Darcy and Fitzwilliam: A Tale of a Gentleman and an Officer

by Karen Wasylowski

  When they reached the first of four stepping stones that led to the main front veranda, a strange sort of keening noise began, faintly at first, growing louder and nearer in proximity. They stopped, quizzically looking first at each other and then about them. The sound grew more strident.

  It was then that a medium-sized porker appeared from around the back of the house, streaking across their path and squealing at an ear-deafening pitch, followed closely by a barefoot, unkempt serving boy wielding a butcher knife and swearing like a drunken sailor. Catherine gripped Fitzwilliam’s arm and tightly closed her eyes.

  They stood frozen for several moments. “Steady on, old girl.” Fitzwilliam struggled valiantly against the urge to laugh.

  Catherine stared straight before her and swallowed. “Richard, really… you know how… Richard, I dislike… cant terms… such as ‘old girl’… Was that a pig?!” she finally spit out.

  His chin hit his chest as he bit his upper lip. It was a while before he could speak. “Actually, I believe that was dinner.”

  She winced and paled.

  “Remember, dearest, in warfare it is always best to choose your battles.” He squeezed her elbow gently. “Shall we proceed?”

  She shut her eyes again and nodded.

  ***

  Compassion replaced the apprehension that had nearly paralyzed Lizzy after sending the serving girl to find Darcy. There was true anxiety in the face and mannerisms of the proud woman who stood before her, and Lizzy curtseyed respectfully to her new aunt. “Lady Catherine, I cannot tell you how happy we are that you are here.”

  Catherine nodded, nervously shifting her feet. “I am very sorry for your loss, Elizabeth. Please accept my condolences to you and to your family.” Her voice wavered only once, and she cleared her throat, pulling fretfully at her gloves before continuing. “It was never your mother’s fault, nor her wish, I am sure, that her garden is so small.” Fitzwilliam turned his head to the side, coughing once to cover his bark of laughter.

  “That is very kind of you to say, Lady Catherine.” Lizzy motioned for them to be seated. “Your condolences are dearly appreciated.”

  “It’s Aunt Catherine, now, Elizabeth.” Catherine bestowed upon her a brief, strained smile that quickly faded. She stared at the ceiling, perhaps hoping to discover written there some mutually enjoyable topic of conversation. Finding nothing, she sighed.

  “It’s good to see you also, Richard, dear friend. How are you able to be away from Paris at this time?”

  “I am on the diplomatic circuit, Elizabeth. I have been shuttling between London and Paris for several weeks now.”

  At that moment, Darcy entered the room. “Your ladyship,” he said quietly as he walked toward his aunt and bowed, taking both her hands to kiss. Her eyes were on Darcy and him alone now. She fought back a warm smile that would have betrayed her joy, but her eyes grew moist with emotion.

  “You look very well, Darcy, indecently so. Marriage certainly agrees with you. How is your heart?” She poked her finger into his hand to see if an indentation remained which would expose his water retention. There was none. She nodded in relief and smiled.

  “My heart is quite well, Aunt Catherine. Thank you.” He took a step toward Fitzwilliam, and they both shrugged at each other before pulling up their chairs.

  ***

  The four sat down and made small talk for a while, Elizabeth surprised that her reaction to Lady Catherine was so different from their initial meeting. Perhaps living with Darcy has made me more compassionate. A strong feeling of love for this new family of hers welled up within her.

  Like Darcy, Catherine was accustomed to a world where people jumped when she spoke, where people never entertained the thought of voicing an opinion contrary to hers. The Darcys and the de Bourghs and, for that matter, the Fitzwilliams, all took for granted their world of privilege, would know no reaction to their existence other than acquiescence to whatever they wished.

  Experiencing a surge of empathy for Catherine, Lizzy noted the way the older woman looked at Darcy, all the love of a mother toward her own son. In the end, it turned out they had something very important in common after all—they both loved him dearly. Absently, Lizzy placed a hand on her stomach. She must have had a smile on her face, because she noticed Catherine was looking straight at her.

