by Linda Wells
Bingley and Jane lay together. They had given up their separate bedchambers after their last visit to Pemberley. Jane instantly fell asleep, a result of her condition and their unusual late night. Bingley was wide awake, his mind alive with thoughts of the next few days, when he would at last move into his own estate and would be the one hosting such wonderful celebrations, surrounded by his family and friends.
Kathleen and Richard had always slept together, from the first night. They climbed into the bed and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, lost in thought. Kathleen was also thinking. Richard had been oddly withdrawn since they left Rosings, and his characteristic joviality had been strained. The nightmares, which were lessening, seemed to have returned with a vengeance and she found herself staying awake in his arms, awaiting its nightly arrival. But today, something was different. He almost seemed to be in pain, but she did not feel that she could talk to him about it. He seemed especially nervous in Elizabeth’s company, and almost wary of William. The nagging feeling that her husband was attracted to Elizabeth grew.
As Kathleen silently pondered her dark thoughts, Richard examined every second of the time he spent with Elizabeth that night. He tried to remember every feeling, every subtle nuance of both of their behaviour, attempting to determine if what he felt was love or lust, and whatever it was how to banish it without destroying his relationship with her, Darcy, and especially with his wife. He heard his father’s voice. “Let her go. Keep her in your heart, but let her go.” He gradually fell asleep, and within minutes, the dream began.
A familiar voice yelled, “No, no this must stop!” This dream was different, he was astride his horse, watching a battle unfold, screaming orders to his men to advance, to take the enemy. All around him were the bodies of the infantry men, bloodied, wounded, dead, and his cavalry was advancing. Bullets flew, a horse screamed and fell, crushing its rider, and still they advanced. A civilian version of himself watched from the periphery, observing the soldier Richard still pushing forward although the battle was lost. The civilian Richard called to his soldier self to stop, come back, retreat, live . . . and to his surprise, the soldier halted his advancing troops, and sat still on his horse, staring straight ahead at the unseen, distant prize. The civilian Richard stood panting; begging him to turn around, but this time his voice was joined by a second. A soft, pleading, woman’s voice called the soldier back. With her words, the horseman tore his gaze from the horizon to seek the woman . . . At that moment he awoke, shaking and sweating, and opened his eyes to meet Kathleen’s worried gaze.
“It is well Richard, you are safe.” She stroked his brow.
He stared at her. “You are really here.” He whispered. She nodded. He clutched her tightly and burst into tears, sobbing like he had not done since he was a small boy. She stroked his head, worried, frightened, and confused. Gulping and gasping he finally regained control of himself. “Forgive me, Katie.”
“You have done nothing wrong, Richard. . .” She stroked his face and kissed him. “Will you tell me what tortures you so? You kept calling out, “Turn back!” Were you in a battle?”
He stared into her eyes. “Yes, it is the greatest battle of my life, but tonight, I think the tide may have turned.”
“I do not understand.”
“Neither do I, Katie-love, but if you will just please bear with me, I think all will be well. Will you trust me, please?’ He stroked her hair from her face and held her to him. She pressed her face to his. “Yes, Richard, but will you explain it to me someday?”
“Yes, someday, when the battle is over.”
NOBODY AROSE EARLY the following day. Even Darcy and Elizabeth forego their walking ritual in favour of breakfast in bed and a long soak together in their enormous bathtub. The Pemberley guests did not begin to venture downstairs until nearly noon.
Richard and Mark were the first, both leaving their wives to sleep, and with no one else about, the two brothers made their way to the empty billiards room and began a game. “I cannot remember the last time you and I were alone like this.” Mark said as he set up his shot. “It seems that some family member is always present.” His cue struck and the balls scattered, one sinking home in the far left corner. He moved to assess the balls and began the next shot. “How do you find marriage?”
Richard sighed. “It is wonderful and challenging all at once.”
Mark laughed. “So it is, but I suspect Brother, you were wiser than I, you made a love match.”
Richard startled. “Do you think so?”
Mark looked at him quizzically. “You mean you did not? I mean, aside from the fact that Kathleen brought nothing to the marriage, and she obviously was not with child, what other reason would you have to choose her? Once you inherited Rosings your options for a wife were wide open. You could have chosen the daughter of a peer and been as happy as I.” This last was said with some bitterness.
“Are you unhappy?”
“Do not mind me. I made the match I was born to make. I have the marriage that brought Laura’s thirty thousand pounds to Matlock. We are content with each other.” He struck the cue ball again.
“I always thought it was better than that.”
“So did I, but after seeing you with Kathleen, and even more so, Darcy with Elizabeth, I see the deficiencies in my lot.”
“Father told me it took time for him and Mother to develop the closeness you see now.”
“Yes he said the same to me.” He mused, then looking up he asked, “Do you, one who does have a love match, feel inadequate around our cousin’s example?”
Richard smiled, there it was again, twice his brother told him in one conversation that he was in a love match. His confidence in himself and his marriage grew. “Yes, I feel completely outdone by him. Nobody I have ever known has displayed such deep affection and I do not know that I could give myself over to it. They seem to breathe for each other. I know that Darcy is fiercely protective of her, and no one should attempt to threaten his happiness. Look at what he did to Wickham. Did you ever imagine Darcy capable of such violence, or such emotion?”
