her pregnancies. I have nothing of the kind. But then of course, one cannot be entirely sure until it is evident to the eye."

  "When will that be?"

  "As I have told you. Two months will suffice, may be three."

  "Oh Lord! So long! I will die of suspense before that. Can we not know in any other way?" He had rolled over her again and with tender hands he began to caress her flat navel. "Is it possible that the next generation could be hidden inside of you?" he wondered aloud. "But you are feeling well, are you not?"

  "I was a few minutes ago," she sighed.

  He grinned mischievously. "You must excuse me, madam. I was shamelessly distracted by the possibility of becoming a father."

  "Well, Mr Darcy. Since that is yet a mere possibility, you had better make sure that it becomes a certainty."

  "Hmm. Now that you mention it, it would not be very wise to leave matters such as these at the whims of fate, would it? Now, where were we, Mrs Darcy?"

  "You were saying good-bye, sir."

  "Ah, yes. Let me bid you a proper farewell"

  Forty-Seven

  —

  The Postman Always Calls Twice

  On his arrival at Kent, Darcy was exceedingly distracted, and his distraction was a source of wonder for his cousin. In the end the Colonel could contain his curiosity no more and asked Darcy about his uncommon demeanour. Darcy was relieved Fitzwilliam had noticed his preoccupation and immediately proceeded to blurt out both the bad and the good news. To the good news Fitzwilliam's reaction could not have been more satisfying.

  "Mr Darcy! A father at last! Well done, old man. Though it is a bit soon, I dare say. You have been married… what?… two months? I say, Darcy, you have lost no time!" he teased him. But in fact, Fitzwilliam was genuinely happy for Darcy and that showed in his manner of expressing his congratulations. He rose and hugged Darcy in a brotherly manner.

  "Indeed I have not," said Darcy smugly. Then he blushed deeply, for Darcy did not find the topic a very easy one, not even with Fitzwilliam.

  "When is the infant due? Do you have any idea?"

  "Well. We are not too sure. According to Elizabeth's calculations, in seven months."

  The calculation seemed rather far-fetched to Fitzwilliam. "Seven months?" Well, of course, you dupe. Have you not just remarked that they have been married but two months? "And you are quite certain she is… ahem, expecting already? Please, do not misinterpret me. I am no proficient on the subject. Still… Is it not too soon to declare the pregnancy a fact?" he argued.

  "Well, everything seems to point in that direction." Darcy claimed. "I must confess we are not completely certain, but I have a feeling she is, Fitz. Besides she… er… she has… mm… There is… something about her that tells me she is with child. I cannot refer to you the particulars, but believe me. She has changed."

  Fitzwilliam chuckled, imagining which parts of Elizabeth might have changed. "I see. I perfectly understand your meaning. Well, in that case you did quite well in leaving her behind. Did you say she stayed with Georgiana and her family?"

  "The Bingleys and the Ellisons together with Mr Bennets are visiting. I must confess I did not expect them to call on us so soon," he protested. "But Elizabeth seems quite happy to see her family."

  "And so you decided to come and visit me. I dare say you have not changed, old dog."

  Darcy dropped himself on the couch, and lifting his feet, he rested them on a chair. "You know how much I hate big crowds," he puffed. "Pemberley resembles a big social club at present. Or rather a nursery! Believe me, Bingley's children are everywhere, and nurses and wet nurses and whatnots! I suppose I shall have to get used to throngs like these."

  "I dare say you shall have to, my friend! Did you say the Bingleys are there too? How does Mrs Bingley?"

  "Oh, she is fine I suppose, considering the situation."

  "What situation?"

  "I should not be saying this to you. But then I suppose you can keep a secret."

  "I am a tomb."

  "You had better be. Not even Elizabeth knows."

  "Well then? What is it?"

  "I think the Bingleys are getting a divorce."

  "A divorce?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you certain? This is amazing!"

  "Indeed, it is."

