"Grief, I've learned, is really love. It's all the love you want to give but cannot give. The more you loved someone, the more you grieve. All of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes and in that part of your chest that gets empty and hollow feeling. The happiness of love turns to sadness when unspent. Grief is just love with no place to go." – Jamie Anderson

This is just the first chapter, for now. I am going to try not to write any more until Close Enough is almost finished (it is only halfway done) but this idea has been going round and round in my head for a while, driving me absolutely insane because it would not let me get back to CE until this chapter was written down.

Love With No Place To Go is the story of Elizabeth Bennet's two great loves. It is E&D HEA, but she meets and marries another man before him. It is set, rather than in the Regency period, in the 1790s, which John Breihan and Clive Caplan's article 'Jane Austen and the Militia' convincingly argues P&P was set. [1] I anticipate this being quite a long story, but as yet I cannot estimate how long it will be. I will include footnotes, but these will mostly be about the military situation during the story and historical notes, so don't read if you are not interested.

Hope you enjoy – let me know what you think x

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Monday 12th November 1792

It was a blustery November in London, and Miss Elizabeth's hair was facing the consequences. Her thick, dark curls had escaped from the confines of her bonnet and blew wildly across her face. As she tried valiantly to tuck them back in place, her attention was not on the path in front of her, so, as will come as no surprise to anyone, she did not know there was someone walking towards her until she bumped into him.

The man in question had not seen her either, too absorbed as he was in the letter he held in his hand. Their collision was accompanied by an "Umph!" by the gentleman, and a quiet squeak from the young lady. Elizabeth lost her balance and would have fallen to the floor, if the gentleman had not caught her about the shoulders and steadied her. As she regained her balance and took a step backwards, she had a moment to look at the man in front of her. He was not handsome – his hair was a dull sort of mousy brown and his face was uncomfortably arranged, as though his features had been taken apart, then put back together by someone who had not seen the original. He was not exceptionally tall, nor was he exceptionally short, so was not memorable for either.

Nevertheless, his clothes were finely made and flattering to his figure and complexion; his cravat was tied with skill but not with enough flamboyance for Elizabeth to suspect him a dandy or a fop. His countenance was youthful and his eyes were kind, though at present his brows were furrowed and his mouth was twisted worriedly.

"Do not fear, sir, for I am quite alright," Lizzie told him.

"Hmm, what?" the gentleman startled, "Oh, yes, are you quite sure, miss. It would surely be remiss of me not to escort you further, having given you such a dreadful fright." Lizzie laughed at him brightly.

"Have no fear, my kind sir, I am a stout country miss, it takes more than a collision with a preoccupied gentleman to distress me." The gentleman was not satisfied with this answer.

"Let me at least accompany you to the end of the street. In which direction are you heading?"

"Why, in the same direction I was going before I was stopped," she smiled disarmingly. "My Aunt is in a shop just a street over, and I could not help but explore a little. I am quite new to London, you see." The gentleman frowned.

"I can tell, if you wondered away, at least without at least a footman. While not an unsafe area, it would not do for a young lady such as yourself to be unaccompanied on these streets."

"You do bring such gloomy tidings, sir. No wonder you look so miserable, if this is the direction in which your thoughts take you."

"Indeed I am not miserable, merely contemplative."

"Oh!" Elizabeth exclaimed, "you dropped your letter." She hastily bent to retrieve it from where it had been dropped, and as she rose, she read aloud, "Col. R. Fitwilliam?"

"That is I. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam at your service." He bowed quite elegantly, and his mouth had curled up at the corner.

"There you are, so you can smile," Elizabeth observed. The couple had begun to walk in the direction that Elizabeth had been travelling and the Colonel had just come from.

"In fact, I smile quite frequently, miss," he informed her, "I just received news of some significance which required deep thought."

"Oh, I do hope nothing is wrong," she cried sympathetically.

"Not wrong, quite the opposite – I have been given the orders for an important… errand… I must undertake on the continent."

"France?" The Colonel nodded slowly. "I suspect the declaration of the First Republic has made the lives of military men such as yourself quite… interesting." The gentleman's eyes had flown dramatically up his forehead, and his mouth hung slightly agape. [2]

"You are, that is to say, your suspicions are not wrong." After he did not speak again for several moments, Elizabeth asked,

"Will it be a mission of diplomacy, or perhaps something a little more… covert? Excuse me, I am sure you are not allowed to divulge such details?" Elizabeth was embarrassed that she had let her curiosity push her into the bound of impropriety. "My mama always tells me I should not speak of such things." The Colonel, far from looking disgusted as she had expected, looked intrigued.

