Beginning, Section II, Next Section
I was bound for Rosings, most reluctantly, having been summoned by Aunt Catherine and expressly told not to delay my journey. The reason for the journey was thus: Catherine had determined that I was now to be wed to Anne, since I was the last of the eligible relatives now that Thomas and Darcy were both married. I had received her missive late in the day and spent a sleepless night contemplating my next course of action. Somewhere between dawn and breakfast I realised that the best thing would be to confront Aunt Catherine directly and put an end to her nonsense. Thus I prepared for a trip to Rosings and prayed it would be a short stay. I knew I had no hope of a peaceful one.
Poor Anne, to be shuffled off on a second son bottom of the barrel soldier like me because Darcy and Thomas had no sense of duty or obligation. (Those comforting words were in Aunt Catherine's letter). Personally I think Anne would have been quite happy if her mother popped off and left her alone. The few conversations we'd had led me to think that Anne was a good deal more spirited and aware than she let on and had I not already lost my heart, I might seriously have considered marrying her... provided Aunt Catherine moved to the West Indies.
The morning of my journey I was taking an early walk when I was suddenly accosted.
I looked down to see who was pulling on my coat and found small child with familiar dark curls and mischievous eyes. "Hi!"
"Good Morning, Bennet," We shook hands solemnly and I noticed he was alone. "Are you here with your nurse?"
He shook his head no and said. "Mama. Gone."
"Mama gone?" I puzzled this for a minute before realising I had no idea what he meant. I took a shot in the dark: "Bennet, would you like me to find your Mama?"
He smiled and stabbed at me with a sticky finger, "Cofiz. Mamamamama. Go."
As I tried to decipher his statement, I spotted Elizabeth walking hastily towards us.
"Oh Colonel Fitzwilliam. Thank you for finding him."
"I believe he found me. However, I am happy to be of service to you both."
She smiled and turned her attention toward Bennet, "Young man, you are not to leave my side."
Bennet was sucking on his two fingers and looked... scared. Quickly, Elizabeth embraced him.
"I was so worried, Ben. You mustn't ever wander off." She took him firmly by the hand and stood up. "Thank you again, Colonel. We were talking our morning walk and I'm afraid I was detained."
"Shrubz mam.... icky." Bennet pointed in the direction I had seen Elizabeth coming from. I spotted a gentleman sauntering towards us.
I recognised him from my travels abroad: Edgar Standish was a tall, thin man, reputed to be worth a considerable sum, all garnered illicitly. Actually I had spent a good deal of time with him in Paris and had won a large amount from him at a gaming house he was running at the time. A Spanish lady of my acquaintance once called him handsome; most of the men of my acquaintance called him lucky, when they needed a polite term. "Standish."
"Fitzwilliam! Good god, it's been ages. What are you doing in England?" He pumped my arm vigorously.
"I live here?"
He roared with amusement. "Well of course you do old boy."
All this while Elizabeth had been surreptitiously moving away from us. She had almost put enough distance between herself and us that she could justify walking away without further discourse, until Standish spotted her.
"Oh! And there's my new friend. Come here sweetheart, and meet an old friend of mine." Standish reached for Elizabeth. I was thoroughly confused, Elizabeth was shooting daggers at both of us and Bennet was whimpering behind her skirts.
"A friend? Standish?" I knew the kinds of women Standish liked to refer to as friends. I had spent a better part of my year on the continent falling in love with such women.
Standish leaned in and whispered loudly, "I am trying to convince her that I am a perfectly respectable fellow for a nursemaid to be seen with."
*Cough* Nursemaid!!?? Was he blind?!
My brain suddenly clicked: Standish wanted to make her one of his conquests. Darcy was going to commit murder when he heard about this.... if I didn't kill him first.
"What makes you think she's his nursemaid? Perhaps she's his mother."
"Nonsense. Mother's do not cavort in the park with their children. At least ladies do not. And she doesn't look cheap enough to be the other kind."
The hell with Darcy, I'm going to kill him. "Standish, you are making an ass of yourself."
"Colonel Fitzwilliam if you will excuse the interruption I believe my son and I are a trifle fatigued. Could you lend me your arm?"
I grinned. "Certainly Mrs. Darcy. Standish, permit me the introduction: My cousin, Mrs. Darcy."
Standish paled.
"Darcy?!"
"Why, yes sir. Are you acquainted with my husband?" Her smile was so disarming I struggled not to choke. Instead, I occupied myself lifting Bennet onto my shoulders, my injured one only protesting a little to the added weight.
"I..... I... must be going. Good day, Fitzwilliam, Madam." Standish ran off.
After assuring myself that no harm came to her or Ben, I escorted them both safely home and returned to Darcy. He thanked me in that grave scary tone, the one he reserves for mentioning Wickham. I stepped back involuntarily, suddenly reminded of how fierce Darcy can look when he's mad.
He took several deep breaths and muttered about "impertinent brainless fools."
"I must be going, Darce." At the sound of my voice he stopped muttering and gave me a sharp look.
"Do not mention this to Elizabeth."
"That I am going somewhere?" I asked innocently enough. Darcy knew better.
"Idiot. My.... musings this morning."
"Why?"
"Elizabeth disapproves of retaliation. She would be irritated if she were to find out." He told me.
Aha. I could see where keeping one's wife in the dark about such things might be beneficial. But I never let an open opportunity to tease Darcy go unpunished. "You let your wife dictate your actions?"
Darcy smirked, "I let my wife do a number of things that would shock a bachelor. Talk to me after you're a married man."
"After?" I think he meant if ever.
"Fitzwilliam, I would rather Elizabeth not know any of this."
"I certainly do not intend to tell her. I rather enjoy all of my appendages and have no desire to let her chew one off. But what exactly will you do?"
Darcy looked out of the window for a moment before turning towards me with an evil glint in his eye, "SO you're bound for Rosings."
I seriously despise Darcy when he makes a statement out of a question. It always means he's up to something. Caution is warranted in these situations. "Yeeeess."
"You're to marry Anne."
"Lady Catherine thinks so. I have other plans."
"Yet you are going."
"Darcy, get to the bloody point. I'm in no mood for riddles." I hated when he turned the tables and teased me.
"Hmph. You are in no mood for civility either."
"Bah... you aren't trying to be civil. YOU are trying to irritate me."
"It's working."
I muttered a phrase which would make my mother blush, though I've heard it many times from my father. Darcy feigned shock and I scowled at him.
"Very well," he sighed. "I think going to Rosings would be a grave mistake."
"Other than the obvious problems of Aunt Catherine what makes you say that?"
"You intend to marry Lady Jennifer."
"I think we've covered this ground before."
"If you go to Rosings I have it on good authority that she will not be here when you return."
Darcy never gossips. For him to repeat this must mean he has good reason. I could tell he was no longer trying to annoy me; his demeanour had become one of friendship and he had stopped smirking. My heart squeezed in panic as I tried to decipher his meaning and purpose. "Darcy what is going on? Tell me, dammit."
He handed me a glass of something and encouraged me to drink it. It burned my throat.
"Elizabeth has told me, in confidence mind you, that Lady Jennifer believers you to be attached to someone and she is making plans to remove to Bath. She leaves tomorrow."
"She's leaving?" I asked through the haze. Darcy nodded. "And she thinks I........." I started to laugh. Poor Darcy must have thought I'd lost my mind, but it really was very amusing. Here I'd spent the past several weeks being completely miserable because Lady Jennifer did not care for me, only to find that she'd been equally miserable thinking I did not care for her.
