So Long, Sentiment

by Amber Allen-King

  "I had no idea of your interest in me ten years ago," the Colonel said as he nearly bumped into, then ducked under the offending branch. "Of course, you were still a little girl then and not really worthy of notice."

  "Oh? And exactly when did I become worthy of your notice?" Olivia demanded. The Colonel stopped to carefully consider his answer.

  "It was about two years ago, I think--the night I danced with you at Mama's Christmas Ball."

  "Two years ago? And it took you that long to speak?" Olivia asked in disbelief.

  "Ten years ago, madam? I might ask you the same question," the Colonel returned the challenge.

  "Ten years ago I was barely eleven and hardly in a position to attract the notice, not to mention the affections, of a Cambridge man."

  "Ten years ago you did capture the affections of a Cambridge man," the Colonel retorted with a smile. "His affections, however, have rather matured since then."

  "As have I?" Olivia smiled sweetly, but the Colonel knew better than to answer. "So what took you so long? Once I became worthy of your 'mature' notice, I mean." The Colonel again carefully weighed his words. This was not the day to start a row.

  "On that night, I held you in my arms and for the first time saw you as a woman." He smiled at the remembrance. "It was a bit overwhelming...Crenny's little sister, all grown up. It took a while for it to sink in and still longer to realize that I had fallen for you. Of course, at the time, I was not yet ready for marriage, and I could hardly have supported a wife..." Colonel Fitzwilliam looked up then, but far from returning his ardent gaze, Olivia was surveying the prospect from the top of the hill. The sun was making inroads in its battle with the morning mist that still shrouded much of the Matlock estate. Olivia was entranced by the pastoral beauty of the scene; nonetheless, she turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam and demanded to know why she had been "invited" on his predawn hike.

  "I wanted you to see our new home," the Colonel replied in a slightly hurt voice.

  "I saw it two days ago! You walked me over every inch of the estate, remember? Are all of your family great walkers or are you an exception?" Olivia grabbed the Colonel's arm and bent over to look at the damage incurred by her lightweight boots. "Probably something you picked up in the army," she muttered as she picked up as stick and attempted to remove a large clot of mud from the toe. "You men are always walking everywhere," she murmured, as the Colonel smirked at her. When she had done and stood up again, Colonel Fitzwilliam placed his hands on Olivia's waist and turned her toward the west. She was about to make another comment, and then caught her breath as she saw her new home seemingly rising out of the mist. She saw the large cottage, its well-manicured gardens, the orchards, the outbuildings, and beyond them all, acres of lush green land. Olivia put her hands to her mouth and smiled. The scene before her was awe-inspiring. As she looked at the lush green fields, the tidy house, and saw the horses being let out into the corral, Olivia saw her future before her. When the Colonel drew her closer to him and whispered in her ear, she was startled.

  "Well? Do you like your new home, madam?" Olivia, tears in her eyes, nodded.

  "It is beautiful," she whispered. Olivia turned and hugged the Colonel for a long moment, then released him and started back down the hill.

  "Where are you going?" the Colonel cried, as he scrambled after her, fearing that something was wrong.

  "I want to get home and get ready for the ceremony," Olivia called as she hurried down the hill at an alarming clip. She nearly took a tumble, but the Colonel caught her in time.

  "Slow down, my love. The wedding is not for hours yet!" the Colonel said, moving ahead of Olivia so that he was in a better position to protect her from harm. "What is your rush?" he laughed.

  "The sooner we are married, the sooner we can move into our new home, and the sooner we can begin our life together as man and wife." The Colonel's smile grew as he pondered her point. He turned and carefully led Olivia to the base of the hill.

  "I have been thinking about what you just said," the Colonel began as the couple walked hand in hand along the level path.

  "And?" Olivia asked. Instead of answering, the Colonel took off at a run, and the couple made its way back to Matlock Hall in half the time it had earlier taken them to walk the distance. Upon her return to the house, Olivia left Colonel Fitzwilliam at the bottom of the grand staircase and made her way up to her room unseen, save for one footman who was decidedly disinclined to take notice of a wild-haired young lady in mud-splattered clothing sneaking into the house with the Colonel on the morning of his wedding. Talbot was no gossip, even if his mates would have gladly paid to hear of the young master's escapades. Olivia tiptoed past Elizabeth's door and found her own. She entered her room and gently closed the door so as not to make a sound. She therefore nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice behind her.

