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

“From what I hear, most of them were to meet in Matlock to stay overnight before setting out, in which case, poor Matlock has very likely raised a white flag by now, and they will all descend at the same time.” Fitzwilliam slouched down into his own chair, his head resting on the back cushion in order to better enjoy the sun’s warmth on his face. His pipe dangled from his mouth.

“Have they said why they all accepted the invitation this time? Not that I begrudge them coming, bloodcurdling thought that it is, but I believe it’s been many a year since the whole family was together for a holiday. In fact, I don’t think it’s ever occurred before. Usually in-laws or business or school claim a few casualties. This may very well violate some sort of municipal health regulation.”

“I believe they felt badly about Catherine’s passing, thought perhaps we all needed the support.” Fitzwilliam took a puff on his pipe and grew serious for just a moment, staring absently down the long road. “They have all turned out to be truly splendid people, really—proud of each and every one. I mean, if you can ignore the shootings and screaming.”

“Elizabeth tells me that Anthony, however, will be absent, that he is traveling to Egypt”—Darcy turned his piercing gaze toward Richard—“along with the very elegant Sir Edmund Percy. That’s rather a surprise, don’t you think? He’s rarely missed a holiday before in my memory. And as a matter of fact, how does he even know Sir Edmund?”

Richard became very still.

“Is there anything you wish to finally share with me, Richard?” It was highly diverting to watch his cousin squirm as he did. “You know how futile it is to try and keep anything from me—I shall drag the truth from you one day.”

“Well, their acquaintance is of long standing—only natural, really—they are both members of the Royal Academy Board, both interested in antiquities.” He was withering under Darcy’s relentless stare. “I know nothing,” he finally blurted out. Fitzwilliam’s eyes went everywhere but to his cousin. “Good God, it’s like having two wives,” he mumbled.

***

They sat in silence then, their minds going over the past years and the loved ones who would not be joining them this Easter.

Lady Catherine, the Grande Dame, passed shortly after her beloved daughter, Anne. Losing Anne had taken the desire to live from the old girl, and in the last few weeks of her life, her mind began wandering to prior days. She was once again aghast at that impudent Elizabeth Bennet, fought her battles with that horrible American Amanda Penrod, and chased her “horrid little nephews” after they disrupted one of her parties. She also redecorated constantly, now only in her mind, but always of the highest quality. The entire family missed the daffy old woman dreadfully.

For many, many years, between the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams, there had been a constant flurry of children, carriages, nannies, and dogs throughout elegant Mayfair, and then all those children had also descended merrily upon Aunt Catherine’s for tarts, biscuits, and cakes. Mayfair would never look the same again.

Mr. Bennet had passed away over twenty years before, followed the next year by Charlotte Collins in childbirth. Mr. Collins was inconsolable for many months until he finally found his comfort with Mary Bennet, who had been secretly yearning for him the whole while.

Caroline Bingley had finally married a very wealthy tradesman and had settled in Edinburgh. She never had children and quickly regretted her removal from London society. London society, it can be reported, did not return the sentiment.

Lady Penrod died a short four years after Amanda and Richard’s marriage, and Harry immediately became one of the wealthiest nine-year-olds in London, inheriting both her London townhome, where he now lived with his own family, and another home in the Lake District.

Fitzwilliam and Amanda had eight children besides their wonderful Harry. His brother, Regis, passed two years after their marriage, and his beloved father passed five years after that, thereby making Richard the seventh Earl of Summerton. Happily, the sixth earl had lived long enough to meet the eighth earl, along with several spares.

Darcy and Elizabeth had three children altogether. He was now Sir Fitzwilliam Darcy, knighted for his outstanding leadership in his beloved Derbyshire and for his innovations in drainage.

Georgiana had married a naval lieutenant and had two lovely children, a boy and a girl. Her husband was now an admiral. Incredibly wealthy, he had traveled several times around the world for the crown, often with his beautiful family in tow.

Wickham was killed by the drunken husband of some woman with whom he was having an affair, and Lydia quickly married another “bad hat,” as Lizzy would say. No one heard from her very often anymore.