Love Calls Again

by Lucianne Elsworth

  "Elizabeth! What is the matter? Is this Darcy's? What does my brother say?" Georgiana inquired, alarmed.

  Elizabeth wiped her tears and endeavoured to answer. Of late she had become exceedingly emotional, and found it impossible to regain composure. Unable to speak, she put Darcy's letter in the girl's hands, and then, covering her face with a handkerchief, tried to muffle her own sobbing. Georgiana was seriously concerned and taking her sister's hand, she pressed it, and kissed it affectionately while the latter gave way to a burst of tears. Soon, Georgiana followed in joint affliction, for she too, suspected that there was something amiss in Darcy's behaviour.

  The letter:

  Mrs Darcy,

  I regret to inform you that the business that keeps me at present in London will necessarily require my presence for a longer period of time. I hope to be safely back at Pemberley ere Christmas. Should you be in need of anything, please do not hesitate to send an express at once.

  Yours

  FD

  With what indignation, such a letter must be read by Georgiana, may be imagined. Before she began to read, Georgiana was thoroughly aware that it must bring no good news but announcement of a longer separation. Yet on reading it, she could not conceive that such scarcity of verbosity could be used to announce it! Nor could she have supposed her brother capable of departing so far from every loving and delicate feeling so far from the common usage of a loving husband, as to send a letter so impudently devoid of affection to his beloved wife.

  She paused over it for some time with indignant astonishment; then read it again, and again; but every perusal served to increase her abhorrence of the manner of Darcy's address. So bitter did her feelings grow against her brother that Georgiana dared not trust herself to speak, lest she might wound Elizabeth still deeper. So earnest she was in her meditation on the content of the letter and on the distress of her sister in law, that she entirely forgot how long she had been in silence with Elizabeth by her side. On hearing a horse ride up to the door, she went to the window to see who could be coming and was all astonishment to perceive that Mr Wickham had arrived.

  Forty-Nine

  —

  In Which a Colonel Sees His True Love Again and an Officer Gets Engaged

  "Mrs Darcy is indisposed and has retired to her room. I am afraid my brother is not at home, Wickham," said a much flushed Georgiana as she led Wickham upstairs into the drawing room. Nobody else was there.

  Wickham seemed startled by the news. "Not at home? Where is he gone?" he inquired, rather mystified.

  "London. He is not expected presently."

  Wickham knew Darcy had been in London, but he was expecting him back at Pemberley by now. He shrugged. It was none of his business.

  "Well, I am not sorry to see you alone," he replied, "for I have a good deal to say to you. Are you sure Darcy is not coming home today?"

  "I am."

  "This is indeed strange. You see, I was supposed to talk to him about a pressing matter. He told me he would be here."

  "My brother?"

  "Yes," he added with a bright smile while he stretched his arm to hold her hand. "I have good, excellent news, Miss Darcy."

  Georgiana, who had not received good news in a long time, raised her brow inquiringly, "What good news?"

  Wickham bit his lip. Looking around, he came close to her and kissed her on her cheek. "Oh, news of the most beautiful nature."

  With a demure gesture she let go of his hand. "Wickham. Someone might see."

  "We are alone."

  Georgiana nodded but nonetheless furthered the space between them. "Pray, tell me your news. I am dying with suspense."

  Wickham had all the air of being on the verge of leaking out some well kept, mysterious secret. He laughed half in delight and half in nervousness. "Lydia has been found," he declared, dropping his voice.

  Georgiana looked at him in frank incomprehension, but remained incapable of response.

  "She is in Italy."

  "Oh." If that was his beautiful good news then she was doomed. Why was he so happy about it? Had Lydia come back to him? Was that what made him smile so much? She was as puzzled as puzzled could be.

  "What do you mean 'oh'? 'Tis great news for us."

  "For us?"

  "Indeed. Lydia has signed the papers."

  "Papers? Of what are you talking?"

