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

She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, you are never an ass, Darcy.”

He shook his head in disgust.

“I did say, ‘Surprise.’ And I am not insane, as you say, or an idiot. I know what I want and shall not be denied.”

“Bah! If you are not insane or an idiot, I recommend you not breed. Madness could be hereditary!”

“Darcy, do grow up!” She slapped the bed, sounding exasperated. “We are both adults, and there is no one who would know. Surely you must remember that the regent’s court is quite sophisticated. No one thinks twice about this sort of thing.” She pouted at his wrath. “Oh, you used to be much more fun.”

“I am married, you idiot! Your brother is one of my dearest friends! His wife is my sister-in-law! Gad, I cannot believe even you would do this, Caroline,” he huffed, trying to clear his head but feeling nearly as drunk as when he had retired. “Besides, our one brief moment together was over ten years ago, and I have moved on with my life, matured. What in the world would make you think I was even remotely interested in you? I really wasn’t much interested back then, and believe me, madam, I am even less interested now.”

She pursed her lips, vastly annoyed at his comments. “If you would only but notice I am in even better looks than I was when we were younger. Don’t tell me you have lost all interest in sex since you married that country frump?” She sat upright in the bed, leaning back on her hands, thrusting her body into a seductive pose. “Or has she completely turned you away from the sport?”

She finally really looked at him, noticed his stance, his facial expression. Everything revealed his sincere disgust of her, and she began a slow rage.

“You’re like a bitch in heat, Caroline, and I don’t mean that in a Carlton House good way either. Truthfully, the only thing I do see from here, Miss Bingley, is that you are not a natural redhead. Good evening, madam,” Grabbing his coat, he stormed out the door, slamming it on a tirade of curses and crockery from within. He was down the stairs in a moment, somehow saddled and mounted his horse, and was gone within fifteen.

It was still the middle of the night, however, dark and starless, and he was still drunk. He made his way as far as the Longbourn barns, where he collapsed into a mound of hay, falling fast asleep, his preferred companion to a scheming redhead being the old mama cat who curled herself up at his back. He slept as an innocent, deeply and gratefully, having escaped “the Viper’s” clutches once again.

***

Unfortunately, however, he had not remembered to retrieve Lizzy’s locket from his nightstand.

Chapter 18

Darcy’s return to Rosings late the following afternoon was greeted with much excitement by his wife, relieved that the visit had been so much shorter than expected. She explained that the baby had missed him and that she was no longer comfortable sleeping alone, especially in that large, cold bed. They retired to their rooms soon afterward, and she watched as he removed his dusty riding clothes, curiously encrusted with hay, and as he handed his baggage to his valet to unpack. While he loosened his neck cloth, a hot bath was being prepared for him, and he slumped back on the settee, his arm snug around her waist.

“Did you see Bingley?” she asked.

“No, he wasn’t there at all,” he replied truthfully, omitting the fact that Caroline had been.

“I didn’t think he would be. You know that letter from Jane I failed to open? It appears they are vacationing for the month. Why ever did he ask you to meet him at Netherfield, then?”

He mumbled something and then kissed her forehead, telling her that his errand had been for nothing. “Just a miscommunication,” he muttered into her ear. She quickly forgot it, happy he was safely home with her again.

“The big discussion at the moment,” Lizzy informed him, “is Lady Catherine’s sponsoring of Georgiana for her presentation at court! We have been up all night, talking.” Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Darcy was soon laughing and marveling at her energy.

“We have even been pressing Fitzwilliam into rehearsing his services as escort, practicing the delicate art of train maneuvering.”

“Is he any good?” Darcy shook his head in laughter.

“He nearly decapitated her, insists he cannot possibly be expected to work with tablecloth. We might need the real thing on which he can practice. Something in silk may be easier for him to handle.”

“I wish I could share your excitement about this, but I am dreading her entrance into society. I won’t have my baby sister anymore.”

Lizzy smiled her understanding. He was such a very good man, and he looked so boyish with that wistful, half smile on his face. “She will always be your little sister, my love; you both will always be there for each other. But it is time she was allowed to spread her wings. We cannot delay this any longer.”

Just then Georgiana knocked softly on their door. “Might I enter?” The quality of her voice seemed suddenly very grand and sophisticated to her brother’s ears.