Chapter 13 #3
The first six years of their marriage were filled with happiness.
Their love for one another never diminished, and Rosita never regretted leaving everything behind to become James's wife.
Their happiness only increased with the births of Carmen and, later, Matthew.
When the Marqués de la Pena learned that his daughter had a son, everything changed.
He first offered James and Rosita land, money, and every imaginable advantage in exchange for custody of the little boy.
He wanted Matthew to become his heir.
James and Rosita refused without hesitation. They told the Marquis that they would never surrender their son.
When persuasion failed, the Marquis resorted to force.
When Matthew was six years old, the Marquis had him abducted and kept him under his control for nearly eight months.
Only after a long and bitter legal battle was James able to recover his son.
The experience left a deep mark upon Matthew.
One day he had been living peacefully with his loving parents and beloved sister; the next, he found himself surrounded by strangers who forced him to learn lessons he neither understood nor wanted and punished him whenever he spoke English.
Fortunately, once James and Rosita brought him home again, they patiently healed his wounded spirit with unwavering love and kindness.
Realising that their son would never be safe while they remained within the Marquis's reach, James and Rosita decided to settle permanently in England.
The beginning was not easy. James had to rebuild his career from nothing.
Thanks to his talent, hard work, and the support of a few loyal friends, he eventually prospered and was able to provide his family with every comfort.
“I hope you will leave us in peace, Marqués de la Pena,’ Matthew murmured in his sleep. ‘I never wish to see you again.’
Gradually his breathing steadied.
Thinking of Jane, he finally drifted back into a peaceful sleep.
◆◆◆
Elizabeth could not understand why Mr Darcy had asked her to dance if he intended to spend the entire set looking at her with quiet disapproval and saying almost nothing.
This time, she had no intention of forcing a conversation, as she had done at Netherfield. If he preferred silence, she would respect it.
Much as she disliked the gentleman before her, she could not deny that he looked remarkably handsome that evening.
Unfortunately, he was also unbearably proud, and no amount of good looks could ever persuade her to admire such a man.
Mr Darcy, meanwhile, found it impossible to look anywhere but at Elizabeth.
He wondered what occupied her thoughts.
He hoped she would challenge him as she invariably did.
He had come to expect her spirited challenges... and found, to his annoyance, that he missed them when they did not come.
At last, unable to endure the silence any longer, he said, "Miss Elizabeth, you are unusually quiet this evening."
"You are unusually quiet as well, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth replied.
Even as she spoke, her attention remained fixed elsewhere. She had noticed General Sinclair watching her Aunt Eleanor as she danced with a young officer.
"I am always reserved, Miss Elizabeth," Mr Darcy answered, the faintest smile touching his lips.
Elizabeth returned the smile absent-mindedly. Her thoughts remained entirely occupied by her aunt.
Realising that she was scarcely listening to him, Mr Darcy allowed the silence to return and spent the remainder of the set simply watching her.
"Are you enjoying the dance, Aunt Eleanor?" Christian asked.
He had noticed that Lady Campbell seemed unusually distracted and hoped conversation might put her more at ease. Though they had met only a few months before, he had grown genuinely fond of her.
"Very much, my dear," Eleanor replied. "I confess, however, that I am rather overwhelmed by having met so many new people this evening."
After a brief pause, she ventured, "Christian, do you happen to know the general who danced with my niece?"
"Was that beautiful young lady your niece?" Christian asked with surprise. "I had no idea. I must compliment you, Aunt. You have remarkably beautiful nieces."
He smiled before continuing.
"When I saw General Sinclair standing up with her, I confess I understood why even he could not resist asking such a lovely young lady to dance."
"Her name is Elizabeth," Eleanor said. "After this set, I shall introduce you to her and to my other nieces."
She hesitated before adding as casually as she could, "Your mother introduced me to the general earlier, but I am afraid I paid very little attention. I now feel rather embarrassed, as I suspect he is someone of consequence."
Christian laughed softly.
"He is indeed. General Sinclair is one of the most distinguished officers in the Army. He is a war hero and has been decorated many times for his courage and service. Every young officer hopes to follow his example."
"His family must be very proud of him."
"I am certain they are. Although he has never married and has no children of his own, I do not doubt that his brother, Lord Rockwell, together with his nephew and niece, are immensely proud of him."
An almost imperceptible breath of relief escaped Eleanor.
Marcus had never married.
Yet the discovery only raised another question. Why had a man so handsome, honourable, and successful remained alone all these years?
As the figures of the dance brought them briefly opposite one another, Eleanor found herself looking directly at Marcus.
He was standing near the edge of the ballroom with a lady beside him, yet his eyes never left hers.
Unable to help herself, Eleanor met his gaze.
To her astonishment, she felt herself blush exactly as she had more than twenty years before.
But something had changed.
Once, Marcus's eyes had sparkled with warmth, laughter, and hope.
Now they seemed shadowed by years of sorrow.
Her heart ached for him.
What had become of the cheerful young man she had loved?
When the set came to an end, Eleanor and Christian made their way towards Elizabeth.
"Mr Darcy, thank you for the dance..."
"I hope you continue to enjoy the ball, Miss Elizabeth."
Mr Darcy intended to seek out his uncle and remain in his company for the rest of the evening. Lord Matlock had never cared for dancing and would make agreeable company.
He was just about to take his leave when Lady Campbell approached.
"Elizabeth, Mr Darcy," she said warmly. "My dear, allow me to introduce my nephew, Viscount Blackwood."
"It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth," Christian said, bowing. "Aunt Eleanor has spoken so highly of her nieces that I have been looking forward to meeting you and your sisters."
Turning to Darcy, he smiled.
"Darcy, how do you do?"
"Lord Blackwood. Lady Campbell."
After exchanging the customary greetings, Mr Darcy excused himself.
Unfortunately, as he walked away, he could not help overhearing Lord Blackwood ask Elizabeth to stand up with him for the next set.
Her ready acceptance did nothing to improve his spirits.
Elizabeth liked her aunt's nephew immediately.
He was good-humoured, easy to talk to, and possessed a natural wit that made conversation flow effortlessly.
They had been chatting pleasantly for several minutes before a deep voice interrupted them.
"Good evening, Lord Blackwood. Miss Bennet."
Marcus bowed politely before turning towards Eleanor.
"Lady Campbell, would you do me the honour of standing up with me for this set?"
Eleanor felt the colour drain from her face.
"With pleasure... General Sinclair."
As the musicians struck the opening notes, Marcus offered her his arm.
After the briefest hesitation, Eleanor placed her hand upon it, and together they walked towards the dance floor.