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

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Darcy and Fitzwilliam: A Tale of a Gentleman and an Officer Page 11

by Karen V. Wasylowski


  “Go take care of that business. I can watch over our Lizzy for as long as you need, Darcy.” Mr. Bennet, as usual, displayed no desire to know what problems there may be concerning physical operations of the estates. He immediately forgot about Darcy and hurriedly set upon finishing his breakfast so that he could return to “his” magnificent library.

  “Thank you, sir. I will return as quickly as possible.”

  Elizabeth was worried, despite his assurances. She knew his every mood and nuance; he was plainly concerned about more than drainage. She smiled sweetly at Darcy when he touched her hand and kissed her cheek.

  ***

  The following morning, Lizzy watched from their bedroom window as his horse rode away. He sits so well on his horse, and he’s so handsome and kind and brave and noble and sweet and bold and heroic. Placing a protective hand over her stomach, she decided to have a word with their child.

  “I must speak with you (we will settle on a name soon, I promise). Papa will be gone for a little while, helping out your uncle Charles. You will come to realize, when you are older (say one day old or two) that this is often the case with your father, since he is the most clever and decent of men. The happiness of many people, as well as our own, rests on his magnificent shoulders.”

  She walked slowly to the bed. Still morning sleepy and already lonely for her husband, she lay down, tenderly holding her stomach. She yawned and smiled.

  “Your mama is very clever also, you know.” Lying on her side she brought her knees up and cuddled her stomach in her arms. “I put a trinket in his coat pocket to surprise him, a locket within which is a lock of your mama’s baby hair. Hopefully this will make him feel so hideously guilty and wretched that he will return to us sooner than he had thought.”

  This was, incredibly enough, Elizabeth’s first brazen attempt at wifely maneuvering, and she was quite proud. She was also extremely tired, gently patting her tummy and pulling the cover up to her shoulder, relieved that the little sprite within her had finally stopped booting her spine.

  ***

  “Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy.” Her maid was trying to wake her by gently shaking her shoulder.

  “William?” she garbled and looked around, blinking at the semidarkness of the room.

  “No, ma’am, sorry, it’s just me, Cara. A message was delivered to you from Mrs. Bingley. Lady Catherine thought it might have something to do with Mr. Darcy’s errand. She said I should bring it right up to you.”

  Elizabeth tried to shake the sleep from her thoughts, surprised to look around and see a darkening room. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly supper time, ma’am.” Cara curtseyed and left the room.

  Jane wrote a letter? Wait! I had another letter on the windowsill in my dressing room. Oh my, that was two or three days ago. Lizzy tore open the new message, dismayed with herself for not having read the earlier one.

  Lizzy,

  We have arrived safely and are having the most wonderful time. I feel very guilty about enjoying myself so much and Mama gone so recently, but after all that sadness, it is good to be alone with Charles and the baby, and just relax. Charles says we are to spend a second month here, so please do not worry.

  Were you as surprised as I at Caroline’s generosity? She has, unfortunately, broken off another engagement, evidently. It happened before mama’s passing but is something of which we have only now learned. She arranged this trip for us shortly after that. You see, there is good in everyone, even Caroline Bingley. Give my love to Papa and William.

  Lizzy got up from the bed and went to her dresser, searching for the original letter from Jane, and found it in the back of a drawer.

  Dear Lizzy,

  I wanted to let you know that Charles and I will be away for at least one month. We are going to Bath for a small vacation as a gift from, of all people, his sister, Caroline. It seems she has been planning this for a few weeks.

  Perhaps that is what she and Darcy were discussing at Mama’s funeral luncheon. They seemed to be very secretive; remember, I mentioned it to you? This does seem more something you or Darcy would think of, rather than Caroline. But I am being very ungracious, as this is a most generous gift.

  I will write to you upon our arrival there. Have a wonderful time with Father. Give him and Darcy both our love.

