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

“What do you mean, ‘Nice to see you; whatever are you doing here?’” She looked curiously at him. The girls all squealed and giggled, batting their eyelashes and whispering to her their wishes for introduction. “You just sent me on a breakneck tour around this room, which was no walk in Hyde Park, I might add, in order to get you an introduction, and you end up storming across the ballroom like a man possessed!” Georgiana had an annoying tendency toward honesty, a habit of saying exactly what she was thinking the moment she thought it. Fitzwilliam briefly considered gagging her mouth.

“Well, I am sure I have no knowledge of what you are speaking,” he murmured then raised his brows in what he hoped would be some sort of silent communication to her to keep her unholy trap shut. “I happened to see this lovely lady being accosted by some anonymous soldiers and came to offer her my assistance.”

“You mean Ned Jeffries? And Bachman? I swear I saw Bachman sidle over here. I thought you knew them. Ooh! You did, didn’t you? Yes, of course, you were all on the same cricket team for several years, and didn’t Bunty play football with you and Brother at Harrow?”

Not wanting to eavesdrop on the two cousins’ whispered conversation, Amanda had been watching the excited debutantes with great amusement. They were bouncing up and down, awaiting their moment to impress the famous “Colonel of Waterloo,” edging Amanda and Emily farther into the background. When Georgiana finally began the introductions, the girls squealed anew, gushing and jockeying for closer positions. They preened and flirted, fanning themselves ragged, competing so outrageously that a scuffle began between them, and just when the whole situation threatened to get downright ugly, it was announced that Daddy Hill and Sir Frederick Maitland had just arrived. The herd stampeded in their direction.

“Fame is fleeting,” marveled Fitzwilliam and turned again to his Beauty.

Amanda laughed. “Thank you so much, Colonel, for coming to my assistance. I apologize if I have caused you any alarm.”

“Not at all, madam.” He took her hand and held it gently. “It is I who should apologize to you for the behavior of the younger officers. Often at these little parties, there is too much wine and not enough common sense.”

She was introduced to him then by Georgiana as the widow of the deceased baronet Augustus Penrod, and the young girl as the late baronet’s young cousin, after which Georgiana tugged on his sleeve. “Excuse me, dearest of Cousins,” a clearly perplexed Georgiana said with a sigh, “but I am still somewhat confused. About those soldiers who were bothering Lady Penrod—did you not rent a villa in Capri with Major Bachman just two years ago?”

“And her mouth continues unchecked…” Fitzwilliam returned his gaze to Amanda. “Ignore her, madam,” he said. “We all do,” he concluded under his breath.

“I hope that the officers were not too forward with you, Lady Penrod. I will be happy to have a word with them and make certain they apologize to you directly. I can assure you that I will enforce strict disciplinary measures on them all.”

“Oh, no, please don’t bother yourself. I am just so thrilled and honored that you, of all people, came to my rescue.”

Fitzwilliam felt like a strutting peacock.

Chapter 7

For the next two hours, the glittering favored of London society stood up for their dances or sat for their gossip, changed partners with elegant nonchalance, chatted and visited and basked in the intoxicating glow of too much money coupled with too many choices and much too much time. Everyone wanted to be seen and heard, and no one cared much about listening. It was all a performance, honed and perfected over centuries, a familiar presentation that allowed for no surprise conclusions as it continued unchecked through the night. Indeed, to the teeming multitude, it secretly felt as if the orchestra had been playing eternally.

The couple sat alone on the fringes of the assembly, he a high-ranking British officer condescending to speak with a forgotten widow of low status, an unfortunate meeting of complete opposites. They could have nothing in common, coming as they did from different classes, embracing different mores.

However, of all the glittering attendees at this party, it was these two people who felt a spark ignite between them. From the beginning, they set into teasing each other, laughing outrageously at anything the other said, even finishing each other’s sentences. They thought similarly about nearly everything, she with an ease of manner and simplicity that he found delightful, as if they had known each other for years and not moments, he with his lack of pomp or proper attitude. He was easily self-assured without being arrogant. She was warm and friendly without fawning.