"You follow the details of the situation on the Continent? I have not met a lady, let alone one as young as you are, who is able to talk with any knowledge of the circumstances."

"I will excuse you this time, sir, but I am not so young – why, I am closer to eighteen than I am to sixteen." This drew a laugh from the mousy-haired man.

"That is quite young enough, for I was that age a decade ago!"

"That does not make me young, sir, that make you old!" Together they laughed as they continued to the end of the road, and Elizabeth reassured him that she was in sight of the shop her Aunt was patronising, and she was sure he must be on his way. Before he left, however, she boldly placed a hand on his arm.

"Please, sir, as you pointed out, I have some knowledge of the goings-on on the Continent. Keep yourself safe, for I would not like to read your name in the paper as one sacrificed for our country, however noble the cause may be. God's speed." With this, she left him, and did not turn to look behind her as she made her way to her destination. But standing where she had left him, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was frozen in his surprise – the young lady he had run into quite by accident had been captivating, and unlike any other woman he had ever met, and that was only in the short ten minutes of their acquaintance. As he turned to continue on his way, he realised he had never learned her name, but it was too late, for she had already disappeared.

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When Elizabeth returned to her Aunt Gardiner's haberdasher, she found that she had been missed. [3]

"You should not go off by yourself like that Elizabeth," her aunt scolded, "especially not without telling me that you are leaving. You are lucky I was not beside myself when I realised you were gone." Elizabeth was sorry to have worried her aunt, but reassured her that she was perfectly fine.

"I bumped into a very courteous gentleman who was kind enough to escort me back." Mrs Gardiner frowned at her niece.

"You have not been long in London so I may assume that you were not acquainted with him? It is not done, to introduce yourself to men you do not know, on the streets."

"But I knew that, Aunt, which was why I did not introduce myself, and he did not introduce himself either – although I did learn his name – so really, no strict bounds of propriety were breached." Mrs Gardiner gave Elizabeth a stern look, but shook her head and dismissed the matter.

Around the dinner table later that evening, Mr Gardiner and his wife conversed fondly, which Elizabeth mostly ignored in favour of appreciating the delicious food, but her attention was caught when she heard mention of a military hospital which was being built just outside the trading district.

"Their announcement said the hospital was to provide basic healthcare to soldiers quartered in and about London – so apothecaries and physicians do not have to be called out at the officers' expense, no doubt – but I do not see the politicians emptying their pockets for such a thing. No, they are anticipating trouble, to be sure. One has to but listen to the chatter about France to know that they situation on the Continent will soon escalate."

"But who will be caring for the soldiers?" Elizabeth enquired.

"I imagine they will have local ladies in to nurse the men, and I suppose the military will use their own surgeons. I do not really know, Elizabeth." The conversation moved on to other topics, but Elizabeth was left pondering the need for a military hospital – she was worried that the gentleman she met that morning, Col. Fitzwilliam would be in harm's way.

As the month when on and the Christmas season began, Elizabeth forgot all about the hospital, submerged as she was in the festive celebrations. January continued in a similar vein – Mrs Gardiner was determined to introduce her niece to every single one of her acquaintances, it seemed. Nonetheless she continued to read the newspaper after her uncle was finished, to keep herself apprised of the events pertaining the Continent, and was struck by the announcement on the first of February that France had declared war on Great Britain. [4]

This was of significance to her uncle because the majority of his trading was done with Continental Europe, so for several days he was sequestered away in the offices at his warehouses formulating a plan to keep his business going. Mrs Gardiner continued as usual, resolved not to let the news affect her daily life until necessary – for the most part, society was unmoved by the news. The war was seen to be far away, across the channel, and the few ladies who knew any details of the matter – many had no knowledge of current affairs – had little interest in discussing it.

Elizabeth was not so unmoved. Though there were few British troops on the Continent and there had been no news of any casualties, Elizabeth knew that this would soon change. She applied to her Aunt to be allowed to visit the women who were involved in the hospital, to volunteer her help. At first, Mrs Gardiner refused outright.

"That sort of environment is not place for a young maiden, Elizabeth, and your Uncle and I would be remiss in our duty as your guardians during your visit here if we let you do such a thing."

