Fragments

by Teg

  A name pushed its way past her lips. “Georgiana?”

  “Yes!” was the relieved reply. “Yes, it’s Georgiana. You had a bad dream,

  Elizabeth, but you’re okay.” Her grip on Elizabeth eased, becoming more of a comforting embrace than a restraint.

  The adrenalin in her body had reached a peak. Elizabeth began to tremble

  violently, clutching at her friend as if she feared her disappearance. Tears quickly followed. They could not be stopped, falling rapidly with the intensity of her sobs.

  Georgiana held her fast, speaking in soothing tones and waiting out the storm.

  It became apparent that Elizabeth had long been denying herself this outlet.

  Rather than abating, her distress grew until Georgiana feared some intervention would be required. Fortunately, that fear was not realised as Elizabeth soon exhausted herself, limply falling back on the bed while occasionally drawing in a shuddering breath.

  “Would you like some water?” Georgiana gently wiped a tissue across

  Elizabeth’s cheeks. Nodding weakly, Elizabeth slowly sipped the cool liquid when the glass was put in her hand while Georgiana allowed a few minutes of calm before speaking again. “Do you want to talk about it?” She observed the other woman’s reaction. There was no refusal, which was enough for

  Georgiana to settle herself more comfortably on the bed. “Bad dreams always seem less frightening when you try to explain them to someone else.”

  Elizabeth stared down into the glass, the water swirling slowly inside. “I’m not sure anymore.”

  “About what?”

  “What’s real and what isn’t.” She shook her head from side to side in

  confusion. “The dreams start out the same but the endings are different. It seems familiar and then it’s not.”

  “The part that’s the same,” prompted Georgiana, “do you think that may have really happened? Perhaps you don’t remember the end and that’s when your

  imagination takes over.”

  Elizabeth fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “I remember,” she said very quietly. “I remember it all.”

  Placing her hand on Elizabeth’s, Georgiana said quite simply, “Tell me.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Elizabeth, you weren’t the first woman taken in by George Wickham. I, too, fell for his flattery and smooth words. I didn’t listen to Will’s warnings. He knew what George was like.” Her voice was soft and sorrowful. “I still feel guilty for the worry and fear I caused my brother.”

  “Georgiana,” Elizabeth said in a horrified whisper. “I had no idea you were a victim, too.”

  “I was lucky, though. George didn’t dare hit or threaten me. He wanted money and that was too much to risk losing. He was also afraid of Will.”

  “Will.” Her tone was wistful. “I can’t tell him.”

  “He would understand.”

  Elizabeth adamantly shook her head. “It would hurt him. I won’t do that.”

  It was not the time to pursue the topic further, Georgiana knew. “Let me get you something to help you sleep.” Before Elizabeth could object she suggested a bit to eat or a glass of wine. “Food in your stomach would be good but,

  personally, I prefer wine because it makes me drowsy.”

  A small smile formed on Elizabeth’s lips. “I think I’d like more of that dessert you made tonight. And some wine.”

  “Done!” laughed Georgiana. While she went to the kitchen Elizabeth sought a robe in Will’s closet. The plates and glasses were on the table when she

  appeared, almost hidden in folds of heavy black material. “Hey, that fits you just perfectly.”

  “Sure, if I don’t mind not having the use of my hands and tripping on the

  bottom of the darn thing.” Elizabeth grinned, eagerly sitting down and rolling the sleeves up to her elbows. “This is delicious, Georgiana.”

  “I don’t think my brother liked it much. Too much chocolate, not that I think there is such a thing.” Watching her companion closely, she added, “But then, he’s rather particular about everything.”

  A pink flush rose in Elizabeth’s cheeks. “I had noticed, actually.”

  “A bit of a perfectionist at times.”

  “Yes.” His words had comforted her almost every night since he had said them. “There is nothing I want more than to make love with you, Elizabeth. To love you completely, perfectly, as you deserve to be loved.” She blushed again.

