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

“Fitzwilliam, are you in there? Fitzwilliam!” she called out as the footman forced the business-office doors open. “Why has this door been bolted?” When she looked closer at her nephew, she saw that he looked like death itself, his hair standing on end, a half-empty bottle of whiskey at his side. “Whatever is the matter?” She saw nothing but disaster in his bloodshot eyes.

“Evidently we took care of that gray mold, but now—brace yourself, woman—now we may have leaf yellowing. Damnation for this cursed bad luck of ours!” He took a giant pull straight from the bottle. “By the way, what the hell is leaf yellowing?”

“Do not tell me that you spent two hours last Easter boring me to tears with your explanation of Linnaean taxonomy and you cannot figure out what leaf yellowing is. They are leaves that turn yellow, and we eliminated them last month.”

He growled, slamming his hand down on the desk in exasperation.

Crossing to his side Catherine began to rummage wildly through a disordered pile of receipts from the desk. “Are you still trying to do those books?” she demanded incredulously.

“I am not altogether convinced that your estate manager had an accident.” He snatched the receipts back. “He was more than likely taking the easy out and attempting suicide.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I would never allow him to commit suicide before he finished the books! You must be mad.” She promptly walked around to the front of the desk.

“We are going to visit Longbourn tomorrow morning. Please arrange for the carriage to be ready at nine.”

Fitzwilliam grimaced and rubbed his hand raggedly over his face, slouching farther into the chair. She had a scrawny old neck that he could break like a twig. Tossing his pen onto the desk, he cast a malevolent look at her.

“Gracious, toughen up, will you? Why, when I was your age, I was a wife and a mother and the most brilliant hostess in all of London. I could throw a party for three hundred, go without sleep for days on end, and yet be ready at a moment’s notice for Lord Louis’s political meetings. I will have you know, young man, that in those long ago days, my opinion was greatly regarded in the highest circles of government.”

“Excellent,” he said as he handed her the ledger and walked from the room. “Then you finish up—I’m going to bed.”

***

Late the following morning, Elizabeth and Jane were resting in their mother’s room, looking through some of her keepsakes. To Elizabeth’s amusement, there was little to be found among them of her childhood or, for that matter, the childhood of any of her sisters, but Jane’s life was on display from birth until her marriage. Locks of hair, notes on her progress, dance cards from assemblies.

“I seem to have been somehow misplaced in here”—she smiled and indicated the albums—“along with my poor sisters, save but one.”

Jane was humming a lullaby as she sat in her rocker, nursing her baby. “I was the first born, Lizzy. Firstborns are always fussed over more.”

“I am not offended, Jane. I only wish I could have had the kind of closeness with my mother that you enjoyed.”

“I truly think she would have wanted that, too, but then you were always much closer to Father, weren’t you? You and Father were both cleverer than the rest of us. I imagine it probably intimidated her.”

Lizzy leaned over to stroke the head of the baby as it nursed, then touched her own stomach absently. Darcy and she had decided that no one would be told of her pregnancy until they were reasonably certain that it would be successful.

They sat in silence for several minutes, Lizzy poring over old letters and Jane staring contentedly out the window.

“Lizzy?”

“Yes, dearest?”

“I noticed at luncheon yesterday that you avoided Caroline but spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Do you still feel a strained relationship with Charles’s sister?”

Lizzy broiled inside at the very thought of that wanton but schooled her appearance to appear complacent. It was neither the time nor place to have her talk with Jane about Caroline.

“I am sorry if in any way I offended you or Charles. It was not my intention. I was only lost in my own thoughts.”

“I don’t think anyone noticed.” Jane placed her baby across her shoulder to rub its back. A small burp, one of a mother’s greatest rewards, quickly followed. She settled the child at her other breast. “Darcy was attentive to her, kind and thoughtful as always, so I don’t think she noticed anything untoward.”

Lizzy froze. “Was Darcy speaking with her? I hadn’t realized.” She spoke evenly as she refolded the letters. At that moment, a terrified-looking serving girl knocked on the door. With a pale face and a trembling voice, she whispered that there were visitors downstairs.

Chapter 10