Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth

by Greer Boyd

  “Master Thomas,” Darcy asked, holding out his hand as those same silvery eyes looked up to him, “shall we go to my study for a little while before I take you to the nursery?” Hesitantly, the little boy released his hold on Darcy’s leg and reached his hand up for the large one that soon engulfed it. As the two exited the guest bedchamber, Georgiana looked at her aunt, cousin, and Charlotte, who looked back at her with amazement displayed on their faces that rivaled a quite similar expression on hers.

  Darcy’s normally long stride was shortened to accommodate the staccato steps of the child walking by his side. When they reached the stairs, without a second thought, Darcy lifted the boy to rest upon the arm held over his hip, whereupon Thomas slipped an arm around his neck. Once inside the study, he set the boy down and motioned him to the small couch. Slowly, Thomas moved forward, took his thumb out of his mouth, and quietly asked, “Papa?”

  Taken aback by the look of bewilderment on the little boy’s face, Darcy hesitated momentarily as he lifted the child to sit on the couch beside him. As he put his arm around the wool-clad shoulders, Darcy looked into the questioning eyes, “No, Thomas. I am not your father.” Then gazing toward the partially opened study window, he murmured almost to himself, “But maybe I should talk to your mother about that.”

  Thomas had been seated beside Darcy for only a few minutes when a gentle breeze riffled the drapes around the partially opened window and the scent of lavender flowed throughout the study. The boy suddenly raised his head, took his thumb from his mouth, pointed toward the open study window, and said, “Mama.”

  As he squirmed from his seat beside Darcy and quickly slid off the couch, Thomas’ feet gained the floor. With footfalls made silent by the rug covered floor of the study, he ran to the low, narrow table beneath the open window. There rested the dish containing last year’s dried sprigs of lavender. Placing his small hands on either side of the dish and almost sticking his nose into the sprigs, he cried, “Mama.”

  “Ah,” thought Darcy, “so Elizabeth’s preferred fragrance is lavender.”

  As the breeze moved the drapes again, Thomas pointed with the whole of his hand to the open window, “Out.”

  “Would you like to go outside for a few minutes before going to the nursery?” Darcy asked, taking the obvious cue and remarking for the first time that the lad was attired very much like a little man. Darcy studied him for a moment. The boy was tall and lithe, and like Anne Elizabeth, he lacked the chubbiness of most babies his age, which Darcy assumed to be about the same age as his daughter. Dark mahogany curls topped his round head, and thick overlong lashes of the same colour surrounded bright light gray eyes.

  When once again the child pointed to the outside, insisted, “Out,” and then looked up at him with so much trust, Darcy ached to hold him tightly and call him “son.”

  Finally, Thomas looked back to where Darcy remained seated, held his arms up, and with a plaintive tone pled, “Out.” So, Darcy stood up from the couch, walked to where the boy stood, and reached down to pick him up. He took the briefest of moments to clutch the boy to his chest, before again settling the eager youngster on his arm against his hip and heading down the wide staircase. As they entered the library, little Thomas’ eyes widened at the rows of shelves, before Darcy opened the French doors, carried him into the garden, and gently lowered him to the ground.

  A ball Anne Elizabeth and her nurse had left in the garden near the base of an evergreen bush caught Thomas’ eye, and he played with it for a few minutes, before Darcy took him up the stairs to the nursery. There, Thomas and Anne Elizabeth eyed each other for but a few moments before they both smiled and started playing together with the toys scattered on the floor. Nurse Lauren, a young, sweet-faced nurse assigned to care for Thomas, looked briefly at Darcy before calmly seating herself on the floor near the two children. Anne Elizabeth’s nurse sat back down in the rocking chair and took up her previously discarded needlework, glancing up now and again to watch the children.

  On his way down the stairs from the nursery, Darcy saw Dr. Crawford heading for the guest bedchamber. The doctor waited until Darcy had almost reached him before extending his hand, “It has been an interesting couple of days, has it not?”