“No it was shocking. He is fiercely loyal to the family but his affection for Elizabeth . . . my God, he kisses her in public! Before the servants, without care! They display such affection, not just physical; it is as if they. . .” He sighed and looked at his brother. “Listen to me, the jealous cousin. Darcy disregarded society’s dictates and he is happy.”
“Can you not be happy, too? What has Laura said about Darcy? She seemed cool to it until she met Elizabeth. She now seems to have accepted her. I cannot say the same of Kathleen, but as long as she is civil, I can bear it. Does Laura seem at all . . . curious, envious of Darcy and Elizabeth’s devotion?”
“I am not sure; we have not spoken of it.”
“Darcy tells me that communication is the key to his happiness. Trust and communication strengthens their love. They have no secrets.”
Mark raised a brow. “And do you live by that?”
“I am working on it.” He admitted.
Mark leaned close to Richard. “Did you see the way Elizabeth stared at him in the fencing room?”
“It was difficult to miss.” He smiled.
“Did you hear him in the sitting room?” They grinned. “What do you suppose she was doing to him?” The brothers laughed, green with envy and admiration.
“Perhaps there is something to Darcy’s communication theory.” Mark sank the last ball and the two brothers left the room to seek out the rest of the party.
TWO DAYS AFTER THE BALL, Bingley and Jane removed to Lyndon Hall. The Bennets were to accompany them, and stay for a few nights to see Jane’s new home, then return to Longbourn. Darcy had done his best to behave civilly to Mr. Bennet for Elizabeth’s sake, and was relieved to see him go, although admittedly, he had seen little of him as the man practically moved into the library. Elizabeth embraced each Bennet and Bingley with promises to write and perhaps visit soon.
With ju
st the Fitzwilliam family as guests, the atmosphere of Pemberley relaxed considerably. One morning, Georgiana was busy with Laura and her aunt, so Elizabeth offered to show Kathleen her little oasis of summer, the conservatory.
The two women entered the humid room, fragrant with the damp earth and blooming exotic plants. “This room will keep me sane until spring comes again, I think. I never felt winter so keenly until I came here. Derbyshire is so different from Hertfordshire. Where did you grow up, Kathleen?”
“Oh, in Kent, so the Rosings winter is nothing new to me, but I would enjoy a room such as this, it does still become cold there.”
They sat on a bench together. “Have things improved for you? Are you feeling more confident?”
“A little, I am afraid that I will never truly be at ease.” She looked down. “I will never be like you, Elizabeth.”
She laughed. “Why would you want to be?”
“You are so confident, and seem to handle everything with such skill. The open house, the family, Christmas, the ball, everything was done so well.”
“I hardly did it alone. You have a staff, as well.
“You do everything so well, Elizabeth, especially your marriage. William is clearly very happy. I can see why so many men admire you.”
Elizabeth was surprised. “What do you mean? Who admires me?”
Kathleen’s eyes opened wide. “They all do! Have you not seen how they stare at you?”
“If they do, I have not noticed. I am afraid I only seek my husband’s gaze.” Kathleen studied and believed her. No, Elizabeth was not seeking anyone’s attention. “Is something bothering you, Kathleen?” She asked gently.
She burst into tears. “I think Richard loves another.”
Elizabeth embraced her. “Oh Kathleen! That cannot be true! He clearly loves you!”
“I thought so, but ...” She looked into Elizabeth’s eyes. “I think he loves you, Elizabeth.”
She gasped, not from surprise, as she knew of his old infatuation, but because he still harboured it. “What makes you think that?”
“He speaks of you with admiration, almost reverence. He became nervous when we came here. He has avoided talking to you since we arrived, but sought you out to dance, and gazed at you. Do you have any feelings for him? Has he spoken to you?” She begged her for reassurance.
“Oh Kathleen, yes I have feelings for him, but nothing more that as a cousin and friend. I have never wished for his attentions. William is the first and only man I will ever give my heart.”
“And has he ever spoken to you of his feelings?” She said softly.
“Once, before I married William, he said that he wished for the kind of love he saw that I had with his cousin. I did not allow him to elaborate, but instead told him I hoped someday he would find, well, someone like you.”
Kathleen stared at the floor. “Do you think he was in love with you?”
“I do not know. I do think he was envious of William and felt guilty for it. Richard has suffered greatly and silently with his army experiences. William was his only confidant. I imagine you have replaced him.” She tilted her head to find Kathleen’s downcast eyes.
She nodded slowly. “He has nightmares of the battles. Last night. . .” Elizabeth held her hand. She drew a breath and continued. “Last night when I was able to wake him he sobbed like a child, but when he recovered, he somehow seemed better, he said the tide had turned and I should bear with him, all would be well.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I must.” She looked up. “Do you really think that he loves me?”
Elizabeth squeezed her hand and smiled. “I do Kathleen. He loves, but is frightened by it.”
“What about his feelings for you?