  "Where have you been?" Elizabeth asked from the bed, where she had apparently made herself comfortable.

  "What are you doing in here?" Olivia managed to say when she found her voice. She held her hand to her panting chest.

  "I believe I asked you first," Elizabeth replied archly.

  "I was with Richard." At Elizabeth's shocked expression, Olivia quickly amended her statement as she tugged at her disheveled hair. "We took a walk. He said he wanted to show me something." Elizabeth crawled out from under the coverlet and crawled to the end of the bed, where Olivia had unceremoniously deposited herself.

  "It was nothing that could not--or should not--have waited until after the ceremony, I trust?"

  "Lizzy!" Olivia cried, as she blushed at the implication. Elizabeth immediately began to laugh.

  "What did he show you? And was it as my mother described?" she teased. For an answer, Elizabeth was nearly smothered with a pillow.

  "He took me to see a lovely view of Matlock Glen and our new home from the top of the hill behind the house. It was truly breathtaking, Lizzy." Elizabeth stared at her doubtingly. "Wait until you see Pemberley," Olivia said.

  "Have you ever been there?" Elizabeth asked with great interest.

  "Yes, many times, many, many years ago when we still lived in Derbyshire."

  "Livy, did you ever think you would come back here? As a wife I mean...in your wildest dreams, did you ever dare to think that you would one day marry the son of an earl and be settled on one of the finest estates in Derbyshire?" As Elizabeth spoke, Olivia began to realize how surreal it all seemed to her friend. Olivia had had every expectation of marrying well--her situation disposed her to it--and though the disparity in their circumstances was great, it was not so great as to prepare Olivia for Elizabeth's apprehension.

  "Lizzy, you are not having reservations about marrying Mr. Darcy, are you?" she asked.

  "About marrying Fitzwilliam, no...but it all seems so strange. The first time you lay eyes upon a man it never enters your head that you will marry him one day. That certainly was the furthest thing from my mind when I met Fitzwilliam." Olivia's mysterious smile taught Elizabeth that she was of quite a different opinion.

  "The first time I saw Richard, he had come home from college with my brother and stayed with us for several weeks. I took one look at him and declared him the man I wanted to marry. I was absolutely infatuated with him." Olivia laughed. "I as much as confessed that to him a few minutes ago."

  "How come I never knew of this 'infatuation'? I thought we had no secrets from one another!" Elizabeth pretended to pout, and Olivia patted her cheek in mock sympathy.

  "You and I were not yet acquainted. I was still a girl in Derbyshire and Richard was a Cambridge mate of my brother's. You," and she smacked Elizabeth with a pillow for emphasis, "Were still an unruly brat who climbed trees and got into 'perilous adventures' behind your Mama's back."

  "Oh dear," cried Elizabeth. "We do have no secrets! But seriously, Livy...did you really know he was the one?"

  "I was eleven! I knew nothing except that Richard Fitzwilliam was divine. I silently worshiped him for six weeks, u
ntil he returned to college. Then I did not see him for a few years. The next time I saw him, I was fifteen, he was a dashing young captain, and I could not get anywhere near him for the hoards of young ladies who constantly surrounded him. He barely knew I was alive, and when he did deign to acknowledge me, it was only as the sister of a dear friend." Olivia felt anew all the frustration of her disadvantaged status, which was quickly replaced by her present knowledge of her fiancé's heart.

  "When did that change?" asked Elizabeth, warming to the tale.

  "According to what Richard told me this morning, two years ago. He said that when he danced with me at his family's Christmas Ball, he realized for the first time that I was all grown up," Olivia beamed as she recalled the moment, not a half hour earlier, when Colonel Fitzwilliam held her in his arms and revealed the moment he fell in love with her, sort of. She wished now that she had not been so distracted by the scenery. There was so much more she wanted to ask him, and even more she wanted to tell him.

