Revelations

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  'It sounds like your father was even more intimate with Wickham than your letter described, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth observed, feeling something like concern over her beloved's apparent guilt over how Wickham turned out.

  'True, I related the facts as I knew them from my own experience, not the suspicions I have entertained since I was maybe twenty years old: that my father knew of at least some of George Wickham's indiscretions and didn't disapprove of them, may have overlooked them in someone he was so fond of. I couldn't very well tell you then, you loved Wickham and hated me, and I had just been forcibly woken up to the fact that I didn't know you at all.

  Besides, it wasn't relevant to you at the time, I just needed to warn you of

  Wickham's propensity to lie about, well, anything.

  Then lately, after discovering my father's hoard of lewd books, and reading one almost from cover to cover, I've had to revise my opinion once more: what if father did know all George Wickham's failings? He knew mine, taught me principles but left me arrogant and overbearing. What if he appreciated Wickham's friendliness and accepted his being unprincipled?

  Offering him the chance to lead a gentleman's life, but only on the condition that he improve his style of living. Leaving him the rights to a living instead of plain money may have signified father's regret over letting his protégé lose his way.'

  Elizabeth could not help one pertinent thought forcing itself to the front of her mind. Her countrified naiveté had quickly been cured by Simon's lessons in the ways of the world, she was after all very smart and learned quickly, and like her father was afflicted with a keen eye for human shortcomings, seeing excesses and inconsistencies in the behaviour of her own class everywhere since having had them pointed out to her by Simon.

  Fitzwilliam would have been shocked to know how worldly-wise his young bride had become, but Elizabeth could not regret her initiation into knowledge of the true nature of the big city one bit.

  What Fitzwilliam told her could not but give her the sneaking suspicion that his father might have been even closer to Wickham than any of them thought. His father's loving way of extenuating Wickham's personal weaknesses as a kind of zest for life he inherited from his similarly gifted mother, could not but create a suspicion in Elizabeth's quick mind that more might have been going on between the gentleman and Mrs Victoria Wickham than the acquaintance between a valued employee's wife and the master of the house.

  She was not going to share this thought with her beloved, of course, not without proof. No-one wanted to believe their own father capable of duplicity towards their own mother, her strongly principled beloved had endured enough pain with his father preferring a more lively young man over his legal son, leaving the latter to suffer for lack of social abilities, and the other from want of restraint to his habit of 'celebrating life'.

  She deliberately broke the mood by saying pertly, 'Well, Mr Darcy, since you have taken the trouble to come over and admire us, we must play your favourite. My fingers await your orders.'

  That would distract him from Wickham, he might be Fitzwilliam's brother by marriage, but that was as far as it went, and her beloved had enough regrets as it was. Time to divert his thoughts to something more pleasant.

  And of course it worked.

  'Ah, you know I cannot resist you when you call me Mr Darcy. Something lively, please, for I am going to take my beautiful sister for a spin.'

  They made a lovely couple, brother and sister, both tall and slender with a very upright posture, and yet so much more vulnerable to the world than Elizabeth had ever suspected. But that was for the best, there should be some equality in a relationship, and since Fitzwilliam was providing all the worldly goods in theirs, it was only fair that Elizabeth would at least be able to protect him and his sister from those who knew about their weakness and might seek to exploit it. Let them try, they would find Elizabeth on their path, armed with intelligence, wit, and now an ever-growing knowledge of the world.

  Georgiana didn't claim her brother entirely but offered to switch places after a few minutes, playing the song Elizabeth taught her just now and of course to near perfection, improvising on it, as Elizabeth clung to her tall husband's elegant shape and let herself be led across the room until lunch was ready to be served.

  Chapter 27

  With the situation in their house more or less back to normal, and all the servants but Simon knowing their place and sticking to their own part of the house and their jobs, they hardly got to speak to Bob anymore, so that afternoon after riding they made an effort to find out how the faithful driver and stable hand was doing. He was not comfortable at all at being addressed personally and didn't manage to talk to his master and mistress very well, but he led them to the stalls where the two solidly built horses of the slow team were munching their hay quietly. By now he could speak again and he proudly asked, 'Can you see the difference, master?'

