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

“You see”—Darcy’s eyes looked cheerless—“she’s already speaking as if she’s a forty-year-old duchess.”

Lizzy giggled and patted his cheek lovingly. “Enter, Your Grace,” she called out.

The door was flung open to reveal Georgiana with her nose high in the air. She was wearing her childish flannel nightgown, the bosom of which was heavily padded beneath the material, giving her an overweight, matronly appearance. A tiara of dead flowers sat upon her head, and a tablecloth was tied around her neck, resembling a long white train. Epaulets from one of Fitzwilliam’s old uniforms dangled from her ears. Lastly, her feet were encased in old socks, and she held Darcy’s walking stick in her hand as if it were a scepter. She glided regally into the room, ruining the effect completely by bumping into a chair and rubbing her knee for a moment before standing up straight.

“You will now address me as the Grand High Exalted and Honorable Lady Georgiana Catherine Darcy, spinster, if you so please.” She raised a quizzing glass of their late uncle Louis’s to her eye to observe Darcy and Elizabeth. They all burst into laughter.

“Well, perhaps I have nothing to worry about just yet.”

***

The following week, Darcy left with Mr. Bennet early in the morning, returning his father-in-law to Longbourn. Although Mr. Bennet had been horrified at the prospect of meeting Lady Catherine, going so far as to publicly bemoan his fate at being away from his books and projects for so long a time, it was with some degree of sadness that he left her company and Rosings Park. He shivered a bit at the thought of his empty house.

Darcy turned a concerned glace at him across the carriage. “Are you chilled, sir? We can stop for more hot bricks at the next station.”

“No, William, I am quite warm. I was only thinking of Lady Catherine.”

Darcy’s momentary surprise turned to amusement. He nodded at his father-in-law. “She has had the same effect on many a younger and heartier person than yourself, sir.”

Mr. Bennet smiled. “She certainly is a force to be reckoned with, is she not?” He turned his gaze out the carriage window, his mind drifting back in time for a moment. “You know that she was generally regarded to be the great beauty of the county in her day, do you not? I myself was quite enamored of her—from afar, of course. Many a young buck was.”

Darcy smiled at the thought of Lady Catherine as a flirtatious young girl or as a beauty driving youthful Corinthians to distraction. “I am afraid that I can only think of her as my beloved aunt or as a well-coifed battering ram, depending upon her mood.”

“I understand completely. Thinking of a parent figure as once enjoying youthful urges is a repellent and unpleasant undertaking for the young.” Mr. Bennet suddenly laughed and turned to Darcy. “Shall I tell you something you may find even more disturbing?”

Darcy smiled back at him and nodded. “Feel free to do so, sir.” Knowing Mr. Bennet’s humor to be so similar to Lizzy’s, he had learned to appreciate their talks more and more.

“I find her still damned beautiful.”

Chapter 19

Elizabeth had been spending more and more of her visit in her room, her swollen feet once again worrying her and her back throbbing. She received word of Caroline Bingley’s visit as she sat drinking chocolate and resting. “Downstairs?!” she gasped. “Here?! To see me?!” She could scarcely believe her maid as the young girl ran off to search for a pair of slippers that would fit.

Elizabeth was frozen with fear. Dear God. Here, in the same home, were the two people that she feared most in the world. What if Lady Catherine turned on her now? She was in no physical shape to take them both on at once. Her first instinct was to take the coward’s way out and faint. I should really remain in my room, bolt the door, and send down my regrets. It is what William would want me to do. It is definitely unhealthy for me to venture anywhere, being as I am so unsteady and wobbly. Then suddenly, she noticed that the swelling in her feet had receded. “Traitors,” Elizabeth hissed.

Her trust in Catherine was tenuous, her confidence in herself as solid as jam preserves. This will not go well for me, I fear. She struggled to her feet. Why is William never here when I need him? Where is Fitzwilliam? Perhaps he can come down with me. She sent her maid off to find him as a footman arrived to help her slowly make her way down into the parlor.

***