Chapter 1 * A Promise in Time
Chapter 1
May 15, 1904
William Darcy descended the ladder as the first few drops of rain began to fall. He had, luckily, just finished installing the final window in his new home. He turned to tell his hired man to head home before the weather worsened when his attention was arrested by the sound of a deafening roar. William turned his gaze skyward and watched in stunned disbelief as a monstrous funnel cloud dropped down a half of a mile north of where he stood. Terror clutched his heart in an icy grasp.
"No! Lizzy!" William shouted. His fiancé had left a half of an hour earlier to walk her favorite path on the prairies north of town.
William bolted to the stable and mounted his horse, not bothering to saddle it. He raced through the pelting rain toward Lizzy's father's home, hoping against hope that she was safely there, taking shelter. The mile-long ride seemed interminable. When he finally arrived in front of Lizzy's house, William quickly dismounted his horse, knowing that the well-trained animal would stand and wait for him or seek shelter if there were any danger. He pounded on the door. When he didn't receive an answer, he pushed it open and stepped inside. "Mr. Bennet!" William's deep voice called.
"William!" Mr. Bennet answered. The wiry, gray-haired man appeared at the top of the cellar stairs, wearing a panicked expression. "Is Elizabeth with you, William?" the older man asked, his voice frantic.
The wave of fear caused by Mr. Bennet's reply hit William like a punch to the gut. "No," he answered hoarsely, "No she is not." Guilt and fear washed over him, and he briefly closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotion and raised a hand to his forehead. For a moment, the floor seemed to shake beneath his feet and it felt as if the room – the whole world - were collapsing around him. When he opened his eyes, however, William saw that the four walls of the house still stood, and that complete silence had taken the place of the ferocious roar of the storm outside. He couldn't fight off the feeling of dread that overtook him, nor could he prevent the thought that followed - that the collapse he had obviously imagined may very well have been the once-sturdy walls of the life he had planned, collapsing around him in ruin.
William shook his head to dislodge the unsettling thought and quickly strode toward the door. "Lizzy went for a walk. She wanted to watch the storm. I was too busy with the house and couldn't go with her. I asked her not to go far, to keep an eye on the weather and to be careful. It's my fault she went alone! We must search for her! She could be injured or worse," he nearly shouted. When he didn't immediately hear a response, William turned to see Lizzy's father still standing at the top of the stairs, stunned.
Mr. Bennet swallowed visibly as he nodded his head and spoke slowly, "I'll round up some help and form a search party."
William nodded, and hurriedly left the house. He quickly mounted his horse and rode off to search for Lizzy.
May 15, 1905, one year later…
William sat down heavily on the cool, stone bench beneath the enormous cottonwood tree and leaned, exhausted against the massive trunk. He ran his hand through his dark hair, letting the incessant wind of the South Dakota prairie cool him. It was unseasonably warm for May, near one hundred degrees. He had walked the mile and a half from his home near the center of town in the afternoon heat to the prairie cemetery on the outskirts, choosing to forgo the use of his horse or carriage for the therapeutic effect of a long, solitary walk. He stared at the smooth, gray marble of the rounded stone in front of him and focused his eyes on the carved letters that formed the name of the only woman he had ever loved, shaded under the cottonwood trees she had adored.
As owner and president of his own bank, William normally kept strict hours at work, but on this day, the one-year anniversary of the tragedy that had changed his life, he had found it impossible to keep his attention focused on the work before him. He had left at noon and gone home to quickly change clothes, informing his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, that he would return before dinner. William's goal today was to attempt to put to rest the events of the past four years, and hopefully, if possible, move on with his life.
Impossible as that felt, it was what Elizabeth would have wanted. In fact, he was fairly certain that she would have been exceedingly annoyed with him if she could have seen the way he had been living during the past year. Only voluntarily leaving the house to go to work, foregoing most social invitations, and going for long, solitary walks, dwelling, miserably, on what could have been, what should have been for them. William slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cradled his forehead in his hands.
His mind wandered back in time to the conversation that had been the impetus for his move west. He would never forget the day, four years ago, when he had approached his father about moving west, and starting a new life. He had been bored with life in Boston; he loathed the social obligations that had plagued him there and had wished for a life of more substance. He dreaded the thought of being shackled to a social climber who would not truly love or want him; only his money. Aside from being the only son of an old and prominent Beacon Hill family, he was independently wealthy. Upon his mother's death, six years prior to this particular conversation with his father, William had been left the entirety of her inheritance to do with as he saw fit. When in the care of William's careful and brilliant financial mind, the inheritance had increased threefold in that time and promised to continue to do so.