I think Darcy began to see the humour because soon we were both laughing and wiping our eyes.
Darcy spoke first, "I take it your trip to Rosings is postponed."
I nodded and tried to sober myself. "I have a more important mission now."
"So why are you still here?"
Good point. I needed to propose! But how? Flowers, I need flowers.
"Fitzwilliam?"
"Flowers, Darce. I need flowers... and poetry. Jennifer deserves poetry."
"Not yours. Try Shakespeare."
"Shakespeare, right. You wouldn't happen to..."
He handed me a book of sonnets. I love Darce.
"I need to go. I have things...."
"Fitzwilliam..." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Good luck."
"Yes. Thank you. Wish me well.... you did already. Fine. I.... I'll be off. And I'll let you know." I bumped into the door as I was leaving, but even Darcy guffaws failed to dim my elation.
She loves me!
I threw up in the flowerbed.
I needed a place. Somewhere romantic. Pemberley Gardens! Except we were two days journey from Pemberley and I couldn't just grab Jennifer and drag her to Pemberley just so I could propose. Pity, Elizabeth had done marvellous things with the Pemberley Rose Garden. It would be just the place for romance.
Where else could I look?
Vauxhall. Yes, Vauxhall in the moonlight. With roses and.... pearls! Yes, I needed roses and pearls.
First I need to get Jennifer, Lady Jennifer, there. How?
Darcy!
I made my way back to Darcy's.
An hour later, less the promise a bottle of Father's best Bordeaux for him and roses for Elizabeth, Darcy had agreed to create an evening party at Vauxhall.
It was all set. I had everything planned. Darcy agreed (after promising him another bottle of Bordeaux) that he would suggest a walk and lead Elizabeth and Georgiana down a path, leaving me to escort Jennifer, whereby I could steer her to a quiet corner and propose. Perhaps the Lovers walk.... no I needed someplace more....well.... lighted. Perhaps the Colonnade, but that was usually too crowded and Elizabeth correctly pointed out that ladies do not enjoy being a public spectacle. I was rather annoyed that Darcy told Elizabeth my plans but it worked for the best, as it was she who suggested the Chinese Pavilion.
And there I had my plans. I had only to wait three anxious sleepless days for my plans to come to fruition.
The evening was pleasantly cool and slightly cloudy, actually quite normal in my opinion. However, I was much too preoccupied to care about the weather and that was my biggest tactical error.
We settled in and listened to the music for a while. Elizabeth had arranged a basket of fruit and sweets to be brought along. I was rather too distracted to notice what I was eating, and indeed Darce offered me a strawberry dipped in dirt just to annoy me. He apparently finds it amusing that I almost ate the thing. Elizabeth stopped me and insisted she was tired of sitting and would like a walk.
It was time.
I grinned. This was going to be wonderful.
As planned Darcy offered am arm to Elizabeth and Georgiana so that I was left to offer Lady Jennifer my arm. She accepted with an odd smile, as if she knew what I was up to. But there was no way. I had been too careful, behaving like a complete gentleman.
We talked about nothings, and gradually fell back from Darce such that a turn towards the Pavilion seemed almost natural.
I had picked out a spot where there were many flowers. Jennifer needs flowers.
I plucked a bloom and held it out toward her.
"Thank you Colonel."
"My pleasure.... Jennifer."
"Jennifer?"
"Well yes. I wish to discuss....."
Damnation! Thunder interrupted my speech. Within seconds it began to rain slightly but enough that we needed to seek shelter. We found an alcove that was reasonably sheltered and hoped to wait out the slight shower.
Then it began to pour. I pulled Jennifer in tightly, as much to embrace her as to shelter her from the rain. Her hair was plastered down and her dress ruined, and I shouldn't mention how nicely it clung to her, but it did. Very nicely.
Poetry!
I had a sonnet I had learned for this occasion and I started: "Shall I compare thee to a summers' day..."
"I should certainly hope not Colonel. I fear you would find me seriously lacking in such a comparison. Especially considering my presently damp condition."
"But... I would not! You are lovely!"
She blushed! I made her blush. Poetry was out, so I did the only thing which came to mind:
I kissed her.
She responded and since it was not followed by a slap in the face, I was in heaven. We broke to the kiss rather too quickly for my taste. I could have continued much longer.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam.... Richard..." She took a deep breath and smiled, but there was a glint in her eyes that made me suddenly nervous. Instinctively I prepared myself for a blow, or some other pain that can be inflicted only by women. "Richard you have exactly ten minutes to propose to me."
Propose?! Indeed?! No vapours, no flirtatious coy giggles, just to the point and with an underlying threat. I love this woman! It took me exactly nine minutes to propose. Truthfully it took three minutes to ask and six minutes for her to kiss me senseless.
We married at the beginning of September in a small ceremony, with a lavish breakfast afterwards. Few among the ton bothered to concern themselves with an army mad second son and a hapless spinster; but those who did were among those counted by us as our closest friends. To Jennifer's chagrin I remember very few details from the day. I recall feeling somewhat amazed and a little perturbed, that everyone was making all this fuss over a marriage, especially my marriage, though Jennifer assures me that SHE did not object to the fuss at all and attributes my lack of enthusiasm to a slight headache brought on by the previous night's activities. She was particularly annoyed with Thomas, who as she pointed out, did promise to behave himself. That was her error. Years of experience have taught the rest of us that one needs to make Thomas promise to behave well.
Truthfully, though Thomas tried his best to drink me into oblivion, I remained rather sober. My head was wrought more from the whirlwind of people buzzing about, all demanding my attention, when I preferred to keep my attention on Jennifer. Compounding this was that each time I had a moment with my bride, someone insisted on spiriting her away. Under these circumstances I think my headache was perfectly justified.
Jennifer does not believe me but I do remember those things which I consider important: I remembered to breathe when I first saw her approach the altar (Darcy's advice). I remembered not to hesitate when saying my vows (Elizabeth's suggestion). I remembered to keep her away from Aunt Catherine during the wedding breakfast (just common sense). And I remembered those moments when we were finally alone:
I looked around her room and recalled something Darcy had tormented me with a few days earlier: hint and suggestions that I was about to discover something wonderful. Of course we were a bit in our cups at the time, and Darcy does delight in sounding mysterious, though half of his mystery comes from four syllable words which are beyond my understanding, so most of his hints about discovering something wonderful went over my head. I do know he was not referring to the wedding night, because HE is fully aware of how much time and energy, and money, I spent on the continent between wars.
Darcy refused my few attempts to draw out of him a more definitive statement, saying only that he couldn't explain, it was something I'd understand after I married.
Standing in the doorway to Jennifer's chamber's I began to understand.
My first glimpse of Jennifer was her back and she was brushing her hair. Long, thick brown tresses that made my fingers itch. I wanted to run my hands through her hair. Roses. It would smell like roses.
I made some noise to announce my presence and she stood to face me.
Oh.
My throat hurt.
I couldn't swallow, but I wanted to.
Tonight remember to pull yourself together and speak to her before you scare with silence. Darcy's final words of advice rang in my head. How did he know?
How could anyone in so many voluminous yards of silk could be so covered and yet look so.....
GO
I made my way over to her, wiping my sweating hands on my dressing gown and hoping she didn't see that.
She did, but smiled and let me take her hand anyway.
There was a look in her face that reminded me of our waltz at the Heatherleigh's. And I again had the same reaction: all the air left my body rather suddenly. This time I followed through with my desired action. I kissed her.
When we broke Jennifer's face was tinged pink. Jennifer looked very good in pink.