"But had nursed the tenants at Longbourn when they are sick, and I once had to help the apothecary set our groom's dislocated shoulder," Elizabeth argued.

"That is not the same as tending wounded soldiers. The sort of language and environment it would expose you to is not acceptable and I cannot let you do it. On this I am firm."

Despite Mrs Gardiner's firm stance, Elizabeth continued to badger and wheedle her, presenting rational arguments that the men who are willing to sacrifice themselves of the country must have women to care for them when they are hurt, until the elder lady eventually capitulated out of sheer frustration.

"At least it will keep you occupied for the rest of your stay, I suppose. But you must take care not to expose yourself to sights which may take your innocence. Your reputation is the most precious thing you have, Elizabeth, be sure to keep it pristine."

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Monday 4th March 1793

The hospital was a large stone building. It had once been something else, but Elizabeth was not sure what. The windows were tall and square; the walls were sturdy and whitewashed. Each room had several low beds with metal frames. There was a table between every two beds, which was piled with sheets and blankets.

"This is a voluntary hospital, so most of the things have been donated," one of the nurses told her. "We will give an apron, but I would advise you not to wear your finest clothes, Miss Bennet. There can sometimes be a bit of a mess."

Elizabeth found out that as the English had only recently come to be at war with France, they had not received many injured men from the continent, but they had been treating some of the men who were quartered near London. Elizabeth's first patient was a young man of eighteen or nineteen who had had his foot shot in a training accident, which was not a bad wound, but the foot had become infected and he was moved to the hospital to have it amputated from below the knee.

"The surgery was successful," the sister told her, "and he has been recuperating for the last week, but it will be your job to tend to him, and to see if you can get him moving a little."

Elizabeth has thrown herself into the task with the zeal of a country gentlewoman and all the delicacy of a farmer's daughter. She quickly won over her patients with her shocking wit – she was not afraid to use language too coarse for her station in an attempt to make a connection with the injured young man. She was sorry to disobey her Aunt in such a manner, but when the soldier consented to being moved to a wheeled chair for the first time since his operation, Elizabeth could not mind her loss of delicacy.

Though she continued to behave with the epitome of propriety around the other nurses, she found that by developing a sense of camaraderie with the soldiers, she was able to encourage them to get out of the sick bed and start preparing themselves to get back to their lives. During her second week volunteering, she brought in a board she had made for bubble-the-justice, which the three men in the room she oversaw were delighted with. [5] They spend a jolly afternoon playing, with Elizabeth having bought a bag of boiled sweets to give to the winner, and everyone felt much better for having had an enjoyable time.

Within weeks of her volunteering at the hospital, Elizabeth was a firm favourite with the men – she was certainly not the most skilled or knowledgeable of the volunteer nurses, but she was one of the most well liked. Her talent for cheering up even the interminably unhappy reached the more senior sisters of the convent, so when a miserable soldier was brought in from France, having been triaged and treated on the Continent and on the ship, Elizabeth was assigned to his care. When she entered the room in which he had been placed, she recognised him immediately.

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam!"

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[1] Have a search online for 'Jane Austen and the Milita' - it is the essay on the Jane Austen Society for North America's website (I tried to put a link but it didn't work).

[2] The First Republic, which was officially called the French Republic (République Française) was founded 21st September 1792, during the French revolution. It lasted until 1804, when the First Empire, under Napoleon, was declared – although the form of the government changed several times during this period.

[3] In Britain, a haberdasher is a shop that sell little things for sewing like buttons, needles, ribbons etc. not a men's outfitter, as it is in America.

[4] In 1791/2 the monarchies of Europe watched with outrage as a revolution began in France, which threatened to change the way the world worked. To being with, the Allied forces which formed to combat the French was mostly Prussian and Austrian, then in January 1793 Portugal and Spain joined the anti-French coalition. Britain began military preparations in late 1792, and they declared that war was inevitable unless France gave up the land it had conquered through skirmishes on the Germanic and Sardinian fronts. Britain expelled the French ambassador following the execution of Louis XVI, and on 1st February France responded by declaring war on Great Britain (as well as the Dutch Republic).

[5] Bubble the justice was an 18th century version of a much earlier game called 'nine holes' in which players would take turns bowling a metal ball along a wooden board with nine numbered holes or 'pockets' drilled into it. The aim was either to land your ball in each hole in numerical order, or to simply to score as many points as possible. It was renamed bubble the justice as this was one of only a few games not outlawed in a clampdown on games in London taverns in the late 1700s.