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

by Karen Wasylowski

  “I’ve no idea. I haven’t opened the letter yet, as you can well see.” Lizzy was disappointed at the thought of not being able to get outside in the morning air, and her mood had shifted to definite crankiness. “Why do you care if I read the letter from Jane?” Yes, she definitely was in a bad mood.

  He looked up at her patiently. “I care because she is your sister, and you love her. That is all. If you do not wish to read it, it is your concern alone.”

  Immediately regretful, she caressed her husband’s cheek in mute apology then turned her back for him to rub. “I think your son has landed on my spine,” she said softly. “Forgive my testiness, but I hate that you feel distress about me so much.”

  He leaned down and kissed her neck. “I myself may be a bit at fault and will try to restrain myself in the future, I promise. Just let me know whenever you need anything…or whenever you do anything…or whenever you want anything, so I can be there with you.”

  Elizabeth privately rolled her eyes then turned to smile sweetly up at him, pointing once more toward her back. Almost as soon as he began to massage her, the maid entered. The bashful young girl waited patiently for him to finish. “Please help your mistress get ready for bed,” he said and dropped a kiss on his wife’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few moments.” He walked into their bedroom and then into his own dressing room and closed the door. The letter marked urgent, which he had received from Bingley, sat on a tray. He picked it up and read it again.

  Dear friend,

  Would it be possible for you to come to Netherfield Hall as soon as possible? Please tell Elizabeth nothing. This is of a somewhat private nature, a very personal problem. Forgive the secrecy, but something has come up that may be important.

  Yours,

  Charles

  He was impatient to learn if Elizabeth had received some further explanation in the note from Jane, and concerned that whatever its contents were, they would bring stress to his wife. But in the end, he decided to wait and not press her. The last thing he wanted now was to cause Lizzy any anxiety or concern. Her pregnancy was taxing them both to the limits, and they still had four months left. Four months, kill me now, God. He sighed and shook his head. If there was a problem, which must have been the case, else Bingley would not have even suggested keeping something from Elizabeth, he would quickly find a solution. But it would be best if he could evaluate it first.

  For Darcy, not to be in full possession of the facts was pure hell. The knowledge that those facts could in any way distress his beloved wife was unacceptable in the extreme. I hope I can help with what’s to be done, whatever Bingley’s problem may be, he reasoned. But I will protect Elizabeth and our child before anything.

  Chapter 14

  Lizzy awoke the next day to a bright and beautiful morning, her husband already up and dressed, sitting at the desk in their room, writing a note. “Oh good, you’re awake.” He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her tenderly. “How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked, thinking to himself that she looked very drained.

  “I feel a bit tired.” She squinted back at him through sleepy eyes.

  “I was just leaving you a note. Fitzwilliam and I are off for the morning to check on some timber problems. I have arranged for you to have your breakfast brought up here, and I would like you to spend this entire morning, at the very least, in bed and resting. Is that understood?”

  Groggily nodding, she scratched her ear then lifted herself up on her elbow, foggy about what she had just agreed to and even where they were. She pushed her hair back to look blankly about the room and shrugged. “Yes, your lordship.” She plopped her head back down on the pillow. A loud, indelicate yawn caused her husband to laugh.

  “That’s my girl,” he said, kissed her, and was off.

  ***

  Within an hour of his departure, Lizzy was up, dressed, and downstairs, ready for breakfast. “Lizzy, I had heard you would be staying abed today.” Her father was surprised to see her in her walking shoes. He and Lady Catherine were sitting alone at the breakfast table.

  “I cannot imagine why you would think that, Father, especially on a beautiful day such as this. Good morning, Aunt Catherine.” Lady Catherine smiled broadly at Lizzy. “I believe William was somewhat concerned about my swollen feet, but as it happens, they are quite acceptable today, so I am going out.”

  “Well done, Elizabeth. I don’t approve of lying about, nor would I allow unnecessary swelling in any part of my body, especially feet—very bad for the posture. There is no profit in assigning physical limitations upon oneself or in behaving as if one were an invalid. My own daughter, Anne, would have been a great exercise enthusiast if it were not for her own large feet. Quite threw off her balance.”

