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

by Karen Wasylowski

  He looked first at Fitzwilliam, whose head had shot back with laughter at his aunt’s remark. Mr. Bennet liked Fitzwilliam immensely, admiring his disarmingly easy manner and gentle wit.

  He cast his gaze at his son-in-law, who had become a constant source of friendship and strength to him. It was evident now that the proud, arrogant man Mr. Bennet had feared would dominate his beloved daughter had never really existed at all. In reality, Darcy was a well-read, educated gentleman, and more importantly, someone who adored Lizzy, providing her with a happy, secure home.

  He looked across at Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, normally shy and modest away from her brother’s side. She was relaxed and laughing heartily here, a reclusive beauty emerging in their midst.

  Finally, he looked to his side at his beloved Lizzy, happier than he had ever seen her. What a shame her mother could not be here with us, to see that our daughter is so blessed. He felt suddenly overcome with the grief of his recent loss.

  “Mr. Bennet,” called Aunt Catherine. “No introspection is allowed at table this visit. There will be no serious thought tonight in deference to the youngsters with whom we find ourselves. We would not want to call attention to their intellectual inferiority in any way. We are family and will enjoy the time we have together, for too quickly it can be taken from us.” Aunt Catherine looked meaningfully at him. She understood the devastation in losing a spouse, no matter how tenuous or difficult the relationship. It was half of your life that would never return.

  “My very thoughts, Lady Catherine,” replied Mr. Bennet after a moment’s pause.

  “Tell me, Mr. Bennet, how can we amuse you during your visit? Do you hunt?” Lady Catherine was spooning her turtle soup, blowing delicately to cool it.

  “No, Lady Catherine, I am afraid I do not,” Mr. Bennet replied, also sampling his soup. “I am certain an animal would sooner die of laughter than gunshot wound if I even made the attempt.”

  “Excellent, excellent. I abhor blood sports of any kind, animals being far superior to many people of my acquaintance.” She selected a small roll and broke it, dipping it deftly into her soup.

  “Charades? Do you enjoy charades, Mr. Bennet?” Motioning to a footman, she signaled him to clean up the crumbs that had mysteriously appeared around her plate after she broke open the roll.

  “Unfortunately, I detest them, your ladyship.” Mr. Bennet nodded when asked if he would like more soup, and his wineglass was again filled. “More often than not, I shout out the answer so that I can return to my seat and then feign embarrassment at my faux pas. With my advanced years, younger people usually assume me to be lack-witted and forgive me.”

  “Wonderful. Very clever.” She was beginning to warm tremendously to her guest. “Anne thinks they are absolutely ludicrous, and I am in complete agreement with her. Even though she would be an excellent player, if her health would permit it.”

  They all glanced over at Anne, who blushed at the attention being shown her and then spit something she could not chew into her napkin.

  “Cards, Mr. Bennet? Do you play cards?” Lady Catherine was pointing energetically to him with the leg of a small capon. “Answer this correctly, Mr. Bennet, and we have the promise of an exceptionally enjoyable two weeks ahead of us.”

  “I am afraid, your ladyship, that I tend to drift off while playing cards. At least I make a concerted effort to, and then I deliberately snore very loudly in the hopes that I will be thought enfeebled and asked to retire early.”

  Lady Catherine was overjoyed. “Thank heavens. Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have the perfect houseguest in our midst, and I was afraid this was going to be a taxing two weeks of nonsense. Now we can just relax and do whatever we want. I, for one, plan to read, eat, and sleep, hopefully not all at once.”

  Mr. Bennet relaxed visibly. “I believe I know now why Lizzy loves this family so well.”

  ***

  Darcy had little prepared Lizzy and Mr. Bennet for the quality of service and the quantity of food served. There was at least one attendant for each person at table, and a stream of servers coming and going with all variety of removes—exotic meats and strange vegetables, out-of-season fruits, and generous libations. There was even a string quartet in attendance, playing at the far end of the room.

