Missing in Action

Posted on Sunday, 8 April 2007

Darcy stole silently into the breakfast room. He was pleasantly surprised that his children were not awake, yet. He loved them very much, but they were rather energetic when up and about. To have a breakfast during which he did not have to negotiate between his rambunctious offspring would be a welcome change. Every moment of peace and silence had to be blessed and treasured.

The visit to Rosings had gone pretty well, all things considered, he mused while preparing his plate. Even though his aunt had fallen ill and taken to her room the second week into their stay. It had been unfortunate, as the lady had finally started to strike up a rapport with his wife. Lady Catherine doted on the Darcy children and Elizabeth would never disagree with anyone who thought that her children were the amazing genii she saw them to be. He had liked that they got along so well.

On the other hand, the respite from her mother had been good for Anne. In Lady Catherine’s absence, she had taken on the duties of a hostess. It had forced her to come out of her shell for a while and, Darcy thought, she had found that she rather liked it.

At that moment, the object of his thoughts entered with General Fitzwilliam. The cousins had their heads bent together in an urgent discussion.

“Mother said she is feeling well enough again to come down today. She must never know!” exclaimed Anne and then stopped to run her hand along the top of the doorframe.

“What is the matter?” asked Darcy, mystified by her behaviour.

“The children have not found all,” explained she.

“Did not Fitzwilliam make a list?”

“He burnt it!” All the panicked exasperation Anne felt were put into these three words.

“I did not,” retorted the General indignantly. It was a bit muffled because he had his head stuck under the table. “The window was opened and the list fluttered into the fire. It was not my fault.”

She threw up her hands. “Why did you leave it lying about anyway?”

The General muttered something inaudible under his breath while scanning the potted plants next to the windows.

Anne glared at his back and turned to Darcy. “If mother learns of this, it is going to be awful. She will never approve of the practice. Tomfoolery she calls it.”

“Do not worry. We will find them. Do you know how many are missing?”

“Twenty-three.”

“So many?” Awkwardly, Darcy patted Anne’s arm and repeated – as much to reassure himself as her, “We will find them. We will.”

On the way to inform his wife about the situation, he could not help scanning each nook and cranny – Rosings had a lot of these, he noticed – for signs of them. He got nothing except a few surprised stares from the servants he encountered.

He was fishing in a large vase with his arm, when suppressed giggling alerted him to the presence of his daughters. He hastily straightened up and put on his best no-nonsense face. “Are you two hiding from Nanny Taylor again?”

Two set of eyes peeped around the corner. Seeing their father, the girls’ faces lit up and with happy cries of “Good morning, papa!” they rushed to his side. Their whole stance radiated joyous innocence. Darcy was not fooled. When the girls looked their most angelic, they had just done something they were forbidden to do. He looked at them and waited.

“We are not hiding,” said his eldest. “We have been to see mamma.”

Her sister, two years her junior, nodded and added, “We wanted to go for a walk. Mamma says not, but it is so beautiful outside and we would not go far and can we please, please go? Please?”

“We have had breakfast now and it is so dull inside. Please, papa?” enforced the elder. The girls looked at him hopefully.

He could never deny them anything. “Fine, you may go outside. But only if Miss Taylor is going with you.”

With a lot of hurrah, the two girls dashed off, presumably to find Miss Taylor. Darcy smiled indulgently after them. They may be the wiliest bunch of little girls in existence but they were his little devils and he would not want them anyway else.

A few minutes later, it was Mrs Darcy who smiled indulgently as her husband re-enacted the scene in the breakfast room for her. Being married to Elizabeth Bennet had done a lot for Darcy. Those who had known him before his marriage would be hard pressed to reconcile the relaxed and smiling man he was now with the uptight, stiff-lipped man he had been back then.

“And now, Anne is horrified that Lady Catherine will find out,” he closed.

“Well, if your aunt does, we will send the children to explain it. She can never resist them. They have her wrapped around their little fingers,” said his wife in amusement.

“A devious move worthy of any great tactician,” answered Darcy. “While we are on the topic of our children… Why did you say the girls should not go outside, love? It is a great day. Not one muddy pond or puddle they could fall into anywhere in sight.”

“I confined them to the indoors as punishment. They hid away their brother this morning and would not tell Miss Taylor or me where. It took us over an hour to find him tied up and gagged in the linen closet. You should stop reading all those adventure stories to them.” His wife looked at him with pursed lips.

“I might have done something unwise then,” said Darcy uncomfortably. “In my defence, I did not know that they were being punished.”

Elizabeth sighed, “Let me guess. They looked at you with big, pleading eyes and you could not say no to them.”

“They inherited their mother’s eyes. I cannot be faulted for being unable to deny them anything.”