  “Elizabeth, where are you off to?” Lizzy’s father began to rise, seized by a growing panic at being left behind.

  Lizzy thanked the footman who set her breakfast dish before her and then grabbed several pieces of toast. “I thought I would cross the park and visit Charlotte Collins to see her new little one. Won’t you join me, Father? I am sure our cousin, Mr. Collins, will be there, and it must be ‘interesting’ to hear his ideas on child rearing.” Lizzy smiled at the apparent relief on the face of her father.

  “Of course, I have provided Mr. Collins with all of his ideas, including those on child rearing. It is best not to leave that sort of business to new parents. Anne and I will join you.” Mr. Bennet’s eyes crossed. Although Catherine de Bourgh had proved a much more enjoyable companion than expected, the thought of both her and Mr. Collins within the same room was more than anyone could be expected to endure.

  “Are you not awaiting Fitzwilliam and Darcy to return with their observations from this morning’s inspection? And then, of course, Darcy still has to finish his notes from the other night.”

  “You are absolutely correct, Elizabeth. My, your vigilance toward Rosings is most admirable. Yes, I am sure that Fitzwilliam and Darcy will both want to get my input into whatever their observations are. I am afraid, Horace, that you will have to proceed without me.”

  A visibly relieved Mr. Bennet quickly regained his composure. “What a great disappointment this will be to Mr. Collins and his good wife.”

  “Of course it will be, the poor dears. However, they will join us tomorrow for dinner. Make sure they know this. I so hate disappointing those beneath me, you know.”

  ***

  Mr. Bennet deeply regretted not remaining at home with Lady Catherine. He felt miserable and trapped and duped by the fates. In his arms lay Charlotte’s wriggly baby, Everett, a happy, rambunctious infant who was at the moment enthralled with Mr. Bennet’s nose, attempting to force his little fingers inside. In fact, they were all feeling miserable and trapped, obligatory listeners as they were to the Reverend Mr. Collins’s rapturous description of darling Everett’s latest bowel movement.

  Everett was an incredibly beautiful child, much to everyone’s surprise, except for his adoring parents, of course. “He is my life and my joy, Lizzy,” Charlotte whispered. “He has made everything worthwhile.” With that said, she glanced meaningfully at her husband and then back at her boy. “How are you feeling, Lizzy? You look exceptionally tired today; are you getting enough rest? You know this childbearing is not as easily accomplished as we thought as young girls.” Charlotte and Elizabeth were snatching snippets of conversation the moment the reverend turned his back. At this time, he was reaching for a shelf behind him, searching for his Bible.

  Lizzy grinned and hastily whispered back when Mr. Collins turned his head to sneeze several times from his allergies, “I am feeling fine, Charlotte. However, I do find I am often in possession of not only titanic feet but also a baby suddenly leaping about whenever he hears his father’s voice.” Charlotte and Lizzy giggled toward the floor.

  After a few more minutes of Mr. Collins’s monotonous monologue, he suddenly closed his eyes and raised his hands in deep supplication to the Lord. Lizzy leaned toward
Charlotte. “I also have had some very troubling dreams that have caused me to wake in the middle of the night. That tires me more than anything.” Charlotte stared deeply into her friend’s eyes, sensing a troubled spirit.

  “Mr. Collins, could you and Mr. Bennet please excuse us? Forgive me, dear, but I must have a private moment with Elizabeth.” Mr. Collins looked reprovingly at his wife, unhappy with this interruption of his personal address with God, while Mr. Bennet gamely attempted to rouse himself from a trancelike stupor.

  Charlotte took her baby from Lizzy, patting and kissing the child’s head as it nestled happily into her shoulder. At her husband’s continued silent reproof, she pronounced the sentence that no man on earth can withstand. “I am truly sorry, dear,” she whispered, “but it is regarding female trouble.” Mr. Collins’s face drained of all color. “Female trouble,” she mouthed once again, nodding.

  With that, both Mr. Collins and Mr. Bennet quickly waved them off, avoiding at all costs any possibility of eye contact.

