The Portrait of Elizabeth

by Jane Angwin

  As he continued walking through the cottage, he noticed Penelope's collar, and he vaguely recalled seeing her roaming about Pemberley, but usually sitting on his mother's lap. He also recalled the day that his mother told him that Penelope had gone to heaven, and he recalled that she and his father had taken the carriage somewhere to bury her. "They must have brought her here," he thought. "I wonder if her grave is marked nearby."

  There on the dining table he found a vase of dead flowers, probably from their last visit to their cottage. He lifted the dead petals from the vase and carefully placed them in a book that he found next to a large chair where he imagined his father sat to read. He looked at the title of the book and had to laugh, as the subject was the advantages of rotating crops from season to season to make better use of the land. "How like my father to be thinking about the running of the estate, even while here in this idyllic setting." He could imagine his father sitting comfortably in the chair with his feet perched on the small ottoman that sat nearby, his glasses low on his nose, fully engrossed in his book, while his wife quietly embroidered the pillows for their bed on the settee next to him. "What a beautiful place to share the silence and comfortable companionship of true love," he thought. "Perhaps someday...." he muttered aloud, but stopped as he once again thought to himself that such a deep love could only lead to sorrow.

  He suddenly felt a light brush of air on his face, and once again he smelled the all too familiar scent of lavender that belonged to his mother. Knowing that the lavender scented pillow remained in the bedchamber, it couldn't be attributed to that, and this reoccurring strange experience puzzled him. Looking around the room he said aloud, "If you have led me to this place, Mother, I will treasure it as you did." He felt a little strange talking out loud to his departed mother, but it also comforted him to think about her promise to him as she lay dying. She had promised to watch over him from the afterlife, and while he knew it was impossible, he still felt that somehow she was there with him.

  He took the book with the dried flowers and after taking one last look around, he reverently opened and closed the door behind him, as if it was a sacred place. He put the book in the bag attached to Omega's saddle and decided to walk around the cottage to see if he could find Penelope's grave. It didn't take long to find a small pile of rocks, undisturbed after all these years, with dried flowers tucked in the crevices of the stones. Among the rocks he also noticed a particular one that appeared to be in the perfect shape of a heart. "She is still here, Mother," he said to no one. "Penelope is still here." He walked past the small grave and picked a few yellow flowers that had grown wild in the woods, placing them gently on the rocks. He felt a sense of pleasure at doing so, and he vowed to come back here again someday. He rode away, feeling that he had found a place where he could come to feel the presence of his parents and regain strength when he became drained and needed courage to go on.

  Chapter Nine

  Colonel Fitzwilliam

  Darcy refused to leave Pemberley for the season for several years. He could not leave his responsibilities, and he could not imagine going through the sham of attending balls and being the target of desperate mothers, pushing their daughters toward him, hoping to have the handsome and wealthy Fitzwilliam Darcy choose them as his bride. It was a ridiculous exercise, and he wanted no part of it. He much preferred the quiet of the country and the comfort of his home to the stiff and spurious society of London.

  His only regret was that his sister was quite alone with just him as company and the loving attention of his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds. She had been there all throughout his childhood, and she served as a surrogate mother to him during his mother's illness and subsequent death. She was loyal and kind, and without her, Darcy did not know how he would be able to care for his sister while attending to the weight of replacing his parents in every other way. There was an occasional visit from their cousin, Richard, when he took leave from his regiment, and Georgiana loved him dearly. The Colonel was a jovial man, inclined to looking at life with a wry humor, and he made Georgiana laugh. Darcy had forgotten how to laugh, and Richard's visits to Darcy House were a much needed diversion.

  Richard was the second son of the Earl of Matlock, and thus was not afforded the same rewards as his elder brother, Edmund. The second son did not inherit the title or the estate upon the death of the father, and he either lived a life of boredom and meaningless pursuits, or went into the church or law, or as in Richard's case, the military. Richard knew that with his gregarious personality and love of wine and women, he was not meant to go into the church or the law, and he opted instead to go into the military. He denied the opportunity to have his father purchase his commission as many second sons did, but instead he went in at the bottom and worked his way up through the ranks on merit alone. He had seen combat on the continent, and after many brutal maneuvers with his fellow soldiers, his bravery and skill had earned him his rank of Colonel. Darcy knew that his cousin had many bad memories of those experiences as he never wished to discuss it. He also knew that he had experienced the brutality of war and had the deep scars from serious wounds he had received. When asked about those times, he made light of what had happened, but he was secretly having nightmares, reliving the sight of the bloody bodies of the young men he commanded that died on the battlefield.

  His wounds had been so severe that it was thought he would die, and yet, he survived and returned to England. He was highly recognized by the Crown for his bravery and duty to his country, but much to his dismay, due to a deep wound received in his left arm and another in his leg, he had lost the strength required to hold a sword, and he had a noticeable limp. Much to his dismay, he was assigned to an undemanding job training young recruits to practice for battle before they were shipped across the sea to France. "I feel punished rather than rewarded," he often complained. "I am nothing more than a babysitter to these excited youngsters, and I know not how to impress upon them the seriousness of what they face. They thrust their swords about atop their horses and look at war as a game they will play with only victory in their minds," he related to Darcy one day at White's, their gentlemans' club. "I have done everything I can to instill some seriousness in them regarding the task ahead, including showing them the ugly gashes on my body, but they consider them badges of honor." Rubbing the long scar on his left thigh, he continued "They wouldn't feel that way if they could barely raise themselves from their bed in the morning." He grimaced and shook his head. "There are days I wish I hadn't survived these wounds."

