With My Whole Heart Forever Read online

  With My Whole Heart

  Forever

  Wendi Sotis

  With My Whole Heart Forever

  By Wendi Sotis

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced

  in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,

  including information storage and retrieval systems

  —except in the case of brief quotations embodied in

  critical articles or reviews—

  without permission in writing from its publisher and author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book

  are fictitious or are used fictitiously.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

  and not intended by the author.

  First draft was posted serially on BeyondAusten.com

  from October 2019 through February 2020

  With My Whole Heart Forever copyright © 2020 Wendi Sotis

  Cover art by Matthew Sotis

  Includes short passages paraphrased from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813) in the public domain.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  EPILOGUE

  THANK YOU!

  ABOUT WENDI SOTIS

  OTHER BOOKS BY WENDI SOTIS

  ANTHOLOGIES

  CHAPTER 1

  ~ Monday, 15 July 1811 – Longbourn Estate, Hertfordshire

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet spooned soup past her patient’s lips, breathing deeply the perfume of asters, coneflowers, delphinium, and lavender from the bouquet she had hand-picked on the way here, hoping to brighten Mrs. Smith’s depressed mood.

  Elizabeth dabbed at the woman’s chin with a cloth. Poor Mrs. Smith. With one arm broken, the other shoulder sprained, and a substantial lump on her head, the tenant’s wife was barely able to do anything for herself, much less for her family, and guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. Mrs. Smith tried to hide it, but Elizabeth was sure melancholy had set in.

  The Smith children’s laughter drifted in from the courtyard, and Elizabeth could not help but be thankful, for the sound could only cheer her patient.

  A moment later, high-pitched shrieks belonging to Elizabeth’s youngest sisters obscured the pleasant chorus, grating on Elizabeth’s nerves. She hoped the sound did not affect Mrs. Smith in the same way.

  Kitty and Lydia, age seventeen and fifteen respectively, were never willing to admit to the gravity of any situation. Mrs. Smith required assistance and rest. She did not need to be subjected to the never-ending racket of her sisters’ squeals.

  Nevertheless, Elizabeth brought them with her, a practice she had learned from her elder sister, Jane — the angel of the family who was wise beyond her years and just as discreet. Since Kitty and Lydia would do almost anything to avoid doing anything to help inside the house of a Netherfield tenant, if she brought them along, they would remain outdoors and keep the youngest children entertained after their meal. While they did so, Elizabeth could tend to her patient’s needs without interruption.

  Elizabeth fed Mrs. Smith the last few drops from the bowl.

  “Oh, Miss Lizzy, I cennot thank ye and ye sisters enough. Ye always comin’ to the aid of others, even when yer family’s not obliged ta do so.” The woman blinked moisture from her eyes.

  “You are very welcome, Mrs. Smith. You know we would not leave you to fend for yourself. Mr. Jones says you cannot use your hands for another two or three weeks or else your injuries might not heal fully.” Elizabeth rose, walked to the kitchen table, and rested her hand on the basket she brought along with her earlier. “Here is bread and cheese for tomorrow morning. Cook sent enough for Mr. Smith and the older boys to bring along to the fields for tomorrow’s mid-day meal, as well.”

  Mrs. Smith sniffled. “I don’t know what we’d do without your family’s help, and that o’ all our neighbours.”

  All except the owner of Netherfield, who should be taking care of his own tenants. Elizabeth quietly blew out a breath. There was no sense in wasting her energy brooding over the thoughtlessness of their neighbour.

  She shook her head, truthfully adding, “It is a pleasure to be useful.”

  Elizabeth wrapped the bowl in cloth and laid it in the other basket that Jane had left there the previous day. Longbourn’s staff would wash up the contents when Elizabeth brought it home.

  “Call out to Kitty or Lydia if you need anything. I must be going now, but my sisters will remain a while to finish their game with the children. Do not forget, my sister Mary will come after today in my stead. I must prepare to travel north on Wednesday. With your permission, my sisters may bring our small young cousins to play with your children beginning on Thursday.”

  “They’ll be welcome. Enjoy your holiday, Miss Lizzy,” Mrs. Smith said.

  Elizabeth gave the cooking pot filled with the nourishing stew that Longbourn’s staff prepared for the Smith family a hearty stir and then hooked the handle of yesterday’s basket over her arm to take with her. “I pray you will heal quickly, Mrs. Smith.”

  A few minutes later, at the property-line dividing her father’s estate from that of Netherfield Park, Elizabeth climbed to the peak of Oakham Mount. From here, she could see much of her family’s grounds. Even though Longbourn House was two miles away, she could spy the smoke from its chimneys. In the opposite direction was Netherfield’s grand manor, a beautiful example of Palladian architecture, which stood about a mile from the Mount.

  As Oakham Mount was her favourite place to rest during her daily walks, Elizabeth had often stood here, thinking it a shame for such a beautiful home to lay vacant for the past five years, ever since the former owner had passed on.

