In the Arms of Mr. Darcy

by Sharon Lathan

  “No. He said that Mr. Darcy, for all his wealth and station, is not a peer of the realm so the strict rules do not apply as forcefully. ‘The son of Viscount who will someday inherit the title,’ he stated flatly, ‘must rise above the petty whims of desire. Honor and duty must prevail.’ I hoped that the bewitching Mrs. Darcy, accepted and venerated by all, would soften his attitude. Alas, no.”

  “I am sorry, my friend. Would that I could help, but you know I am in the same predicament. Luckily, I am not of a romantic nature.”

  “I never particularly thought myself so either, but a sparkling pair of eyes and dainty dimples changed all that.”

  “Not to mention a lush figure.”

  “Don’t be vulgar, Nash. Miss Bennet’s figure, although enticing, was not the draw and you know it!”

  “Of course not. It was her multitudinous accomplishments, keen intelligence, and stellar connections.”

  Falke glared. “Are you trying to make me angry?”

  “Only reminding you of what you already know. You said yourself that you could not argue his reasons. Miss Bennet is a delight, we all agree on that Falke, but for marriage? It was never going to happen, and I think you have always known that.”

  “I prayed her charms would overrule the deficits. None of those matters bother me, and I would be the one married to her, so why should it disturb my father?”

  “Again, you already know the answer to your question. And do not be so sure her ‘deficits’ would not come to annoy. Can you seriously imagine marriage to a woman of little intelligence and fewer accomplishments? A country girl with no knowledge of what would be required as Lady Gresham? I think you would be bored and disappointed within a year.”

  “Do you think me so shallow, Nash?”

  “Not shallow, but the fact that you are not ranting and raging against your father, or mutinously scurrying off to Gretna Green, means you are unsure of your own heart. I know you well, my friend. You are a stubborn man who does not normally buckle easily.”

  Falke resumed his gaze of the landscape. In all honesty he knew that the words of both his father and Thomas Nash were right. His affection for Kitty Bennet, although real, was evidently not so intense as to defy his entire family. He envied Darcy who had been master of his own life and able to act on his wishes.

  He sighed sadly, eyes closing in true regret, voice mumbled when he spoke. “How shall I ever face her disappointment?”

  Nash was surprised. “Have you extended any promises? Surely you were not so foolish!”

  “No, no. But she knows of my regard and is not an idiot. She even allowed…” He glanced sheepishly at the other man, swallowing audibly before continuing, “We kissed, in the garden, several times. Nothing else happened!” He added vehemently at the sudden leer on Nash’s face. “Miss Bennet is a lady! Halt your insidious thoughts!”

  And as he spoke the protective phrases, the memory of how vigorously Miss Bennet had instigated the kisses flashed through his mind and was guiltily squelched. His initial shock at her coquettishness and brazen advance had been rapidly replaced by pleasure in her kisses. Never would he betray her trust in him or harm her reputation, no matter how inappropriate her actions may be in the eyes of some. Falke had only looked upon her zeal as a testament to her attraction to him, a thought that was more than a little satisfying to his ego!

  But he knew now that the union was destined to fail ere it had begun, and it broke his heart.

  ***

  The summer holiday at the Nash country house was passing quite pleasantly for all the guests. Graceholm Hall was a luxurious manor, primarily of Tudor style architecture blended synchronously with Gothic influences, sprawling with numerous wings and hundreds of rooms. Surrounded by acres of rolling green fields, lush gardens, orchid plots, sparse woodlands, and tiny streams, the area was bursting with diversions. Lady Alicia’s declaration of guests arriving and departing randomly, and in large numbers, was not at all an exaggeration. The two months the threesome would spend there was probably the longest of any other visitor, most staying for a week or two at most before roaming on to dwell at another friend’s home. Such was the way of the aristocracy and wealthy during the languid summer months before the rains and cold of winter prohibited easy travel.