  Chapter 16

  “Caroline?! I didn’t expect to see you here. Where is Charles?” Darcy had handed the butler his coat and hat, and was immediately shown into the formal drawing room at Netherfield Hall. He looked hastily around the very familiar room, immediately feeling the vague apprehension he always experienced when alone with “the Viper,” as he and his cousin sometimes called her. All of these emotions were evident on his face as Caroline beckoned to him, her hands outstretched in welcome.

  “Mr. Darcy! How wonderful to see you, handsome as ever I must say! Charles told me to expect your arrival and that I should make you as comfortable as possible. You have only just missed our sister, Louisa, and Mr. Hurst. I believe Charles said he had some urgent matter and then suddenly galloped off. He asked me to have you wait for him, said he would return as soon as possible.”

  After giving her a chaste peck on her perfectly rouged cheek, Darcy took a seat across from her. She looked charming in a simple, pale country frock, the neckline of which, though low, was demurely trimmed with delicate ecru lace. Her fiery red hair was loosely tied back with ribbons. It was a puzzle to Darcy how she could continue in looks as she grew older, while her character seemed to diminish.

  “Where is Jane?” he asked, nodding at her butler’s offer of tea.

  Caroline waved off the butler, announcing she would pour, and then stared blankly at him for a second. “Oh, yes! Jane. Jane has gone to London with the baby. She is seeing her doctors there.”

  “I hope they are in good health. That isn’t the problem about which Charles means to talk, I hope?” Why ever would Jane be in London, seeing doctors, without Charles? Apprehension brought Darcy forward on his seat. If anything were to happen to her beloved sister Jane, Elizabeth would be devastated.

  “Oh heavens, not in the least. She and the child are visiting her aunt and uncle Gardiner. Please calm yourself. Charles will join her there shortly. She is doing splendidly, and so is the little one.”

  Relieved, Darcy rested back again in the chair, fumbling for his pocket watch and instead finding the locket Lizzy had slipped inside. The feel and look of it was familiar and an immediate comfort to him, bringing a quick grin to his face. Lizzy knew him so well. The locket had been given to her when she was a small child by her mother, and it meant the world to her. It contained some of Lizzy’s first baby locks. What a conniver she had become! Well, maybe I can find out what’s wrong and have my solicitor take over the problem. I can send off a message to Hastings & Griggs tomorrow and then leave early Friday morning, back home by the afternoon. Thirty miles is not a great distance. That thought brought back a vivid remembrance of one of his and Lizzy’s early battles, that long year before they wed, and in particular, his opinion that the thirty miles between Rosings Park and her parent’s home, Longbourn, were not nearly enough. He winced with the memory. God but he had been insufferably arrogant with her in those days.

  “Do you know what Charles was contacting me about?” Darcy asked finally, replacing the locket in his pocket.

  “I haven’t a clue. He doesn’t share his personal information with me, and I don’t share my private, personal life with him.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood in alarm, and his eyes glanced up quickly as Caroline advanced toward him with his tea. He tried in vain to deflect his vision from the exposed mass of white flesh bouncing toward him. Her low-cut gown, though perfectly in fashion, left nothing to the imagination. Nothing about Caroline was left to the imagination.

  Suddenly, the immense parlor seemed too small to contain them both. In panic, Darcy began to rise, but she pressed his shoulder, encouraging him to sit back and relax. Her breast
just slightly skimmed his ear as she leaned across him to pour cream into his cup. “Let me service you, sir,” she whispered. “It’s not often I have the opportunity to please a man as handsome as yourself.” Deep cleavage loomed before him.

  Elizabeth will rip my head off. His thoughts were calm, his castration inescapable.

  “You will stay for dinner, won’t you?” Caroline continued as she settled back into her chair. Darcy was squirming in her presence, and his reaction thrilled her. It was, after all, a reaction she was completely expecting. She could afford to go slowly now; they had all night. “Hopefully, Charles will be home by then. He must be mortified to have had to leave like this; he’s such a kind soul and would be devastated if he thought he had offended you in any way. Pray, do not become angry with him over this and storm off.”

  “No, of course not, Caroline. Charles is the finest of friends. I don’t mind in the least.” His hand clutched Lizzy’s locket.