  Darcy winced, quickly reprimanding him and telling him he did not wish to hear such talk. "It is a miracle that you did survive, Richard, and your family and I are extremely grateful to have you back in one piece, albeit a bit battered. I recognize that you have constant pain and bad memories that live within you, but you are my closest friend and the brother that I never had, and to have lost you would have been to lose the only person who tells me what a horse's ass I am when I most deserve it."

  Richard laughed aloud, causing others in the room to look around at the two men who were obviously enjoying each other's company. "Be careful, Darcy, I may have to say something equally flattering right now, and that would never do!" The cousins talked and stayed long enough to have another round of brandy, and then decided to return to Darcy House. As they neared Grosvenor Square, they complained about the oppressive heat inside the carriage and wished to walk the rest of the way home. While they walked, Darcy noticed the limp that Richard tried to hide, and he slowed his gait to accommodate his friend. "Do not slow on my account Darcy. I am not an invalid." To prove his point, he quickened his step, but after a few minutes, he slowed and stopped. "Bloody Hell," he exclaimed. "I fear I have tried to show off, and I have failed miserably in my blasted attempt!" He laughed, but Darcy knew it was not because he thought it was amusing, but rather to hide his embarrassment.

  "Richard," Darcy said. "We are not in a competition, and I am just glad that you are walking on two feet. I care not if
you can run a foot race with me." They slowly ambled across the square and upon entering Darcy House, Richard informed Darcy that he would stay for dinner. Darcy was glad that Richard felt that he could consider his townhouse a place to come and feel at home. They went to Darcy's study and Richard walked straightaway to Darcy's private liquor cabinet and poured another glass of brandy. "Thank you, old man," he said. "Just what I need after a brisk walk with my cousin, the horse's ass!" He sat down in his usual comfortable chair and put his feet up on Darcy's desk.

  "Take your feet off my desk, Richard," reaching across the desk and pushing them off. "Have a little respect for my furniture." With that, Darcy poured himself a short drink as well, and they conversed until dinner.

  Richard's mother and father were delighted that he was no longer facing the battles of war, and they hoped that he would find a woman with a large dowry and settle down. Second sons had to depend on the dowry a woman brought to a marriage in order to have money to live on, and although Richard was a handsome man with good lineage, he found the women who were both eligible and wealthy were less than desirable to him. "Why should I settle for one biscuit when I can have the whole tray?" he always joked with his mother. "I see no reason to settle down when I am able to come and go as I please without explaining my destination or time of return to some nagging woman."

  His mother knew that it was hopeless trying to find a bride for him, and she just frowned and shook her head. "Richard," she always replied, "Whatever am I to do about you? Your brother, Edmund will be married and having grandchildren for me, and you will be out in the pubs playing darts and drinking ale, associating with the wrong kind of women. I cannot approve of your lifestyle, son. One day you will tire of this and be sorry that you didn't listen to your mother!" Richard would just wink at her and give her a kiss on the cheek. "And when that day comes, Mother Dear, you can say 'I told you so, Richard'," ending the conversation that they would undoubtedly have again and again.

  It was entirely different, however, when it came to discussing Darcy and his choice of a bride. Alexander and Edith Fitzwilliam treated Darcy as if he was their own son after the death of both of his parents, and they had no interest in allowing him to remain a single man like Richard. They felt that it was his responsibility to marry a lady of fine breeding and wealth and to provide an heir for Pemberley. They had introduced him to many eligible ladies that they deemed suitable, but he could not bring himself to show any particular interest in their choices. He knew that his mother wanted him to choose a woman only for love, and he argued for that, but they would not hear of it. "That just isn't done in our sphere, William," Edith declared. "Your Uncle and I were introduced to each other by his father and we married shortly thereafter to enhance our families' status. We have done quite nicely, don't you agree?"

  Whenever the conversation came up, Alexander would become furious at Darcy for not understanding the importance of his standing in society and the magnitude of Pemberley's esteemed reputation. "You must not play with these ridiculous ideas about love and romance, young man. You have a different path than my wayward second son, and it is time to accelerate your search for a wife." Richard winced when his father called him "wayward", but he knew it to be true. Unless he found a woman of wealth, he could not support a wife. "Society expects much of you, Fitzwilliam, and you dare not make a mistake and marry the wrong woman. I know how you feel about marrying your cousin Anne, but you could do worse, you know. Her estate and wealth would make you one of the wealthiest men in all of England. She is sickly and may not be your idea of a blushing bride in your bed at night, but you can always have a mistress for those pursuits."

  "Alexander, mind your mouth please!" Edith implored. "Some marriages of convenience also work out well in the area of the bedroom!"