  "The divorce papers, of course. You must know since my wife abandoned me the divorce was merely a matter of time. It was granted from the very moment she stepped out of the house, but still she was nowhere to be found. I was beginning to lose hope. But Mr Bennet and your brother have been very helpful. When Mr Bennet received a letter from Lydia, he immediately put me wise. Your brother again generously offered his solicitor's services. His man contacted Lydia in Italy and everything is settled."

  "Settled?"

  "I am free to marry you, now" he said with great emotion.

  "My brother has agreed to do all this? This is very astonishing! I cannot believe it!"

  "It is perfectly true! Darcy did help me with the divorce. Not with my wedding plans, mind you. That will take a great deal of persuasion, of course."

  "Still, it is truly astonishing!" she kept saying, scarcely recovering her wits. Wickham was growing a little restless. Mayhap she was not rising to the occasion with her reaction. Still shocked by the news, Georgiana asked rather harshly, "Why have you come?"

  "Miss Darcy," he announced gravely. "I have come to ask your brother's permission to court you. But since he is not here for the occasion, your decision will do," he said sweetly.

  "My brother granted you his permission to court me? I dare say, this is unseemly," she argued in disbelief.

  "Did I say he did as much? Indeed I did not. I said I came here today to ask your brother to grant me his permission to court you. That is, if you still wish for my courtship."

  Georgiana, eyes down, affected by an unfamiliar state of weightlessness, shook her head with great reluctance.

  "I… we cannot do this now," she said almost breathlessly.

  Wickham, peered into the averted eyes. "You do not love me?" he asked.

  She did. Her watery eyes darted at his face, and for the first time in their meeting he noticed she had been crying. He instantly knew the message. Something was wrong, and it had nothing to do with them.

  "What is it, dear Georgiana? You must tell me. Can I be of help?"

  "Only if you can make my brother come back home."

  "Upon my word! Is this some kind of disease?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Ultimately, every married couple of my acquaintance is getting a divorce!"

  "My brother is not getting a divorce!" she replied indignantly.

  "Then what could be his motive in staying away from his newly acquired bride for so long?"

  "I hardly know! This is truly astonishing. I know not what to do."

  "Well. If you want to know my opinion, he is a fool to stay away from El… from Mrs Darcy," he declared, exceedingly flushed.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean they are newly-weds. A man should… a husband must celebrate his bride's union a whole year before he… Hmm… resorts to…"

  "No, no, no." Georgiana quickly interjected. "Brother is staying away because he is upset."

  "Upset?"

  "Pray, you will not mention the matter to anyone."

  "Of course I will not."

  "Something happened. I know something happened. But this is not news. It is an old story, and I fear it has something to do with my cousin."

  "Mrs Anne Darcy?"

  She shook her head. "Oh, I shouldn't have mentioned anything about this."

  "You do not need to tell me." he said a little hurt.

  "It is so very vexing! I am not sure how can it be solved."

  "I am afraid I cannot help you if you do not confide in me."

  "How can you be of help?"

  "One never knows."

  In the end Geor
giana, though still doubtful whether Wickham could be of any help in the affair, blurted out the name of the other person she thought might have been involved in the difficulties between Darcy and his wife. "I am not absolute certain. But I fear the whole problem has something to do with a relationship that Elizabeth had with…"

  "With…?"

  "My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. It was long ago, mind you."

  "Colonel Fitzwilliam, huh?" he said smugly. Gad, how much he relished seeing he was not the only one with a wild past! "Well I'll be blown if the man has not a finger in every pie!"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  ~•~

  When Charles Bingley took his family away from Pemberley, he did not return with them to Netherfield Park. He went directly to London and he immediately started divorce negotiations. Scarcely a week later, a solicitor representing Mr Bingley called on Mrs Bingley, sporting the divorce papers for her to sign.

  Jane had been thoroughly humiliated. She was too pained to ask counsel from her father. Undoubtedly he would be apprised of the sad news anyway. But Jane could not face him just then. With great pangs of guilt, she signed the papers and sank into a state of sombre sadness from which she seldom resurrected but to nourish the children and attend to some of their needs.