  "Livy?" Olivia blinked and came back to the present. She blushed at Elizabeth's amused expression.

  "Now it is your turn, Lizzy," she said, as she bent to remove her soiled garments.

  "I have already told you everything about my relationship with Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth protested.

  "Perhaps, but you have never told me of your first reaction to him."

  "I have told you. I found him arrogant, conceited, rude--."Olivia turned to her with a sly smile on her face.

  "Before that."

  "I did not know him before that evening," Elizabeth replied innocently, but Olivia pressed further.

  "I did not ask if you knew him. What I am asking has nothing to do with knowing him." She leaned closer so that they met eye to eye. "I asked about your first reaction to him. Before you decided you hated him. Before you knew anything of him. What were your impressions at the first sight of him?" Elizabeth blushed deeply.

  "I...."

  "Yes?" said Olivia to Elizabeth, who couldn't seem to raise her eyes.

  "He struck me...well, I thought..." She glanced up at Olivia, who had her arms crossed and was waiting none too patiently.

  "Admit it. You thought he was gorgeous. You thought--."

  "I did not! I...I did remember thinking that he was handsome...very handsome..."

  "Liar! You will not even admit it to yourself, will you! Richard and I knew it even before we saw the two of you together!" Elizabeth furrowed her brow. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with Olivia's line of inquiry.

  "What are you talking about?" Olivia started to pounce again, but she suddenly relented and smiled benignly.

  "You and Mr. Darcy fell in love at first sight." Elizabeth began to protest, but Olivia kept right on talking. "I know all about it. He insulted you that first evening and you hated him for it. But admit it, Lizzy, you did fall for him immediately, otherwise you would not have cared one jot what he thought of you. You took one look at Mr. Darcy and had the same visceral reaction that he did, only the two of you were far too stubborn to admit it even to yourselves." Elizabeth began another weak protest, but Olivia's notion was far too interesting to discard.

  "Fitzwilliam told me himself that he did not fall in love with me the first time he saw me."

  "Of course not. He did not fall in love with you until he really looked at you, and you did not fall in love with him until you really looked at him. But when the two of you looked at each other, sparks flew to be sure. And," she added as she sidled up closer to Elizabeth, "Long before then, that first night at the assembly, you took one look at Mr. Darcy and swooned, just as did every other girl in the room, did you not?" Elizabeth could not resist the temptation to turn the tables on her friend.

  "Are you asking this out of mere curiosity, or are you simply confessing some unspoken attraction for my future husband?" It was Olivia's turn to blush slightly; she had always thought Mr. Darcy to be among the handsomest men in England. However, she was all the more determined to make Elizabeth admit it.

  "I want you to confess that you were as interested in your Mr. Darcy the moment you laid eyes upon him as I was in my Richard." Elizabeth merely smiled enigmatically. In a last desperate effort to secure a confession, Olivia resorted to a more effective tactic: she renewed her assault with the pillow, and in seconds, Elizabeth's defenses crumbled.

  • • •

  A knock on Mr. Darcy's door startled him out of a waking dream. He quickly mumbled a command to enter, but instead of being greeted by his valet, he looked up into the beaming face of his cousin.

  "It is time you were out of bed, Darcy. We have preparations to make," said the Colonel as he strolled over to the window and drew apart the drapes. Mr. Darcy crawled out of bed and joined his cousin at the window.

  "What are you so bloody cheerful about?" he asked as he secured the knot on his robe. Colonel Fitzwilliam stared at his cousin incredulously.

  "Why should I not be cheerful? It is a beautiful morning and by the end of it I will be a very happily married man. I daresay," he added with a nudge to Mr. Darcy's ribs, "Tomorrow I will be an even happier one." Mr. Darcy blinked and glared at the Colonel. Mr. Darcy always hated seeing the Colonel first thing in the morning. He was always so relentlessly cheerful. Mr. Darcy was a habitual early riser himself, but he could never match the Colonel's mood. Mr. Darcy preferred to confront each morning soberly and learn to be cheerful as the day wore on. However, this morning, Mr. Darcy found the Colonel's good spirits infectious and very soon the two men were chatting amiably about the coming nuptials.

