Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation

by Massey, Beth

  “Cuz, how was Georgiana almost caught? A charming man like Edmund can get another woman’s help with his scheme… just as Wickham persuaded Mrs Younge… who you had hired, by the way.”

  Darcy’s look was growing more and more troubled. “What more do you know of this gentleman’s daughter?”

  One look at the horror on his cousin’s face, and Richard realized this was at the heart of his reason for questioning him about Edmund. “Not much, but I think she was the one I have heard chatter about. Edmund’s friends were once laughing about how much he enjoyed telling the story of the young woman who had helped with her buttons, and how fearful she had been for her sisters’ reputations. Even then—before I experienced Spain, all I could see in my imagination was a petrified child clinging to any hope—much like that whimpering foxhound pup we rescued as children”

  Darcy was having difficulty breathing as he squeaked out, “Are you saying you believe he raped her? But I had no idea a man from the highest circle would stoop so low. I thought only brutes from the lower classes took women by force.”

  Richard gave his cousin a look of intense scorn. “Darce, you sound so arrogant… uh and naive and possibly a bit witless. Do your tenants make a habit of raping women? Are wellborn rakes more acceptable to you?” His scorn softened and he could only shake his head in exasperation. “Charming some young woman with promises of marriage they have no intention of keeping is a cruel deception. Or do you reserve your animosity for a steward’s son like Wickham—who promises love but is really only interested in collecting a wealthy young woman’s dowry?”

  The Colonel’s voice became a sneer. “That and an heir is all Edmund wanted from Eleanor—and he has even told her so.” He suddenly turned away from his cousin to view the passing countryside. A few seconds later he continued. “I struggle to see the difference between those lowly brutes you envision and elegant charming men who take as they please. But, you are correct about what happened to the young woman I heard about. Rape is what I would call what she endured.”

  Darcy became aware that the affable Richard was suffering his own anguish. “Why did Eleanor agree to marry Edmund?”

  The Colonel’s voice dripped with cynicism as he replied, “He, as you said, prettily talked her down in order to win her fifty thousand pounds.”

  “Do you love Eleanor?”

  “I do, and I did long before my brother ‘teased her and pleased her’ into believing he was offering her undying love. I was away training troops, when I learned that Eleanor and Edmund had become betrothed. Just a few months before, she had seemed to be expecting and wanting me to propose. We had spoken of our mutual affection and admiration quite openly, and my brother knew of my intentions. Edmund’s treachery and Eleanor’s betrayal was the most crushing defeat I have ever experienced. I raged at them for months.”

  “But, why do you still love her?”

  “After the raging was over, reflection replaced that emotion. I had depended on her constancy despite my precarious lot in life. Though the blow of her turning to the prestige of Edmund was a severe one, I believed I should try to forgive. She was now my sister. Had her marriage been a happy one, a few years might have reconciled me to my loss. My affection for her had been genuine—it was never just about her large dowry.”

  Richard reflected back to that time more than six years past. “My duties kept me from having to attend their wedding. By the time I saw her again, regret was already etched into Eleanor’s face.” Richard turned to look out the window again as he continued his explanation. “I could not help but remember the warmth of her heart and the eagerness of spirits she so often displayed—not to mention an irreverence that matched mine. Her foolish decision had doomed her to the same fate as my mother. I pitied her and prayed she could someday return to her former lively character. When she lost the baby she was carrying and Edmund did not even bother to come to comfort her, my pity became compassion. She begged my forgiveness for the weakness of spirit that had led to her folly. As we talked, our love returned.”

  Once again, scorn crept into the Colonel’s voice as he returned his eyes to his cousin’s. “Edmund had been both charming and relentless in his pursuit. Her father’s obvious preference for the Viscount Wolfbridge as his son-in-law added to her confusion. Eleanor had become a commodity to him, just like his textiles. His dream was to “lord” it over his business cronies that his daughter would one day be a countess. This noble aspiration was worth fifty thousand pounds to him. Mr Harding cared nothing for his daughter’s happiness.”