  “Elizabeth?” Catherine looked deeply into Elizabeth’s eyes. “You are with child, aren’t you?” Elizabeth’s and Darcy’s heads shot up with a start, and Fitzwilliam let out a hoot.

  “Are you, Elizabeth?” he asked with delight.

  Darcy knew not what to say, but Elizabeth answered happily, “Yes, Aunt Catherine, I am.”

  “All right, Catherine, I realize you know all and see all, but how on earth did you divine that?” His aunt amazed Fitzwilliam with her ability to wheedle information from people that they had previously been able to keep secret from the rest of humanity.

  “Well, Fitzwilliam, if you did something more than ride horses all over the Continent, drink inferior brandy, and chase loose women, you would be able to spend some time studying human nature. Elizabeth has placed a gentle hand on her stomach each time I have asked about her health, and then she has looked contentedly at her husband.” Catherine smiled proudly.

  “You are a wonder, Aunt!” he proclaimed.

  “Yes, of course I am.” She was mildly surprised that the fact even needed to be voiced.

  ***

  When Catherine and Fitzwilliam stood to leave, Lizzy reached out and took her new aunt’s hand in both of hers, sincerely regretting the shortness of their visit. “I am so sorry my father was not here to greet you. I know he would have been greatly honored by your visit, Aunt Catherine.”

  “Well, of course he would have been, my dear. Indeed, who would not?” Catherine patted Lizzy’s hand in return.

  Darcy walked up to her and kissed her cheek, “Thank you, Aunt, for coming today. It has meant a great deal to both Elizabeth and me.” Tears welled up in his aunt’s eyes as she placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “You have shown yourself to be the better person, and as always, you have my sincere admiration and love.”

  “Stuff and nonsense. This is family, and family is the most important thing in the world. Didn’t I always teach you that, Darcy? Both you and Richard?”

  Fitzwilliam tucked her hand under his elbow. “Indeed you did, Aunt Catherine. You taught us well.”

  “You must all come to Rosings soon, perhaps next month,” she announced grandly as the door to her carriage was closed. Her mood was ecstatic, a new burst of enthusiasm for living putting bloom to her cheeks, and she looked lovingly through her carriage window at the smiling couple.

  “Your father and sisters, also, Elizabeth. It will do them all good to get away from this horrid little house anyway.” She settled back into her carriage then suddenly came forward, poking her head out of the window again. “Your sisters will benefit greatly from my experience. Mark me on this. I will have them drawing in two weeks. And I have heard your sister Mary is a great proficient on the pianoforte. She shall be able to use the one in the children’s wing, as long as she’s in no one’s way and does not play too loudly.” With that, she nodded to Fitzwilliam, and he signaled the driver to be off.

  ***

  Darcy and Elizabeth spent the next few weeks with her father, ensuring that the new housekeeper was well established before they returned to Pemberley and Georgiana.

  Try as she might, Elizabeth could think of little else but what Jane had told her about Caroline and Darcy, although she did not dare bring up the subject again, considering the last episode, what with her unfortunate destruction of furniture and all. However, a seed of doubt had been placed in her mind.

  If she had only asked Darcy what had really transpired between Caroline and her husband at Netherfield, she would have eased her fears.

  ***

  Darcy had been avoiding Caroline as much as possible the afternoon of the funeral luncheon; however, after seeing
Bingley walk away from a conversation with him, the siren struck.

  “Caroline, I didn’t see you there, excuse me.”

  She had brought him a cup of tea. “I believe I prepared this as you like, cream and no sugar.” Her eyes skimmed over his shoulders and chest and boldly wandered down farther before returning lazily to his eyes.

  “Thank you, Caroline. That was thoughtful of you. I am sorry I have not had the opportunity of visiting with you.”

  “I understand your dilemma quite well, Mr. Darcy. However, I do admit to a fear that you have been attempting to avoid me this whole week. I hope that our friendship has not been strained because of your change in marital status?”

  Caroline was generally all smiles and fluttering eyelashes at the sight of any man. Resenting her loss of Darcy, especially to Elizabeth, she exaggerated this affectation with him, thinking it made her more alluring and feminine. It did not.