  Alone outside in the sunshine and peace of her garden, Charlotte laughed softly. “I tell you, Lizzy, that is the most useful phrase I have learned as a married woman. No man seems to want to know about female trouble.”

  Laughing, Lizzy made her way slowly to a secluded bench.

  “Now, what is this about bad dreams? I find that most interesting. I know I had many dreadful nights when I was carrying Everett.”

  Lizzy hesitated at first but then confided to her friend about her concerns with Caroline Bingley and Darcy, hinting broadly at their relationship years ago. She said she sometimes found herself dreaming of them together, or of her strangling and disemboweling the meddlesome redheaded witch, slicing open her throat or gouging out her eyes. Charlotte’s eyes opened wider and wider with each description of mayhem.

  “Well, that is rather serious, I suppose. Oh, but, Lizzy, you cannot really believe that Darcy would betray you. He is so much in love with you that he would never consider hurting you, and it is not in his character to deceive.”

  Lizzy smiled as she leaned her head back, letting the sunshine wash over her for a moment. “Oh, be honest, Charlotte. Don’t you think it is within everyone’s character at some point to deceive? Whether it be for good intentions or bad is the telling point, but I do agree that he would never deliberately hurt me or disgrace his family.”

  Charlotte sensed, however, that the idea of Caroline and Darcy still bothered Lizzy. “Didn’t Jane say that Caroline was involved with someone? I had the impression she was almost engaged.”

  Lizzy snorted. “‘Almost’ is never as good as ‘is’ in my estimation. Also, ‘engaged’ is not nearly so fine as ‘married.’” Elizabeth became more and more animated as she continued. “And ‘married and settled on another continent’ is best of all. Besides, Caroline’s been ‘almost’ engaged more times than any other woman I know.”

  ***

  By midafternoon, Darcy and Fitzwilliam were already waiting in the reception room for Lizzy and her father to return.

  “Compose yourself, brat. Did you really believe you could just command her to stay home and she would?”

  Darcy looked bewildered, affronted. “Yes, of course I did.”

  “Good God.” Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Well, it’s your head, Darcy. It was splendid knowing you.” Hearing Elizabeth and her father in the hallway, he left quickly.

  “Hello, dearest. Was that Richard rushing off? How odd. Oh, we had such a wonderful visit with Charlotte, and her baby, Everett, is glorious. Such a beautiful child emerging through the services of such a father—who could have imagined…?” Lizzy’s voice trailed off when she saw the look in Darcy’s eyes.

  “Could you excuse us, please, Mr. Bennet? I wish to speak privately with my wife.” Sensing trouble, his father-in-law was already making a hasty retreat.

  Lizzy’s eyes were huge as saucers and innocent as a newborn. “Whatever is the matter, William?”

  “You know perfectly well what the matter is, Mrs. Darcy.”

  The certainty of this remark slowed her in her short waddle over to a seat. “No, I definitely do not, Mr. Darcy, else I would not have asked.” Now riled by his rudeness, she plopped down primly, raised her chin to stare boldly up at her pacing husband, and impolitely kicked one after the other of her shoes to the side.

  For a moment he just glared at her then stooped to pick each up. “I believe I told you, madam, to stay in bed and rest.” He pointed directly at her with one of her shoes. “Your legs were very swollen and sore last evening. Am I mistaken in this?”

  “Evidently, you are unaware that my legs and feet are much better this morning.” Pulling up her skirt, she stuck her feet straight out for his perusal. Lizzy congratulated herself on the graciousness of her reply.

  “And what of the staircase, Mrs. Darcy, that gloriously lethal block of greased suicide? Perhaps now you will tell me you had a footman assist you down the staircase, as I instructed you to do?” He loomed over her, his hands fisted at his waist, her shoes now badly mangled. “And do not bother to lie to me, Elizabeth. I have already asked.”

  She blinked her eyes rapidly, caught in his trap like a rat. “I walked very slowly and carefully, and held onto the banister.” She hated him when he was right.

  “Elizabeth, I confess I do not understand your flippancy. If you did not truly desire children, you should have told me outright!” Darcy knew the moment the words were said that he had jumped far over the line.