  “But, what can you do about your love for Eleanor, and obviously her love for you?”

  Richard’s face displayed resignation. “Absolutely nothing—but attempt to ease her pain. My brother has no regard for her; his pleasures as we have been discussing were not what they ought to have been. From the first he treated her unkindly. She has even admitted to me that she sometimes prays he will die—even though Edmund’s death would not mean we would be able to marry.” The Colonel seemed to be considering something before he spoke again. “Once, my brother even suggested that I should discreetly assume the job of producing the heir, but Eleanor refused.” His voice wavered for a few more seconds. “She had scruples about dishonouring her marriage vows, but most importantly, she did not trust him. She feared he would accuse us of adultery and divorce her. With her money safely in his possession, there would be no need to keep Eleanor.”

  Darcy felt his cousin’s despair, and wanted to determine just how resolved he was to a lifetime of unhappiness. “Did you never try to find love somewhere else?”

  “I did find love in Spain, but that was even more disastrous. It has left me a cynic of the worst kind… the kind that has seen too much, and will never embrace hope again.” Richard laughed at the pun he had unconsciously made. He could tell his cousin had no idea why he was laughing. Perhaps he would realize the source of his amusement if he told him the history, that no one—not even his mother or Eleanor—knew. Darcy had, after all, wanted to understand human depravity.

  “What happened in Spain?”

  “When Napoleon decided to extend his Continental System—two of his targets were Denmark and Portugal. Portugal refused, and Napoleon invaded. My regiment, which was fresh from trying to coerce the Danish to do the same, was sent to their aid.”

  Darcy did not want to return to war stories. He said with a need to speed his cousin to explain about finding love in Spain. “But how did you end up in Spain?”

  Richard could tell Darcy was trying to hurry him along, but he was enjoying explaining the subtle similarities of war and love for his hapless cousin. His face settled into a contemptuous mask. “See Cuz, Napoleon needed to control the ports of Spain. It is a bit like needing to marry for money, would you not agree?” The Colonel chuckled as Darcy’s face looked confused by his metaphor. “By a series of deceptions, the French were able to accomplish a regime change quite easily. Boney ‘persuaded’ Charles and his son Ferdinand to abdicate the Spanish throne, and made his own brother, Joseph, king. Of course, then he had to reinforce loyalty to him with a large army.”

  Darcy was unsure the point of his cousin’s tale. Then he noticed the Colonel’s face had shifted to a haunted look… similar to the one he had first seen the day he met Miss Elizabeth coming out of Darcy house. Richard’s eyes told him just how difficult it was for his cousin to relate this history and he knew it was prudent to remain silent.

  “Napoleon was now involved in an entanglement from which he may never escape—or us, for that matter. The Spanish who had originally welcomed the French as harbingers of liberty soon changed their tune when the realities of occupation set in. Fierce Spanish guerrillas took the field, and the cruelties of the French soldiers were answered by atrocities. I was sent as part of a force to sustain the insurgents. It has gone badly for Napoleon because he was not counting on the righteous anger of the Spanish people.”

  Richard struggled to maintain his composure. “I was statione
d in a village near Madrid, and the leader of the insurgents in that area was the mayor of the town. His daughter, Esperanza, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was also courageous, and aided the fighting by any means necessary. She was particularly adept at carrying things—messages and ammunition. No one would dare question a lady of quality’s motives. She was excellent at deceiving the deceivers.”

  Darcy startled his cousin by exclaiming quite loudly, “That is what she said in her letter.”

  “You have a female correspondent who has studied Machiavelli?”

  “I guess she has. There is so much I do not know about her, because I never bothered to find out. She also said ‘all warfare is deception.’”

  “Ah, she has read The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Will I ever meet your military strategist friend?”