“Whatever they are, be assured that you are in no danger from me, and for him, if he has them, it seems that he may have found a way to let them go. Trust him, do as he asks, and bear with him as he struggles. I think that your marriage will come out stronger in the end. I promise you, he has never acted on his feelings for me, whatever they were or are. Never. He has always been faithful to you.” She paused. “And sometime when you are sure of yourself, bring the subject up with him. Do not let this fear fester for either of you.”
Kathleen wiped her eyes and hugged her friend. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”
WHILE ELIZABETH AND KATHLEEN SPOKE, the men gathered in Darcy’s study to discuss how they would address any questions about Elizabeth’s kidnapping. Darcy was furious that he would have to speak on it at all. He wished to never think of the experience again. They agreed that the less said the better, and as the details were not let out, there was no reason to elaborate. They would only say that Elizabeth was accosted by a vagrant and the man was arrested, nothing more. Their wives would all be told the story, and hopefully the news would die quickly. Lord Matlock reminded his nephew that upon arriving in London, they could not simply hide in Darcy House. They must be seen around town, and accept invitations as a couple before Georgiana’s coming out. They needed to satisfy all of those curious about Elizabeth and her spectacular catch of Darcy before they held their own ball. Darcy moaned but agreed.
When the meeting adjourned, he cornered the first footman he saw and demanded Elizabeth’s location. The footman, like all of the staff, still watched over her since Wickham, and immediately told Darcy she was in the library. There he found her alone, in their chair, waiting for him. He gratefully slipped in beside her and told her of their conversation that day. William angrily confirmed Kathleen’s supposition of Richard. Elizabeth was not surprised. She assured him she was ready to take on the ton. That only angered him again. It took a great deal of work to soothe him from his bear of a mood.
The next morning, two carriages sat outside of the door. They would all meet again in London in about five weeks. Richard was clandestinely observed by his wife, parents and cousin when he bid Elizabeth farewell. He embraced her and kissed her cheek as usual, but for the first time, he did not feel the longing he had in the past. The relief in his eyes was reflected in her smile, and she whispered so only he could hear, “Go home and love Kathleen.”
He drew back and nodded. “I will, I promise.” He turned to Darcy and clasped his hand. “Thank you for everything, we will see you soon.”
Darcy embraced him, hoping that his cousin had finally found peace. “Take good care, Richard, I will miss you.” Soon the two carriages travelling in separate directions departed, leaving Pemberley once again to the three Darcys.
Chapter 39
Since returning home to Rosings three weeks earlier, Richard had plunged into his duties as Master with a new energy, seemingly determined to learn everything he could from Mr. Barnes. The two men spent countless hours together, discussing the planting designs the steward had devised. Richard was not completely unfamiliar with the process. He did pay some attention to Darcy when he accompanied him each Easter. But this time he was working on his estate, not his aunt’s. This time it was his life at stake.
His dreams improved. They were not as violent, not as frequent, and when they occurred, he seemed somehow more conscious and was able to gain control before waking in the grip of fear. Kathleen was starting to sleep through the night as well, giving up her watch over him. His self-confidence was improving. Frequent letters from his father, brother, and Darcy giving him advice and guidance buoyed his strength. He began to feel that perhaps he could do well, for him and his wife.
Kathleen did as he bid, she waited, and supported him as best she could, but the knowledge of his admiration of Elizabeth was eating away at her and she determined to speak to him.
She entered his study. “Richard.”
He looked up from the papers he was reading, refocused on her, and smiled. “Katie! You are a welcome diversion! What can I do for you?”
She stood before his desk and asked nervously, “Do you have time to talk with me?”
“Always, you know that. What do you need?”
She sat down
and began, “Your mother asks when we expect to go to London. She wishes to make an appointment with the modiste for me.”
“Ah yes, your presentation gown. You will need a great number of gowns, I suspect. I will need to visit the tailor as well.” He mused, and then smiled. “I thought we would leave in a fortnight.”
She nodded. “The Darcys should be in town by then.”
“Yes, Darcy said they will arrive, barring any travel problems, this Saturday.”
She bit her lip. “I look forward to seeing Elizabeth.” She watched him carefully.
He smiled softly, now sure that he had control of his feelings for her. “So do I.” He looked up at Kathleen and was dismayed to see tears. He jumped to his feet and kneeled before her chair. “Katie, what is wrong?” He tried to take her hands but she pulled away and stood and walked to the window. He began to move towards her when he heard the pained, angry, broken voice. “It is true then, you are in love with her.”
“Pardon? Katie. . .”
She turned and faced him, she had to know, especially now. “Tell me the truth, Richard. I cannot bear any more.” He walked to her but she put out her hand, palm up. She could not do this if he was touching her.
Richard stared at her, and then hung his head. Why now? Why would she ask him now when he thought he finally had it under control? She need never have found out . . . it was useless to speculate. She was before him. He sighed and sat behind his desk, and motioned her to the chair she occupied before. “What do you wish to know, Katie?”
“Do you love Elizabeth?”
“Yes, I do.” She sobbed and put her handkerchief to her mouth, and he quickly continued. “But, you must know, I am no longer IN love with her. I am completely committed to you and shall remain that way until the day I die.” He desperately wanted to hold her, but instinctively knew she needed the distance maintained.