  Mr. Bennet watched amazed at the carefully orchestrated ballet of service. If they were not so professional, he could easily have expected flying trays and dropped puddings, he mused.

  “Darcy, I see you two have the imperial apartments up there in the golden tower. Quite an improvement, or so I was informed by your valet.” Fitzwilliam had finished up his meal and was leaning back in his chair. “While you are dreaming happily in the suite usually reserved for royalty, try to keep in mind that I am located over the poultry house. It is just as you remember, I am sure—thumbscrews, the rack, chains on the walls. You both must come and visit me there once the ice lining the hallway thaws. Bring a physician.”

  Lady Catherine was unsympathetic. “When you finally marry—and you will marry, Richard, even if I have to drug you—you also will have the use of one of the larger suites. Until then, you will have to make do with the rooms you have always occupied.” She leaned over to feed pâté to several of the whimpering dogs who had gathered at her feet. “I’m not made of money, you know.”

  “Well, I was thinking, dearest Aunt, that since I am now a famous and decorated war hero, you would feel obligated to accommodate me with one of the grander suites, a suite befitting my new stature and popularity.” Fitzwilliam grinned devilishly at his aunt, who was summoning her faithful retainer, Jamison, to her side. She handed the man three of the dogs, one at a time.

  “Well, I am surprised, Fitzwilliam. I am truly surprised.” Catherine motioned for the fruits and sweet desserts to be brought in by the waiting footmen.

  “What surprises you—that I would attempt to capitalize on my newfound fame in order to upgrade my rooms?”

  “No, my dear, merely that you were thinking.”

  Amidst the groans and the laughter, Catherine raised her hand to protest. “No, I am quite serious, Richard. One hears such shameful reports about the conduct of our army, and you and your little flock of associates in particular were most scandalous.”

  “Yes, Cousin,” beamed a mischievous Georgiana. “There were some very outrageous incidents hinted at in the papers. One in particular I always wondered about—did your officers really smuggle in ten opera dancers disguised as French prisoners?”

  The shocked and discomfited look on Fitzwilliam’s face made Darcy light up with amusement. He had heard the story two years before over an entire night of drinking when Fitzwilliam was home on leave. “Yes, old man, please tell us the story of the ten opera dancers.”

  Fitzwilliam shot him a daggered look. “It was not ten!” he declared, incensed. As they all waited in silent suspense for his further explanation, he exhaled a disgruntled breath. “All right, all right. There were only eight of them, and it was not as unseemly as you imply, brat!” He squirmed at the laughter now incapacitating them all and looked away, fighting his own laughter. In point of fact, it had been worse than unseemly, it had been downright debauched. The women actually were common Portuguese whores disguised as French prisoners, had been paid by a pool of money collected in a hat passed by him and his fellow drunken officers (eager to take advantage of the women’s generous holiday rates) and then, to the accompaniment of their giggles, the women had been used as dinner plates. He vaguely remembered a drunken moment in which he was eating fried eggs and kippers right from within a naked woman’s…

  “He’s blushing!” Elizabeth was delighted. “Oh my goodness, Richard, please enlighten us!”

  Knowing what had happened, Darcy was in heaven. “Oh yes, Richard,” he mimicked Elizabeth’s high-voiced excitement. “Please enlighten us.”

  “This is not now, nor ever could be, dinner conversation!” He began to bluster with his embarrassment. “You are making me out to be some sort of
deviant, and that could not be further from the truth! We lived in ungodly conditions and suffered horrible deprivations…”

  “That must have been those times when the Duchess of Hanover was not renting a nearby villa in some quaint Spanish town. I heard you saw quite a bit of her…” Catherine’s eyes were like slits. “…and still do.”

  Georgiana wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. She’s such a peahen.”

  Darcy was laughing, his eyes dancing with delight. “Lord save me, I had not heard of this. And where was the duke during these encounters?”

  Elizabeth nearly felt sorry for her cousin-in-law, but not nearly enough. She turned to Georgiana instead for the gossip. “Is she the one with the really large”—she hesitated, raising her hands briefly before her chest—“inheritance?”