  “Not at all, Caroline. It is just that my time has been quite taken up elsewhere these past days. I am sure you can appreciate that the loss of Mrs. Bennet has been felt deeply by her family.”

  “Yes, this is the essence of a family in mourning, I have noticed.” She gave a wicked little laugh as she motioned to Mr. Bennet, sitting alone in a corner with his back to the room and examining an old manuscript, Kitty and Mary arguing over who would take the last seedcake, and the Reverend Mr. Collins quoting Philippians to any poor soul who would listen. “The only thing wanting are jugglers and the elegant Lydia dragging along her dutiful husband, Wickham, picking at his teeth.”

  She had a hard, cruel mouth when she spoke, and Darcy wondered how he had ever thought her attractive. It infuriated him that she believed she could insult his wife and her family even as they mourned. “Please excuse me,” he said coldly and turned to leave. Caroline clutched his arm and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You are the most noble and long-suffering of men. I don’t know of another who would take on this ridiculous family with such grace and dignity.”

  Darcy gently pried away her fingers. “You are gravely mistaken, Caroline. I am neither noble nor long-suffering. I merely love my wife with all my heart. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to speak with Mr. Bennet.”

  Caroline watched angrily as he approached his father-in-law, who stood to shake his hand and embrace him in thanks for all that Darcy had done. It was obvious he was gifting Darcy with some bookish treasure they both admired.

  Caroline was furious. She was still only a tradesman’s daughter, regardless how wealthy her father had become or how many peers she had bedded. The idea that the poor little country innocent, Eliza Bennet, was now among the elite of the land was galling in the extreme. Caroline decided it was time for her to either finally win him or trade in on their nasty little secret.

  Chapter 11

  In was not until late September that Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mr. Horace Bennet, Miss Georgiana Darcy, and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam descended upon Rosings Park for a short two-week visit with Lady Catherine and her daughter, Anne. Aunt Catherine was overjoyed to have her two darling nephews back in her home and was determined to make this visit unforgettable, removing forever the strain that had tested them over a year before.

  Nothing of the prior rancor would intrude on this visit, and she made certain that all were afforded the best of servants and rooms. As they began arriving in the late afternoon, Catherine greeted each personally and suggested they retire to their suites to rest and refresh themselves. Dinner would be served at eight that evening.

  Lizzy was amazed at the difference in her reception by Lady Catherine, let alone the attention being lavished upon them all. Her father had his own suite of rooms across from theirs, both breathtaking in their splendor. The view from the balcony was beyond beautiful, the very best in the manor, overlooking the park and the lake beyond. Flowers, candies, and fruit had been placed everywhere, and a bath would be drawn, for both husband and wife in their respective dressing rooms, whenever they desired.

  “This is unbelievable.” With awestruck reverence, she wandered through room after room then out onto the massive stone balcony. The view of the park really was overwhelming.

  “You needn’t whisper, Elizabeth. Rosings Park is not holy ground, no matter what my aunt thinks.”

  “To imagine this is where you were sleeping while I was stuffed into Charlotte Collins’s tiny little cottage, listening to her husband’s ruminations on St. Paul and the place of women in the home.”

  “You are very much mistaken, madam.” Darcy walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her fast-expanding waist. “I’ve never stayed in these rooms before. These rooms are usually reserved for visiting royalty. No, my pathetic room was down another hall and much smaller. I think she’s attempting to make amends,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Well…I must admit to it working—I feel a bit less animosity with every door I open. Why, look at this sitting room, William. I have never seen so much silk and gold in my life! Look at these murals! And even the ceilings are magnificent!!”

  “The real telling point will be the bed. My old bed here is an abomination.” They walked back into the bedroom toward a massive canopied four-poster surrounded with heavy brocade draperies. Beautiful antique tapestries lined the walls of a room crowded with elegantly carved furniture, crystal, and marble anywhere there wasn’t gold. Darcy immediately jumped atop the bed.