  “What do you hide in your pocket, by the way? I am intrigued by what little I have seen as you keep returning to it over and over. Is it some extravagant watch fob you’ve purchased? A diamond stickpin, perhaps, or a pearl? I do adore pearls.”

  “Far from it, Caroline.” He held the locket loosely in his hand, the chain dangling. “As you can see, it is a very simple, inexpensive locket.” She reached out her hand, and he reluctantly placed it there. “It is my wife’s,” he said meaningfully.

  “A child’s heart locket, with a cutting of hair. How quaint.” Her lip curled as she swiftly assessed what little monetary value it held. Smiling politely, she turned the locket over and over in her hand and then returned it to him.

  ***

  It was seven o’clock in the evening, and Charles had still not returned, so Caroline called for the dinner to be served. They ate a delicious meal and talked of old friends and common acquaintances. Caroline could be a very warm and charming companion when it served her purpose, and she had many humorous stories of Carlton House escapades. A gracious hostess, she frequently signaled for the wineglasses to be refilled.

  “Caroline, this has been a very pleasant evening, but I am growing concerned about Charles. I hope nothing’s happened to him on the road.”

  “More than likely his meetings went over time. Perhaps he has taken refuge for the night. You know very well that my brother, Charles, can easily become muddled. Business affairs go quite over his head. He doesn’t possess your natural brilliance and experience. Frankly, I am of the belief that his attentions have been so taken with his marriage and new family that a problem arose of which he was unaware until it grew too late. He is most fortunate to have a friend like you to whom he may turn.”

  Darcy had never been someone who appreciated or sought out flattery and was becoming more and more guarded with Caroline’s adulation. In possession of an accurate and honest opinion of himself, knowing most of his own strengths and admitting to more than a few weaknesses, he rarely courted others’ approval. He eyed Caroline narrowly. Her brother had left the house and never returned, and she appeared unconcerned by it all? Something was not right about all this. The Caroline he knew was many things: self centered, amoral, cruel, calculating, and diabolical. However, she was a good sister. She loved her brother.

  He was also keenly aware that they were alone, late at night, in this big house deep in the country, thirty miles away from his wife, a wife who would slaughter him if she ever found out. Good God. He had a mental image of three cackling Lizzies standing before a caldron, stirring and stirring what appeared to be his head grinning from the pot, his eyebrow raised in slight alarm. He chuckled and looked toward the fireplace.

  “It’s so good to see you smile and relax, Mr. Darcy. You are devastatingly handsome at rest but even more so when you smile. I daresay that your responsibilities have more than doubled now with your new family. I’m sure that you often wish to have some time away from all those obligations and give yourself… relief?” Above her wineglass, she smiled wickedly at him, the last word of that sentence a taunting question. Darcy’s heart started to quicken as her tongue licked the rim of her glass. She had a long, soft tongue—he remembered that.

  “It is too late now for you to return to your aunt’s estate. More’s the pity, the roads are treacherous after all this rain we’ve had. Charles would insist that you stay here in your old rooms this night. He will return soon, I am quite certain, possibly even later this evening. Let us retire into the drawing room and have our brandy.”

  ***

  As they sat and talked before the warm fire, the effects of the wine and the brandy began to percolate, and Darcy had to remind himself not to have too much of a pleasant evening. But, God in heaven, it was a relief to be away from the stress of the baby and the estate problems of his aunt’s, his sister’s fears about the upcoming presentation, his cousin’s guilt from the war—even if for just a few hours. Yes, it was like old times to sit here with Caroline and flirt and laugh and gossip about old friends. And drink. How long since he had felt the effects of a tad too much alcohol? In fact, he was already good and foxed. He closed his eyes as the room spun around him, resting his head on the back of the chair while he loosened his neck cloth. He shook his head vigorously and squeezed his eyes. Nothing was helping.

  “Are you tired, Darcy? It is getting very late. Perhaps we should go upstairs to bed?” He was startled awake by Caroline’s husky tone.

