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

“And what of the staircase, Mrs. Darcy, that gloriously lethal block of greased suicide? Perhaps now you will tell me you had a footman assist you down the staircase, as I instructed you to do?” He loomed over her, his hands fisted at his waist, her shoes now badly mangled. “And do not bother to lie to me, Elizabeth. I have already asked.”

She blinked her eyes rapidly, caught in his trap like a rat. “I walked very slowly and carefully, and held onto the banister.” She hated him when he was right.

“Elizabeth, I confess I do not understand your flippancy. If you did not truly desire children, you should have told me outright!” Darcy knew the moment the words were said that he had jumped far over the line.

“Mr. Darcy!” She was up in a shot. “That is a terrible and unfeeling thing to say.” Tears immediately welled within her eyes, and Darcy at once regretted his outburst.

“Dammit, woman. Forgive me, but I am very concerned. You have had so many problems with this pregnancy—the nausea, the swelling, the exhaustion. I want you in a controlled environment where I can ensure your safety and the child’s health.”

“Mr. Darcy,” she choked out in anger, “I was at Charlotte Collins’s home, not insanely rolling around in a field somewhere. We were with my father and Mr. Collins, two gentlemen who are capable of summoning help on the off chance that I would become seriously ill. And I was careful on the stairs! I was! If you think me so thoughtless and heartless that I would endanger our baby on a whim, then you should have entrusted this task to another and not have married me.” With that, she hurriedly padded past him and headed toward the grand staircase, stumbling awkwardly in her haste, slipping once in her stocking feet on the slick surfaces. She clutched at the railing for support.

“Elizabeth! Slow down, and be careful!!” Darcy was at her side in a flash, grabbing at her arm. However, there was no way in the world that Elizabeth wanted to be touched by her husband at that particular moment, so she roughly pulled her arm away and used both hands to steady herself as she climbed the stairs. Darcy had no recourse but to walk behind her, angrily grumbling, all the way to the top.

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were not seen at dinner that evening, but they were, unfortunately, heard.

***

At dawn on the following morning, a contrite Darcy pulled his wife’s back against him in bed and kissed the nape of her neck. “Cut line, Lizzy,” he whispered, his hands tenderly cupping her breasts. “You cannot still be angry with me.” He could hear the chuckle as she rolled onto her back and looked up into those beautiful eyes she loved so dearly.

“Never tell me! I thought you were still mad at me.”

“Well, yes, but you look so beautiful when you sleep, especially with your mouth shut, that I can’t hold onto anything but absolute adoration.”

“Does that insulting line generally work with all your wives, Mr. Darcy?”

“We’ll soon see,” he whispered back.

***

Lizzy and Darcy were very late for breakfast that morning, everyone else finished and discussing the day’s activities. When they entered the dining room, they were both smiling like lunatics. Elizabeth avoided Aunt Catherine’s eyes, realizing that she had just enthusiastically participated in activities that would certainly ‘frighten the baby,’ while Darcy looked around the room in a smugly contented manner.

“God, but everything smells wonderful in the morning, especially food…” He patted his stomach as they made their way to the sideboard.

“Yes, and especially when you haven’t eaten the night before,” muttered Lizzy.

“Well, thank heavens you are both up; it’s nearly time to change into afternoon caps. I was afraid you would be ill all day.” Lady Catherine eyed them warily then turned to order the replenishment of the breakfast buffet. “You were ill earlier, were you not?” Lizzy and Darcy nodded once and then avoided all further eye contact. “Oh, Darcy, you’ve had another letter delivered here. It’s on the salver.”

Darcy walked over to pick up the letter as Elizabeth passed behind her father, distracting him with a kiss atop his head while stealing leftover toast from his plate. She bent down to kiss Georgiana on her cheek.

At that moment, Fitzwilliam came sauntering into the room. “Good Lord,” he groaned loudly when he caught sight of Darcy’s preposterous grin. “Taking to sleeping in, I see.” He walked over and took a plate from the footman stationed at the buffet. “ Very reminiscent of Pemberley, I must say. And there is joy once again in paradise. Thank heaven.”

“Fitzwilliam, is this not now your third breakfast? How in heaven’s name can the empire afford to keep you fed?” Catherine studied her nephew’s plate in awe.

“Well, dearest, actually, I have been known to shoot new recruits for their rations.” He sat down happily and buttered his bread. “And besides, I much prefer to think of this as my first lunch.”

Chapter 15

Darcy read the note from Bingley with alarm.

Dear Darcy,