She ran her hands along the sleeves of my dressing gown. "My Colonel. My husband."
Why those words affected me I cannot say. But I shuddered down in my very core.
"My wife.... Oh, Jenny..." I could not make a coherent thought.
This was too much. I pulled her to the sofa and sat down. "Sit with me a moment."
She looked confused but sat very close..... I like silk.
A few breath-taking kisses later I was divested of my dressing gown and clad in only my nightshirt.
Jennifer reached over and touched my shoulder where my nightshirt gaped. She trailed a finger across the scar gently enough that I didn't wince, but I still wanted to pull back.
"Does it still hurt?" She asked.
"It aches sometimes. When the weather changes." She bit her lip but kept her finger on the scar.
"How did you get it?"
"I was shot. Twice."
"Twice?" Her face had something akin to a smirk and her next statement sounded very much like teasing: "I must say that was awfully careless of you."
"Indeed. Though at the time I was more grateful that it wasn't my head."
She registered my meaning and looked shocked. I tried to reassure her: "Especially now."
"Now?"
"I shall always be happy for my carelessness such as it was." I touched her cheek with the back of my hand. "If I had been more careful I would not have such an interesting tale to amuse you with."
Her smile made me swallow. Interesting how the two were connected. Each time she smiled I felt my throat tighten. She traced my scar again and I had to grab her hand in order to still it. Her fingers were driving me mad, however gently she touched it. Though perhaps that was part of the reason..... She looked startled as I kissed her fingers.
"I really DO NOT wish to discuss this now."
"I.... I apologize Richard. I didn't realise I was hurting you." She looked scared and confused.
I kissed her and smiled. "Later. Perhaps... In the morning. You can examine my injuries then. Not NOW."
"Oh. I see." She smiled back at me and my heart gave a little flutter. I briefly wondered why. Anticipation? Nerves? Joy... Definitely joy.
"You are insufferable!" Jennifer shrieked and then slammed the door hard enough to shake a vase on the mantle piece.
Damned stubborn, irrational female.
Our first fight.
We had settled at Stanyon, a respectably small property adjoining my father's estate. Stanyon had originally been part of my mother's inheritance and thus as it was not part of what would pass to Thomas, it was given to Jennifer and I as a wedding gift. My father must have been feeling very generous, or rather drunk, when my mother approached him with her intentions, as I never heard any yelling on the subject. Whatever the case, the result was that I was now a landowner.
Darcy, upon this announcement, promptly handed me a business card and then went back to his desk, studiously ignoring me. He was clearly up to something. I read the card:
Mr. Edgar Holt
"Darce, who is Mr. Holt?"
"A solicitor."
Tactic number one failed. Try tactic number two:
"Darcy why are you giving me Mr. Holt's card?"
"I thought you might need it."
Damn the man! Try a third tactic. If this fails I'll not be held liable for my actions. Taking a deep breath and using my best, most patient voice I asked:
"Darcy why do you think I need the name of a solicitor?"
Darcy stood and lazily stretched, "Mr. Holt specializes in bankruptcy."
The nearest object was a vase of flowers. Once that was emptied over his head I proceeded to pelt Darcy with a pillow from the sofa. It was a feather pillow.
Elizabeth scolded me later for the mess, and refused to believe that it was her husband who started the whole thing. Women!
Jennifer was equally irrational. Shortly after settling in I decided to go on half-pay and therein lay the makings for our first fight as Jennifer wanted me to sell out. I liked the army. True I felt little of the madness and blood lust for it that I had when I was eighteen, but still I enjoyed the occupation. The thought of becoming idle was distasteful.
Yet, I wanted to remain near my wife. I could barely stand to be separated from her for more than a sennight. The month before our wedding, when she had been at Kel's estate and I was dividing my time between London and Stanyon had been torture enough; but now that we were married, I was loath to consider leaving her for any amount of time.
Some of my acquaintances laughed when I expressed this sentiment. My own father found it astounding that I would be such a mutton-headed fool as to let a woman dictate my future. However I received a great deal of support from both Darcy and Bingley. From Bing such feeling is expected, as he has the most sensibility out of our circle. I was not shocked when Darcy quietly mentioned that he had not been out of Elizabeth's company for more than two days since they married. I had seen their love. They thrived within each other's sphere. In my mind they made that whole two-becoming-one faddle that the reverend preached seem more real.
Half-pay was the most logical choice.... to me.
Jennifer insisted that I could find useful employment without, "traipsing through the muck and mire, contracting Lord knows what diseases just so you could put a bayonet through someone's leg."
I gathered from her slamming of the door that this was not the time to point out that one does not aim for the leg when using a bayonet.
I needed to get out, and so I went for a ride to clear my head, desperately wishing that Darcy was closer and I could ask him how he coped with Elizabeth's irrationality. Were all wives like this? My mother and sister certainly were; yet I had thought it only a family trait, not something common amongst all women. I couldn't remember Elizabeth or Georgiana ever being this stubborn.
Despite the cool October air I was very warm after my ride, and not looking forward to fighting more with Jennifer. So I determined to walk about a bit in the garden.
Everything was dead. Boringly dead. Having little to do and nothing to stare at I flopped on my back and began to look at the clouds. At least it was a sunny day. I'd be seriously mad if it rained on me.
"Richard."
A soft hand brushed my cheek and I was roused back into consciousness.
Jennifer was smiling at me. Now I was truly confused. She was mad, I go to sleep, now she's happy.
"You're not mad anymore."
"No, I'm not. And I apologize for slamming the door like that."
"Why aren't you mad?"
"I remembered some things and I got over being angry."
"Oh." Good, she wasn't angry. "Why couldn't you remember that before you yelled at me?"
"Oh Richard. Sometimes it takes me a while to see the whole picture. Besides, you were rather argumentative yourself."
"But it's my decision."
"Yes it is." She looked upset so I sat up. "Darling, I realise you need some form of occupation. Richard I never would have given you a second thought, much less married you, if you had been like my brother, or the other suitors who never worked a day. But I really do not want you in an occupation which is going to get you killed."
"Jenny, I...." Just a minute: "What other suitors?"
"What?"
"What other suitors?"
"Does it matter now?" She kissed me and I forgot about whatever I was concerned with before.
Darcy and his family arrived in December to spend a few weeks with us before Elizabeth entered her confinement. Jennifer was extremely glad to have Elizabeth and Georgiana with us as she wanted to talk with Elizabeth privately for a bit.
Elizabeth was beautiful and Georgiana looked grown-up. Bennet seemed particularly pleased to see me. At least I assume that when a two year old shrieks, "CoFiz!'" and wraps himself around my legs and demands "UP" at an ever increasing volume, that he is pleased to see me.
I picked him up and Ben promptly wrapped his little arms around my neck and spit on me. Despite Darcy's protestations that it was a kiss, I am convinced that the child was trained by Darce to behave that way only for me. I base this on the fact that Bennet did not spit on Jennifer. He executed a little bow and spitlessly kissed her hand
Jennifer ushered everyone in and set about being the perfect hostess. I think she truly enjoyed having her own home.
Darcy saw to his family and then joined me in my study.
"Are you enjoying married life Richard?"
"It's complicated."
"What is?"
"Being married. I suddenly feel like a schoolboy who's required to give an account of his actions. Only I find instead of dreading it, I like it. I like having her worried about me."
Darcy smiled. "I understand."
And oddly enough I believe he did.
The Darcy's stayed for a fortnight. I think I spent most of that time with Bennet. The lad followed me around everywhere. Darcy tells me I am at fault for this. I never should have suggested that Ben ride with me in the mornings. Bah! If I hadn't suggested it, I never would have seen the lad. It was clear to me that while Bennet followed me around, one word from his father and he was attached to Darcy for the rest of the day.
Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a son.
Thomas and Julia were expecting a child around the same time that Jennifer was due. That was the news my mother brought with to dinner one day. My father brought a bottle of port.
The idea that Thomas was reproducing frightened me, and not just because it meant that Thomas and Julia would be responsible for another person. Thomas was a wonderful, but slightly irresponsible brother who had no concept of economy or self-preservation. Julia, while kind, did have a tendency to fancy herself as a superior mother. She doted on my mother and sister when on of them had the notion to take ill. Julia delighted in sitting by the sick bed and caring for them. What in heaven's name would she do with a child who took after Thomas?
I recalled the summer Thomas was ten. There was some work being done on the roof at Matlock and most of the staff became ill while my mother and sisters were visiting some friends somewhere. This left Thomas, Darcy, and I under the care of ourselves, and we rejoiced in our freedom. Bored with fishing and swimming we were looking for an adventure. We found it. On the roof. The workmen were happy to give us some broken tools and a few scraps of wood as long as we promised to stay away from them so they could work.
With a little whittling and pounding we created a fabulous pirate ship on the roof of Matlock. It was the only way we could look out and scout the area for other pirates or land with buried treasure. We had a splendid time... until Darcy decided that Thomas should be an opposing pirate and then we could sword fight. Thomas and Darcy beat each other bloody with their wooden swords until my father drove up in his new carriage. With a bellow that could be heard in London he demanded to know what the devil we were doing.
I will never know what particular devil possessed Thomas, but something did. It's the only explanation for what he did next. Thomas raised his sword and yelled, "Avast Ye Knave! Prepare to be boarded!" He then jumped off the roof onto the roof of the carriage, my father's new carriage. Our tutor spent the rest of the summer explaining to my father how a heavy object (Thomas) will indeed break a lighter object (the carriage roof) when it hits it with enough force. We spent the rest of the summer reciting Latin.
It was nearly Easter when we finally heard from Darcy that he had a new son. The news actually came in a letter from Georgiana, who was much less busy and certainly less fatuous than Darce happened to be.
Dearest Jennifer and Richard,
It has happened. After waiting an interminable amount of time I am pleased to announce that Elizabeth has been delivered of another boy. Mother and son are doing beautifully. Giles Fitzwilliam Darcy made his entrance during the blizzard we had the first weeks of March. It was impossible for us to get the doctor, fortunately Mrs. Reynolds knew something about delivering babies, for I simply could not see Fitzwilliam trying to deliver the child. He hovers something fierce when Lizzy is expecting, and I am of the opinion that it annoys her to find him always nearby trying to help, but she never lets him see her irritation.
Do you hover Richard? I shall demand an honest answer from Jenny next time we see each other.
Back to the baby. He's beautiful! He looks very much like Bennet, who is thrilled to have a brother and happier still to have his mamma's lap back.
Fitzwilliam has just read the part about hovering and is asking Lizzy if he bothered her. She is trying very hard to keep a straight face while he pouts. Bennet and Fitzwilliam look a great deal alike, and I expect Giles will follow suit. Fortunately Bennet has his mother's personality thus far. A handsome face and a lively personality.
I wondered if the world was ready for a Darcy (or two) who are charming? I doubt it. Fitzwilliam had enough problems with females trying to catch him, and he was as lively as a rock in a blizzard.
How is Jenny feeling? Was she very sick at first? Lizzy was. We were all very glad when she was able to join us again at the table instead of running out of the room.
When will the baby arrive? Lizzy said not to expect it before summer. I fear that means you will miss the Season. Though I cannot imagine that it is a very great loss. I think I would gladly miss another parade around the marriage mart.
Lizzy says I must hand the letter over to her now so that she may add to it. Please try to come visit us soon. I love you both.
Jenny was feeling remarkably well considering her condition. Darcy had told me the stories of Elizabeth's morning sickness and I was very pleased to see the Jennifer escaped that particular fate. In fact as her time progressed she began to look even more beautiful than ever.
The next page of the letter was from Elizabeth:
Dear Jennifer and Richard,
As expected, I see Georgiana has already filled you in on the details concerning our new son. Allow me to add that he is surprisingly large and very good-natured. I am quite recovered now. Yes, Mrs. Reynolds did deliver Giles during a blizzard. I shall never again be able to ask her go over the household accounts with me without thinking that she has seen me in a most embarrassing position.
My dear husband has asked me what I mean. I believe I shall spare you all and remain silent, lest Fitzwilliam become ill from the details.
The handwriting changed abruptly and I recognized Darcy's penmanship.
Do not put credence in Elizabeth's previous statement. I am well able to listen to a story about blood without becoming weak-kneed.
I don't think so Darcy. You fainted when Thomas broke my arm and there wasn't any blood then.
Fitzwilliam, you owe me a box of cigars. I did not faint when Mrs. Reynolds told me about the birth. And you know Mrs. Reynolds, she does not leave out any detail.
The handwriting switched back to Elizabeth's.
We are staying at Pemberley this year, rather than going to London. Georgiana has decided to remain with us, although Lady Matlock did offer to chaperone her stay. Georgie says she would rather be with us than face the marriage mart again. I hope you will visit this summer. I want you to see Giles, and I have a lovely new rose bush to show you.
Elizabeth signed off after a few more notes to Jennifer. It looked like we would be visiting Pemberley soon.
We traveled the fifty some miles from Essex to Pemberley in May that year, as soon as the roads were passable enough after an unusually wet spring. The trip still took us two days, as Jennifer tired easily and I thought it best to travel lightly. Jennifer bore the discomfort of travel well and rarely complained, except for those few hours when we were stuck in a rather muddy rut and she was feeling nauseous. I cannot blame her for complaining then as she was beastly uncomfortable trying to maintain her composure as the carriage rocked back and forth in the mud while we tried to free it.
That night we stayed the night at the Red Lion on the outskirts of Essex. I often stayed there when travelling to Pemberley as it was a convenient, if rather dismal place, with a pleasant, and somewhat obsequious, proprietor with the dreadfully common name of Jones. While the inn was not the most cheerful place, it was immaculately clean and oddly enough served delicious Irish stew. It was that fact, and it's location, which kept me as a customer.
It was early when we set down for a rest. I had begun to worry a little as Jennifer was looking very peaked. She promised to rest and assured me that her spirits and temper would be revived with a wash and a nap. Meanwhile, I went to the public room for an ale and some conversation.
Darcy generally avoids public rooms when he travels, but I find it the perfect place to learn what is going on. I hear the latest information on the roads, who's gone to Nubbing Cheat, which bit of quality is in disgrace.... I even heard one about myself once:
I had been shipped home to recuperate, having contracted, while I was in India, some kind of malady, the crux of which was a nasty fever and dysentery. Finally tiring of my mother's fussing, I determined one day that I was well enough to go for a drive; I was actually wise enough to avoid riding while sick; horses are very unsympathetic to riders who pass out in the saddle. Upon my return trip, I stopped at the inn, more because I wanted a light supper than due to any feeling of faintness or tiredness. Gerald Hawkins and Robert Markam, both local farmers, and one fellow whom I had never seen before, were trading tales as I ate quietly. The new fellow was quite entertaining as he told stories about what and whom he'd seen during his travels. I chuckled at his observation that Mrs. Pickens, the rector's wife, looked a good deal like a shrew with a skin condition. And his imitation of Wellington was dead on.
