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

They stood frozen for several moments. “Steady on, old girl.” Fitzwilliam struggled valiantly against the urge to laugh.

Catherine stared straight before her and swallowed. “Richard, really… you know how… Richard, I dislike… cant terms… such as ‘old girl’… Was that a pig?!” she finally spit out.

His chin hit his chest as he bit his upper lip. It was a while before he could speak. “Actually, I believe that was dinner.”

She winced and paled.

“Remember, dearest, in warfare it is always best to choose your battles.” He squeezed her elbow gently. “Shall we proceed?”

She shut her eyes again and nodded.

***

Compassion replaced the apprehension that had nearly paralyzed Lizzy after sending the serving girl to find Darcy. There was true anxiety in the face and mannerisms of the proud woman who stood before her, and Lizzy curtseyed respectfully to her new aunt. “Lady Catherine, I cannot tell you how happy we are that you are here.”

Catherine nodded, nervously shifting her feet. “I am very sorry for your loss, Elizabeth. Please accept my condolences to you and to your family.” Her voice wavered only once, and she cleared her throat, pulling fretfully at her gloves before continuing. “It was never your mother’s fault, nor her wish, I am sure, that her garden is so small.” Fitzwilliam turned his head to the side, coughing once to cover his bark of laughter.

“That is very kind of you to say, Lady Catherine.” Lizzy motioned for them to be seated. “Your condolences are dearly appreciated.”

“It’s Aunt Catherine, now, Elizabeth.” Catherine bestowed upon her a brief, strained smile that quickly faded. She stared at the ceiling, perhaps hoping to discover written there some mutually enjoyable topic of conversation. Finding nothing, she sighed.

“It’s good to see you also, Richard, dear friend. How are you able to be away from Paris at this time?”

“I am on the diplomatic circuit, Elizabeth. I have been shuttling between London and Paris for several weeks now.”

At that moment, Darcy entered the room. “Your ladyship,” he said quietly as he walked toward his aunt and bowed, taking both her hands to kiss. Her eyes were on Darcy and him alone now. She fought back a warm smile that would have betrayed her joy, but her eyes grew moist with emotion.

“You look very well, Darcy, indecently so. Marriage certainly agrees with you. How is your heart?” She poked her finger into his hand to see if an indentation remained which would expose his water retention. There was none. She nodded in relief and smiled.

“My heart is quite well, Aunt Catherine. Thank you.” He took a step toward Fitzwilliam, and they both shrugged at each other before pulling up their chairs.

***

The four sat down and made small talk for a while, Elizabeth surprised that her reaction to Lady Catherine was so different from their initial meeting. Perhaps living with Darcy has made me more compassionate. A strong feeling of love for this new family of hers welled up within her.

Like Darcy, Catherine was accustomed to a world where people jumped when she spoke, where people never entertained the thought of voicing an opinion contrary to hers. The Darcys and the de Bourghs and, for that matter, the Fitzwilliams, all took for granted their world of privilege, would know no reaction to their existence other than acquiescence to whatever they wished.

Experiencing a surge of empathy for Catherine, Lizzy noted the way the older woman looked at Darcy, all the love of a mother toward her own son. In the end, it turned out they had something very important in common after all—they both loved him dearly. Absently, Lizzy placed a hand on her stomach. She must have had a smile on her face, because she noticed Catherine was looking straight at her.

“Elizabeth?” Catherine looked deeply into Elizabeth’s eyes. “You are with child, aren’t you?” Elizabeth’s and Darcy’s heads shot up with a start, and Fitzwilliam let out a hoot.

“Are you, Elizabeth?” he asked with delight.

Darcy knew not what to say, but Elizabeth answered happily, “Yes, Aunt Catherine, I am.”

“All right, Catherine, I realize you know all and see all, but how on earth did you divine that?” His aunt amazed Fitzwilliam with her ability to wheedle information from people that they had previously been able to keep secret from the rest of humanity.

“Well, Fitzwilliam, if you did something more than ride horses all over the Continent, drink inferior brandy, and chase loose women, you would be able to spend some time studying human nature. Elizabeth has placed a gentle hand on her stomach each time I have asked about her health, and then she has looked contentedly at her husband.” Catherine smiled proudly.

“You are a wonder, Aunt!” he proclaimed.

“Yes, of course I am.” She was mildly surprised that the fact even needed to be voiced.

***