  Mr. Bennet stared in wonder. They may have been the bluest of the blue bloods, among the most aristocratic of aristocratic families, but a true family they were, with all the fights, teasing, suspicion, and retribution inherent in the word. It was definitely a family that was insane, but whose family was not?!

  Georgiana, joining in the raucous laughter surrounding her, suddenly became uneasy when she realized her aunt was intently watching her. Catherine’s concerns often shifted quickly and without warning.

  “Georgiana!”

  “Yes, Aunt Catherine.” Georgiana jumped to attention, turning toward her imposing aunt.

  “Should you not have made your presentation by now?”

  “Yes, Aunt Catherine, however…”

  “You must be nearly thirty-seven, I should think. Never tell me you have not been brought out yet.”

  Darcy came to her rescue. “Aunt Catherine, Georgiana is but nineteen. We decided to wait an extra year because of Elizabeth’s mother’s passing and the baby being due.”

  “Also, I am a bit shy and truly didn’t feel really ready before this year.” She gulped and stared nervously at her aunt. “I am not overly fond of crowds, you see.” Huge understatement, that.

  Darcy and Georgiana’s eyes met. They had discussed this moment, but her knees still wobbled. He smiled his encouragement and nodded. The time had finally come, and there was no avoiding the unavoidable. “Aunt Catherine.” Her voice crackled a little, and she began to blush. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes before proceeding in her sweetest voice. “Dearest Aunt Catherine, would you be so kind as to sponsor me?” Georgiana, having finally blurted out her request, glanced momentarily to Darcy for reassurance. The barn door had officially been thrown open.

  Catherine looked up, stunned that it was even a question. “Why, yes, yes. Of course.” She blustered and rocked back and forth in her chair. “Who else in this room could possibly qualify as your sponsor?” Although she tried to look nonchalant, a small tear ran down her cheek.

  Catherine had only two unfulfilled dreams in her life. One was to plan the grandest society wedding ever for her daughter and nephew at St. George’s Cathedral. The likelihood that her daughter, Anne, would marry, now that Darcy was taken, was remote at best. She had swallowed that bitter pill and learned to live with it.

  Her other dream was to present her daughter at court and preside over her coming-out. Anne had been too sickly all her life for either. Over the years, Catherine watched as her friends, one by one, had presented their daughters and then their granddaughters.

  Finally, one of her dreams would be coming true.

  Georgiana jumped up and ran to her, threw her arms around Catherine’s neck and hugged her. “This will be a most wonderful year. I just have a feeling about it,” she declared to everyone at the table as tears moistened her aunt’s eyes. “There will be a new baby in the family, my presentation at court, finally, and…” Georgiana looked devilishly at Fitzwilliam. “Perhaps if we are very lucky, a bride for my cousin!”

  Everyone toasted this proclamation—everyone except Fitzwilliam, who very dramatically turned over his glass to the cheers of the men and the indignant squeals of the women.

  ***

  After dinner, when the ladies left the men to their cigars and port, Lady Catherine turned her attention to answering any questions concerning pregnancy and childbirth she believed Elizabeth must be anxious to ask her. As she was opening her mouth to speak, they heard a raucous burst of laughter coming from the male threesome remaining in the dining room.

  She stood for a moment and stared curiously at the door. “It is so very odd. That always happens when Fitzwilliam and Richard entertain the men after dinner. I hope I have enough port set aside; it is something that they certainly seem to enjoy so.” She sat back down and removed several pages of script from her ample bosom. “Now, Elizabeth, I have written down my beliefs concerning this time of your pregnancy, all of which I will give you to take home. I have knocked about this world much longer than you have, and since, thankfully, your mama is no longer around, I want you to feel free to inquire of me anything that may be concerning you at the present time.”

  Lizzy stared blankly at the woman, her mind a tumble of terror.

  “Go ahead. Ask away. Speak freely. Never be shy.” Catherine’s smile quickly began to go grim. They stared at each other for several moments. “Elizabeth, are you deaf or merely dumb?”