  Entertainments of all varieties, both indoor and outdoor, were so plentiful to almost be overwhelming. Long hours in the cool shaded patios or well-ventilated parlors were spent in gay conversation, board and parlor games, and so on. Afternoons picnicking by the river, or strolling through wooded lanes, or horseback riding, or playing lawn games was essential. Evenings and late nights of dancing, attending local theater or musical events, performing dramas and concerts for each other, lively literary readings, and carnivals was the daily cap. These amusements were interspersed with excursions to the horseracing track, markets and fairs, football and other matches, museums, and special functions.

  The constant influence of female and male companionship of all ages during that short interval would forever be marked as another ascending step in Georgiana’s maturation. Like her brother, she would never be considered a gregarious character. But the months-long barrage of stimulating conversation and activity added to the frivolity and socialization during the Season in London acted as fertilizer to her hidden nature. Lizzy was not at all surprised to see her shy sister-in-law’s blossoming. She had recognized instantly the identical sharp wit and extemporaneous humor in Georgiana that her husband possessed. Darcy would eternally present a stoic face to the public; his proclivity for laughter and absurdity a well-kept secret only know to his dearest intimates. Georgiana was similar, but not to the harsh degrees of her brother. The mature Georgiana who returned to Pemberley that fall would never again be the tremulous, blushing, inarticulate creature she previously was.

  Yet, as profound as the alterations to Georgiana, they would pale in comparison to how Kitty was affected by her summer stay.

  Initially, she was the proverbial child let loose in the candy store! The majority of the recreations were of a type never seen by her or participated in. This fact, however, inhibited her not in the least. Kitty did not seem to comprehend the notion of making a fool of herself, and if a few of the more haughty guests looked askance or quipped with sneering phrases, she was oblivious for the most part. The young men were utterly charmed by her vivacity and most of the young women found her amusing. But it was the attention of Mr. Falke that overrode all else.

  Quite simply stated, Kitty was in love.

  The mild attraction and playful flirting from the Masque rapidly evolved into full-blown infatuation within days of Mr. Falke’s appearance at Graceholm Hall. By the end of a month, Kitty was overwhelmed by emotions unique and never imagined.

  “Have you ever been in love, Georgiana?” Kitty’s mumbled question was shyly offered as the two walked arm-in-arm along the graveled path between the fragrant rows of orchids.

  “Considering the only unattached men I have been exposed to for the past several years are my brother and cousin, it would be unlikely, would it not? I suppose you are referring to Mr. Falke?”

  “Yes.” She sighed heavily. “Oh Georgiana! He is so wonderful! Unbelievably handsome with stunning dimples! My stomach flutters whenever he smiles at me!”

  “I do not think that is adequate proof of true love.”

  “No, no. Of course it is more than that! He is kind, sympathetic, wise, mature, charming, droll, adorable, sweet…”

  “All right!” Georgiana interrupted with a jolly laugh. “I understand now! He is perfection incarnate and you are enchanted. Has your Apollo totally swept you away and declared for your hand?”

  “Not as yet, but I am confident he shall.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  Kitty halted, glancing about to ensure they were alone, leaning nearer to Georgiana and whispering, “He has expressed his affection with the utmost clarity. And last night, when we stole away from the concert, we kissed by the river!”


  Georgiana was not nearly as shocked as one would expect. Over a year of observing her brother and his wife in secret clinches had abundantly opened her naïve eyes. Furthermore, the blatant flirting and ardent glances between Kitty and Mr. Falke were noted by all, with widely varying reactions. Georgiana was sincerely happy for her friend and her feminine, romantic sensibilities were stirred.

  “Oh, Georgiana! It was divine!” Kitty closed her eyes in remembered delight, her face radiant. “He is divine! I have never imagined how wonderful love can feel!”

  “Did he articulate his affection verbally or are you basing all your convictions on the strength of his kisses?”

  “Georgiana! You are a tease! And, yes, he did more than just kiss me. He said he wished always to be with me, that I was dear to him, that his greatest desire was to take me to Chapel-en-le-Frith, and more! I am so happy. And Mama will be thrilled!”

  Georgiana laughed, steering along the walkway. “Yes, I am sure she shall. Mr. Falke is an excellent gentleman and shall be a fine husband.”

  Kitty sighed, face yet brilliant with the essence of love, but suddenly introspective. “It is odd, Georgiana.”

  “What is?”