  “I am just pleased that you have been able to help us,” replied Darcy as he shook the man’s hand placing his left hand over their clasped hands. “Please come to my study before you leave.”

  “Of course,” the doctor replied simply.

  Continuing on, the two men walked the remaining few steps to the guest bedchamber. When Mrs. Wyatt opened the door in response to Darcy’s knock, he could see that his Aunt Eleanor and his Cousin Anne’s companion were still running damp cloths over Elizabeth’s face, neck, and arms. The doctor walked purposefully past Darcy, and Mrs. Wyatt looked up saying, “Mr. Darcy, I need to close the door so that the doctor can perform his examination.”

  As he began to take his leave keeping his gaze intently on Elizabeth, he saw her begin to struggle, tossing her arms into the air and kicking her feet wildly under the cover. Then, the door closed in front of him ever so quietly.

  “Has she done this before?” asked the doctor with concern, as he and Mrs. Wyatt struggled to calm Elizabeth, whose agitation only seemed to increase.

  “No,” Mrs. Wyatt responded. “We only noticed her fever less than two hours ago. Then we cleaned her head wound again, looking carefully for any signs of infection before re-bandaging the area. Since that time, she has been almost unresponsive, while we have been trying to bring her fever down with the use of the damp cloths.”

  “Excellent as always, Mrs. Wyatt,” acknowledged the doctor with a smile. “You have already done all that I could have done.” However, he shook his head as a slight frown furrowed his brow, “Head wounds are so very hard to treat, and the outcome equally difficult to predict.”

  “Doctor,” Georgiana nervously clutched and un-clutched her hands at what she was about to say. “I know that this sounds completely absurd, but Elizabeth did not start to struggle in earnest until my brother left the room.”

  Directing her gaze from the doctor’s puzzled face, she turned quickly to her aunt and cousin. Closing her eyes for a moment to center her thoughts, she opened then and began to speak, “I know how this sounds, quite insane I am sure, but I have noticed some connection, for lack of a better word, between them, between my brother and Elizabeth. I need to talk with Jane, but if she is agreeable, I think that my brother should be allowed to come into the room to help calm her. He can sit in one of the chairs facing away from her, but still be close by.”

  She had just finished speaking when Jane and Aunt Lilly entered the room. As Elizabeth continued to thrash about, they could only watch in growing alarm.

  Georgiana quick explained to Jane and Aunt Lilly what she had observed. Jane grasped the young woman’s hand: “I do not know the validity of your assessment, but, if there is anything that could possibly help to calm Elizabeth, I am certainly comfortable with its use.” With no hesitation, Aunt Lilly nodded her head in enthusiastic agreement.

  Georgiana immediately left the room to search for her brother, but found him leaning against the wall just outside the door with a look of great concern covering his face. “Wills,” she began, taking his hand in hers and leading him down the hallway a few steps, “I need to talk with you.”

  Not knowing exactly how to broach the subject, she simply spoke to him directly, “Brother, I have noticed what appears to be a . . .” Struggling for the proper word, she continued on, “connection or link, a bond of some sort, between you and Elizabeth, Mrs. Mills.”

  When Darcy abruptly turned his head and looked away from her steady gaze, she knew that he was aware of it, too. “I do not want to place you in any sort of uncomfortable situation, but I do believe your presence is a calming influence for Elizabeth.”

  Darcy immediately looked back to face her and noticed a hint of amusement in her eyes. She continued, “I know that it is not strictl
y proper, but since others will always be present, Jane and I would like for you to come into Elizabeth’s room and sit in a chair located fairly close to her bed.” Aware of his predicament, she emphasized, “Brother, the chair will be faced away from Elizabeth at all times, so you cannot look upon her.”