  “Thank you, Aunt Catherine, for your concern. You are very kind, but I assure you I have no questions.” She bent her head over her ever-present book, praying that the inevitable discussion to come would be brief and somehow not humiliating. Or that a comet would fall from the sky and come through the roof.

  Lady Catherine scowled. Lizzy was nearly five months pregnant, already quite large, and without a mother’s guidance, even a mother as odious as the late Mrs. Bennet. “No need for such courteous regard for my sensibilities, dear. I give you my wisdom freely.” Taking Elizabeth’s hand, she proceeded to launch into a long list of mother-to-be dos and don’ts, making especially clear all her thoughts and opinions on fresh air and exercise while with child (she was totally against them both, the reason being that the child’s limbs and lungs were much too small and thereby would too easily tire), on eating large amounts of fresh fruit and vegetables while with child (again, another problem in that they produced poisonous gas within the system, infecting the unsuspecting unborn), and on getting plenty of sleep while with child (positively the worst thing one could do, as that it placed the child in awkward positions for long periods of time that could cause facial disfigurement).

  Also strictly forbidden were excessive laughter and spicy foods and any sort of physical expression of emotions, especially marital obligations.

  “I suspect that it must frighten the baby, you know, all that bouncing and moaning and such. And then there is the problem of that protuberance repeatedly going in and coming out, going in and coming out, going in and coming out…” She rolled her eyes, all the while ensuring that Georgiana and Anne were not listening. After one or two seconds, she motioned Lizzy forward again, whispering very gravely into her ear, “At least that’s what the earl and I decided when I carried Anne. In retrospect, however, it may very well have frightened the earl more than the babe.”

  Lizzy stared at her for several seconds, her lips twitching. “Thank you, ma’am,” was all she could finally squeak out.

  Chapter 12

  It was turning into a horror of a night. There were room-rattling booms of thunder and frightening light flashes, both competing with the rain that slashed across her windows. Catherine heard and saw none of it, her mind occupied solely with events of the past. Though not quite an old lady yet, she was well on her way, or at least that was how she felt on nights such as these, the nights she sat alone with her memories.

  She had more memories now in her life for company than realities, so she often would revisit her youth and what she considered her “useful” days. Just now she was thinking back to the summers and springs and autumns when families thought nothing of caravaning halfway across England and Scotland to visit, loaded with gifts and servants and dogs and children.

&
nbsp; She smiled, remembering all those children, especially her two boys, so different from each other and yet boon companions, mischievous, competitive, and loyal as brothers. She laughed softly. Had there ever been a time they were together that was not disastrous for her?

  She loved those boys fiercely, especially Darcy, as if he was her own, and perhaps he would have been if she hadn’t chosen the path of prestige over love. She rarely admitted to regretting anything in her life, but that decision, in retrospect, had possibly been a mistake.

  There was a soft knock on her door. “Come in,” she called, dabbing away any trace of her melancholy.

  “I wanted to say good night,” Darcy said as he entered, closing the door behind him. It had been his lifelong nightly ritual when in residence to visit her before he retired. He looked sleepy but happy. Even with his hair tousled, without his jacket or cravat, he looked magnificent.

  “Is everything all right? Is Elizabeth settled?” She reached out her hands to him.

  “Yes, everything is perfect. She’s rather overwhelmed by your kindness to her and to her father. I am, also, by the way. Thank you, Aunt Catherine.” Darcy took her hands and, after kissing them both, he sat next to her on her settee. He tucked his aunt’s arm through his own.

  “Well, I behaved rather badly before. I do freely admit it, but only to you. I will deny this to anyone else. I was so very disappointed, you see. I had really come to believe that you and Anne would marry one day.”

  “I always told you we would not, though. Neither Anne nor I wished it. Why did it come as such a surprise?”

  “This may come as quite a shock to you, Darcy, but I can be a very stubborn, opinionated person.” She immediately raised her hand between them in order to deflect any protests to which he would certainly give voice. He remained aggravatingly silent.