Chapter Twenty-eight

 

 

…There’s nothing like having a woman to warm your bed on a cold winter’s night…

 

The next morning Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth woke to a cold house. The Cumberland Plateau, known for its harsh wet winters, occasionally experienced a winter storm that broke power lines with ice and deep snow, shutting down everything. This was such a storm.

Elizabeth shivered as she glanced at the blank alarm clock. “Oh, no! It looks like the power is off. We must have had a winter storm in the night. It did look like snow. We should have listened to the ten o’clock news,” Elizabeth said, pulling the covers up and snuggling closer to her husband. “It’s cold in here. It almost makes me wish I had my gown.”

“You don’t need flannel, Liz. I’ll keep you warm, but I do want to look outside and see what happened during the night.” He kissed her forehead and tumbled out of bed. Grabbing his robe from the bench at the foot of the bed, he wrapped it tightly around him and walked over to the window and pulled back the drapes.

“It looks as if you’re right.” He grinned over his shoulder. “The grounds and street are covered in white. It must be at least six inches. Umm… it’s beautiful. Would you like to come and take a look?”

“No,” she quickly responded. “It’s cold. Come back to bed, or I’m getting up to find my gown.”

“I don’t think so.” He strolled back to the bed and dropped his robe before rejoining her under the thick covers. “Come here, darling,” he said as he folded her into his arms, “I’ll keep you warm.”

His heated caresses traced her silky skin until with a soft moan, Elizabeth pulled him on top of her, and they were once again making love.

Lying there in his arms, feeling completely satiated, Elizabeth murmured, “Fitzwilliam, we need to get up. We’re not prepared for a winter emergency like this, but Jane is. If the hot water is still available, let’s take a quick shower and then go over to Charles and Jane’s. They will have an ample supply of wood for the wood-burning stove, and there’s a generator with plenty of gasoline.”

“What about cooking? Will we be able to cook?”

“Yes, she has a gas stove, and if that doesn’t work, we can always cook on the woodstove. But we do need to pack enough clothes and things for a few days. If it’s as I suspect, the power will be off at least three days.”

“Well then, as far as I’m concerned, let it snow. I, for one, will enjoy a few days off, and I’m sure the students will as well. Let’s get up. I’ll light the gas log.” He threw back the covers and rolled out of bed, followed by his wife. After the log was lit, they made their way to the shower. Thankfully, hot water was still available, so after a speedy shower, they dressed, packed two duffel bags, and then carefully made the bed.

As Elizabeth sat at her dressing table, Fitzwilliam sat behind her by the fire and gently combed her hair. When it was sufficiently dry, he fashioned it in a long French braid to wear down her back, admiring it as he plaited.

“Elizabeth, have I ever told you how much I love your hair?”

“Umm…yes, you tell me every time you brush it.”

“Yes, I suppose I do at that.” He softly laughed while putting the final touches on her braid. “I hope you never cut it.”

“I have no plans to ever cut it. I’ve always had long hair. As Grandmother Barnett would say, it’s my crowning glory. Her hair was so long, it touched the floor, but of course, she was only five feet tall, and I’m five eight. I don’t think I will let mine get that long.” She smiled as she turned her head from side to side, admiring her husband’s handiwork.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I would mind if you did. Just don’t cut it short. Your hair is one of the things that makes you uniquely you. Now come on, we need to get going.” He pulled her up from her vanity seat and smacked her bottom.

“Fitzwilliam! You keep that up and we’ll be back in bed!” she playfully said as she reached up and kissed his chin.

“If we had the time, I wouldn’t say no. But we really should go. Tonight, we’ll play in your old bed at your sister’s house.”

She placed her arm around his waist and leaned into his tall frame. “You impish man. Don’t you ever get enough?”

“Not when I have an impish princess to please.” He grinned and kissed her cheek as he nudged her towards the door.

They made their way downstairs, stopping long enough to straighten the house and pick up their clothes from the sitting room and put them in the laundry chute. Elizabeth packed her birthday presents in her duffel bag, and when everything was in place, they bundled up to set out for their trip around the corner.

As they trod through the snow, Fitzwilliam made note of his wife’s good humor. Her features were bright and cheerful, like that of a child, but she was certainly not a child. She took him places he hadn’t been in years. In fact, she had taken him places he’d never been before, and she had a way of bringing out the playful side of him that he had long forgotten existed. His wife could light up his world with a simple smile, and he loved her more than he’d ever imagined he would. He smiled as they turned the corner onto Elm Street.

As they trudged through the snow, she reached her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder, shivering, but he suspected she was not cold in the least. They seemed to have that effect on one another. After walking up the steps of the Bennett townhouse, they shook the snow from their boots and were about to knock when Jane and Charles came out with shovels in hand.

“Oh, Lizzy, I’m so glad you have come. We were just about to clear the walkway, but we can do that later. Come inside and warm yourselves. I have coffee, hot chocolate, and some fresh blueberry scones.”