  Darcy looked ashamed as he replied. “I doubt it. I treated her very badly, and I am sure she never wants to see me again. I too have lost all hope.” Darcy’s face was beginning to register understanding. “Ah, now I see. Esperanza means hope in Spanish.” Now his shame became compassion. “Your painful lapse into humour a moment ago prepares me for Esperanza’s fate. Finish telling me your story, and then maybe I will tell you my hopeless tale.”

  “I fell in love with Esperanza and it was like a fairy tale. For the short time we knew each other, she wiped out all thoughts of Eleanor. I petitioned her father to allow us to marry once the French had left the area. He agreed, but insisted we remain in Spain.” With a shrug of his shoulders, Richard admitted, “Somehow in the midst of war, propriety seemed unimportant. Our relationship became physical. Oh Darcy, I am so thankful we had those beautiful stolen moments.”

  The sadness deepened in Richard, and his face returned to the window rather than allowing Darcy to see his face. It would not do to allow him to know that colonels who were also affable older cousins sometimes cried. “Napoleon’s troops caught Esperanza in the act of transporting weapons in her carriage. First they raped her, and then they beat her before leaving her on the side of the road. She could have possibly survived, but the humiliation of the violation destroyed her will to live. Her father allowed me to hold her hand through the night, but in the morning, just at dawn, she died.”

  Richard’s voice became firmer and tinged with pride as he said, “The guerrillas retaliated for what they did to Esperanza; and the French rounded up many of the villagers and formed a firing squad. They cared not whether they had those who retaliated, because the executions were mostly about intimidation. I was not there; but a neighbour of Esperanza’s described a row of disciplined men, impersonally obeying orders, in the name of an emperor hundreds of miles away.” The Colonel’s voice cracked with emotion as he graphically drew a picture of the event for his cousin. “She said they shot down a huddled and helpless group of other men who refused to accept their domination. It happened in the dead of night, and a lantern illuminated the gruesome target… lighting up faces and hands contorted by anguish. Some faces depicted despair or terror, while others displayed defiance and courage at the moment of death.”

  For a moment Darcy was reminded of the poignant paintings of Miranda done by George Romney. His cousin had described this firing squad in such a way that he saw it as a work of heartbreaking art. In outrage at the agony of the Spanish people, he donned an arrogant and haughty expression. “Oh, that Napoleon is a curse to the civilized world.”

  “Oh, please, Cuz, talk to your military strategist friend. Maybe she can knock some sense into your head. This endless war we have been involved in for more than fifteen years is about deceit and greed on both sides.”

  He scowled at his cousin and was glad the conversation was becoming less personal. “In the beginning of the war, Britain was afraid of revolutionary ideas spreading to the lower strata—you remember, those brutes that rape—but then Napoleon came to power.” Once Richard knew his cousin was listening closely to his lecture, he picked up the thread of his intent. Someone in his family needed to understand this aspect of his anguish. “Little Boney began conducting a relentless diplomatic and military struggle against us on behalf of the victorious French bourgeoisie. You see they were in competition with men like Mr Harding for control of the world market. The noble goals of the French Revolution—Liberty, Equality and Fraternity—were left behind in the dust—and my job is to sacrifice life, limb and rump to make certain that British trade is unimpeded.” Richard’s sardonic laughter returned. “Eleanor’s father had no idea how much more I was doing to improve his business than Edmund could ever contribute.”

  “But where is your patriotism? Our troops are not as brutal as Napoleon’s—our goals are noble.”

  Richard proved to his cousin he was a Fitzwilliam, and could display the disdain that was part of his birthright. “Oh, yes, they are, and our goals are very similar to theirs. We need to check Napoleon in order to protect our possessions such as India and Ireland, our trade with Asia and the Americas and the superiority of our navy.” He knew he was spewing rhetoric at his cousin and needed to move his argument back to the human component if he was to win him. “You remember I was in Denmark in ’06. Well, in order to keep them from joining the Continental System, we bombarded Copenhagen for four days. I believe the Danes think us brutal. Ask some of the men who fought in Ireland in 1798 whether there was cruelty… ask Jamie. We always have to threaten to hang a few lads after we take a town in Spain—women are as much the spoils of war as jewels and chickens. It is never about fighting for noble goals.” Colonel Fitzwilliam momentarily closed his eyes waiting for his cousin to say something. When he did not he opened them and grinned at his cousin. “It is time to change the subject. I am becoming too agitated. Tell me about this woman you have hurt and have no hope of winning. She sounds like someone I could love. Do I have a chance? Would I have enough time to woo and wed her before I return to Spain? I’ve a mind to have a wife who would follow the drum.”

