Page 52 of Missing

"Papa, is Mama going to get well soon?" Kitty asked a little nervously.

"We are doing everything we can to help her, Kitty. Your aunt is tending to your mother, and we hope Lizzy will send for a physician very soon," explained Mr Bennet.

"Papa, Kitty asked if our mother will get well, and you have not answered her question," Lydia said, almost in tears.

"I am sorry, Lydia, but I am not a doctor. However, your mother is a strong woman, and I trust that with the proper care, she will recover."

Mary remained silent. She could see that her father was worried, and it was evident that he had slept very little. Although breakfast was abundant, each of them ate scarcely anything. In recent days, sadness had hung over Longbourn, and even Lydia scarcely spoke or felt inclined to do anything.

Mr Bennet had often complained of his wife and the tempest she created within their household.

Yet he would have given anything at that moment to have Mrs Bennet seated at the table with them.

He knew that his brother-in-law had sent an express to Elizabeth, and he hoped she would be able to do something to help her mother.

He could not expect any assistance from Jane.

"Lizzy, what can we do?" Jane asked, deeply concerned.

"I shall do what Papa asked of me: I shall find a physician and, within a few hours, travel to Longbourn to ensure everything is well," Elizabeth replied, more composed. The first shock of learning of her mother's illness had given way to sober concern, and she felt she must act without delay.

"Lizzy, please let me help you. You need not do this alone. I shall speak to uncle Gardiner immediately; he must know a doctor who can travel with us without delay," Jane said, forgetting her own troubles. Her mother's health was her only concern.

Elizabeth clasped her sister's hand. "Thank you, Jane. That is an excellent idea, for it will allow me time to speak to William and explain everything." She was comforted to see Jane acting once more as the gentle, caring sister she had always been, not as a pale imitation of Louisa and Caroline.

William and his mother came down to breakfast in high spirits. They both felt that matters were at last clear between them and no longer feared what the future might hold. Violet knew her son loved her as a true mother, and that certainty was her greatest comfort.

But when William saw his wife, he perceived at once that something was amiss. Elizabeth looked pale and troubled, as if some dreadful news had reached her.

"My love, what has happened?" he asked.

"William, I have received grievous news from Longbourn," Elizabeth replied.

William took her hand and seated her beside him, while Violet offered to leave them alone. Elizabeth assured her it was unnecessary, so Violet sat opposite, anxious to hear. Elizabeth explained her uncle's letter and that Jane had gone to speak to the Gardiners.

William was surprised that Mrs Bingley had arrived so early, yet he restrained his curiosity and listened in silence.

"William, you must understand that I must travel to see my mother."

"Of course, my dear. We shall leave at once for Hertfordshire. I shall speak to Uncle Gardiner immediately so that everything may be arranged," William began.

Elizabeth, however, pressed his hand and spoke with great tenderness. "William, you must remain in London. There are matters here which you cannot neglect. First, you must speak to Colonel Fitzwilliam and learn more of…" She hesitated, glancing at Violet, uncertain how much she knew.

"I agree with Elizabeth," Violet said calmly. "You must speak to the colonel and Mr Darcy without delay. These are decisions that cannot be postponed."

Elizabeth understood that her mother-in-law knew more than she had realised, and she assumed William had confided in her. She did not know that Violet had discovered the truth herself.

"I cannot allow this, Elizabeth. What husband leaves his wife alone when she needs him most? My own concerns can wait," William said firmly.

"William, I know I have the best husband a woman could wish for, but I beg you to stay and attend to what you must. I promise, if I should need you, I shall send an express and you may come to me."

"If it eases your mind, William," Violet added gently, "I can accompany Lizzy and support her in all she requires."

"Thank you, Mama Violet. Your presence will indeed be of great comfort," Elizabeth said.

Both ladies pressed William with affectionate arguments until at last he yielded.

"Very well, I shall remain in London, but only if my mother travels with you, and if you both promise to send for me the moment you require my presence."

"I promise, my dearest," Elizabeth said, kissing his cheek.

William submitted reluctantly, comforted only by the thought that the separation would be brief.