"Tell us wot you know about them Fitzwilliams." called out Gerald, with a silent glint at me. I smiled into my tankard and waited.
"The Fitzwilliams? Ooooh. Them's a rotten lot that's true."
I spluttered into my ale. Well, well, this might be interesting Gerald started to protest, but I caught his eye and willed him silent. "Tell us more old man." I said.
The man told a fantastic tale of my father being an escaped Jacobite, Missy carrying on with a Duke in court, my mother was caught fleeing to France with her lover, and I was said to have gone mad from the horrors of war and was now a blithering idiot locked in the towers of Matlock. Thomas was the only sane member of the family. That Matlock has no towers, Missy was at Rosings for the summer attempting to subvert Anne, and my father's opinion of politicians ranked with Shakespeare's opinion of lawyers, in no way affected the veracity of the tale. And while I was going mad from boredom, there are few who would consider me I am a blithering idiot.
This time there was no traveler telling tales about me and my family, but a pleasant fire beckoned and I sat watching the flames.
I was looking forward to spending time with Darce and his family. During my time in the army I had not thought much about Darcy. Though we were close growing up, I felt the call of the drum too strongly to worry about those I left behind. When I was wounded and sent home I spent quite a bit of time with Darcy, and I realised that I liked his company even more now than when we were lads. And I got hurt a lot less now too.
"Jenny! Richard!" Georgiana's screech could be heard even though we were almost a half mile from the doors of Pemberley. I had a vision of Georgiana and Elizabeth's sister..... the young one... blast it all I can never remember that one's name.
Georgiana greeted us effusively and ushered us into the blue saloon where Elizabeth was seated with the children. It wasn't until after admiring the latest Darcy, and throwing Bennet into the air until he threatened to be sick, that Georgiana spirited Jennifer away for a 'chat', someday I shall understand why women find chatting so necessary, though I fear the answer; now that they had gone I was able to ask Elizabeth the name of her forgotten sister.
"Kitty? Why are you thinking about her?"
"Georgiana's performance outside reminded me of her, but I could not remember her name."
"Oh dear. I shall speak to her about her enthusiasm. I hope she did not embarrass you." Elizabeth dimpled grin made it clear that she did indeed hope I was embarrassed.
"Minx." I growled at her. She laughed and it was at this moment that Darcy walked in.
"Fitzwilliam! I'm pleased to see you kept my wife tolerably entertained in my absence."
"Indeed he did, Will. I can always rely on Colonel Fitzwilliam in your absence."
Darcy kissed her cheek, "'Tis good to know."
"Uh-Hem!" I had to do something to remind them they were not alone. There are times when Darcy and Elizabeth seem to forget there is anyone else present. They both blushed and we quickly found a topic of conversation that was suitable.
Bennet was clearly uncertain what to make of Giles. He was generally even-tempered and gentle with the baby but twice he raised a fuss: Both times Bennet had been brought in to the adults after supper. Darcy and Elizabeth allowed Bennet to remain with the family during meals and then his nurse would remove him and get him prepared for bed. Bennet was then brought back to say his good nights. Darcy took it upon himself to carry his son to bed, often not returning to us for up to a half hour. Both times Bennet misbehaved were when he was brought back after supper and found his father holding Giles.
We returned to Stanyon after a fortnight at Pemberley. When we returned we found that Stanyon needed quite a bit of work and I spent much of my time either hiring workers or supervising them. At first I attempted to make the repairs myself and soon found that while I may be able to command a battalion, I cannot, with any accuracy, hammer; a fact my thumb, and the new hole on the south roof, can attest to. While I concentrated on the repairs, Jennifer decorated. She was rather annoyed with me when I refused to discuss sofa patterns or the colour of the nursery walls. Sometimes the naivete of women amazes me. I would think that she would realise that men, specifically me, have no time to worry about such matters, and those who do need an occupation.
We did not see Darcy again for some time, though we learned from a letter that Georgiana was quite taken with a visiting friend of Darcy's, and Darcy was fearful of his intentions. Darce is going to be a candidate for Bedlam when someone finally makes an offer for Georgiana. He'll never really be over that whole Wickham affair. Jennifer tells me that I am just as protective as Darce and she pities our daughter. I fail to see how she knows the baby is a girl, my mother claims it's intuition. I think it's another mystery of the female sex; like always knowing when you've mislead them a little or bursting into tears over a butterfly.
As I was saying: while we did not see Darcy again, though we expected Elizabeth later, we did have several visitors:
My parents came for a visit, bringing Missy, and Kel also visited. Kel's visit rather surprised me. At first I was amazed that he would choose to spend time isolated in the country over the glitter and glamour of the London season. He is an entirely different creature when he is away from the ton, less cynical, more subdued than I had previously witnessed. I found we had much in common and I looked forward to his company on my ride each morning. He was well read and had a dry sense of humour which reminded me a bit of Darcy. Though I still refused to consider Kel as an acceptable suitor for Georgiana, I was less annoyed to call him a brother.
My parents visit was...... interesting. My mother insisted that Jennifer repaint the newly completed nursery; Missy sided with Jennifer. My father and I suddenly found that we had much more in common and spent a great deal of time together fishing. My father, in a jovial and relaxed manner that was entirely foreign to me, took great pains to instruct me in the wonders of fishing. Good fishing, according to His Grace the Earl of Matlock, is determined not by the amount of fish caught, but by the amount of sleep one gets while waiting for the fish to bite. On a lazy June afternoon I would tend to agree.
Jennifer had no female relatives, at least none that she could withstand living with us. There was an elderly, invalid aunt who made Mrs. Bennet look the picture of good health. Aunt Viola also disapproved of our marriage, feeling that Jennifer had thrown herself away on a second son. These things made it wise not to invite Aunt Viola to help with the baby. After the fiasco with my mother over the nursery I decided that London needed mother more than we did. And Missy's husband demanded that she return or he was going to sack the housekeeper for feeding him gruel each night. That left Elizabeth.
Thus Elizabeth and her army arrived. Elizabeth would had made a decent colonel. She brought Georgiana, Bennet, baby Giles (who had ceased looking like a turnip and now resembled his brother), two nurses, one abigail, two footmen, enough luggage to fill two carriages, and an assortment of mysterious packages, without losing anyone and arriving within one hour of her expected time.
Stanyon wasn't big enough to house that many people, so the footmen were sent back to Pemberley with instructions to return in two months. The nurses reluctantly agreed to share quarters with the abigail.... I never did learn anyone's name. Jennifer pointed out that I had other things on my mind at the time. That much is true.
To continue: Elizabeth and Georgiana, and the rest, arrived in early July and quickly took charge of Jennifer's confinement, and the rest of the house. Granted we only had a housekeeper and a gardener but Elizabeth managed them and soon had even cranky Mr. Stewart eating out of her hand. Though the house was rather noisy and busy I found I liked having Bennet around, though I grew tired of "cofiz" and as Jennifer was Aunt Jenny, I wanted to be Uncle Richard.
I took Bennet fishing twice. Neither time I was as relaxing as when my father and I went, but that is to be expected. What I did not expect was that Bennet would take it into his head that he was hot and needed to go swimming. I pulled him out and Elizabeth forbade either of us to set foot within a hundred feet of any standing water, save for bath water.
Then in late July, after a miserable period of hot stormy weather, my daughter was born.