  Darcy was very unnerved by such ideas, but he said politely, “No, that would not do for her. I think I love her, but I am very confused.”

  “Ah, you think you love her. I am not sure thinking is what it is all about.”

  “How did you know when you first loved Eleanor?”

  Richard threw his head back and laughed at the memory. “It came without warning… just as I realized I had mashed potato on the tip of my nose while dining at Lord Colton’s. Eleanor was seated next to me, and we had been having a delightful conversation. I was already quite impressed with both her wit and her dowry. Suddenly, as it dawned on me that I had this thoroughly unfashionable blemish; she reached out—without causing anyone to notice—touched my nose with her fingertip and popped the offending potato in her mouth. She had me, Darcy. Her act had been so bold and she cared not a fig for decorum. I know, with all my heart, that if we had married she would have been there for me if ever I needed ointment rubbed on my backside.” A moment’s reflection halted his humour. “I had often wondered whether love when it came would alter my life altogether… it did… but not in the way I imagined.” Suddenly, he had a need to move on. “Tell me why you think you love this military strategist. Is she brave?”

  “I don’t truly understand her. All I am able to tell you is that it has been six years, and I am unable to stop thinking about her; I even thought about her when I was married to Anne.”

  Richard let out a low whistle. “That is some admission—especially coming from you, Darce.”

  “I have felt such guilt and believed myself to be no better than Edmund, because she was very young and I was married. It is wrong I had those feelings. Obviously, as it turns out, I was not exactly like your brother. She is the gentleman’s daughter who was raped by Edmund. She demanded six thousand pounds not to tell Eleanor’s father about him. I realized he had taken advantage of her, but I believed he seduced her. In the end, I could never quite forget that she was a greedy thing to demand money for her ordeal”

  “She demanded money and she was so young? N
ow I know I love her. Why did she ask for compensation from you as well?”

  “She blamed Anne and me because the rape took place in my house.”

  “Where were you at the time of the violation?”

  “At my solicitor’s.”

  “Where was Anne?”

  “She said she left Miss Elizabeth alone in a sitting room because she was feeling unwell, but I am unsure…”

  Darcy realized the carriage was turning into the park at Rosings. He noticed out the window two kites flying in the distance. One was a green dragon, and the other was Puss in Boots. “Richard, I was wrong, you are soon to meet this military strategist woman that I think I love, and before you do, there is something else you must know.”

  42 DISGUISE OF EVERY SORT

  Bethany Darcy ran as fast as she could. Positive speed was the key to success, she was resolved to make Puss in Boots climb higher than the green dragon Lew was holding. Looking over her shoulder to determine his progress, she saw he was making absolutely no attempt to send his kite further aloft. Abruptly she stopped and scowled at her brother. He seemed to have lost all interest in their competition. Lewis had needed much more help from Miss Lizzy than she did to launch his kite. He might be taller, but he was a year younger and not as quick as she was. Besides, ever since making Mrs Mary’s sister’s acquaintance, he reminded Bethany of Papa—his mind always drifting off somewhere. Now, he was standing perfectly still with a ridiculous grin on his face, looking toward their smiling instructor.

  Lewis Darcy returned Miss Lizzy’s look with laughter. The warmth of her gaze prompted him to run in her direction, heedless that his kite was dipping dangerously close to the ground. He had a powerful need and nothing would keep him from her side. When he reached her, he handed her the string of the kite and put his arm around her leg. Her smile was now for him alone, and his cheeks dented with delight.