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

“I was not aware that you were allowing O’Malley his marital rights. Conjugal visits are so very egalitarian. Decent of you, old man.”

Fitzwilliam threw a chunk of cheese at his cousin’s head. “Do you know what is so pathetic about all of this, brat?”

“You mean aside from your breath?”

Richard loosened his collar and then the top of his pants, a heartfelt sigh of relief escaping him as he slouched down into his chair. “As you well know, I have never truly wanted to be married. Anyway, I made the claim often enough.”

“And loud enough,” Darcy volunteered. Fitzwilliam glowered.

“Well, pardon me, but marriage is necessary only as a means to pass on inheritance. And yet, here I sit, a pathetic love-starved fool, watching the clock for hours on end, counting the days until I see her. Damn me if I can understand how things changed so drastically and so quickly.” He reached into his pocket to bring out his beloved pipe. “‘Thy glory, O Israel, is slain upon thy high places! How are the mighty fallen.’”

“And now you’re quoting the Bible. Dear Lord, we must be near the end of times.” Darcy saluted him with his glass of whiskey. “So, how are we enjoying married life?”

Fitzwilliam snorted, grumbling something about Amanda hiding his tobacco pouch. He finally located it in his coat pocket, in the exact spot he had secreted it, and then began to fill the pipe. He used a candle flame to stoke the tobacco, then spread his hands over the immaculate white tablecloth, all the while giving impressive and grave consideration to Darcy’s question. His fingers worked out some imperceptible creases in the material. He crossed his legs.

“How are we enjoying married life?” he mused, puffing once, then twice, and then removing his pipe to intently study the bowl. “Well, first and foremost, please allow me to say that I have never quarreled so much in my entire life.”

Darcy began to laugh.

“Ah, you laugh. What is truly terrifying is that I include in that statement all of my years of battle against the Corsican.” Fitzwilliam puffed. “Well, to continue, may I reasonably assume that yours is the laughter of the well experienced?”

“Oh, yes. It is an unspoken truth that marriage can be a rather intense alliance at first, shall we say, and not always of the romantic bent.”

“Intense!” Fitzwilliam began to quickly warm to his subject. “Intense! Darcy, my good man, they are not like us. Not even remotely. Now, I speak not of the obvious—the absence of both logic and reason. No, I refer to certain areas that really should be made plainer to men before they embark upon this life-changing commitment.” He puffed on his pipe, suddenly throwing back his head in a bark of laughter.

“First off, I would like to know why they are so bloody sensitive about everything, especially their weight. ‘Do I look plumper?’ is an almost impossible question to answer. They also, apparently, never forget offenses, even if they do forgive them. The most difficult thing to me is the necessity to trot out innermost feelings and discuss them to death.” He shook his head, smiling delightedly at some memory then quickly feigned a scowl. “Well, obviously, since a true man has no innermost feelings, I agree with whatever she says.”

Darcy shook his head as he settled himself lower in his chair, his long legs stretched out before him. “Elizabeth herself is of the female persuasion. It is her firm belief that over the course of a marriage, women invariably control everything—what we wear, how we raise our children, and ultimately how we behave—and we must willingly go along or die alone. The Benevolent Dictator is how I believe Uncle Bernard referred to Aunt Lucille.”

“You’re right, I had forgotten that.” They both chuckled at the memory.

Richard’s eyes wrinkled happily as he puffed on his pipe. “But by God, Darcy, I love every moment. I’ve never felt more alive in my life. We argue, make love and then have a good meal, laugh and talk. Then we make love again.” The light in his eyes could have brightened a small village. “In such a short time, she has become my closest friend, my lover, and my whole life.” He puffed thoughtfully on his pipe for a moment. “Sometimes I find I cannot breathe for wanting her.

“And her son, Darcy… I have actually come to love that child as if he were my own. He is so happy, so full of boyish mischief and fun, and so very good-natured. I look at him and wish to God I could again be twenty-five when he is, instead of a doddering old fart in his fifties. He would be a most excellent companion, most excellent.” Richard sighed and looked wistfully into the fire. “I miss her so dreadfully sometimes.”

“It is overwhelming to love someone more than yourself, isn’t it?”

“I believe I would die for her, Darcy, I truly would.”

Darcy nodded with complete understanding. “May I be permitted just two questions?”

His cousin nodded.

“Am I wrong to assume that your acquaintance with the lady is of a rather short duration? How long did you know her before your marriage?”