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

“More than likely his meetings went over time. Perhaps he has taken refuge for the night. You know very well that my brother, Charles, can easily become muddled. Business affairs go quite over his head. He doesn’t possess your natural brilliance and experience. Frankly, I am of the belief that his attentions have been so taken with his marriage and new family that a problem arose of which he was unaware until it grew too late. He is most fortunate to have a friend like you to whom he may turn.”

Darcy had never been someone who appreciated or sought out flattery and was becoming more and more guarded with Caroline’s adulation. In possession of an accurate and honest opinion of himself, knowing most of his own strengths and admitting to more than a few weaknesses, he rarely courted others’ approval. He eyed Caroline narrowly. Her brother had left the house and never returned, and she appeared unconcerned by it all? Something was not right about all this. The Caroline he knew was many things: self centered, amoral, cruel, calculating, and diabolical. However, she was a good sister. She loved her brother.

He was also keenly aware that they were alone, late at night, in this big house deep in the country, thirty miles away from his wife, a wife who would slaughter him if she ever found out. Good God. He had a mental image of three cackling Lizzies standing before a caldron, stirring and stirring what appeared to be his head grinning from the pot, his eyebrow raised in slight alarm. He chuckled and looked toward the fireplace.

“It’s so good to see you smile and relax, Mr. Darcy. You are devastatingly handsome at rest but even more so when you smile. I daresay that your responsibilities have more than doubled now with your new family. I’m sure that you often wish to have some time away from all those obligations and give yourself… relief?” Above her wineglass, she smiled wickedly at him, the last word of that sentence a taunting question. Darcy’s heart started to quicken as her tongue licked the rim of her glass. She had a long, soft tongue—he remembered that.

“It is too late now for you to return to your aunt’s estate. More’s the pity, the roads are treacherous after all this rain we’ve had. Charles would insist that you stay here in your old rooms this night. He will return soon, I am quite certain, possibly even later this evening. Let us retire into the drawing room and have our brandy.”

***

As they sat and talked before the warm fire, the effects of the wine and the brandy began to percolate, and Darcy had to remind himself not to have too much of a pleasant evening. But, God in heaven, it was a relief to be away from the stress of the baby and the estate problems of his aunt’s, his sister’s fears about the upcoming presentation, his cousin’s guilt from the war—even if for just a few hours. Yes, it was like old times to sit here with Caroline and flirt and laugh and gossip about old friends. And drink. How long since he had felt the effects of a tad too much alcohol? In fact, he was already good and foxed. He closed his eyes as the room spun around him, resting his head on the back of the chair while he loosened his neck cloth. He shook his head vigorously and squeezed his eyes. Nothing was helping.

“Are you tired, Darcy? It is getting very late. Perhaps we should go upstairs to bed?” He was startled awake by Caroline’s husky tone.

“No, no, ’m fine, Caroline. ’M a bit sleepy, though. Oh, thank you. And just what is this brandy called?” He reached out his glass to the footman who had opened a new bottle. “It’s actually very good. Very smooooth. Barely feel a thing.”

“Well, that settles it. You will be staying tonight, seeing as you, my friend, are well into your cups. I’m certain Charles will be along by the morning.”

Doubt and suspicion struggled for a coherent foothold in Darcy’s well-oiled brain. His eyes narrowed at her, making Caroline begin to giggle. “Upon my word, of what are you afraid, Darcy? I am but a small, frail woman, and our history is long over, is it not?”

“Actually, Caroline, m’ dear, ’m afraid we really have no history.” Ha! Surprised her with that one. Darcy tried to keep his voice steady and friendly and his mind alert. She was still somewhere in that room. Had to be alert with Caroline, he remembered that.

“Well, then, you have no reason to refuse my hospitality. We are both of us adults, Darcy, and old intimate friends. If Charles has not returned by tomorrow, we can send a note around to see why he has been detained.”

It all sounded so very reasonable to him, the words she spoke ones of hospitality and kindness, so why did he feel so guilty? Ach! He was just so bloody tired. Darcy shook his head to clear the fog that had settled in, and rubbed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Is something wrong?” Caroline asked innocently.