We'd had over a week of truly horrendous weather. Jennifer alternated between weeping and snapping my head off. One night I went to say good night and found her in the nursery bustling about like a mad woman.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"This room is filthy. I specifically told Mrs. Stewart that this room needed a good cleaning but apparently she hasn't gotten around to it. Why on earth you keep that woman is beyond me. I cannot count the number of times I've asked her to do something and later found it wasn't done and Mrs. Stewart claims to know nothing about it."
I Why don't you let this go. I'll speak to Mrs. Stewart in the morning about it." I made my way over to her and wrapped my arms around her.
"Richard it's so hot."
"Yes, but that does not make you any less beautiful."
"Oh you!" She slapped my arm but leaned into me. "I'm not beautiful. I'm fat."
I kissed her hair and let it go. She was beautiful, but she'd never believe me if I said anything. I learned early on that when Jennifer says things like this I should not under any circumstance, say anything. It was while we were at Pemberley and I was hiding in the library, having said something which sent Jennifer off into a crying spell. Darcy found me there and after letting me pour out my troubles, he gave me what he said was one of the few pieces of wisdom Mrs. Bennet ever dispensed: when your wife is pregnant and irrational, be silent.
I don't know how long we stood quietly like that. That memory: holding Jennifer, her hair smelling like roses, the babe kicking my hand as I rested it on her stomach, remains one of my favourites.
The next morning Jennifer did not come down to breakfast. It wasn't unusual for her to sleep late so I thought nothing of it and went about my business for that day, which I believe involved letting Bennet visit the stables where one of my dogs had her new litter.
While Bennet was admiring the new pups, I took a few minutes to check the stables and look over the supplies.
"Richard! Richard! Where are you?!" Georgiana was sounding like Kitty Bennet again, though this time she did not sound as happy.
I popped my head outside and gave her a shout.
She ran over, "Richard it's time. Come on!"
"Time for what Georgiana?" In retrospect, I find it hard to believe I was that dense, but Georgiana insists that I looked completely befuddled.
"Richard! Honestly! Your child is being born. Come On!"
I ran off towards the house. Georgiana following closely behind me. Half way to the house I heard a shriek of terror and a little voice crying for 'cofiz'. Damn, I thought I'd cured him of that. At that moment I realised that Bennet was crying because I'd left him alone in the stable. Georgiana threw me a disgusted look and went to fetch Bennet while I ran to the house.
Once inside I encountered a flurry of activity, which in more ways than one resembled a beehive; Jennifer was lying on the sofa in the sitting room, while Elizabeth and Mrs. Stewart were busy issuing commands at any hapless drone nearby. I was directed to take my wife upstairs to her room which I did with all due haste. Well, not much haste as Jennifer was opposed to my carrying her and our walking was halted every few minutes as she froze in pain; but we made the journey and I was getting her settled into bed when Elizabeth entered and told me, bluntly, to leave.
"But, I should..." I wasn't certain what I should be doing but it wasn't leaving. I needed to do something.
"No. Go." Elizabeth pointed towards the door as Jennifer cried out in pain again. Things seemed to be getting worse and I most certainly was not going to leave my wife like this. I tried to argue but Elizabeth scowled at me. She's fierce creature when provoked.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam there are some things men were not meant to see; now leave."
"Be reasonable Elizabeth." I attempted to reason with her but Jenny cried out and Elizabeth dismissed me with a wave and a glare. I would have argued further but the doctor bustled in with Mrs. Stewart. Mrs. Stewart took me firmly by the arm and pulled me towards the door.
"Out with you Colonel. This is no place for a man." That seemed to be a popular argument in this situation.
"But he's a man." I pointed to the doctor. know I sounded childish, but I did not want to leave Jenny.
"He's the doctor. Now please, Colonel, go." Mrs. Stewart shoved me out of the room. "Everything will be fine. I'll let you know as soon as possible." And she shut the door in my face.
For the next several hours I paced the corridor, never straying very far. Finally Mrs. Stewart insisted that I eat something and give Bennet and Giles' nurse a break. Mrs. Stewart took Giles and I found myself eating and then entertaining Bennet for an hour.
We looked at maps and I pointed out all the places I had traveled and where some of the major campaigns had been. After a while I noticed that Bennet was parroting my every move and word, so I began using large words and watching him stumble over them. I was quickly looking on him with pride each time he said a word correctly. At dusk Bennet's nurse fetched him for his bedtime. He insisted he be carried by 'cofiz', and that I must carry him the way his Papa does. After several minutes of instruction I was able to position Bennet on my back the correct way and carry him to bed. My reward was a sloppy kiss and hug.
My feelings of happiness lasted five minutes; after such time I heard a loud scream and muffled cursing. Jennifer! I took the stairs two at a time and arrived at her room a trifle winded, though I suspect it was more from panic than exertion. My hand was on the knob when the door was flung open by Elizabeth.
"Richard!"
"Elizabeth what's happening? I heard a scream. Is everything alright? Why is Jennifer screaming?"
Elizabeth offered me a tired smile. "Childbirth is difficult Richard. And painful. But Jennifer is doing well and she's very strong."
"But...... Will it be much longer? She sounded so...."
"I do not think it will be much longer. Now if you'll excuse me I really only came out to check on my sons and tuck them in for the night." Elizabeth hurried off, leaving me alone in the hallway for what I hoped wouldn't be much longer.
The time grew even later and still no word, just an occasional cry from Jennifer. What is taking so long? Oh God, What if something is wrong? I had now worked myself into a complete panic, and began to understand why my father gifted me with a bottle of his best brandy, the one he found at an inn in Ipswitch shortly after a band of free-traders had departed under hasty circumstances. He gave me the bottle and told me to get good and drunk when "the time came." This was the time.
The brandy was excellent and calmed me insofar as to give me something else to think about than what was happening in that room. I am no fool. I know the risks of childbirth. We'd only begun to get over losing Danae a few years ago during childbirth. Her husband still looked like a ghost of himself.
Jennifer's cries got louder for awhile and then ceased. By his time I was mostly sober and standing guard outside of her room, and had Elizabeth not come out after Jenny's last cry I would have burst into the room, regardless of anyone's opinion of propriety.
"Richard. It's a girl."
"A girl." I repeated. Elizabeth laughed and I realised I must look a frightful sight.
"Yes, Richard, a daughter. And she's beautiful. Come. You can see them both."
She let me into the room and I had to spend a minute thanking the doctor, whose name always escapes me, before they let me near Jennifer and the baby.
Jenny smiled softly. God, she was beautiful. Even after that ordeal her smile made my heart leap. She was holding a small bundle. A very small bundle. Was that the baby? I'd never, in fact, seen a newly born babe. Still, she seemed so small.
"Richard?" I stopped staring and moved to sit on the bed. I couldn't help myself: I had to kiss Jennifer. She smiled shyly and held the baby out for me to take.
"Is she alright? Are you?" I inquired hesitantly.
"We're both well. But I am tired."
Jenny yawned and at the same time the baby did too. It struck us both as funny: like mother, like daughter.
"You can sleep." I move to a chair near the bed and held my daughter while her mother fell asleep.
I had a daughter. A perfect little person who looked remarkably like her mother, at least that's what everyone told me later. At the time I thought she looked rather like a turnip, with hair. Some time after Jennifer was asleep I laid the baby on the bed with her and watched them both sleep.
We named her Prudence Elizabeth Fitzwilliam, after her maternal grandmother and Elizabeth Darcy. Those first days Jennifer was very weak at first and rarely left her bed, except for a few times I helped her to sit outside. Fortunately Jennifer improved rapidly, due in large part to Elizabeth's unique blend of caring and callousness. Elizabeth seemed to know when Jennifer wanted to be consoled and when she needed to be told to stop pitying herself. I will never understand the female mind.