Upon hearing William's unexpected request to move away from his family home, his father had looked at him thoughtfully for several moments before he told William that he would have his decision by the next morning. William had inclined his head respectfully, turned, and left his father's study. His father's approval notwithstanding, William fully intended to go west. From what he had read and heard in tales from those who had traveled there, it was a land rich with opportunity, beauty, and promise.
After graduating from Harvard University, the year before his mother's death, William had begun working at the bank where he'd held the position of vice president. He had loved his work, and he was good at it. It had taken him a mere seven years to advance from loan officer to the more prestigious position at the bank. His plan was to open his own financial institution, far away from the busy streets and scheming socialites of the city he hated, and to settle under the vast skies and endless, beautiful prairies of the Midwest.
The next morning, William had been surprised by his father's decision. Although the longtime widower was sorry to see his only son move so far away, his father had been proud of the courage and independence of spirit it had taken to even consider such an endeavor. His father, therefore, agreed to not only give William's plans his blessing but to provide the funds for his son to establish a bank at a location of William's choice.
After arriving in Yankton, South Dakota, William had taken the short line rail to Loring and settled and built his bank in the quintessential, small Midwestern town of Brighton, ten miles away. It was also during his first year in Brighton that he met the beautiful Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Her beautiful, softly curved figure, sparkling green eyes, and chestnut hair had caught his attention, but it was her brilliant mind and loving heart that had held it.
Within a month of knowing her, he had, for the first time in his life, fallen in love. A year later, she had made him happier than he ever could have imagined by agreeing to become his wife. That year and the two years that followed had been perfect. Every moment not spent at the bank had been spent either with Lizzy, as he called her, or, when not with her, working to build a home for her.
They had loved walking, hand in hand through the tall, golden grasses of the beautiful, windblown prairies, discussing their future or finding shade beneath the giant cottonwood trees; those giants of the prairies which thrived along creeks and rivers, standing as symbols of fortitude and defiance of circumstance, that Lizzy had held a fascination and love for. When not with her, he worked diligently on their future home.
They had planned to marry after he completed building their home – a beautiful, sprawling, three-story Victorian house. He built it facing the east so that the multitude of beveled, leaded glass windows would catch the morning sunlight and cast dozens of tiny rainbows on the walls and floors. He remembered picturing how delighted Lizzy would be to see the rainbows she loved when she awoke to her first morning as his wife in the home he had built for her with his own hands.
And love them she did; when storms rolled across the prairies, Lizzy would excitedly watch the sky for a glimpse of the beautiful, frequent rainbows. Having been born and raised back east, William was slightly wary of his fiancé's love for the violent weather that seemed to plague the prairies during the months of April through September. However, he quickly learned that a person could get used to anything. Even agony.
It was during one such storm, a year ago, that his life had turned into a dark void, resembling the bleak and scarred landscape that the twisters were known to leave in their wake. William had planned to meet Lizzy for a walk that Sunday afternoon. He, however, along with a hired man who was assisting with the heavier aspects of building the house, had been in the middle of installing the final window, a large one on the north staircase landing. It was proving to be particularly difficult to finish. When William had seen Lizzy walking toward the building site, he made sure that the worker assisting him had a firm grip on the window before he quickly descended the ladder to regretfully inform her that he would be unable to join her for their planned walk that afternoon. He needed to finish installing the window before the rain in the overcast skies began to fall.
Lizzy had looked into his eyes, and with a teasing half-smile, stood on her tip-toes to lightly kiss the deeply-etched frown on his lips. Breaking into a wide grin, William had held her there, close to him for a moment.
She pulled away slightly to look up at the house, their future home, her arms still clasped around his waist. "It is beautiful, William, nearly finished," Lizzy said with a bright smile. "It's perfect…just like you." She looked back up at him and placed her right hand over his heart and moved her left up to gently trace the line of his jaw. "And I can't wait to begin our life together. I love you, with all my heart and I promise that I will, always, no matter what difficulties may come."
William had looked deeply into Lizzy's eyes then, as a sense of foreboding crept into his heart, a feeling which he had quickly dismissed as a ridiculous fancy. "I love you, too, Lizzy," William replied, slowly tracing a line with the backs of his fingers from her waist, over her ribs and shoulder to caress the soft skin of her cheek before tucking a wind-blown, chestnut curl behind her ear. "I always will. And, after we are married, I promise you that we will always be together. I only regret that we cannot at this moment, but unfortunately, it looks like rain and I still have to finish the window," he grimaced.
