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

Catherine watched her for a while and then nodded her head. “Bold words for some, but I believe you. You certainly love your son a great deal. Anyone with that much devotion for one person usually exhibits the capacity for the same amount of devotion to others whom she loves.”

“I only wish Richard could understand my situation better.” Amanda spoke so softly that Catherine had to strain to hear her. The girl was staring blindly out the window, again drying her tears with the back of her hand.

“I don’t think a man could ever understand what a mother would do for her child, though I was pleased to see that Richard feels paternal attachment already. But men could never feel the bond that a mother feels, could they? To have life grow beneath your heart for so long. I may regret admitting this, but I do empathize with you, Amanda. Perhaps he will also, in time.”

“I hope so, Lady Catherine.” Amanda felt the tears welling again in her eyes and rested her head back on the settee.

“When did you lose custody of your child?”

Amanda inhaled deeply before she answered. “It was while I was in America, two years ago. I had gone home to nurse my father, who had developed consumption. Regardless of what my late husband later said, he did know I was going and why, and that I planned to return. My father subsequently died.”

“My Anne was also felled by a weakness in her lungs. But this was from birth, a premature birth. She has been fighting for her health all her days, as have I for her.” Lady Catherine’s voice was calm and quiet.

“Have you visited any of the lung clinics?”

“Of course I have, young woman,” Lady Catherine snapped. “What a ridiculous question! We have tried everything. Initially, my husband resisted treatment for her, preferring to deny any imperfection in his child. By the time we investigated, it was too late, wasn’t it? Men always believe they know best.” They both shared a womanly nod and an understanding eye roll at the follies of husbands before they looked away from each other.

“I was unaware that I had lost custody until we returned and my mother-in-law took Harry from me. Apparently, Augustus was on his way to America to claim his son when his ship went down.” She lowered her head. “He, too, betrayed my trust.”

Catherine was very quiet. “It seems we have both had some unfortunate experiences with husbands. Well, Amanda, we have never had a marriage fail in this family, and I certainly could not allow one to do so on my watch.”

“Richard can be rather bullheaded, Lady Catherine.” Amanda hiccoughed.

Even as she contemplated what her new niece said, Catherine’s mind had begun to wander. She smoothed out her dress and patted down her flyaway hair. I must have my seamstress let out this gown. It has grown considerably smaller with cleaning. I imagine she is using much cheaper material. Thankfully, I haven’t paid her in quite a while. “Tell me, madam, were your parents long in the colonies? Did they reside in England before they emigrated?”

“No, Lady Catherine, they were both at least third-generation Americans.”

A clearly disappointed Catherine shrugged. “Ah, well. Pity, that.” Catherine’s gaze drifted up and down Amanda’s face and figure. She certainly was a beautiful young woman with graceful manners, straight white teeth, nice skin. Quite surprising, really, considering her disgusting origins. With proper training and decent clothing, she could be almost presentable.

If only she wouldn’t speak.

“Your parents were both of English descent, however, were they not?” Have pity on me, please, dear merciful Savior in heaven.

Amanda eyed the old dragon, barely suppressing her grin. “Well, actually, Lady Catherine, my father was half Scottish as well as half English; however, he was a staunch Royalist until his death.”

“As well he should be, and even beyond.” Catherine was beginning to warm to this family. “Well, that is very commendable and, may I say, surprisingly welcome news. Now what of your mother, madam? I trust that she was fully English.”

Amanda forced herself to look away and not to laugh outright. “My mother was lamentably only partly English, your ladyship.”

Catherine frowned. She truly hated flies in her family ointment. “I see, I see. Might one enquire what her other ‘part,’ as it were, was?”

Amanda locked her gaze onto Catherine’s. She felt, rather than heard, Catherine’s breathing stop with anticipation.

“My mother was half Abenaki.”

Catherine blinked for a few moments.

“I beg your pardon?” she questioned her politely. “Is that somewhere in Wales?”

Amanda steeled herself. “No, your ladyship. Actually, that is not a city. It is an Indian nation. American Indian. The Abenaki people are located mostly in Maine—northern Maine to be precise. My grandmother was of the Passamaquoddi tribe.”