  Jane's acute symptoms of sickness began with the first cold breeze from the oncoming winter. Mrs Bennet was called in haste by a servant after he discovered the mistress lying unconscious on the floor of the nursery.

  Jane did come around soon enough, but nonetheless failed to recover completely. A terrible sense of guilt had invaded her, knowing too well that she had not been treating her husband as he would have deserved. Grieved and shocked to be the cause of concern of her family, Jane promptly succumbed to her malady. Her crying and wretchedness were incessant and with difficulty she uttered the minimal words to her mother.

  The apothecary was called, a prescription issued and everything seemed to return to its regular course until Jane's falling and fainting become a daily occurrence. Soon, she rejected all forms of nourishment and in a matter of days her delicate state was evident to all.

  This situation persisted for at least a week, Jane in a silent agony, too much oppressed even for tears, all day long locked in her chamber. Her mother began to fear for her sanity and called the apothecary again, who readily prescribed some herbs for her nerves and resting for her pregnancy.

  Mr Bennet, too conscientious to risk his daughter's health, sent a letter to his brother Gardiner in the hope that he could send a proper doctor from London, and to Elizabeth, Catherine and Mary to apprise them of their sister's malady.

  Meantime, Jane grew more feverish. A very restless night followed. The apothecary came and pronounced her disorder to have a putrid tendency, allowing the word infection to pass his lips, which gave instant alarm to Mrs Bennet on the children's account. Mr and Mrs Bennet looked very grave at the apothecary's report. In confirmation of Mrs Bennet's fears, the good man urged the necessity of the immediate removal of the infants.

  So the children left Netherfield Park for Longbourn. Poor Jane, languid and low from the nature of her malady, felt herself universally ill. The little that she said was all in lamentation for the problems and anxiety she was causing to her family, though Mrs Bennet, concealing her gravity from her daughter, tried to raise her spirits, and make her believe, as she then really believed herself, that her indisposition would be of a very short duration.

  The days that followed produced no alteration in the state of the patient; she was certainly not better but did not appear worse. The party had been happily augmented by the appearance of both Elizabeth and Georgiana, who had made the three-day journey escorted by a very obliging Mr Wickham. This latter would not hear of leaving his sister, as he had grown to call Elizabeth, to do the journey on her own; hence Mrs Bennet found great comfort in having an extra pair of hands to assist her in attending the children.

  Two days passed away, and Jane's situation continued, with little variation, the same. The apothecary, who attended her every day, still talked boldly of a speedy recovery with Elizabeth, but the expectation of Mr Bennet, who had seen his father die in much a similar manner, was by no means so cheerful.

  It was on the third day when a most unexpected person arrived at Netherfield Park. Colonel Fitzwilliam, in complete ignorance of the situation, on receiving a letter from Jane apprising him of her pregnancy and Bingley's sudden decision to divorce her, had made up his mind to call on her. On learning of the delicate state of her health, Fitzwilliam immediately inquired after the cause of her ailment. When he was apprised of the name of her malady, he became visibly ill and struggled to keep countenance to the situation. Unfortunately, Mr Bennet, unaware of the strong feelings that the Colonel harboured for Jane, vented his fears that Jane might never recover. The poor Colonel was rendered helplessly struck by a horrid pang in his heart, and though he was chiefly used to bearing bad news, was not in a state of mind to resist this influence.

  He became a sombre shadow, pacing the saloon hither and thither, unable to attempt to visit the lady and equally incapable of consoling her father, which left him entirely alone to his fears that he would see Jane no more.

  Towards that evening, Jane became increasingly ill again, growing heavier, more restless, and uncomfortable than before. She suffered from horrid hallucinations that put Elizabeth's hairs on edge. While attempting to soothe her, Elizabeth eagerly felt her pulse. It was lower and quicker than ever; and Jane talked wildly of Bingley and Fitzwilliam, this latter being recurrently on her lips to Elizabeth's puzzlement, thus this latter's alarm increased so rapidly as to consult her father instantly. She rang for a servant to take her place and rushed into the corridor.