  Richard groaned and begged his parents to change the subject. "I do not wish to hear about your night time activities. I may be a grown man, but you are my parents and the vision you are conjuring up is more than I can bear at this moment. Let Darcy work this out himself. He knows his responsibilities, and he will do the right thing at the right time."

  Darcy glanced at his cousin and silently thanked him for his support and for hopefully bringing the conversation to a conclusion. It wasn't the first time they had broached the subject, and he knew it certainly wasn't the last time, but he just didn't have it in him to argue with them anymore. The debate within him comparing the requirements of his Aunt and Uncle to his mother's advice to marry only for love constantly raged inside him, and it was just easier for him to do nothing at all. Being a single man for the rest of his days and leaving the responsibility of providing an heir for Pemberley to Georgiana seemed preferable to him. "I will travel the world doing whatever I wish, and I will be the eccentric uncle to her children, doting on them and relating exaggerated stories, bringing them strange things from the foreign lands I visit." He chuckled at the thought, and he hoped that no one noticed. After their invective, he would always thank them for their sage advice and for looking after his future with their love and kindness, but he would excuse himself and go home, putting their stipulation out of his mind until the next time.

  After dinner, Richard and Darcy returned to the study. "So, Cousin," he said, lightly hitting him on the shoulder, "You are more dreary tonight than ever. This tedious behavior is getting quite old and tiresome. What say you to a trip to Matlock with Georgiana to visit my mother and the Earl? They are there for the summer and it is quite near Pemberley."

  "I have no interest in going to Matlock with you to have you and your parents goad me into finding a wife to lift my spirits. I have no interest in having your mother flaunt ladies in front of me, and attending balls that she would undoubtedly hold in my honor."

  "Well you have it right, old boy." Mother has it in her mind to find a woman for you so you don't rot away as an old man with no heir to take over Pemberley."

  "Why doesn't she concentrate on you instead, Richard? You have been leading a bachelor's sordid life of debauchery and isn't it time for you to settle down yourself?"

  "Not you too," he said. "Mother has been hounding me to settle down for as long as I have been out of leading strings!" Darcy laughed at the image of Richard in leading strings. "Why in the world would I want to do that?" he laughed. "I have my choice of lonely widows, and in many cases, bored wives of old boring men! My life is one to be envied, and I certainly see no reason to be tied down to one woman. Mother has given up on me, and she has decided to now focus on you instead. You owe it to her to at least try to show some concern for her matrimonial inclinations. Now that my brother, the Viscount is married, she has nothing else to occupy her time!"

  "Yes, how is Edmund these days?" Darcy asked. "I cannot imagine that his arranged marriage to Elise Carlisle is a pleasant one."

  "You are certainly right about that. She chased him from one end of England to another until her parents met with Mother and Father to propose a very profitable match. Edmund had no voice in the matter, and he entered into the marriage quite reluctantly. Elise spends most of her time in her family's London townhouse when they are in the country, and Edmund rarely visits her there. He must produce an heir for Matlock, so he has to visit her from time to time, but she is a pretentious woman with only gossip and society on her self-centered agenda, and having a child does not seem to be high on her mind." Richard sat down in one of Darcy's chairs in his study, and asked "Now where is another bottle your good brandy? I believe we finished off the last one before dinner!"

  Darcy moved to his bookcase and pushed in an unassuming volume, revealing several bottles of spirits inside a section of fake books that swung out. "My father had this made when my mother made him stop drinking so much Port," Darcy quietly laughed. "I shouldn't show it to you, come to think of it! I will have to find another hiding place." He pulled out a bottle of cognac and took two snifters out of his desk drawer. They enjoyed another drink together, both starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, reminiscing about whe
n they were boys together and how George Wickham had caused so much misery for them. He always seemed to involve them in his mischief and trickery, and he had managed to pin the blame on them almost every time.

  "If I ever see that blackguard again, it will be too soon," Richard said. "I have heard rumors of him in London, cheating at cards and running up debts. There are many other men who would throw him into debtors prison if they could find him. I would not hesitate to do it myself, or even worse." He pretended to thrust a sword toward an invisible foe.

  "And I would assist you," Darcy said as he swirled the cognac around in his tumbler and looked up at Richard. "But putting him in debtors prison and not the other ridiculous idea you suggest. I have no plan to be tried as a murderer." He thought for a moment and changed the subject. "What do you think about hiring a companion for Georgiana and giving her a small trip to Ramsgate for some diversion? She has been cooped up here with me, and she needs to breathe some fresh sea air instead of the heat and gloomy air of London. I have promised my friend Foxworth a visit soon, and this would be the perfect time for her to get out of the city."

  "I heartily agree, cousin," Richard quickly responded. "She is now fifteen, and I think a journey on her own would be good for her. Let us begin looking for a companion for her. It will be good to have a woman for her to confide in. Just be sure to find a home with a piano to keep her out of the sun. Knowing Georgiana as I do, she would walk to the seaside every day, and that would not do for her fair complexion."

  The men agreed to make the arrangements, and they went to Georgiana to tell her of their plan.

  Chapter Ten

  Ramsgate