Elizabeth and Georgiana stayed on for another fortnight after the birth to help, at which point Darcy came to collect them stating that since I now had two females of my own to look after, I could easily return his.
"I should offer you my congratulations Fitzwilliam. You have a beautiful daughter." Darcy and I were alone late one evening. As he and his family would be leaving in two days this would be our last opportunity alone for some time.
"Thank you, Darce." I acknowledged his toast with my own raised glass. "But she's hardly big enough to be beautiful."
"She has her mother's colouring, and none of your more prominent features." Darcy's gesture indicated that he was referring to my nose.
"It was a lot less prominent before you broke it." I reminded him.
"I broke it? How was that my fault?"
"It was your idea and your tree."
"It was my father's tree.... and it was you who did all that bragging to Sophia and George. My role was only to fetch Mrs. Reynolds after you fell."
"It was you who told them in the first place that I was too scared to jump into the water."
"Yes, but I never suggested you climb higher and jump a second time." Darcy stared at his glass for a moment before saying, "I believe we can safely blame George for this. It was him who challenged you to jump off a higher branch and then shook the branch so that you fell."
I raised my glass to toast, "To Prudence. May she avoid boys who tell her jump out of trees."
"Hear, hear!"
We savoured the port for a bit before a thought struck me: "You know my friend we are a pair of rather lucky old fools."
"Old?" Darcy snorted "I think not."
"Well, not terribly old. But still, I feel rather lucky."
"As do I," he said quietly. We drank quietly and soon drifted into conversation about drainage for strawberry fields.
We passed the winter quietly. In January we were gifted with a great deal of snow and thus had no visitors and felt at times that we were the only ones in the world. When I was young I loved this time of year. Aside from the snow fights and ice skating, there was something..... magical about the silence that accompanied a snowfall. As a boy with a healthy imagination I spent many hours dreaming of trolls and knights and dragons while our nurse fussed over drafts and sniffles. Missy was disdainful of my fantastic tales. As the eldest she felt it her responsibility to mother me and spent much of her time admonishing me to mind the nurse and eat my gruel. My nearest sister Parthenope, who was thankfully called Polly, entered with great enthusiasm into my dreams and together we slew the dragons and rescued the villagers.
Polly died a few years later from smallpox, while I was at my third year at Eton. That winter I found Darcy was a worthwhile companion for my imagination, even if he did refuse to wear a dress and be rescued. I'm certain which bothered him more, but I suspect it was the being rescued part more than wearing a dress.
By February Jennifer was anxious for company other than myself. I cannot blame her. Jennifer is a very social creature, loving balls and morning calls and outings in Hyde Park, even Almacks provides her with amusement and conversation. It must have been terribly frustrating for her to be snowed in with only Mrs. Stewart and myself for companionship. I found her, after one particularly quiet week, showing Prudence pictures of fashions and explaining the merits of Brussels lace over Irish lace. Thus, we made plans to spend the season in London.
I began to inquire about letting a furnished house when we received a strange missive from Kel. He'd written and after chiding Jennifer for not producing him an heir, (Kel having decided that since he had no desire to marry it would be up to his sister to produce an heir), proceeded to offer us his house in town for the season as he was planning visit to Paris. I suspect Kel was plotting something, or running from someone, since I know full well he dislikes Paris in the summer. As I later discovered, Kel had a large heart where Jennifer was concerned and would move heaven and earth for her comfort and enjoyment... provided that neither of us ever acknowledged his true motives.
We arrived in London in early March, just as soon as the roads were dry enough to allow for travel. It was still early for the Season and much of society had yet to make an appearance, but Jennifer insisted on our early arrival stating that whilst Kel had an excellent housekeeper, things were never quite as clean for a bachelor as they were if the house had a lady present to oversee it. I suspect part of her enthusiasm was also due to the impending arrival of Elizabeth and Georgiana, whom we had not seen since shortly after Prudence's birth.
I was looking forward to seeing Darcy again. As I had some matters of business I wished to get his opinion on. I hoped perhaps some time at the club would give us time to go over the plans I had for Stanyon. And I was fairly certain Darcy would want to inspect my new greys: a perfectly matched pair that had a pleasing step. Darcy and I both know I am a better judge of horseflesh, but I still wished for his opinion especially concerning whether or not he thought the pair gentle enough to carry Jennifer and Prudence. Darcy had only recently bought a pair for Georgiana... in actuality he confided that the pair had been of Elizabeth, but her fear of horses made her refuse the gift. Finally it was settled that Georgiana would be given the pair and teach Elizabeth how to handle the reins. Darcy's last letter informed that Elizabeth had twice been out on her own and had not toppled the phaeton either time. Of course that was on quiet roads around Pemberley. I rather doubted that she was ready for the crush of Hyde Park. Perhaps Jennifer would be able to give Elizabeth some pointers; Jenny was an excellent horsewoman.
Jennifer and I were to dine at my parent's house one night shortly after the official start of The Season. I had business with my solicitor beforehand and Jennifer and I agree that I would simply meet her and Prudence over there. Thus, I arrived to find the normally bustling house very quiet and there were muffled sounds coming from the drawing room. Upon entering I found my wife looking pale and decidedly teary, sitting with her arm around my mother, and my normally strong mother weeping uncontrollably. My first thought was that something had happened my father or my adored but somewhat irresponsible elder brother.
Prudence gurgled noisily in her bassinet and my mother stifled another sob. I was about to ask my wife to enlighten me when the timely entrance of my father and brother dispelled any fears that my mother's hysterics were for them. I should have known the worst was yet to come.
My father informed me in broken accents that my cousin Darcy was dead.
Darcy................. dead.
"Darcy?" I froze.
My father nodded but no one made any sound for what seemed an eternity.
"My... Our.... Darcy?"
My throat constricted and I tried to clear it, but made it worse. What is everyone looking at me for? What should I be doing that I'm not? My mind quickly skimmed the events of the past few weeks. I could find nothing to indicate I would know more about this than they; yet everyone still watched me. Even Jennifer was waiting for me to do something. Finally my mother made a strangled, gulping sound and that shook me from my stupor.
"What? How?" A few words were all I could put together. I hoped they would be understood.
A carriage accident. A stupid, foolish carriage accident. Two fools had been racing down an unfamiliar road when they rounded the curve and encountered Darcy's carriage as it was returning Darcy and Elizabeth from an evening party. Something Thomas said caught my attention:
"Glenbrook and Sterling."
Oh, God...... One of the other drivers had been Sir Edmund Glenbrook. Sir Eddie. I had a sudden, intense and violent hatred of Sir Edmund. That idiotic pup had caused my family grief. I needed to kill someone and the world would be no less if he were removed.
Jennifer's voice broke through my bloodlust. "Was anyone else hurt?"
"Elizabeth?" I asked softly.
My father looked at me keenly, "She was unhurt, for all the good it will do her. Darcy and Mr. Sterling........ Both died in the crash." My father regained command of his voice.
I breathed a sigh of relief that Elizabeth was alive. She would have enough to deal with without having to suffer any other wounds. And I thanked Providence that the children were not there. At least the boys were spared seeing their father killed. Suddenly, I felt very, very tired, and leaned on the chair lest I succumb to an odd weakness in my knees. I do not know how long I stayed like that for my next conscious thought was to embrace my wife when she touched my arm in a worried gesture. I held her tightly, briefly thinking that she would disappear if I released her.