  Fitzwilliam looked them over well, and to his credit entered both stalls to feel their inhabitants' condition as well, before he remarked, 'They're more muscled than I expected them to be, Bob, and they seem quite a bit sleeker.

  And of course their coats are shiny and they seem very content.'

  Beaming, the plain young man confirmed, 'You always were a good judge of horses, master, I've been exercising them as much as I would the fast team, the poor creatures never get to see a meadow or even a paddock so the least I can give them is enough time to really stretch their legs despite the snow. I've found a perfect lane to let them go all out, even in the snow, I bet they won't be as lead-footed as they were for Bruce allowing them to be lazy buggers.'

  As soon as he heard himself speak he quickly said, 'I'm sorry Mrs Darcy, that is no way to talk in front of a lady.'

  'No harm done, Bob, and the horses look fine indeed. They seem to be an exact match, while I have no trouble recognising Daisy, I couldn't keep the one from the other with these two.'

  'Begging your pardon, Mrs Darcy,' the stolid servant observed, 'but Mr Hugo would never allow anything less than a perfectly matched team in the master's stables. Well, excepting the thoroughbreds of course, they're so rare and such a new breed that it's a miracle master Hugo found four of the same

  colouring and more or less the same size at all.'

  'It took a year before he had a full team,' Fitzwilliam observed, proudly, Elizabeth noticed, he did have some vanity after all, 'and then he spent half a year getting them used to pulling a carriage. I had to wait nearly two years before I could show off my lightning-fast team. How long before you were allowed to drive them, Bob?'

  'As long again, master,' Bob replied, 'it must have been a full two years, and very proud I was to have master Hugo and yourself put such trust in me. It was mighty difficult to please master Hugo, but I've never been sorry to bear with his teaching methods, for being your driver is the best job in the world, master.'

  'There is no-one I trust more, Bob,' Fitzwilliam returned the compliment, 'I hope you'll stay my driver for as long as you can handle the strain, physically and mentally.'

  Now Bob looked positively doubtful, which was strange, for Fitzwilliam had been very clear how much he trusted this insignificant-looking young man. At his master's inquiring look he explained.

  'I like nothing better than being your driver, master, but something has come up that might become a kind of problem.'

  'You have not been imposed upon again, have you?'

  'No, master, no certainly not, everyone has been very nice, maybe a bit too nice, this being a problem of a very good nature, but a possible problem nonetheless.'

  Another encouraging look was needed to make him speak up.

  'Well, you see, there is Fanny, one of the maids Janine hired?'

  Elizabeth knew whom he was talking of, a very pretty, sweet-natured girl of almost twenty who had not been dismissed when they had first returned to London and found the house in the grip of dissonance and abuse of power.

  A hard-working, gently spoken girl and e
legantly beautiful as well, not stuck-up like some of the city maids.

  As Fitzwilliam nodded likewise, acknowledging he knew who Fanny was, Bob stated, with a lot of pride colouring his voice, 'Well, Fanny and me, we've become quite attached, and I'm thinking of asking her to get engaged.'

  As he told this, Elizabeth knew her surprise had to be written all over her face, so rude, but how could such a plain, insignificant man capture the attention and affection of such a pretty and undoubtedly much-admired girl?

  Bob merely smiled, not insulted at all, apparently.

  'I was surprised, too, Mrs Darcy, when she told me she liked me more than just as a friend, I have heard that last a lot, you see, for being so plain, 'Bob, I like you very much, but you're like a brother to me.'

  But not Fanny, and she meant it, too, I'm sure.'

  'Now it's my turn to apologise, Bob,' Elizabeth told him frankly, 'showing my doubts that way was very rude of me. I'm very sorry, I hope I haven't hurt your feelings.'