  “For as long as I can recall Mama has spoken of little else but the necessity in securing a worthy husband. I can hardly remember a day when I did not notice men, especially handsome ones, gazing upon them not as individuals, but as prospects. We flirted outrageously, Lydia and I.” She chuckled, shaking her head in embarrassment. “I can only imagine how utterly ridiculous we must have appeared! Of course, such coquettishness and charm dazzled Mr. Wickham and earned his love for Lydia. I, however, am thankful for the influence of you and Lizzy. Oh, I know I am not proper! But I do believe I can assert that Mr. Falke loves me for myself. Do you think this is true, Georgiana?” She halted, turning to her silent companion. “Georgiana? Whatever is the matter?”

  “It is of no moment, Kitty, truly. Tell me what else Mr. Falke said.”

  “You pique my curiosity, dear friend. I have noted that whenever Mr. Wickham’s name is mentioned a shadow passes over your face. I know Mr. Darcy has a poor opinion of Mr. Wickham, and I once saw Colonel Fitzwilliam grimace with disgust when the name was spoken, but am beginning to suspect you think ill of him as well. Pray, what is the history between you three?”

  For a moment Georgiana’s heart constricted, the familiar shame and pain of Wickham’s betrayal piercing through her soul. Then, to her astonishment, the sensations rapidly dissipated. In that fleeting second as she walked sedately to the stone bench nearby, she realized that she no longer felt hatred or humiliation. In fact, sitting with a jolt of amazement, she could not even conjure a clear picture of his face! Those eyes that she remembered drowning in had no clarity of color. Was he tall? No idea. The tone of his voice? Unknown.

  She released a cleansing giggle, lifting a hand to Kitty and pulling her onto the bench beside. “Very well, Kitty, I will tell you.” And she did. The only other person she had ever related the entire sordid tale to was Elizabeth. Even William did not know all the false words spoken by Wickham or the foolish actions of his gullible sister; Georgiana needing the comfort he abundantly offered at the time and too ashamed to ever reveal completely. Now she told Kitty, but with nary a trace of the bitterness or mortification generally felt, and none of the tears shed in Elizabeth’s arms. It was somewhat like relating a story one had read about, as if the misfortune had struck some other girl in a faraway place. Georgiana actually discovered herself laughing at some of the more ridiculous pronouncements of Wickham’s. The whole incident was a million years ago, as far as Georgiana was concerned.

  But Kitty listened and was shocked. “I had no idea Mr. Wickham was such a scoundrel! Even Lydia running away with him I thought romantic and daring, an adventure that I envied. What a fool I was! I am beginning to understand the depth of my ignorance of the world.”

  “And men. Oh Kitty! Are you sure Mr. Falke loves you? I could not bear to see you hurt. Losing someone you love, or even think you love, is horrible. I have seen it, experienced it. Please be sure he cares for you!”

  Kitty smiled, patting Georgiana’s hand placatingly. “Do not fret so, dear Georgiana. All will be well. Ere the year is complete you shall be dancing at my wedding, I am certain of it!”

  ***

  Two days later, Mr. Falke and his parents would leave Graceholm Hall and Kitty would never see him again.

  Her last conversation with him, her only conversation in the days following her gushing proclamations to Georgiana of love felt and returned, took place the evening before his abrupt departure. His elusiveness in the intervening hours saddened Kitty, her heart of love desiring his presence, but she suspected nothing untoward as the surfeit of social activities frequently conspired to keep the sexes apart. It was not until dinner that she began to suspect something was amiss.

  He evaded her gaze from his seat ten guests away, somberly picked at each course, dialogue with those surrounding was minimal, and his father watched him with a stern glare. After the obligatory segregated post-dining amusements, the genders came together and naturally drifted into clusters based on age. Humor was high, as always, few aware of a nervous Mr. Falke and increasingly alarmed Miss Bennet. Just when Kitty thought she would burst into frustrated tears, Mr. Falke eased to her side and with a light touch to her elbow steered her toward the shadowy balcony.