  “No, no, ’m fine, Caroline. ’M a bit sleepy, though. Oh, thank you. And just what is this brandy called?” He reached out his glass to the footman who had opened a new bottle. “It’s actually very good. Very smooooth. Barely feel a thing.”

  “Well, that settles it. You will be staying tonight, seeing as you, my friend, are well into your cups. I’m certain Charles will be along by the morning.”

  Doubt and suspicion struggled for a coherent foothold in Darcy’s well-oiled brain. His eyes narrowed at her, making Caroline begin to giggle. “Upon my word, of what are you afraid, Darcy? I am but a small, frail woman, and our history is long over, is it not?”

  “Actually, Caroline, m’ dear, ’m afraid we really have no history.” Ha! Surprised her with that one. Darcy tried to keep his voice steady and friendly and his mind alert. She was still somewhere in that room. Had to be alert with Caroline, he remembered that.

  “Well, then, you have no reason to refuse my hospitality. We are both of us adults, Darcy, and old intimate friends. If Charles has not returned by tomorrow, we can send a note around to see why he has been detained.”

  It all sounded so very reasonable to him, the words she spoke ones of hospitality and kindness, so why did he feel so guilty? Ach! He was just so bloody tired. Darcy shook his head to clear the fog that had settled in, and rubbed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Is something wrong?” Caroline asked innocently.

  “No, no, nothin’ really, Caroline. Jus’ wonder why Charles would ask me t’ come here and then leave. Are you certain Jane’s all right? Why would he leave Jane ’n city and come back here t’see me?”

  “Well, I believe his problem is of a very personal nature, one that he felt more inclined to discuss here at Netherfield. Shall we retire?” Nothing was making sense to him, but Caroline never did make sense. He remembered that.

  Chapter 17

  Darcy had stayed in this house many times and had always had the use of this particular bedroom, so he relaxed and finally allowed himself to feel at ease. His first time here had been those long weeks when he met and fell in love with Elizabeth Bennet. During those early days, she had also stayed at Netherfield to nurse her sister Jane, who had become ill during a visit— that had been hard having her so near to him and then falling head over heels for her. Of course, there also had been the small problem of her hating the very sight of him. He had ached for her until returning the following spring, finally courageous enough to ask for her hand a second time after her initial rejection. Yes, this house had many powerful memories for him
, but being alone in the place with Caroline should not be one of them and would be impossible to share with his wife.

  He shuddered to think of her learning about this. The picture of three Lizzies boiling his head was replaced with one of her leveling a blunderbuss at his groin. Even though the images had changed, she was still cackling. If it was not so late, he would tie himself across his horse and escape to her father’s home. But Mr. Bennet was not home either; he was at Rosings, too. He was, wasn’t he? Darcy groaned and hiccoughed. His thoughts were tumbling around, rarely connecting or making sense.

  Without thinking, he took another draw from the brandy bottle. Then another. I am worrying needlessly. ’Course I am. Caroline and I have both matured and gone our separate ways. She’s been ’gaged ’bout five times since we were together, at least five times, certainly enough times t’ have forgotten me. And she’s m’ dear friend’s sister, after all. Good ol’ Bingley. He convinced himself that perhaps he had misjudged her, and even if not, there was a lock on the hallway door that he had fastened and a chair secured beneath the knob. Ha! He chuckled to himself. She was crafty. He remembered that.

  He sat heavily on the bed and unbuttoned his breeches. This is so unlike good ol’ Bingley, he reflected as he tugged off one boot, the momentum of the movement rolling him over on his side. “Oooops.”

  He lay there, his cheek pressed into the sheets. They felt nice and cool against his skin. Don’t like mysteries. Like concrete things. Mr. Concrete. Mr. Drainage. I hope he and Jane aren’t having difficulties. (Hiccough) I would hate to be in the middle of that one. Ha! I have my own marriage to contend with, without trying to figure out another’s. He righted himself slowly, shaking his head to settle all the confusion. He tugged off his second boot, reverse momentum continuing him over, facedown onto the bed in the other direction.

 

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