  “Really, I love him dearly but sometimes his demands for things to be just so drive me nuts!” Georgiana suddenly bit her lip in consternation. “I’m not selling him very well.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Am I expected to buy him?”

  “I was hoping you might consider it.” She looked expectantly at Elizabeth, who could not disguise the flush that crept into her face. “I know what you’ve been through this last year and it’s probably too soon to be thinking about it but Will is one hell of a catch.”

  “I couldn’t.... He deserves better.” Elizabeth cast her eyes down to her plate.

  “And you deserve better than George. I know how Will feels about you and he doesn’t take these things lightly. Too serious by far, in my opinion. I see a hint of lightness in you, Elizabeth; lightness that would do Will some good. It’s buried a bit deep right now but it’s there. Time is a great healer and my brother is no stranger to waiting.”

  She looked up, struck by the last comment. “But for how long?”

  Georgiana squeezed her friend’s fingers. “As long as it takes. Elizabeth, you have fought hard and you’re strong. It’s that strength and your intelligence that Will admires. I know it won’t be long once you’ve found that key, the one that unlocks the final barrier. Believe in yourself and know that Will is going to be there until the end.”

  There seemed little else to be said between them. Elizabeth felt she had to consider all that she knew as well as what Georgiana had revealed before she could make any other decision. Silently, they finished their wine and each went back to bed, although it was some time before either was able to sleep again.

  Will awoke to the smells of coffee and breakfast cooking, the thought of seeing Elizabeth at the table urging him out of bed immediately. He was more than pleased to find both young women in the kitchen chattering and laughing as they watched over the pans of bacon, eggs and....

  “Crepes!” he exclaimed. “I haven’t had those in years, not since Mom used to make them for us on Sundays!”

  “Good morning to you, too,” his sister replied with a lift of one eyebrow.

  “Ah, good morning.” He was more interested in Elizabeth’s activities, however, moving closer to stand behind her and wrap his arms about her waist as she pushed the crackling bacon in the pan. Lowering his mouth to her ear, Will bid her good morning in a low voice, allowing his lips to graze just below her earlobe, then down the length of her neck to the shoulder.

  “Don’t mind me,” chuckled Georgiana. She made a mental note to point out to her brother that Elizabeth wasn’t the only one contributing to his professed torment.

  Will looked over the kitchen. “Is there anything for me to do?”

  “Eat,” Elizabeth blandly remarked.

  “Yes, ma’am!” He quickly sat down at the table.

  Plates of bacon, eggs and crepes were placed in the middle and all three

  enthusiastically started in. No mention was made of Elizabeth’s interrupted sleep. She had spent the rest of the night undisturbed, feeling refreshed in the morning as if nothing untoward had occurred. Her first thought upon

  awakening, after finally recognising whose bed she was in, was to recollect Georgiana’s words; it won’t be long once you’ve found that key, the one that unlocks the final barrier. She did not yet know what either were but felt, perhaps for the first time, a willingness to open up and examine the store of dark memories.

  It was Christmas Eve, however, and Charles had made sure to invite Will and Georg
iana to partake of the festivities with the family. The day was precisely planned; the Bennets would arrive around eleven that morning, a short visit to ensue before the hunt for a tree would commence. When reminded of this

  during breakfast, Elizabeth suddenly realised there was no tree in the Darcy home, either. It was something she insisted must be remedied.

  “There’s still the artificial one in the attic, isn’t there?” Georgiana asked her brother who nodded an affirmative. “We just didn’t bother to put it up the last few years, ever since I went away to medical school and only came back on

  visits. If you bring the boxes down, Will, I’ll assemble it this afternoon and we can all decorate it tonight when we get home.”

  “I’d love that!” Elizabeth enthusiastically nodded, urging Will to put the idea into action. By the time he’d retrieved the dusty boxes, showered and dressed, they had enough time to rush out the door and arrive at the Bingleys as the others were getting restless. As everyone was putting on their coats Will turned to Elizabeth.