  Instantaneously Kitty’s spirits lifted. Never remotely fathoming that whatever was disturbing her love could have anything to do with her, she determined to erase his gloom with a repeat performance of passionate kisses. But instead of guiding her to the dimly lit pathways beside the tree-lined edges of the river, he stayed to the wide, moon-bathed lane beyond the parlor balcony. Conscious of the need to be clear of eavesdroppers but within sight of parental eyes, Mr. Falke opened the conversation with words devastating to Kitty.

  “Miss Bennet, I regret that I must inform you that I shall be departing Graceholm Hall on the morrow. My father has estate duties to attend to and requires my assistance. I know this is sudden, and pray your understanding.”

  “Oh! I… that is, will you be returning soon?”

  “I fear not.”

  “Then… Will you visit Meryton? I will be returning home in two weeks and shall wait patiently for your presence. I know my father will adore you and be quite pleased by your attentions.”

  “I cannot say I shall visit Meryton, Miss Bennet. Do forgive me.”

  “Anthony, I do not understand! Why are you so formal? I have been ‘Kitty’ to you for weeks when we are alone. You are worrying me!”

  “I am truly sorry, Miss Bennet, but this is for the best.”

  “What is for the best? You are making no sense!”

  “Lower your voice, please!” He hissed, glancing toward the empty balcony and moving further away from the house. “Please, Miss Bennet, control yourself. A scene is improper.” He glanced into her face, looking rapidly away from the bewilderment found there. “I have come to realize that our relationship is merely one of friendship. We must endeavor to accept this. It would not have worked out, Miss Bennet, trust me in this.”

  “But you said you loved me,” she whispered. “You kissed me and said you wanted to be with me forever. Were these lies, Anthony? Is that the kind of man you are? Is it?”

  “No, God help me, but no!” His mask of rigidity slipped and he clasped her hands, leaning close. “I am sorry, Kitty. But there is no future for us.”

  “You are being ridiculous, Anthony! Of course we have a future together! We love each other and that is all that matters. Now, stop this playing and let us walk by the river. I know how to cheer you up.” She lifted to plant a kiss to his cheek, but he evaded, stepping a pace backward.

  “You are mistaken, Miss Bennet. Our time together has been a pleasant diversion and no more. I regret that you assumed otherwise, but I will be leaving tomorrow and…”

  “Why? Tell me why, Anthony. I deserve
an explanation! I love you! Do you not realize that? You cannot just leave without talking to me!”

  He was anguished. He could not tell her the truth: that her family was unacceptable, her wealth inadequate, her station inferior, and her accomplishments insufficient. Better to increase her hatred of him than wound her by insulting all she held dear.

  With a monumental effort he stiffened, tightening his face, and chilling his voice. “The explanation is simple, Miss Bennet. I allowed my human desires and failings to overwhelm me. Like a foolish adolescent I indulged in the pleasures to be found in a charming, beautiful woman. I alluded to sentiments I do not feel. I pray that you can someday find it within your heart to forgive me for acting in an ungentlemanly manner, but I do not deserve it. I fear that is all I can offer you.”

  “Anthony, please…” Kitty sobbed.

  “I wish you well, Miss Bennet. Good-bye.” He bowed curtly and then turned, briskly striding away and feeling every inch the louse his false words evinced.

  Kitty stood stunned, tears flowing down her cheeks, the moments stretching in agonizing clarity as he walked away. “Anthony,” she breathed, “please, I… I love you. I… Anthony! No! I love you!”

  The stasis broke, her voice rising hysterically, sobs gushing and choking the exclamations, steps stumbling after the heartbreaker she still loved. Kitty was beyond coherent thought, emotions wild as the pain engulfed.

  Firm, loving hands reached for her, grasping flailing arms and halting her forward momentum. “Kitty! Be still. Come with me, dear. People are watching.” Georgiana pulled gently toward the concealing trees, Kitty weeping and shaking.

  ***

  The emotions and fate of Mr. Falke remained unknown to Kitty. Her future life would not circle anywhere near his, and she never asked of his situation. Initially, this may have been due largely to anger and pain, but in time her aborted romance with Mr. Falke would follow the identical path to Georgiana’s unfortunate liaison with Mr. Wickham. Time heals all wounds, as the old proverb suggests.