Apparently, this was no instance where flattery brought him anything. His wife’s lovely eyes still upbraided him. “Next time, ask me before you overrule anything I said.”

Darcy nodded properly chastised, knowing that she knew he would be a pushover as soon as the girls set their eyes on him again. Changing the topic slightly, he asked, “How did Richard take to being a prisoner?”

“He took it in stride, but decided that he would take a long ride far away from the house for the next few hours.”

Darcy looked at her alarmed. The eight-year-old boy had the tendency to get lost from time to time. The last time, they had searched the grounds of Pemberley for hours. It had been dark when they had found him. The whole time, Darcy had had horror visions of his son and heir lying strangled in some ditch or bushes or drowned in a stream. It had been the most harrowing experience of his entire life so far.

Elizabeth, sensing where his thoughts had strayed, said, “Do not worry. I sent John Stableman with him. I would never let him go alone.”

A careful knock on the door interrupted them before he could answer. “Mrs Darcy?” A maid stuck her head tentatively into the room. “If you please, ma’am, Ms de Bourgh is asking if you could come down.”

“We shall be down in a minute, Sarah.”

“They are in the morning room, ma’am.” The girl bobbed a curtsey and closed the door again.

The morning room had been turned into a makeshift headquarter from which General Fitzwilliam oversaw Operation Retrieval. At the moment, he was briefing Boulders, the de Bourgh’s butler.

“Chose the servants at your discretion. The whole thing must be held from Lady Catherine at all costs.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Good man.” The General noticed the Darcys in the room. “Ah, there you are. We have been waiting for you. Anne will be back in a few moments. If you would care to wait for her, Mrs Darcy?”

Elizabeth nodded and took a seat. The General smiled at her and then turned to Darcy. “You are in charge of the west wing.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Operation Retrieval. I have divided the house into several sectors. It will make searching easier. You are in charge of the west wing,” explained Fitzwilliam.

Anne de Bourgh burst into the room and cried joyously, “I found one!” She waved her arm in the air with a look of triumph.

“What did you find?” asked an imperious voice right behind her.

The whole room froze in the tableau, Anne having her arm in the air and everyone else staring at Lady Catherine behind her. Then Anne did the only thing, she could think of. She lobbed the small object across the room.

Without even batting an eyelid, Boulders plucked it out of the air and crossed his arms behind his back again.

For a long moment, nobody dared to breathe as Lady Catherine gazed at each of them with an inscrutable look on her face. She finally came to a decision.

“I do not want to know,” she decreed, turning to go. “General Fitzwilliam, I need your help. Join me in the study.”

“Yes, Aunt Catherine,” said the General. He looked at Darcy and Boulders significantly, “Carry on with your task.”

The men nodded their understanding then grimly looked at each other. With Lady Catherine out of her bed, their task had just become a lot more difficult.

Anne watched the men purposefully stride out of the room. She smiled, “They look like little boys playing Undercover Mission. I have not seen the General so happy in a long while. Boys will be boys, I guess.”

Mrs Darcy laughed, “Give men an opportunity to play and they will be occupied for an entire day.”

“Shall we sneak into the east wing and complete our own mission?” Anne could not help the giggles that escaped her.

Elizabeth fell in with her. “I guess we will be finished before they are.”

As it was, none had finished their assignment when the families gathered for dinner again. Surreptitiously comparing their process, it came out that only four out of the twenty-three were still unaccounted for.

“What did she need your help for?” inquired Darcy of his cousin.

The General wildly cast around for a reply, “Uhm… some estate matters.” As he seemed disinclined to further elaborate, Darcy did not prod. Fitzwilliam would tell him if anything was really amiss.

Dinner that evening was a slightly strained affair. Thankfully the children were there to entertain their great aunt, telling her of all their adventures since the moment Lady Catherine had taken to bed. The conversation did not ebb for one moment.

Darcy marvelled at the sway his children held over her. Nobody else had ever spoken so long without being interrupted by her. Yet, the three holy terrors could talk and talk and Lady Catherine would listen and even encourage them to continue. She seemed genuinely delighted with their escapades. She did not even bat an eye, actually smiled, when Richard admitted to having destructed her favourite hat by sitting on it – accidentally naturally.

The children had barely started on the fourth week of their stay, when dinner was over and Nanny Taylor came to lead them back to their rooms. With earnest assurances that they would tell their great aunt all the rest tomorrow, the three left the adults to themselves.

Lady Catherine rose. Elizabeth and Anne followed suite, thinking it was time to leave the gentlemen to themselves. But Lady Catherine merely turned slightly and looked at the chair she had recently vacated.

“Would you mind explaining why I have sat on something that appears to be a chocolate egg throughout all dinner?”