  “Mr. Darcy!” She was up in a shot. “That is a terrible and unfeeling thing to say.” Tears immediately welled within her eyes, and Darcy at once regretted his outburst.

  “Dammit, woman. Forgive me, but I am very concerned. You have had so many problems with this pregnancy—the nausea, the swelling, the exhaustion. I want you in a controlled environment where I can ensure your safety and the child’s health.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” she choked out in anger, “I was at Charlotte Collins’s home, not insanely rolling around in a field somewhere. We were with my father and Mr. Collins, two gentlemen who are capable of summoning help on the off chance that I would become seriously ill. And I was careful on the stairs! I was! If you think me so thoughtless and heartless that I would endanger our baby on a whim, then you should have entrusted this task to another and not have married me.” With that, she hurriedly padded past him and headed toward the grand staircase, stumbling awkwardly in her haste, slipping once in her stocking feet on the slick surfaces. She clutched at the railing for support.

  “Elizabeth! Slow down, and be careful!!” Darcy was at her side in a flash, grabbing at her arm. However, there was no way in the world that Elizabeth wanted to be touched by her husband at that particular moment, so she roughly pulled her arm away and used both hands to steady herself as she climbed the stairs. Darcy had no recourse but to walk behind her, angrily grumbling, all the way to the top.

  Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were not seen at dinner that evening, but they were, unfortunately, heard.

  ***

  At dawn on the following morning, a contrite Darcy pulled his wife’s back against him in bed and kissed the nape of her neck. “Cut line, Lizzy,” he whispered, his hands tenderly cupping her breasts. “You cannot still be angry with me.” He could hear the chuckle as she rolled onto her back and looked up into those beautiful eyes she loved so dearly.

  “Never tell me! I thought you were still mad at me.”

  “Well, yes, but you look so beautiful when you sleep, especially with your mouth shut, that I can’t hold onto anything but absolute adoration.”

  “Does that insulting line generally work with all your wives, Mr. Darcy?”

  “We’ll soon see,” he whispered back.

  ***

  Lizzy and Darcy were very late for breakfast that morning, everyone else finished and discussing the day’s activities. When they entered the dining room, they were both smiling like lunatics. Elizabeth avoided Aunt Catherine’s eyes, realizing that she had just enth
usiastically participated in activities that would certainly ‘frighten the baby,’ while Darcy looked around the room in a smugly contented manner.

  “God, but everything smells wonderful in the morning, especially food…” He patted his stomach as they made their way to the sideboard.

  “Yes, and especially when you haven’t eaten the night before,” muttered Lizzy.

  “Well, thank heavens you are both up; it’s nearly time to change into afternoon caps. I was afraid you would be ill all day.” Lady Catherine eyed them warily then turned to order the replenishment of the breakfast buffet. “You were ill earlier, were you not?” Lizzy and Darcy nodded once and then avoided all further eye contact. “Oh, Darcy, you’ve had another letter delivered here. It’s on the salver.”

  Darcy walked over to pick up the letter as Elizabeth passed behind her father, distracting him with a kiss atop his head while stealing leftover toast from his plate. She bent down to kiss Georgiana on her cheek.

  At that moment, Fitzwilliam came sauntering into the room. “Good Lord,” he groaned loudly when he caught sight of Darcy’s preposterous grin. “Taking to sleeping in, I see.” He walked over and took a plate from the footman stationed at the buffet. “Very reminiscent of Pemberley, I must say. And there is joy once again in paradise. Thank heaven.”

  “Fitzwilliam, is this not now your third breakfast? How in heaven’s name can the empire afford to keep you fed?” Catherine studied her nephew’s plate in awe.

  “Well, dearest, actually, I have been known to shoot new recruits for their rations.” He sat down happily and buttered his bread. “And besides, I much prefer to think of this as my first lunch.”

  Chapter 15

  Darcy read the note from Bingley with alarm.

  Dear Darcy,

  I am in dire straits, old friend. I need you at Netherfield as soon as possible. Please hurry, and again, please do not say a word to Elizabeth. Hurry.