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

When they finally separated and rested their foreheads together, they smiled, warm and silly and in a besotted shock, breathing raggedly.

Then another even more passionate kiss began, leading into another.

And then one more.

***

“Fitzwilliam? Fitz? Where in bloody hell is that old fart?” Darcy muttered. “Richard, you’d better not be taking a piss off the…” He finally saw the couple in the far shadows, recognizing them a second later. The woman had jumped at the sound of his voice and now turned her flushed face away, hiding it in the shoulder of his cousin.

“Pardon, Fitz, oh my, forgive me for intruding.” Stunned, Darcy stepped back, attempting to make a hasty retreat from the terrace.

“What is it, Darcy?” Fitzwilliam managed to say finally.

“Nothing, nothing really…” Darcy tried averting his eyes, but they kept flinging themselves back to the embracing couple. “Well, Fitz, I feel quite ridiculous. Georgiana is getting anxious in the crowd, and Aunt Catherine is concerned, wants us to take her home, but it can wait, good Lord, it can wait. Carry on… I mean, please excuse my intrusion.” He walked back into the ballroom, cursing his own stupidity.

Amanda pulled back from the embrace to stare deeply into Fitzwilliam’s eyes. She was sadly tumbling back down into reality. Even if they could surmount all other obstacles, there was still her son—she would never marry, could never leave her son. He tried to return to that magic, pulling her close in his arms, and she reached up to caress his cheek. “I must go.”

“Don’t leave, please,” he whispered so earnestly. “Stay with me, forever.”

She stared long and hard into his eyes. “You could not understand what you ask,” she whispered back. “This must end here. Forgive me, Colonel, but there really is no future for us.”

“I found the one whom my soul loves.” She mourned within at the words. Was that not the Psalm at last Sunday’s mass? Foolishly, she had believed at the time it an omen of good luck. Her broken heart twisted with the thought. “I am promised to another, Colonel.”

***

His iron jaw clenched, and he took a quick step back, still holding her arms. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yes. I am promised to another. I am afraid that there really is no future for us.”

He stared down at her for a few moments. Something was very wrong here. Nothing made sense. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He chuckled, blithely dismissing her comment with a smile. Hoping to read her thoughts, desiring only to stare again into her eyes, he attempted to lift her resisting chin with his finger. “No. No, I will not believe this. You are teasing me for some reason. Have I offended you, been too forward, is that it? I can assure you, madam, that my intentions are more than honorable. I’m in love with you, Amanda.”

Amanda cleared her throat. “Forgive me. It was the romance of the night.” She looked away, her eyes misting. “I forgot myself just a little.”

What? Fitzwilliam’s head shot back. “Forgot yourself ‘ just a little’?! You quite amaze me with that immense understatement. Explain yourself.”

Amanda began to stammer. “W-w-well, I was s-swayed by the lovely night, by the wine, but I am more lucid now. I couldn’t think before, you see. The fact is that I am involved with someone else, and it would be unfair to him, as well as you, to allow this to go on any further.” Her voice sounded thin and completely unconvincing, even to herself. “If my emotions have been carried away, I can only explain it by saying I am only human after all.”

“Huh!” He threw an amused glance at her, one eyebrow quirking itself to death with its skepticism. “Please do not lie to me, Amanda.” His tone became authoritative, firm. It was as if he was reprimanding a recalcitrant child. “I am not an idiot, my dear. There could be no one else, as we both know. What sort of foolishness do you play here?”

What did he mean—could not be anyone else? Was she that undesirable? Even if she did regret this ridiculous lie, she could not retreat from it now. She yanked her hands free from his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest. “I beg your pardon, Colonel? You cannot honestly be calling me a liar?!” Her tone was icy cold.

“Yes, I can, and a pathetically poor one at that.”

“Well, well. Colonel Fitzwilliam, I am not accustomed to having my words doubted in this way, or in any way, for that matter!” She was suddenly livid. “I can assure you that I am involved with another! Oh yes! He is a respected physician, and I know him very well from chapel on Sundays. In fact, I go often to his hospital to volunteer my services to the poor. Yes, we are very involved! I am involved unto the brink of receiving and accepting his offer!” Ha! That told him. She pulled and tugged at her dress then ruthlessly yanked locks of falling hair and seemed to pin them directly into her skull. He half expected to see rivulets of blood stream down her forehead and neck.