  The young man laughed ingratiatingly, actually improving his looks quite a bit, and he rushed to say, 'Oh no, Mrs Darcy, I know I'm as plain as a board, and I'm quite used to being slighted by the girls. No offence taken, I was as surprised as anyone to be noticed by such a beautiful angel. But when I told her that, for I did, she became quite annoyed and said, 'Bob Jones, don't ever let me hear you talk yourself down like that ever again! You are the sweetest man I have ever met, and you have a very important job. Simon said the master told him he trusts his life to you and that you are irreplaceable to him. And I just know you'd never hurt the woman you loved, or take her money for drinking or gambling, and you'd worship the ground she walked on.'

  Where do you suppose she learned to talk like that? Anyways, she managed to convince me that looks aren't everything, and we have been talking a lot and going out in our spare time, and I suppose we're in love.'

  Fitzwilliam managed to keep a straight face throughout Bob's whole story, and now smiled only a little.

  'Congratulations, Bob, that is a very nice girl you've managed to find yourself involved with. But I frankly don't see any problem, you are allowed a life of your own, aren't you? I know it isn't common for maids to marry, but it's not unheard of for two servants of the same household to make match, is it?'

  This was hard for Bob, he was really struggling to voice his possible problem. But after a few moments he tried.

  'Well you see, master, Fanny is a city girl, and I'm away at Pemberley for most of the year, so we'd hardly see each other.'

  'I see, and if you stay in this household you will not be able to drive the fast team for me anymore. Well, we'll have to get Mr Hugo to rush Bruce through training then.'

  Was Fitzwilliam seriously making fun of Bob? Yes, he was, but the poor fellow was still so in awe of his master that he didn't even get it, he was very

  upset but he didn't dare to protest his master's seemingly flippant reaction, and rightfully so. Making fun of people was very entertaining sometimes, but this was not funny at all to Bob. Or was it?

  Slowly, a smile spread over Bob's face, he was kind of cute like that, and he dared to speak.

  'Master, you must be making fun of me, for I know you would never put Mrs Darcy's life in the hands of someone who let your horses grow fat and placid. But I suppose that means you have already thought of a solution, for you'd never joke about anything serious.'

  So much trust in a single human being, how did Fitzwilliam live up to those expectations?

  'You are right of course, Bob, Bruce will need at least a year of learning how to work hard before Mr Hugo will even think about letting him ride or drive a horse. I was thinking more in the lines of taking Fanny along with us to Pemberley a few times, see if she really can't get used to the country. I'm certain Mrs Reynolds can use an extra hand when Mrs Darcy and I ask some friends over to enjoy spring with us.'

  'Thank you so much, master! I didn't dare hope you'd do that for us, Fanny reckons she'll be looking for a new job come spring, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to stay in your service a little longer.'

  'And we'll be happy to have both of you, Bob. I'll ask Mrs Annesley to take care of the details, you just pop the question. Or wait until Mrs Annesley has made our offer to Fanny, then make your proposals. I dare not give you advice there, since I have proven not to have a talent for that kind of business.'

  Elizabeth soon suspected Bob to be a quicker thinker than he seemed to be, for the plain young man's face softened, then produced a big smile as he dared observe, 'Everything seems to have worked out just fine for you, master, I sure hope I will do as well. Thank you very much for your kindness, I think I'll wait a bit before I speak, that may be the safest way to go, it's only been three weeks since we really talked the first time.'

  Realising she had never really talked with Fitzwilliam before she accepted his second proposal, Elizabeth considered that in fact she might have followed Charlotte's advice without even being aware of it. She hadn't really known the man she married at all, of course his attachment was serious and had stood the test of many months' adversity, but he could have been disappointed after really getting to know her, as might she.

  As they took leave of Bob and went into the house, Elizabeth rubbing Daisy's good-natured long nose one last time as they passed her stall, she asked Fitzwilliam, 'Weren't you afraid that I would be a totally different person from the woman you fell in love with? That you would be sadly disappointed? We never exchanged more than ten very polite sentences without other people present. Apparently Bob and his Fanny have already talked intimately for several evenings.'