  On quitting her sister's room, however, she was confronted with a puzzling picture. Indeed, great was her astonishment when she found not her father but Colonel Fitzwilliam outside, leaning in the darkness against the wall of the corridor. She jumped in surprise.

  "Richard!" she muttered as she froze.

  "What! What is it?" he demanded stepping forward. "Is your sister well?"

  Elizabeth beheld him in vivid bewilderment. She answered him mechanically, though. "She is not doing as well as I would like," said she, a bit puzzled.

  "What can I do?"

  "There is nothing you can do, Richard."

  "Give me an occupation, Mrs Darcy, or I shall run mad. I feel dangerously helpless."

  "Richard! What is the meaning of all this? What are you doing here?"

  He looked up at her without raising his head and catching her eye, sent her a meaningful look that needed no words. Amazed, Elizabeth's mind instantly recollected Jane calling out for him. She, round-eyed in horrid comprehension, stared at him unable to utter a word, until he became so uneasy that Elizabeth was compelled to say something.

  "You could go for a real doctor in London. My father had sent for one but to no avail. She has been merely seen by the apothecary here."

  The Colonel almost jumped at the suggestion. "Of course. London is but eight hours away. If I make no stop, you may see us early tomorrow morning." He took Elizabeth's hand to kiss it. "In your hands I know she will be safe."

  Just as the grieved Colonel was bestowing a feeling kiss on the back of her hand, the tall figure of Darcy appeared out of the blue from the depth of the gloomy corridor, to witness the scene.

  Fifty

  —

  Mother to Be

  Richard Fitzwilliam froze at the sight of Darcy. He knew exactly what his jealous cousin was thinking, yet he had not the time to argue with him. Cutting a quick bow to Elizabeth, he acknowledged his cousin's presence with a defiant look into his scowling eyes. Then, completely unconcerned by Darcy's stern stare, he made his hasty departure leaving the task of confronting him to Elizabeth. He had had enough of Darcy's stupid jealousy. With Jane in such urgent need of medical care, it was no time for hesitation.

  Darcy watched Richard go with a disconcerted look upo
n his face. He leaves just like this? Is not there any explanation to be offered? Of course not. What was there to explain? He cursed his cousin inwardly.

  But then, his wife took him by surprise. Elizabeth, pretty much touched to see her husband after such a long separation, hastened through the corridor to embrace him. Yet, Darcy received her with cold civility.

  "How does your sister?" he asked her while he disentangled himself from her arms that encircled his waist.

  "Jane is truly very ill," Elizabeth answered terribly saddened.

  Howbeit the detachment of her husband had surprised her, she endeavoured to tell him about Jane's feverish hallucination, and about her own fears for Jane. Those, Darcy had no courage to attempt to remove – he listened to them in silent despondence, but when she referred to him of Colonel's Fitzwilliam's strange behaviour, he made no resistance to show his bitterness."

  "That he should wish to be by his beloved in her distress is no surprise."

  "Darcy! Did you know of it? Why did you never put me wise? This is exceedingly puzzling!"

  "Should I acknowledge you of my intelligence in the affair?"

  "Why! Of course you should have. I might have prevented it. This is exceedingly vexing!"

  "Vexing? Surely you must have gone mad, woman. How dare you speak like that! I hardly know you!"

  "Darcy! How can I not be affected? Fitzwilliam is terribly distressed, too. You should have seen his face."

  "This is not to be borne, Elizabeth. Only an idiotic cuckoo would stand such a situation. From this moment on I forbid you to keep Fitzwilliam's acquaintance. You will relinquish all interest that you might still keep for him. Do you understand?"

  "How could I refrain from being interested? Fitzwilliam is our friend and relative, too. Really Darcy, I do not understand you. Sometimes I believe I hardly know you. Why! You disappear for no reason at all, leaving no explanation, then Charles abandons my sister and then Richard comes and…"