  "I cannot believe that Miss Crenshaw could be convinced to do such a thing," Mr. Darcy remarked when the Colonel told him of his visit to what the Fitzwilliams had always called the "Big Hill."

  "You underestimate my Miss Crenshaw," Colonel Fitzwilliam said proudly. "She has as much spunk, wit, and energy as your Miss Bennet. I suppose that is why they are such good friends." Mr. Darcy eyed the Colonel thoughtfully.

  "Tell me, Fitz," he said. "What do think of Elizabeth?"

  "I think Miss Bennet is absolutely delightful, and I am very happy that the two of you have finally found your way to this day. I cannot think of anyone better suited to you, cousin."

  "And if we had not 'found our way'? Would you have pursued her?" Mr. Darcy asked out of curiosity. Colonel Fitzwilliam was not certain what his cousin was driving at, but he tried to avoid the obvious trap.

  "You must remember, Darce," he said with a forced laugh, "I was spoken for before you and Miss Bennet--."

  "No, no, I realize that. But if your Miss Crenshaw did not exist, and I was 'out of the picture,' as they say...would you pursue Miss Bennet?" Colonel Fitzwilliam shifted his feet uneasily.

  "I think any man given such an opportunity would be a fool not to," he admitted, hoping he had neither betrayed his vows to Olivia nor injured himself in the eyes of his best friend and closest relation. "Tell me, Darce. Were the situation reversed, would you pursue Miss Crenshaw?" Mr. Darcy paused and thought for a moment.

  "No," he shook his head. "Your Miss Crenshaw is lovely and charming," he began, smiling self-consciously as he had ever since the Colonel's remark several months earlier. "But she has never inspired me as Elizabeth has. Besides," he added. "She has always preferred you, and that is a character flaw I could never tolerate." The men chuckled good-naturedly. "Fitzwilliam, did you ever think that you and I would stand at the altar together?" Mr. Darcy asked wistfully, still staring out the window as the Colonel headed for the door.

  "Never," replied the Colonel with a wink, "I never dreamed of asking for your hand." He closed the door quickly as the pillow was launched at his head.

  "Bingley, do not attempt to convince me that you were not nervous on your wedding day," Mr. Darcy said, self-consciously shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

  "At least my hands were not quivering like the leaves on the trees outside," Mr. Bingley retorted, but Mr. Darcy snorted derisively.

  "If your hands were not shaking it wa
s because I did such a good job of holding you upright and still. I did not want you swooning at the altar."

  "I did not swoon!" Mr. Bingley insisted. "I had merely tripped entering the church," he added defiantly.

  "Exactly how does a man manage to have both his knees buckle as he trips over a mote of dust anyway?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. He was sprawled in a chair in the small waiting room with the other men of the wedding party. His brother John chuckled at the memory of Mr. Bingley's 'accident' at the church as the Colonel nonchalantly examined first one, then the other immaculate cuff of his shirt. On the surface at least, he appeared to be as calm as his cousin was anxious. Mr. Darcy glanced at the Colonel and resented his self-possession.

  "So, old man," the Colonel continued. "Have you any sage advice to impart? After all, you are a married man of some--."

  "Seven weeks," Mr. Bingley volunteered.

  "Six weeks, three days--do not exaggerate," the Colonel corrected him. Mr. Bingley squinted and tried to confirm the Colonel's calculations. "Well, that will keep him busy for some time. I daresay we will not learn anything from him, Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled.

  "You might ask me," John offered. Mr. Darcy paused in his pacing as the Colonel turned an appraising eye on his brother.

  "You? You are a wizened old veteran of five years of marriage--quite useless, I am afraid."

  "Useless?" exclaimed the Viscount.

  "Gemma has you trained to come to heel like a favorite hunter. Darcy and I have no intention of following your example, thank you very much." The Colonel looked at Darcy for confirmation, but his cousin was too absorbed in wringing his hands. The Colonel rose and went to peek into the chapel, where the pews were rapidly filling up. He closed the door and turned to watch his cousin's perambulations. "What are you so worried about, Darce? Your Miss Bennet cannot escape. The property is far too large and she has no transport," he smiled. Mr. Darcy rose to the bait.