Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3 (27 page)

‘No,’ said Elizabeth, her eyes shining.

‘I am looking forward to seeing Pemberley again. It is years since I have seen it. I hope you remember to invite me,’ said her aunt with a knowing smile.

Elizabeth was flustered.

‘You are going too fast. Nothing is certain,’ she began.

‘No. I know. And so I will not tease you. But I like your Mr Darcy, Elizabeth. You and Jane will be very happy women – and I rather think Mary will be happy as well.’

Elizabeth looked towards Mary, who was in her own blissful cloud as she danced with Mr Manningham.

It seemed that this night was a perfect night for everyone.

Unless . . . Suddenly she felt a chill. There was something different about the ballroom. The mood of enjoyment had subtly shifted. And surely there were fewer people there than there had been a short while before?

Her aunt returned her glance.

‘Yes. I feel it too,’ she said. ‘Something has changed. I must find Mr Stacey and ask him what has happened.’

Elizabeth nodded.

‘I will wait for you here,’ she said.

Mr Darcy was in the card room with his cousin approached him.

‘Darcy, a word,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Mr Darcy could tell by his tone of voice that something was wrong.

‘Things have moved more quickly than we anticipated,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam in a low voice, as the two men retreated to the corner of the room. ‘The French are advancing. The Prince of Orange has already left the ball and at this minute he is on his way to his field headquarters. Wellington will be leaving shortly and soon the ballroom will be empty as the rest of the officers follow their lead. War is upon us.’

‘This is grim news,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘Will the city be safe?’

Colonel Fitzwilliam hesitated.

‘Thank you. That tells me all I need to know,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘When are you leaving?’

‘In about a quarter of an hour,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘Wellington does not want us to leave all at once. It will be too obvious. He is concerned for morale. He does not want a panic. He wants a gradual removal.’

‘Then I will come with you.’

‘No,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a firm shake of the head. ‘You are not a soldier.’

‘But I am a gentleman, and as such I was taught to use a sword, fire a pistol and ride a horse,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘I will not put myself in unnecessary danger but I will go where you go and lend my strength if it is needed.’

‘No,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam again. ‘You must survive. Pemberley needs you.’

‘If Napoleon reaches Brussels, then no one will survive and Pemberley will lack a master just the same. I am determined to come with you. I must protect those I love and this is the best way. I must make sure the city remains safe so that the people within its walls are safe. I cannot bear to think of anything happening to them.’

His voice shook with emotion as he spoke. His hands clenched and unclenched by his side.

‘Very well,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘In truth, we can use every man we can get. Napoleon is a formidable general. He has crushed Europe under the boot of his heel once before and he can do so again. Stay close to me and do not take unnecessary risks.’

Mr Darcy nodded.

‘And now I suggest you make your farewells. It may be your last chance.’

Mr Darcy bowed and went out of the card room and into the ballroom. Already the numbers were thinning. Most people had not noticed what was happening, but as he approached Elizabeth he could see that she had been observant and knew something was wrong.

‘What is it?’ she asked him. ‘Please tell me the truth.’

He told her, and she shivered.

‘You are cold,’ he said solicitously, helping her to pull her shawl around her shoulders, for it had slipped down into the crook of her arm.

‘I am afraid,’ she said.

He lifted his hand and brushed her cheek with the back of it.

Such a gesture would be unthinkable in normal circumstances but the normal rules of etiquette were breaking down all around them as sons took leave of their mothers and husbands took leave of their wives.

‘I have to go,’ he said.

‘Where?’ she asked.

And then he saw the dawning of understanding cross her face.

‘You are going to fight,’ she said. ‘No! You cannot!’

‘I must,’ he said. ‘The city must hold and every able bodied man is needed.’

‘But not you!’ she said, her voice catching in her throat.

‘Yes, my love, even me,’ he said gently.

He extricated himself from her grasp and turned away but at the last moment he turned back.

‘Here,’ he said.

He took the signet ring from his little finger. He lifted her right hand, palm upwards, and placed the signet ring in it, then he closed her fingers around it.

‘Something to remember me by, in case . . .’

‘I could never forget you,’ she said in a low throbbing voice. ‘Not if the stars burned cold and the seas ran dry. And there is no “in case”. You must come back to me.’

‘I will,’ he said.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead.

‘God bless you and keep you safe, Lizzy,’ he said.

Then he turned on his heel and followed his cousin out of the ballroom.

Elizabeth went home and cried herself to sleep. The ball had been the best and the worst night of her life. She had found Mr Darcy again and lost him all in one evening. The remainder of the ball had passed like a nightmare. Everywhere people had been taking leave of their loved ones, wondering if they would ever see them again. The full horror of war was brought home to her, as it had not been in Hertfordshire, where she and her family had been protected from the conflict, safe in England’s green fields and sunny pastures. But now she had to face it and she wished – how she wished – they had all gone home with Lydia. But wishing such a thing was futile and so, once the dark night was over, she wasted no more time on it. She rose and refreshed herself with a cool bath, having not slept the night before and so not being refreshed through sleep. Then she dressed in a plain muslin gown and arranged her hair in a simple chignon. She hung Mr Darcy’s ring on a gold chain and fastened it round her neck, tucking it into her dress so that it did not show. Then she examined herself to make sure she was tidy.