  'There were certainly times when I wished desperately for an opportunity to speak with you openly, to tell you how much I still loved you and to beg you to give me a chance to prove to you that I was not the man you hated so much. But I never doubted you were the only possible woman for me, not even one moment, not even when all seemed lost. Isn't that strange? I truly think I would have loved you forever, even if you had refused me again.

  Remember, I'm almost ten years older than you and I had never in all my adult life met a woman that I could imagine being married to. After Hunsford I decided I would allow myself to mourn your loss for six months, and then I would choose a genteel girl and marry her for duty. But after meeting again at Pemberley I knew I couldn't ever marry someone else, and the first time we really talked proved I had been right all the time, you were exactly whom I thought you were. But dearest Elizabeth, you know I don't need to talk to be with someone, and though we never talked much, I did spend time with you, those moments so special to me despite little being said. And despite being so nervous I could hardly have spoken even if I had wanted to.'

  He had taken her in his arms by now, his feelings needing some outlet besides the words he carefully formulated.

  'And you my love,' he asked, 'did you ever fear I would turn out to be a totally different person than you thought?'

  'After we met at Pemberley I started to develop an appreciation for you, started to understand we would have made a great match. Being convinced that match would never happen because of Lydia's shameful conduct, my appreciation turned into regret and desire to be with you. But that was mostly rational, I wasn't passionately in love. I only discovered passion with you, when I first smelled your personal scent, when I felt your solid shape beneath my hands, when we kissed. And since I decided I wanted to be with you in full possession of my wits and was never blinded by love, I suppose I was convinced you'd be the man I thought you were. Until just after our

  marriage, when I had met all your connections, seen your town house, started to realise how rich you really were. Then I was a bit afraid I'd be a disappointment to you, until you proved to me I wasn't. But I do think it is much more sensible to talk first, get to know each other.'

  They were kissing now, in the little hall connecting the stables to the house, and between kisses Fitzwilliam said frankly, 'I think I am to blame for that, for when you think of it, didn't
we have plenty of time to really talk? In Hertfordshire during parties, your sister and Bingley certainly talked a lot, but also when your sister was ill at Netherfield, and when I visited you at the parsonage or walked with you in the park at Hunsford. I could have started a true conversation any time, and I would have found out what you thought of me, and might have been able to make a better impression on you. Of course I was nervous and tongue-tied, but I was also afraid to encourage you before I had decided whether I really wanted to marry you at all. But those doubts were solely over your family and mine, not even one concerned you, even then I knew you were perfect for me. May I take you to the bedroom? I think I want to be really close to you, closer than propriety allows, even in our very own home.'

  'Yes, please, love, I want to feel you, too, without all these clothes between us. Let's hurry.'

  They reached the bedroom without being seen and without stopping too often for a few more kisses or some heated fondling. When they had finally closed the door behind them, Elizabeth considered how much fun it was to remove the many layers of clothing from the other. She was wearing her riding dress, her chemise and a tiny corset under her coat, and beneath her riding habit she had the common winter petticoats, but also her woollen pantaloons, which might not be the most exciting garment to find one's young wife in.

  'Aren't you cold in just that one dress, Elizabeth, and the coat over it?

  Especially your fashionable dresses are positively flimsy, aren't you cold in the house in the middle of winter?'

  'The coat is actually very warm, my love, the fur collar stops drafts, and you'll soon find I'm wearing very disenchanting woollen pantaloons beneath my skirts and petticoats, as well as those lovely boots you bought for me. I thought it ludicrous to buy hunting gear in the middle of London, but they're the best boots I ever owned.'

  He smiled at her praise of her new boots and continued, 'And in the house?'

  Her beloved clearly couldn't believe she was not cold without wearing a coat inside, as he did even in the heat of summer.