  “Good heavens! She really must be feeling guilty. This is certainly a great improvement on my old bed. I should have married you long ago, Miss Bennet—my back would have been spared years of agony.”

  Elizabeth turned to the huge double doors of their balcony, opening them wide to better enjoy the gardens that were just beginning to explode with autumn beauty and fall flowers. “The fragrance from these gardens is overpowering. It makes me feel quite wanton.”

  “Well, in that case, come over here, ducks.”

  Elizabeth turned toward the bed but barely saw her husband now lost amidst the curtains, pillows, bolsters, and feather covers. He raised up his hand. “I’m in here. Wait there, and I’ll come over and fling you up top.”

  She ran giggling to the side and tried to leap up, but her legs were too short and her stomach grown too big. She bounced backward. Darcy was at her side immediately, and together, they laughingly hoisted themselves onto the mattress and then collapsed into laughter.

  “Do you realize that King George himself, as well as many from the royal court of Vienna, princes from Spain, even the Dauphin have all slept in this very bed?” Darcy was struggling to pull them over toward the center.

  “They may very well still be here…”

  ***

  Georgiana was already speaking with Lady Catherine and looked up as her brother and Lizzy entered the room. “Good evening, Brother,” she said as she ran to greet them.

  “Ah, there you all are at last. Georgiana, Anne and I have had a wonderful visit while you all were napping. I hope your rooms are to your liking and you are warm enough.”

  “Warm enough?” Fitzwilliam scowled. “Are you mad, Catherine? It must be nearly eighty-five degrees up there, at least as hot as Spain in July. It’s late September, you know, not early January.”

  “Well, you may be accustomed to sleeping on the ground, exposed to heaven knows what with cloven-hoofed animals and ensigns milling about, Hottentots running naked here and there. But gently bred ladies, especially those who are breeding, need warmth and comfort.”

  Fitzwilliam bowed. “And, evidently, parboiling.”

  Lady Catherine’s foot began tapping in aggravation. “Richard…”

  “Very well, I stand corrected, once again, dear Aunt Catherine. If Elizabeth, Anne, and Georgiana are comfortable, the Hottentots and I can just open a window.”

  “Well, no need to drag foreigners through the house.” Nodding majestically to her guests, Catherine turned toward Lizzy’s father. “Mr. Bennet?” She smiled warmly, and her eyes twinkled. My goodness, but he is quit
e a handsome man. “Would you be so kind as to escort me in to dinner?” Quite handsome.

  “I would be most honored, your ladyship.” Catherine placed her hand upon Mr. Bennet’s arm while Fitzwilliam escorted Anne and Darcy escorted his wife and sister into dinner.

  All at once, the doors to the dining room were flung open to reveal a magnificently decorated table in the finest-looking room Lizzy had ever seen. There were huge murals painted on the walls and ceiling, and tapestries that rivaled any museum’s. Vases of immense floral bouquets graced the halls and table. Larger-than-life statues in cut stone stood in a huge circle that surrounded the dining area. Massive crystal chandeliers glittered above, being magnified by huge gilt-edged mirrors. It was breathtaking.

  ***

  “Darcy, you won’t believe who’s still in service here. Old Margaret MacLeod. Can you believe it? I’ve had my eye on that bit of fluff since she was a vixen of seventy-two.” Each heavily ornate chair had its own footman who hurried forward to assist with seating.

  Everyone laughed, except for Lady Catherine, whose eyes narrowed at him. “Richard! I really cannot condone this manner of discourse. Old Margaret has been with me practically from my conception, even before, if my memory serves. Please show her some respect.” Lady Catherine took her place at the head of the table, motioning to the others to be seated.

  “We often speak of you, you know,” Catherine continued, nodding for the wine to be poured. “Yes. When I assure her you will probably one day be hanged, well, it just seems to cheer her so.”

  It was a pleasant surprise to Mr. Bennet, the atmosphere in the dining room so informal and lighthearted, everyone laughing and talking at once. It wasn’t at all what he had expected. A rather unusual family, this, not the stuffy aristocracy he had vaguely remembered from his youth and had been dreading. Not in the least.