They entered the foyer and peeled off the layers of clothing while the sisters laughed and planned the day. “That sounds wonderful, Jane. Umm… I can smell those scones now! I can’t wait to eat.” Elizabeth laughed. “I’m in such a good mood today. Let’s cook chicken and dumplings, and I want to bake a sweet potato pie and potato sourdough bread. Do you think we can get the gas oven lit, and do you still have some Christmas tea?” she asked. “Since Charles and Fitzwilliam were not here for Christmas, perhaps we can have a cup of tea and sit by the fire like we would at Christmas.”

“Yes, there’s plenty left, and that sounds like a good idea. Let the men take care of shoveling away the snow. Let’s cook and put in an Alabama CD—the red one over there. Ultimate Alabama,” she pointed. “I’ll put on the kettle for the tea.”

“Good, that sounds great, and later we’ll play in the snow.”

Fitzwilliam glanced at Charles with a broad smile. “Charles, I think we’ve been relegated to the cleanup crew. Let’s get the shovels. Did you get the generator going, or do you need help?”

“Yes, the generator is running. We have plenty of gasoline, but we do need to bring in some more firewood.”

By the time the men came in the house from clearing the walkway, the girls were giggling and singing as Song of the South played. Elizabeth ran up at Fitzwilliam. “I love you, Fitzwilliam. Have I told you lately?”

“Yes, I believe you have, but I love to hear it, so continue telling me whenever the mood strikes,” he said, smiling down at his Liz in his arms. “Now, Charles and I will get the wood, and when you ladies are ready, we’ll go outside and play,” Fitzwilliam said as he turned to Bingley.

“The wood is in the mudroom. Come, Darcy, we’ll get it,” Charles said.

The men gathered the wood, put some of it in the stove, and then loaded the fireplace and stoked the fire. When they finished their tasks, they went to the library for brandy and cigars while they waited for their wives to finish in the kitchen.

“Darcy, I don’t think I have ever been happier than I am at this moment. I’m certainly glad we went to White’s that day. It was Providence or Fate, I don’t know which, but I’m glad Dickens found us.” Bingley sighed, contented as he sipped his brandy and puffed his cigar.

“As we talked the day before yesterday, Charles, I think Divine Providence had everything to do with it. We were meant to be here. John Bennet is the lost branch of the family your great-great Aunt Tessie spoke of.”

“Hum, well, she was certainly old enough to remember stories and rumors. She lived well into her nineties and had a rabid curiosity about the family ancestry. Unfortunately, none of us cared enough to listen, but now that you and I have talked, and Jane has filled me in, I’m keenly interested, and like you, I’ve been reading the Bennet journals. Jane is certain that we are indeed the fulfillment of her ancestor’s promise, and that somehow our ancestors’ spirits brought you and me here. She believes in Providence. She even told me of an old Indian legend. Something about white doves and unfinished business. She thinks they have everything to do with us.” Bingley paused to puff his cigar. “Also there is one other curious point. Jane had an aunt, Cordelia Bennet Cole, who gave a prophecy on her deathbed, and Darcy, this is spooky, but it was the very oracle Aunt Tessie pronounced on her deathbed, except that the man and woman were fair-haired and she said nothing about troubles.”

“Troubles?”

“Yes, Jane says their aunt predicted that the couple would endure hardships. This is what she said.” Bingley went on to relay all that Jane had told him. When he finished his tale, he looked up. “Jane claims to have the second sight—a Scottish folklore. She says Lizzy has it, too, but won’t admit to it. What do you think Darcy?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She could be right, but Elizabeth doesn’t subscribe to superstitions, and will hear none of it. However, I do believe in Fate, but as to an Indian legend, that I’m unsure of. And as far as Scottish folklore goes, I don’t subscribe to that either. Dear Aunt Tessie was a sweet old lady, but she was a bit eccentric. I never put much stock in what she had to say, especially her gibberish about your Scottish lineage and second sight.”

“Well, nonetheless we’re here, and I’m grateful for whatever it was that brought us here. What do you say about having a marker placed by the graveside to commemorate the fulfillment of the promise?”

“I think it a splendid idea. When do your propose we accomplish it?”

“I’d say we should wait until late spring or early summer when the weather is better.”

“Then come May, after the term is over and our paperwork completed, we shall do just that.”

“Indeed we shall,” Charles said as he sipped his drink. “I owe a debt of gratitude to John and Rebecca Jane. Without their choice to marry, I wouldn’t have my Janie. She makes life worth the living.”

“Yes, I quite agree.” Fitzwilliam looked at Charles as he blew a ring of smoke. “I’ve never been happier myself, and a child would be the icing on the cake. If things go as we wish and luck prevails, I hope to have that come next year.”

“Luck has little to do with it. I think you know what to do, don’t you?” Charles winked.

“That I do.” Fitzwilliam laughed.

 

~*~

 

Jane watched Lizzy in quiet amusement as they finished up in the kitchen. She had never seen her sister so happy and content. She had known it all along. Dr. Darcy was just what Lizzy needed. He had been so good for her. Now if her sister would only listen to her about the legend. Jane shook her head and sighed. With a slight smile she put away the final dish and turned to Elizabeth. “Lizzy, I believe we’re finished for now. Let’s collect our husbands and go outside.”