  Darcy’s face reddened suddenly, but without saying a word, he stood with his back straight, nodded his head, and allowed Georgiana to lead him back down the hallway. Entering the room where he saw the doctor, and both his family and Elizabeth’s gathered, he began to feel as though he had been caught in the midst of a most embarrassing indiscretion. That was until he saw Elizabeth start to calm, and her agitation and struggle wane. Georgiana directed him to sit in a chair that she pulled close to the opposite side of the bed, away from where Mrs. Wyatt and the doctor were working with Elizabeth. As he sat down upon the chair, Elizabeth calmed even more, and finally she stilled completely.

  Darcy’s blush rose to his hairline, as five heads, his sister, his aunt, his cousin, his cousin’s companion, and Mrs. Wyatt, turned together to trace their gaze from him to Elizabeth, and then to Jane, Mrs. Gardiner, and the doctor.

  As he leaned his head against the back of the chair, a peace swept over him as never before, and he thought of the words from Shakespeare’s sonnet that best described what he felt.

  Being your slave, what should I do but tend

  Upon the hours and times of your desire?

  I have no precious time at all to spend,

  Nor services to do, till you require.

  Closing his eyes in contentment, Darcy knew immediately how he felt about the woman lying on the bed behind him. He had never once looked into her eyes or heard the melody of her voice, but he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he loved her.

  If the doctor was stunned by what had just taken place in the bedchamber, he kept his feelings to himself. As he unconsciously pushed his spectacles back up his nose, he instructed Mrs. Wyatt: “Continue with the application of cool cloths and, if you can, encourage her to drink some warm broth and tea infused with the herbs I will leave you. Use first the extraction of neem from the nim tree, just one drop in a cup of broth each time, and then an hour later use the feverfew brewed as a tea. Continue to alternate between the two until her fever breaks. Unfortunately, I suspect that the fever may continue to worsen before it finally does subside.”

  Turning to face Darcy as he sat in the chair looking sheepish, the doctor only smiled knowingly. “I will look back in later this evening to see how the herbs may be working. In the meantime, I shall show myself out.”

  It was decided that Georgiana and Jane would stay with Mrs. Wyatt for the time being, while the other four ladies left to refresh themselves. They were then to meet in one of the smaller sitting rooms on the first floor. In a couple of hours, two of them would take their turn at the bedside, and the exchange of responsibility would continue throughout the remainder of the day and into the night if need be.

  When the four friends met again in the sitting room, they shared a knowing look and then burst into peals of laughter.

  “Oh, Lilly, I know I should not be laughing, but the look on William’s face when he came into Elizabeth’s bedchamber was nothing short of pure guilt,” Aunt Eleanor chuckled almost clucking like a mother hen.

  Anne looked at her and responded in a conspiratorial tone, “I have long thought that the two of them would suit admirably, but there is, well there is something happening between the two of them that I cannot fathom”

  “Well, do not leave me in suspense! Tell me all, since it seems that we have a lot to discuss about my Lizzy and your Darcy,” insisted Aunt Lilly as she settled in a chair close to her friends.

  As Anne recounted how Darcy’s daughter had practically demanded to go to Elizabeth and described Elizabeth’s literal unconscious reaction to the little girl, Lilly was stunned. “That your nephew’s daughter called Lizzy ‘Mama’ and Lizzy responded by telling her ‘Mama is here’ and called her ‘Darling’ is hard to believe,” responded Aunt Lilly.

  But then Aunt Eleanor recalled how Elizabeth’s son had reacted to Darcy. “Eleanor,” Aunt Lilly recounted, placing one hand over her chest as she reached over the arm of her chair with the other, “that has to be the most amazing thing I have ever heard. Thomas was only a little over three months old when his father died. He never had a chance to know him at all.”

  “Lilly, Anne Elizabeth has NEVER seen her mother. She died almost immediately after giving birth,” interjected Aunt Eleanor.

  Anne gently pushed and rubbed her back into the chair as though nesting before she looked from Aunt Eleanor to Lilly to Charlotte. “Well, I, for one, am most anxious to see where this all leads.” As they all exchanged glances and nodded their heads in agreement, she continued almost to herself, “It would make me more than content to see the two people I care for as though they were my own brother and sister find happiness with one another.”