The face that looked back at her from the mirror was pale and drawn.

She pinched her cheeks to put some colour in them, for she did not want her aunt to worry, and then she went downstairs.

Her aunt and Mrs Stacey were already there at the breakfast table. They looked up as she entered the room and their faces were grave.

‘This is a dark day, Lizzy,’ said her aunt.

Elizabeth nodded.

She took her place at the table, sweeping the skirt of her gown beneath her so that it should not crease, and looked at the breakfast laid out before her. There was a pot of chocolate and there were hot rolls and cakes, but she did not want any of it. She did not want to eat.

‘You must,’ said her aunt, as if reading her thoughts.

‘Yes,’ said Mrs Stacey bracingly. ‘There is only one thing to be done, and that is to carry on as normal.’

She had been through this kind of thing many times before. As the wife of a staff officer she was used to conflicts and her advice was good.

Jane came downstairs soon afterwards, followed by Mary and Kitty. They took their place at the table but the conversation was subdued. Normally, after a ball, there was much lively chatter as the Bennet sisters discussed their dancing partners, the music, the food, the clothes and every other aspect of the ball. But this morning no one wanted to talk about it.

No one except Mrs Bennet, that is. She came in a few minutes later and she was her usual self. She had had a fright the evening before, but it had not been so great a fright as when Lydia eloped, for Mrs Bennet was always more interested in her own family than anyone else.

‘You danced very well last night,’ said Mrs Bennet to Mary as she helped herself to a plate full of hot rolls and cake. ‘I dare say Mr Manningham will be calling this morning.’

‘He is going to speak to the Duke of Richmond about joining the reserves,’ said Mary. ‘He has a weak chest and so cannot join the regular army but he says someone must defend the city if Napoleon is victorious on the battlefield.’

The hot roll which Elizabeth had been attempting to eat turned to ashes in her mouth and she put it back on her plate, with only the smallest bite taken out of it.

‘He has a weak chest?’ asked Mrs Bennet, seizing on the only part of the conversation which interested her. ‘Dear me. He seemed such a healthy young man. But even the best of husbands has something. Has he said anything to you yet about speaking to your Papa? I am sure Mr Bennet would be happy to give him permission to marry you. You must encourage him, Mary. Gentlemen need a bit of encouragement.’

‘Mamma,’ said Elizabeth in low tones. ‘Did you not hear what Mary said? Mr Manningham has gone to join the reserves in case Napoleon invades the city.’

‘I am sure I don’t mind if Napoleon invades Brussels,’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘Why, when he invaded cities before he held the most splendid balls, as long as no one opposed him. I would not say no to a smart French officer for one of my girls. Kitty is not yet spoken for.’

They could not get her to think seriously on the subject and so as soon as breakfast was over, Elizabeth took a turn around the garden. It was small and enclosed but she felt better in the fresh air, and here she was not so much reminded of the conflict going on just a few short miles away, with Mr Darcy possibly wounded or dead.

I will not think of it
, she said to herself resolutely.

Here in the garden it was peaceful, but in the city beyond there was a military atmosphere. There was the constant sound of bugles and drums, with the wail of bagpipes adding to the noise. Soldiers were running through the streets with orders, there were horses neighing and hooves clattering and a sense of urgency which had been missing only twenty-four hours before.

Jane soon joined her.

The two ladies sat down on a bench and Elizabeth confided in Jane, telling her everything that had happened at the ball and her fears for the future.

She felt better having done so. There was a strong bond of love and affection between them and the mere presence of Jane consoled her more than an hour’s conversation with almost anyone else could have done.

The day passed slowly. Mr Manningham called in the afternoon to see how the ladies did and to tell them that he had been accepted for the reserves.

‘We, too, must be of use,’ said Mrs Stacey in her practical manner, once he had gone. ‘There will be wounded men coming into the city before long. We must make bandages.’

Mrs Bennet was horrified. She had visions of a triumphant army returning in shining uniforms, ready to dance the night away, or Napoleon marching in unopposed and arranging a ball.  She had no wish to make bandages or nurse the sick. But when Mrs Gardiner added her voice to Mrs Stacey’s, Mrs Bennet could no longer talk of triumphant balls and retired to her room with a bad head.

Elizabeth was glad to have something to do. Mrs Stacey was very good at organising everyone and soon they were all busy.

It was half way through the afternoon when they heard a booming noise and Elizabeth looked out of the window at the clear sky. She had expected to see clouds covering the sun and rain pouring down. But there was nothing.