Mr Gardiner arranged for his friend Dr Turner to travel with them to Longbourn.

He also asked William to attend to his business in case of any emergency.

Jane sent word home for a travelling bag to be prepared and delivered to her uncle's house, and she wrote to her husband.

But, as was their habit, Caroline and Louisa read the letter first and delayed giving it to Charles until the evening, by which time Jane would already be in Hertfordshire.

They wished to keep their brother far from the Bennets and Netherfield.

That afternoon, everything was ready for their departure. Mr Gardiner and Dr Turner travelled in one carriage, while Elizabeth, Violet, and Jane rode in the Daltons' principal carriage.

William bade farewell to Jane with formal politeness, for his trust in her was shaken. He embraced his mother with true affection, thanking her for supporting Elizabeth. At last, he took leave of his wife, unable to forget how he had suffered the last time they were parted.

"Never forget how dearly I love you, Elizabeth. I shall miss you greatly, but I know your mother needs you. I pray it may soon be resolved, so you may return to London and to your husband."

"I hope so, too, William. I love you."

"And I love you, my dearest Elizabeth."

Forgetting all who stood near, William took his wife in his arms and kissed her tenderly. When he released her and helped her into the carriage, he noticed Jane observing them silently. At last, Elizabeth was seated, and the carriage rolled away towards Hertfordshire.

William remained in the street, watching his beloved wife depart once more, and prayed it would be the last such separation.

◆◆◆

Richard was anxiously awaiting William's arrival.

He had so many questions to ask, and he was eager to know what he had to tell him.

His cousin's memory of Roger had been so precise that it was impossible for anyone but those involved to know it.

For a fleeting moment, Richard even wondered if Wickham had been privy to the matter and that Dalton was his accomplice, but he soon dismissed the idea.

Not even that scoundrel could have known such a detail.

In addition, Dalton bore a striking resemblance to the Darcys; there were far too many coincidences. Yet the greater mystery remained: what had happened in that river, and how had his cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy been raised as the son of the Daltons?

Richard grew uneasy. William Dalton was always punctual, and yet it was nearly half an hour beyond the appointed time, and he was still waiting. Richard wondered whether his cousin had changed his mind or felt unready for the conversation.

"Good afternoon, Fitzwilliam," William said as he approached. "I am sorry for my delay, but an emergency arose at home."

Richard noticed at once how nervous his friend appeared. "Pray, do not concern yourself. I hope all is well with your wife and Mrs Dalton," he said with genuine kindness.

"My MOTHER and Elizabeth are well. It is my mother-in-law who is in poor health, which is why my wife has had to travel to Hertfordshire." William disliked that Richard referred to Violet as Mrs Dalton rather than your mother , so he chose to make clear who Violet Dalton truly was in his life.

"I am sorry to hear it, and I sincerely hope she recovers soon," Richard replied, though his impatience grew.

"Thank you for your kind wishes. But we should address the true reason I am here. Once again, I must tell you that I cannot explain the memories that come and go; it is precisely for that reason I asked you to meet me."

"I understand perfectly, and I want you to know I am ready to help in whatever way you require," Richard said sincerely. He ordered two brandies and invited William to sit in a quieter corner where they would not be disturbed.

When they were comfortably seated, William began without further hesitation.

"My mother found me upon the bank of a river, clinging to the trunk of a tree.

I have scarcely any recollection of that episode, yet I suffer flashes of memory—visions of being carried by the torrent from one place to another.

For much of my life, these have come only as dreams."

"My cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy fell into a rushing river, and his body was never recovered. After what you told me the other day at my parents' house, I think it is more than evident who you are. Or do you doubt it?" Richard asked.

"I suppose I must accept what seems plain, although a year ago I should have doubted it entirely.

The truth is, ever since I met Miss Darcy, I have dreamt of a lady who resembled her.

She read me bedtime stories. She had a soft and affectionate voice, yet she was pale and fragile.

I do not understand why I remember only that and nothing else. "

"The lady of your memories must be aunt Anne. Before you turned five, she was very ill after a miscarriage," Richard explained.