  Just as Anne finished speaking, the butler announced Colonel Fitzwilliam, resplendent in his red coat, white trousers, tall black boots, and military comportment, as he strolled into the sitting room. “Richard,” Anne smiled as she rose from her seat along with everyone else except for Aunt Eleanor, and extended her hand toward him, “how good it is to see you.”

  “And you, Cousin,” responded Richard promptly taking the delicate hand in his own much larger, calloused and work-hardened hand, and kissed the back. “I came looking for Mother, but I did not know that you had taken up residence at Darcy House as well. What brought you from Rosings Park?”

  Leaning slightly toward him and speaking in a lowered voice that was still audible to everyone, she stated, “Elizabeth Mills.”

  “Ah, so Mrs. Mills must be the reason that Mother is here as well,” he replied, finally taking notice of the other two women in the room.

  Anne promptly turned him toward the others as she ran her hand down the side of her gown, “Richard, I am so sorry. Where are my manners? Let me introduce you to Mrs. Lilly Gardiner, aunt of Elizabeth Mills, and Miss Charlotte Lucas, my companion.”

  As Richard bowed to each of the ladies in turn, his eyes lingered a moment longer on Charlotte, something Anne subtly noted. “Well, Cousin,” inquired Richard, “do you mind if I join you ladies?”

  Anne nodded her head and sat back into her chair, while he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, but close to where Charlotte was sitting. “I had come to call on Darcy,” he explained, “but Mrs. Wyatt tells me that he is unavoidably detained at this time.”

  He looked quite unsettled as the ladies all looked from one another then burst into laughter trying to hide their mirth behind hands raised hastily to their mouths. Once they had collected themselves, his mother began to tell him the nature of Darcy’s confinement and the myriad of other odd occurrences that had taken place throughout the day. When she had finished, he was laughing as well.

  Still smiling, he crossed his legs and placed one hand on his knee as he turned toward Charlotte and asked, “And how long have you been a companion to my cousin?”

  “Not quite two years,” responded Charlotte, looking directly at him and not lowering her gaze, while a touch of colour pinked her cheeks. “We were introduced shortly after Elizabeth and Jerome visited with Anne at Rosings Park.”

  Seeing the surprised look on his face, she explained the nature of the relationship, “Elizabeth, Mrs. Mills, and I grew up together, on separate but neighboring estates, in Hertfordshire. She is the one who told me that Anne was seeking a new companion. Fortunately, we suited well, and here I am.”

  “And I am glad,” he uttered aloud. Realizing immediately that he had let slip his inner thought, he quickly added, “That you were able to accompany Anne to Darcy House to assist your childhood friend.”

  Although his recovery was quickly made, his slip of the tongue was not missed by anyone in the room. Aunt Eleanor practically glowed with the possibility.

  Smiling as smugly as her aun
t, Anne was so happy that she thought she might burst. She and Elizabeth had talked quite a bit about Charlotte. Through Elizabeth, Anne knew that Charlotte had more than once admitted that she feared what her life would be should anything happen to her father. And Anne also recalled Elizabeth having said that Charlotte repeatedly insisted, “When it comes to being romantic, you know that I am not.”

  But Elizabeth strongly believed Charlotte used that saying to cover her disappointment about not ever having been considered for matrimony by any of the men in Hertfordshire. Charlotte was pretty, but not what one would call beautiful. She was also intelligent, and though not as well read as Elizabeth, quite above the intellectual level of almost all the men who might have pursued her in her home county.

  When Charlotte had agreed to become her companion and at Darcy’s suggestion, Anne had contacted Mr. Grove, a solicitor with an extensive knowledge of the law regarding protection of assets held by women. She offered Charlotte £50 per month, covered all clothing and any possible travel expenses, and set up a settlement in the amount of £10,000 as a “retirement from service” to be paid when Anne died.