  No one in the area had ever seen the current owner.

  Elizabeth’s Uncle Phillips was the local attorney tasked with corresponding with the London attorneys who represented Netherfield’s owner whenever the need arose. Uncle Phillips had informed the residents of the area, by way of his wife, whose preferred amusement was the passing on of gossip, that the estate was now owned by a gentleman who, when he was not at his larger estate, was busy in London, and had no time for the more recently inherited Netherfield.

  However, when the steward came around after every harvest to collect the rents, his disagreeable attitude prompted a new wave of gossip to circulate. The most popular excuse for the owner’s absence was that the county of Hertfordshire was not good enough for a family of the upper ten thousand to set foot in themselves.

  Whether or not the owner of Netherfield Park was truly too snobbish to come to Hertfordshire, Elizabeth could not excuse the man for ignoring his tenants’ needs.

  The steward made it plain that the owner refused to reinvest any of the farms’ profits into improving the tenant houses, nor would he release
any of the tenants from their leases, though they were eagerly awaiting the expiration of their contracts so that they could move on. All replies to Uncle Phillips’s letters to the London attorneys stated the owner would authorize repairs to be made, but the funds to do so were never made available.

  The previous autumn, Elizabeth’s father cleverly visited the Smith’s house the day the steward arrived in the area, and he waited many hours before the disagreeable man came to collect the rent. Mr. Bennet then took the man for a tour of the cottage, pointing out all the repairs that were needed, including a roof which had been patched up so often, there was little of the original left to be seen.

  Unfortunately, the steward hired a man to replace the roof who was not experienced in such renovations. His errors led to the roof’s collapse, which was the cause of poor Mrs. Smith’s current state. It was a miracle none of the children were injured, as well.

  The other landowners in the parish pooled their resources and repaired the damages, but they rightly expected to be reimbursed. However, all pleas went unheeded. The gentleman had not been heard from since.

  Elizabeth could only pray the owner of Netherfield Park would soon pass the property on to the next in line to inherit or sell it to someone who would not dismiss their responsibility, nor the beauty, of this place as easily as the current landlord.

  A whiff of sweet honeysuckle pushed all unpleasant thoughts from Elizabeth’s mind. Purposely looking away from her neighbour’s house, she turned in a slow circle, drinking in the landscape of her beloved Hertfordshire.

  While on holiday, she would miss these familiar surroundings, but the way her Aunt Madeline boasted of the beauty and grandeur of Derbyshire, where her aunt had spent her youth, Elizabeth greatly anticipated the upcoming journey through that county. Their final destination was the highly praised Lake District. On their return trip, they would stay at the inn at the village near the tenant farm where she grew up, and her sister currently resided with her family.

  At the same time, she recollected how sorely she had missed her family during her visit to her friend Charlotte’s new home in Kent last month. She could not help but wonder if she would have similar nostalgic longings during this trip.

  Time would tell.

  Elizabeth glanced at the position of the sun and sighed in resignation. She should return home to begin packing.

  Tomorrow would be quite busy, then the following morning, the Gardiner family would arrive at Longbourn. As soon as the horses were rested, the three adults would be on their way, leaving the Gardiners’ children behind in the Bennet family’s care.

  At least the trip to the Lake District promised more amusement than the previous one to Kent.

  The following morning, as Mrs. Hill took her bonnet and spencer, the housekeeper gestured towards the table in the entryway. “There’s a letter for you, miss.” Mrs. Hill curtsied and left her.

  Elizabeth retrieved the missive.

  “Ah, Lizzy.” Her father’s voice came from behind her.

  Elizabeth turned. “Papa.” She moved onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I was taking a last look around before my trip.”

  “Good, good.” Her father cleared his throat. “But I was thinking, are you certain you would like to travel again so soon and not remain home instead? I have done without your conversation for far too long while you were in Kent, and there is nobody else in the area who plays chess nearly as well as you do.”

  “I will miss you as well, Papa, but you know how I like an adventure.”

  “You have been so busy with the Smiths, we have not had much time to visit since your return. And yet, you would prefer a daily dose of rocks and trees to your eccentric father’s company, would you?”

  “Papa! I would not—” The twinkle in his eye told her he was teasing her. She chuckled. “Think of this trip as a reward for my having to put up with Mr. Collins first here, twice last winter, and then at Hunsford for several weeks in the spring.”

  Her father widened his eyes and glanced up the stairs.

  Yes, she had spoken too loudly. Any time her mother heard the name “Collins,” she had one of her nervous fits. Last winter, her mother had hoped one of her own daughters would marry their cousin, but in the end, it had been Elizabeth’s good friend Charlotte Lucas who had accepted the clergyman’s proposal.

  Her father gestured for her to follow him into his study. Elizabeth took her usual seat before his desk. He closed the door and settled into his chair.