  “Would you like me to go with you?”

  Elizabeth had been undecided as to whether or not she preferred Will’s

  presence on the tree expedition. She could see his apprehension and suspected something unpleasant had already occurred between the two men. Of course,

  he would never say so; adding to the anxiety she was experiencing was the last thing he wished to do. Yet she knew what he would not tell her; her father might cause a scene if Will came with them. Elizabeth’s decision was to remain silent, knowing that this man would not leave her side unless she asked it of him. She simply held his hand a little tighter and felt the answering squeeze of his fingers.

  As it turned out, there were five of them setting out to get the tree. Mary sat in the back of Charles’ van with Elizabeth and Will while their father claimed the passenger seat in front. Several attempts at making safe conversation fell flat, eventually leaving Charles to discuss the weather with Ted.

  In a quiet voice Mary ventured some questions that were as far from

  controversy as possible. Elizabeth was thrilled to give her sister such attention and Mary appeared to relish it, too. Will suspected that the younger woman had come with them mainly to spend more time with the sister whose company she had been denied for more than a year and he was content to merely listen to their excited voices while gazing out the window.

  Considering the late date, Will wondered what sort of selection of trees Charles expected to find but he didn’t count on the expert eyes of both Elizabeth and Ted. The two Bennets had been doing last minute tree shopping for years and knew just what to look for. No sooner were they out of the van than the search was underway.

  Too dry. Too bare. Too short. Too narrow.

  It finally came down to the final choices. Elizabeth eyed the specimen her father presented. After careful consideration she pronounced it lacking in character.

  “Character?” Charles looked a little closer at them.

  “There’s nothing about it that sets it apart from the others, nothing to make it special,” she explained.

  Charles was only more confused. “It’s a tree.”

  “Let’s have a look at yours, Lizzy,” said Ted. He studied it, occasionally clucking his tongue. “A bit crooked. Look at the branches. Not a straight one in the lot.”

  “Perfection isn’t everything.” All eyes were on Will for daring to comment.

  “Overrated at times, I think,” added Elizabeth with a smile she tried to hide.

  “We’re talking about a tree that’s going to be covered with lights, tinsel and hanging decorations. Hardly a candidate for perfection,” scoffed Charles.

  “Symmetry is important,” Ted corrected. “Without it you’re going to have a lopsided monstrosity in your living room.”

  Elizabeth flinched. She reached for Will’s arm as she saw him angrily step forward. “Some people,” she managed in a shaky voice, “see only the potential and not the defects such an object offers.”

  Ted suddenly seemed to realise that they were no longer talking about the sad looking fir beside his daughter. “Some people confuse the difference in

  importance between objects and people.”

  “Yes,” sighed Charles. “They do.” He pointed to Elizabeth’s tree. “We’ll take that one. I like all the curvy branches.” Mary patted his arm in approval, her smile indicating how pleased she was that he’d averted an ugly argument.

  The tree was tied to the roof rack on the van, Mary worrying the entire trip home that it would come loose but the drive was without mishap. Even

  conversation was sparse, leaving Charles’ assurances and Mary’s fretting the only other sounds inside the vehicle. Before the engine was quiet Elizabeth out of her seat, struggling to open the side door. She felt Will’s arm wind around her waist, gently pulling her back so that he could reach the handle. Then he helped her down and followed her to the front door. Elizabeth paused a

  moment before entering the house, glancing back at her father as he helped Charles deal with the tree.

  The warmth and smells of dinner greeting them inside the door brought

  comfort to Elizabeth’s agitated nerves. Memories surfaced, of childhood

  holidays with her sisters; excited voices as they ran down the stairs to see what Santa had left. The recollections were not painful but sweet, giving rise to a desire for more, to see the eagerness of her own children and feel the joy that they would bring.

  “Lizzy, you must be exhausted.” Her mother approached, holding out her hand as if to lead Elizabeth to a chair. “Let me get you a cup of hot chocolate while you catch your breath.”