With one final, quick kiss, Lizzy pulled away with a smile. "Don't worry, William. I'll go alone, and I'll stay close to home. After all, it looks like we could have a dandy of a storm this afternoon, and I wouldn't want to miss that, now would I?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Lizzy!" William called as she turned to walk away. Lizzy turned to face him, one hand shading her eyes. "Be careful, Lizzy. I love you."
"Always", she had replied with a soft smile as she turned once again to walk away.
That had been the last time that William had seen Lizzy alive.
A half of an hour later, on that terrible afternoon, a powerful tornado hit without warning, missing the small town by a mere quarter of a mile, and destroying everything in its path. It had later been discovered that Elizabeth Bennet had been out walking on the edge of the prairie north of town, over her and William's favorite path when the storm had hit. Lizzy had attempted to take shelter in a dry creek bed beneath a cottonwood tree, the lowest point she could find, but the giant tree had been no match for the tornado, and it had fallen, crushing her beneath it.
William jerked upright, pulling himself back into the present and out of the black abyss that had been the past year of his life. He quickly wiped a few embarrassing tears from his eyes and rose from the bench. He walked slowly forward and placed his hand on the cold marble of the gravestone, the only physical link remaining to the woman he loved, would ever truly love, and gazed with bleary eyes at the engraving found there. It read, "Elizabeth Rose Bennet, you will be loved forever across time, July 1, 1880 – May 15, 1904."
"My Lizzy", William said, in a soft voice, "I promise that I will love you, for the rest of my life, forever across time, however much time is allotted me. I feel that it is my fault; that if I had been with you, if I had spent the afternoon with you as I promised, that you would still be alive, filling my world with your bright smile and love. Please, please forgive me for failing you, Lizzy. I wish, with all my heart that I could somehow, still be with you as I promised, to share a life with you. I love you, and I promise that I will do the best I can to live the life you would want me to live." William paused to clear his emotion-choked throat before continuing. "Until we meet again, love, goodbye." He gripped the headstone one last time in a loving gesture, and quickly turned and walked away from the cemetery on top of the hill.
When he reached home, William pushed open the heavy oak and leaded glass door of the rear entrance. He could smell the delicious aroma of Mrs. Reynolds' cooking as he walked through the kitchen hallway and into the parlor. He leaned heavily against the mantle of the massive, ornate central fireplace, and gazed into its cold grate, thinking of the hopes and dreams he had had when he had laid the bricks for it. He had imagined holding Lizzy, nestled securely in his arms on the hearth rug in front of it, talking, laughing, and staying warm together while watching the winter snows fall. Foolish dreams, all, he now realized.
William rested his forehead against his clenched fist, and with the agony of a broken heart in his voice, fervently whispered, "Dear Lord, if only I had a second chance. I loved her so much and still do. It has been a year and my heart refuses to heal. No matter how hard I try to forget, my love for her will not fade. The pain only grows stronger with each passing month. I promised to love her across time, and I ask for Your help to fulfill that one promise remaining to me unconditionally, by living the full life Lizzy wanted for me and honoring our love for each other, even if it means living out the rest of my days alone. Please, Lord, help me and give me the strength to do so."
As William lifted his head and turned to walk toward the stairs, he was momentarily blinded by a flash of bright light - no doubt the refection of the late afternoon sun through one of the west-facing windows, he reasoned. He stumbled, catching himself with his hand on one of the massive wooden pillars that separated the formal sitting room from the parlor. William shook his head in an attempt to regain his bearings. The heat and emotional turmoil of the day must have been too much for him. Feeling somewhat embarrassed and foolish, he quickly regained his footing and opened his eyes to walk to the sitting room sofa. The sight before him sent a shock through him, momentarily stopping his heart.
OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO
A/N: It's baa-aack! Albeit with some plot changes. I didn't like the way the story was heading and wasn't sure if I wanted to make it a fanfiction story or an original work. I may still turn it into an original piece, but this at least helps me get invaluable feedback, in the meantime!
Due to a crazy work schedule (I have three jobs and three kids), updates may be sporadic, so thanks in advance for your patience. Reviews and criticism are always welcome and greatly appreciated.
P.S.: A note on Victorian style architecture: Although Queen Victoria's reign only extended to 1901, Victorian style architecture encompasses the Edwardian era as well, extending the architecture style time-period to 1910.
P.S.S.: Bonus points for you if visions of Chris Pine, standing in a waterfall while singing the song "Agony" from Into the Woods popped into your mind when you read that particular word in this chapter. Ha XD