I must have let her go at some point, since I remember later comforting my parents and declining a glass of brandy. I could not help my mother with her histrionics, and I declined my father's urge to drink away the pain. I am and always have been one who prefers to act, so I did: taking myself off to the Darcy's townhouse, where I felt I could at least be of some use to Elizabeth and Georgiana.
Jennifer accompanied me, in part to offer what comfort she could to Elizabeth and Georgiana; but there was something else in her eyes, a look I did not understand though I know it was mirrored in my own.
It was very nearly dusk when we walked to Darcy's; I saw no point in harnessing up horses for a one block walk. Jennifer and I did not speak but she clung a little tighter to my arm and I tightly covered her hand with my own. I think, had it been any other day, we would have considered this a romantic stroll. But our purpose and destination precluded any such thoughts.
Elizabeth looked calm and composed. She was not as unscathed from the accident as my father had said; rather she had several bruises and one large cut above her left eye. She looked pale and tired.
"She should be in bed." Jennifer hissed. I had to agree and wondered why Elizabeth hadn't taken to her bed; how she managed to look so composed. Her composure failed her for a moment and she lowered her guard when Jennifer and I entered. It was only for the briefest moment but I could see her pain behind the carefully constructed walls. She spoke with enforced cheerfulness, I think trying to put the visitors at ease. The Darcy's house was full of people paying visits, gawking I think, but Elizabeth was graciously taking care of them all.
"Jenny. Richard. Thank you." She pressed our hands for a minute. Mrs. Cooper, a neighbour who always seemed to be in the midst of any tragedy, welcomed us, her shrill voice cutting through our silent grief. Elizabeth snapped her defences back up before turning to regain control of her house. Jennifer followed her while I stood dumbly off to the side, waiting for something to do.
Eventually I was able to ask about Georgiana, Ben, and Giles. Their nurse had taken Bennet and Giles to the nursery; Georgiana was completely overset by her brother's death and had taken to her rooms. I asked to speak with her and Elizabeth politely but firmly told me to wait until her visitors were gone. She would not call Georgiana down and subject her to the stares and whispered gossip of the neighbours. Instead, Jennifer went up to see her, and I waited, marvelling at where Elizabeth got her strength to be polite to all these people and still care for Georgiana and her own sons.
In my experience I have met two kinds of women: those like my mother and sister and Julia who were overwrought at the slightest event, and those like my Aunt Catherine who took everything in stride and never had an emotion beyond indignation. I vaguely wondered why Elizabeth and Jennifer didn't fit into either of these categories.
The others finally left, at which point Elizabeth went to bring down Georgiana and the boys. I was alone in the room for several minutes before I remembered I had meant to ask Darcy about some piece of business and rose to go find him in the library... only to be stopped at the drawing room door by the chilling memory that Darcy was gone. I'm don't recall exactly what happened next, though I found myself sitting in a chair, hands shaking, and Elizabeth holding a glass of brandy to me. She commanded me to drink it, and I obeyed, too numb to think of anything else.
Bennet and Giles watched me curiously as I drank the brandy. Well, at least Georgiana had stayed upstairs and not witnessed my humiliation. Fortunately Ben and Giles were still to young to be aware of my foolishness, and as soon as I set the glass down Bennet climbed into my lap and beckoned for Giles. I hadn't seen Giles since he was a babe and he was now just over a year old. He was very handsome, sturdy lad, and very much like Bennet. Living miniatures of Darcy
"Cofiz quishing me!" Bennet shrieked and wriggled.
"Er, I'm sorry Bennet." I mumbled and released my grip slightly.
Elizabeth looked fondly at her boys and sighed quietly. "Bennet, Giles, say good night to Colonel Fitzwilliam. It is time for bed."
"No! NO bed." Bennet said.
"Yes. Bed."
"No. NO. NO!" Bennet's shouts began to grow irritatingly loud; but Elizabeth ignored him and picked up Giles. As she walked off Bennet leapt off my lap. "Mama! Mama! Wait!"
Elizabeth stopped with a small smile and waited while Ben turned to me, "Up! Bed."
I did as I was told. Who knew my years of military training could be put to such use by a three-year-old. We took the boys to the nursery and I left while Elizabeth scrubbed and changed them.
I needed to see Georgiana. I was now her sole guardian, unless Darcy's had arranged for another. I doubted it. I knocked on Georgiana's door, fully expecting to be told to go away, so I was a little surprised when Jennifer open it and ushered me in. Jenny gave me a tight smile and nodded at the crumpled figure on the sopha.
"Georgiana?"
"Richard...." She grasped my hands and gave me watery smile. She looked awful, and promptly burst into tears as I drew her into a hug. She wept for several minutes.
"Just when I think I'm out of tears..." she sniffled. I gave her my handkerchief and tried not to laugh when she trumpeted into it.
"It's all right. I don't mind tears on my coat." I reassured her. What else could I say? I know your brother just died and all but would you mind not weeping on my coat? Jennifer would flay me; and Elizabeth would help.
"I just c..c..can't believe it...." Georgiana was muttering. "He wanted to buy me a new pelisse. We were going to go tomorrow.....And now he'll never....." She started crying again.
"Georgie. Please, Georgiana stop. It'll be all right, I promise."
"No," she shook her head. I think she wiped her nose on my coat. "It'll never be all right. Not ever again."
"Georgiana Darcy! You listen to me. Pull yourself together for a moment and listen! You cannot fall apart! Your brother would have wanted you to be strong. You got to be strong now, Georgie. Elizabeth is going to need your help with Ben and Giles." I'm afraid I spoke very harshly, though it did help her to stop sobbing.
"Here, Georgie. Drink this and then let's lie down." Jennifer handed Georgiana a glass, which she dutifully drank.
Jennifer tucked her in and led me into the hall.
"Laudanum?" I asked.
"Just a little. She needs to rest." Jennifer looked like she needed to rest as well. She answered the unspoken question. "I'll rest after she falls asleep. But I think I'll sleep in the chair next to her. In case she needs me tonight."
I kissed Jennifer gently, "I hope you do get to sleep. You look tired."
"I will. I promise."
"I'm going to see what I can do to help Elizabeth."
Jenny nodded and kissed me again. It felt really good to be close to her.
"Good night Richard."
I found Elizabeth downstairs.
"Are the boys asleep?" I asked.
"Mostly." She smiled a tired smile. "Bennet was talking his way into another story when I left."
"Yes, his powers of persuasion are considerable. Much like..."
Elizabeth smiled at me. "Much like his father. Yes."
"I'm sorry. I spoke carelessly.... I did not mean to cause you pain."
"I..... On that topic, I think pain is to be expected..... Eventually, I think, it won't seem so strange. Would you.... excuse me, please." She left the room rather quickly. I suddenly felt like the greatest fool in all Christendom. I had to find her.
She was outside, bathed in moonlight and fog -- a strange combination. I had seen a night like this once before, many years ago in South America. I was then Major Fitzwilliam, thanks to my newly purchased commission in the Rifle Brigade, and was in South America. We'd been through a terrible debacle and that night we had a bright moon as the fog rolled in low to the ground, slowly covering the dead and dying, leaving those of us left wrapped in a grey shroud and surrounded by their moans**. Within an hour you could hardly see a man stand next to you. I shivered.
"Elizabeth, you need to come inside. It's too cold outside."
She heard me and turned stiffly, "I need a few minutes to gather myself."
"Elizabeth....... I'm sorry. I want.... I need to help you.... with all of this."
She looked vacantly into the gathering fog. I began to wonder if she had even heard me when she responded:
"Thank you Richard." She smiled slightly and said, "Would you take us home please."
The two days later we set off for Pemberley.