A minute later it came again and she realised it was not thunder, it was the sound of cannon.

The battle was coming closer.

The following day, things were worse. As Elizabeth helped her aunt and Mrs Stacey prepare the spare bedrooms for injured men, and thought how the downstairs rooms, too, could be turned into accommodation for injured troops if necessary, there came a rumour that the Allies were in retreat. The news came from the Netherlandish battalions who flooded the city, saying all was lost.

‘This is a rumour, nothing more,’ said Mrs Stacey firmly. ‘In war time, all sorts of rumours fly about.’

‘But the men were on the battlefield. They must know,’ said Jane.

Her voice was frightened.

Elizabeth took her hand and squeezed it but she too was frightened.

‘They know what happened on their part of the battlefield, and to their battalions,’ said Mrs Stacey bracingly. ‘They do not know what happened elsewhere, and to other battalions. We will not believe this until the rumour is confirmed. In the meantime, ladies, we must carry on.’

‘Other people do not feel the same,’ said Kitty in frightened voice. She looked out of the window, where carriages were hurrying past, full of people trying to escape. ‘Oh, please send for the carriage. I want to go home.’

‘I know, my dear,’ said Mrs Stacey. ‘But it is no use sending for the carriage. The streets will soon be blocked and we are better here, in the house, where we can be comfortable, instead of being cooped up in a carriage getting hot and bothered and going nowhere.’

‘Mrs Stacey is right,’ said Mary. ‘We must carry on.’

Mary no longer spoke in a prosing tone. She had some experience to guide her and although she had not lost her desire to moralise entirely it was now well regulated and her comments were useful rather than preaching.

They all returned to their work, but they did so with heavy hearts.

‘I am sure he is safe,’ whispered Jane to Elizabeth. ‘He is with his cousin, who is a very experienced military campaigner. He will come through.’

‘Oh, Jane,’ said Elizabeth, with a sob in her voice. ‘What if he doesn’t?’

‘Now, now, we will not think of that,’ said Mrs Stacey, who had overheard them.

‘Mrs Stacey is right, Lizzy,’ said Mrs Gardiner in a more sympathetic tone. ‘It is always better to hope for the best. If you imagine the worst and it never comes to pass then you have tortured yourself unnecessarily.’

‘And if it comes to the worst?’ asked Elizabeth in a drooping voice.

‘Then you have extended the pain.’

Elizabeth saw the sense of her aunt’s argument and she vowed to remain as cheerful as possible, and as useful as possible, until – and unless – she
knew
there was a reason to be otherwise.

Mrs Stacey’s words proved prophetic. More and more carriages crowded the streets until they could not move as people tried to flee the city before Napoleon arrived.

But there was no time to worry about it, for soon afterwards, carts began coming the other way, bringing the wounded into the city.

Elizabeth wanted to run out of the house and look for Mr Darcy, in case he should be among the wounded, but her arm held her back.

‘Let Mrs Stacey’s servants go,’ she said. ‘They are used to it. I will ask them to enquire for our friends and I will number Mr Darcy among them.’

Elizabeth gave her aunt her heartfelt thanks.

Soon, wounded men started to appear at the house. Those with serious injuries were taken elsewhere but those with light wounds were taken in by any house which would take them.

‘Are the Miss Bennets prepared for this?’ Elizabeth heard Mrs Stacey saying in a low voice to Mrs Gardiner. ‘There is no shame if they are not. The men are filthy and blood-soaked.’

Elizabeth stepped forward.

‘We will manage,’ she said.

‘Good,’ said Mrs Stacey. ‘Bravely spoken. If you feel faint there is no shame in it and you should withdraw to your room until you feel better. But I would value your help if you feel able to aid me. It will not be proper for you to tend anyone who needs too much assistance. The servants will assist Mrs Gardiner and I with that. But there are many men with light sounds who still need help, and who would value someone to write a letter for them or simply lift their spirits.’

Elizabeth, Mary and Jane were soon helping. Kitty was distressed at the sight of the injured men and Mrs Stacey saw it, so she asked Kitty to sit with Mrs Bennet.

‘You will be performing a vital duty,’ she said to Kitty. ‘Your Mamma needs someone with her at this trying time.’

Kitty was relieved to have a task more suited to her abilities and she retreated with her dignity intact.

Indeed, it
was
a vital duty, since Mrs Bennet had gone into hysterics when she entered the drawing-room expecting to find afternoon tea, and had been confronted with gentlemen who had bloody bandages on their hands and heads instead. She had retreated to her room and taken Hill to comfort her, but Hill was a sensible body who was in fact a great help, once Kitty had taken her place in attending to Mrs Bennet.

The day passed in a blur. Everyone was glad to be busy since it stopped them thinking and fearing the worst. At last, exhausted, Elizabeth climbed into bed. She fell asleep at once and dreamt of Mr Darcy.