  “You have a letter?”

  “It is from Charlotte.”

  He shook his head. “Ladies’ habits are so different from those of men. Had I just returned from a visit to one of my friends, I would not expect a letter from him for six months, at least. Meanwhile, you have just spent every day of the past eight weeks with Charlotte, and now you receive a letter from her the moment you return home.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “I have been home for a fortnight, Papa.”

  “Still, what could Mrs. Collins have to say to you so soon?”

  “Now that I have become acquainted with all the people she comes into contact with daily, I am certain there is a great deal more for her to say than ever before. I accompanied her on visits to the parishioners, and she knows I should like to hear how they are.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You made the rounds with her, did you?”

  She nodded. “Charlotte is always a pleasant companion.”

  “Are you certain you were not also avoiding her husband’s company?”

  “I did much rather take a walk about the grounds or go along with Charlotte on her visits than to spend the day with my cousin. After he had finished showing off every aspect of Hunsford Cottage, his favourite subject of conversation alternated between the numerous and excellent virtues of his benefactor, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and a thorough inventory of my own shortcomings.”

  Her father’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “May I remind you that he greatly approved of you until you rejected his suit, Lizzy? Even if he was a sensible man, from what you have told me of his patroness, I fear you would have had an unhappy life if I had listened to your mother and made you marry him.”

  “Again, I thank you for refusing permission, Papa. I am delighted I am not in Charlotte’s place, even though it does mean she will someday become mistress of Longbourn.”

  “Does Mrs. Collins enjoy being at the beck and call of the great Lady Catherine’s attention as does as her husband?”

  “Charlotte is a saint, in my opinion. Though I choose to believe Lady Catherine means to be helpful whenever she insists her way is better than everyone else’s, I would not have been able to hold my tongue the way Charlotte does.”

  Her father chuckled. “I do not doubt it.”

  “Honestly,” Elizabeth continued, “it is my opinion that her ladyship’s interference in others’ lives is her way of amusing herself. Her daughter is too ill for them to often journey into Town, so she has little else to do other than insert herself into the lives of others.” Elizabeth sighed. “As you have surmised, whenever Lady Catherine was present, both Charlotte and Mr. Collins were required to wait upon her.”

  “I would like to have seen how meek little Maria Lucas behaved in such a setting.”

  “Maria was so frightened of the ostentatious grandeur of Rosings Park — and her ladyship — that she did not open her mouth once during any of our visits. If not for Colonel Fitzwilliam’s presence, I am certain I would not have been able to endure so many calls to the great house.”

  “Remind me, my dear, who is Colonel Fitzwilliam? Lady Catherine’s son?”

  “Goodness, no! He was such a pleasant gentleman, at times, it was difficult to remember he was related to her at all. The colonel is her ladyship’s nephew — the son of Lady Catherine’s brother, the current Earl of Matlock. The colonel and I were quite happy to entertain each other on several occasions. Apparently, her other nephew was scheduled to visit at Easter as well, but he had some pressing
matter come up suddenly and was not to arrive until after I left. I believe his name was Mr. Darcy.”

  Her father suddenly sat upright in his chair.

  “Are you unwell, Papa?”

  “I am well, child; worry not. It is just that Darcy is the name of the man who owns Netherfield. I wonder if he is the same.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “It could be. From what Lady Catherine said of him, I did not feel the least bit deprived by his absence. He sounded as if he were a male version of his aunt and nothing like his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  Her father leaned back in his chair again and steepled his fingers over his middle. “You seem quite taken with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Lizzy. Should I expect him to call upon me?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “We are friendly acquaintances, sir, and that is all. He is a second son.”

  “Ah! Second son of an earl… accustomed to the style of living of his father but without the expectations of an inheritance.”

  “I believe you are correct. The colonel was careful to mention it — in an off-handed way, of course. I expect he must marry a fortune.”

  Her father nodded.

  She was sure Lady Catherine learned the size of her dowry from Mr. Collins before she arrived and warned the colonel away from her, but she did not want to say this aloud, especially not to her father.

  Her father said, “My ridiculous cousin and his benefactor seem made for one another.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “And I expect Charlotte will never be bored. There is always something to occupy her, though I do feel sorry that her husband expects her to follow every single one of Lady Catherine’s edicts, whether or not Charlotte agrees.”

  Her mother’s muffled voice could be heard through the door. “Lizzy! Oh, where is that girl?”

  Elizabeth started to rise from her chair, but her father put out his hand.

  “Stay. Let your mother wait. It is good for her.”

  Elizabeth resettled into her chair and blew out a quiet breath. After twenty-three years of marriage, her father should know that her mother’s agitation would double in intensity every minute she was kept waiting, and therefore, making her wait was not beneficial for anyone. It was not the first time she suspected he prevented her from going to her mother on purpose to rile her up.