“Yes, let’s, but first I want to show you what Fitzwilliam gave me for my birthday.” Elizabeth left to retrieve her gifts. Retuning, she said, “Look, Jane, aren’t they beautiful?” Elizabeth pulled the book and jewel case from her bag, handing the case to her sister.

“Oh, Lizzy, they are beautiful, and it’s your birthstone! They will look very lovely with that deep purple outfit you never wear. You know, the beautiful silk noil Victorian style suit Grace made for you last fall,” Jane reminded.

Returning the jewel case to Elizabeth, she then took the book and opened it to the title page. “Lizzy this is wonderful! You have been looking for a copy of this work for years. Fitzwilliam must have sent all the way to London for it. I have not seen it for sale in the States for several years, and when I did, it was well over three hundred dollars.”

“Hmm, I never thought of London, but I suppose he must have. I have searched everywhere—even the Internet. I suppose he must have spent a small fortune for it. He never thinks of what something costs—unlike me. As to the jewelry, yes, it will match my purple outfit perfectly. I don’t know why I haven’t worn it more often. I guess I was waiting for my birthday present.” She giggled. “Well, let’s get our things and go. The men are waiting,” Elizabeth said as she retrieved her presents and took them back upstairs.

Recalling her earlier thoughts as Jane watched her sister depart, she breathed deeply. Jane was all but certain that she and Elizabeth were part of the promise. But something loomed on the horizon, and she had not a clue as to what it was. Perhaps it was Liddy. That was another thing that pressed on her—that and the promise. However, Jane knew better than to bring either of them up again with her sister. They had agreed to disagree, and she would leave it at that. She sighed deeply.

 

~*~

 

The girls met their husbands in the hallway where they donned their coats, scarves, winter hats, and gloves. Once outside, Elizabeth and Jane picked up handfuls of snow and began to pelt Fitzwilliam and Charles as they ran, but the men soon caught up with them. They fought for several minutes until Jane and Elizabeth finally fell in a large drift of snow, laughing.

“Enough! You two are too much,” Elizabeth relented, panting for breath. “You’re supposed to let us win. Didn’t they teach you that at your boys’ school?”

“No, I think we missed that one.” Charles laughed, pulling Jane into a hug.

“It was under ‘How to be a gentleman and win your lady,’” Jane said.

Elizabeth got up and dusted herself off. Then she picked up a handful of snow and the fight was on again until both couples collapsed in a mound of white fluff, exhausted and out of breath.

“I truly give up this time. Let’s stop this and make a snow couple,” Jane said.

“Okay,” Elizabeth joined in, “Fitzwilliam, you start by rolling the first ball, and Jane, you go in and bring us what we need.”

Jane scurried into the house. When she returned, the men had already begun in earnest while Elizabeth stood back watching and giving directions. In fact, Charles and Fitzwilliam did all the work while Elizabeth and Jane critiqued. They spent hours laughing and frolicking, making two snow-people—one snowman and one snowwoman. Jane made them complete with carrot noses, scarves, hats, and two buttons for eyes. When finished, both couples stepped back and admired their work.

“So what do you think, Lizzy?”

“Jane, I think they’re wonderful. We did a good job.”

“Oh, who did a good job?” both men said at once.

The girls giggled.

“We all did a good job, but it’s getting colder, and I’m tired. Come, Charles,” Jane said as she reached for her husband’s hand, “let’s go in and have a cup of coffee. How about you two?” Jane called back over her shoulder as she and Charles walked up the steps.

“We’ll be there soon,” Elizabeth returned. “You two go along, and fix another pot of tea. We’ll be in shortly.”

As Jane and Charles entered the house, Fitzwilliam turned to Elizabeth. “Don’t you want to go inside, Liz? You look chilled, love.”

“No, not yet. It’s not often that we get this much snow. This is our second one this season, and it’ll most likely be our last, so I want to enjoy it just a little while longer.”

“Well then, come here. You’re cold. Let me warm you,” Darcy said as he put his face next to hers.

At about that time a car full of college kids slid by, whistling at the couple as they called out, “Dr. Darcy! Carpe diem—seize the day.”

Fitzwilliam glanced up just in time to catch the sight of some of his second term Latin students. Smiling, they gave him a thumbs up. He smiled back and waved as he folded Elizabeth into his arms. He had always gotten along well with his students, but since his marriage, the relationship was even better. He knew he smiled more and was much less reserved than he had been when he first came to the plateau. He sighed in pleasure. His wife definitely had a positive effect on him.

Finally, Elizabeth agreed to going inside to warm up. As they sat together on the loveseat in front of the fire savoring their tea, Fitzwilliam gave thanks for the little things in life, such as a heavy snow in late February and a woman to warm his bed. He heaved a sigh and smiled as Elizabeth’s uncle’s words on their wedding day came to mind …There’s nothing like having a woman to share your bed on a cold winter’s night.