  “Mom,” Jane entreated. “She’s not fragile!” The prospect of hot chocolate

  brought back even more pleasant memories, however, and Elizabeth was happy to accept. Dolores gave her other daughter a smug smile before retreating to the kitchen. “Well, how did it go?” Jane asked.

  “Round one to Elizabeth,” declared Mary, flopping onto the couch.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She picked the better tree.” Mary began poking through a box on the floor at her feet. “I wondered where these went!” she said, holding up a strand of star shaped lights. “What else did you pilfer from home, Jane?”

  “That’s Lizzy’s box, actually.” Jane glanced apologetically at Elizabeth. “I thought you might like to put some of your own decorations out so I brought them up from downstairs.”

  “Oh,” breathed Elizabeth. “Jane, that was so thoughtful of you. Thanks.” She stared anxiously at the box.

  Will saw her reaction, considered what it meant, then pulled the box closer to her. Elizabeth touched its surface, closing her eyes. Then she inhaled deeply and bravely opened the lid.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tiny stars sparkled with reflected light from the window. Elizabeth lifted the string from the box to reveal a bed of tissue padding the remaining contents.

  Her fingers touched the paper as if testing it, then she withdrew her hand.

  “Wait until the tree is ready.” She put the star lights back in the box and closed it.

  Jane understood her reluctance to explore further while everyone else was

  watching. There were bound to be some reminders of her time with George.

  She slid the box behind the chair. “Good choice.”

  Dolores appeared, carrying a tray of steaming cups. “Here you go,” she

  announced. “Hot chocolate for everyone.” She handed a cup to a bemused

  Will.

  “Thank you,” he said, trying hard to look grateful. Elizabeth peered at him as she sipped at her own cup. Feeling a little pressure, he tasted the beverage. It was as sweet as he expected.

  “Well,” began Dolores, “did you have fun getting the tree?”

  Will nearly choked at the outrageous question. “I hadn’t realised that selecting a tree was such an art.”

  “Oh! Lizzy w
ill teach you all about it, I’m sure,” she said with wide eyed eagerness. “Teddy taught her everything from the time she was a little girl but she’s been able to pick them better more times that he does. Lizzy will teach your children the same thing!”

  “Mom!” hissed Jane, but Will was laughing.

  “Make room! Here we come!” A rustling mass of greenery preceded Charles

  into the room. “Where is the stand? I can’t see a thing.”

  Jane jumped up to guide him to the proper corner. “Over here.”

  Will took advantage of the confusion to lean close and whisper in Elizabeth’s ear. “How many children do you want?”

  She looked at him suspiciously but there was a sparkle lurking in his gaze.

  “How many do you want?”

  “I asked first,” he persisted.

  “Two.”

  “Six,” he countered.

  Elizabeth grinned. “Three.”

  “Five.”

  She let out a sigh. “Looks like we meet at four.”

  “It’s a deal. Just don’t tell your mother.” He was up and out of the chair before she could say another word. Elizabeth watched him help Charles wrestle the tree into place, allowing herself the pleasure of open admiration.

  “Lizzy.” Dolores had quickly settled herself in Will’s seat as soon as he’d left it. “He seems to be nice enough. Is he?”

  Offended, Elizabeth responded hotly. “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters! If he’s another George then I don’t want him anywhere near you anymore.”

  Her daughter stared incredulously. “It’s a bit late for that kind of concern.”

  Dolores impulsively covered her mouth with one hand. “No, Lizzy. It’s not too late. Don’t let it happen again. Get rid of him now.”

  A burst of laughter threatened to erupt from Elizabeth. Was her mother actually encouraging her to throw away the chance to capture a rich husband? “Mom–.”

  “I know that George fooled us. We can’t let Will do the same. My dear Lizzy,”

  she sniffed, pushing Elizabeth’s hair back from her face. “You have no idea how hard it was to not be able to do anything to stop George. Please don’t make us go through that again.”