  "And may I be so bold as to inquire what makes you think they are getting a divorce?"

  "Mr Wickham came to Pemberley with Bingley. He told me of Bingley's plans, and then I talked to Bingley myself."

  "Did you say Wickham?"

  "Yes. He and Bingley have been quite close lately. To cut a long story short, Bingley and his wife had some sort of misunderstanding and Bingley abandoned Netherfield Park and took up residence in London. He has been leading a rather licentious life since then. Wickham persuaded him to come to Pemberley, but Bingley seems determined to go back to town. He just wants to settle the papers with Mrs Bingley."

  "My word! And did he tell you the reasons for such a decision?"

  "I know not the particulars but I imagine it is infidelity."

  Fitzwilliam's face went pale.

  "Apparently Bingley met a lady in London. An actress, several years his senior, but nonetheless a beautiful woman, you know the type."

  Goodness! That had been close! Still such a stressful moment left the Colonel a bit shaky. "I certainly do," he snorted

  "Well, Bingley is head over heels in love with her and will not hear reason. He is quite determined to divorce his wife or leave her for that matter."

  "The man finally did it!"

  "Pardon?"

  "I was saying that this is hardly unexpected."

  "Yes, I agree. Taking into account Bingley's disclosure it was a matter of time until something like this happened. I am afraid I know not Bingley anymore. He is not the proper gentleman I used to know. If effectively he finally works out his plans I am afraid I shall have to quit his friendship."

  "What most puzzles me is that you have received Wickham! Have you two made peace at last?"

  "Mr Wickham seems to have changed. He behaved admiringly in this Bingley affair. I am all astonishment. Nothing or no one turned out to be what they have always seemed."

  Fitzwilliam listened to him enthralled. It was very true. "Well." Fitzwilliam finally said in an endeavour to change the subject. "Let us drink to the future generation, shall we?" and poured a glass of brandy for them both. Lifting his glass in his hand, Fitzwilliam made a toast. "Here is to your progeny, my friend. May they be many and male and Darcys." And he sent his cousin a naughty smile.

  The rest of Darcy's stay at Rosings was spent on business talk, meetings with the steward, servants, and lawyers. Wh
en, finally, all that had been seen to, Darcy's manservant approached him in his bedchamber to communicate to him that all his personal belongings had been packed and that instructions were awaited for their deliverance to Pemberley. This done, the manservant handed him a letter.

  "I am sorry, sir. This letter was found in the inner pocket of your mourning coat in your dressing room. It seemed you have not opened it. It must have been my mistake, sir. I did not notice it before, for I left your coat behind in our hasty departure in spring." The manservant said apologetically.

  "It is quite all right. Thank you."

  What must have Darcy's surprise been when he found the letter seemed to come from Elizabeth. On scrutinising the handwriting, he became pretty sure it was from her. But the most unsettling thing about it was not the addresser but the addressee. For when Darcy was just about to break the seal, he happened to notice it was not addressed to him, but to his cousin Fitzwilliam. Exceedingly puzzled, although Darcy was absolutely aware it had not been meant for himself, he pondered whether it was in his right to open and read it. Of course it was! Any affair entailing Elizabeth was his affair too and no other's. He hesitated for a moment, though, for his conscience dictated he should not do such a thing. It had been written at Rosings on the paper his aunt used to keep in the library, and it bore the house seal so Elizabeth must have written it while still unmarried during Anne's funeral. But what for? Why a letter to Fitzwilliam, of all people?

  An infectious idea began to trickle into his mind. A proper lady would have never written a letter to a man unless that man was intimately connected with her.

  What did all that mean? Was it possible that Elizabeth was Fitzwilliam's secret love? But why did she not marry him on the first place?

  Mercenary purposes?

  No, such idea was simple preposterous! That Elizabeth should prefer Fitzwilliam to him was simply unthinkable. Nothing had ever suggested it before… except for those days they had spent in Kent more than five years ago!