Karen Wasylowski - Darcy and Fitzwilliam: A Tale of a Gentleman and an Officer

“Caroline, I didn’t see you there, excuse me.”

She had brought him a cup of tea. “I believe I prepared this as you like, cream and no sugar.” Her eyes skimmed over his shoulders and chest and boldly wandered down farther before returning lazily to his eyes.

“Thank you, Caroline. That was thoughtful of you. I am sorry I have not had the opportunity of visiting with you.”

“I understand your dilemma quite well, Mr. Darcy. However, I do admit to a fear that you have been attempting to avoid me this whole week. I hope that our friendship has not been strained because of your change in marital status?”

Caroline was generally all smiles and fluttering eyelashes at the sight of any man. Resenting her loss of Darcy, especially to Elizabeth, she exaggerated this affectation with him, thinking it made her more alluring and feminine. It did not.

“Not at all, Caroline. It is just that my time has been quite taken up elsewhere these past days. I am sure you can appreciate that the loss of Mrs. Bennet has been felt deeply by her family.”

“Yes, this is the essence of a family in mourning, I have noticed.” She gave a wicked little laugh as she motioned to Mr. Bennet, sitting alone in a corner with his back to the room and examining an old manuscript, Kitty and Mary arguing over who would take the last seedcake, and the Reverend Mr. Collins quoting Philippians to any poor soul who would listen. “The only thing wanting are jugglers and the elegant Lydia dragging along her dutiful husband, Wickham, picking at his teeth.”

She had a hard, cruel mouth when she spoke, and Darcy wondered how he had ever thought her attractive. It infuriated him that she believed she could insult his wife and her family even as they mourned. “Please excuse me,” he said coldly and turned to leave. Caroline clutched his arm and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You are the most noble and long-suffering of men. I don’t know of another who would take on this ridiculous family with such grace and dignity.”

Darcy gently pried away her fingers. “You are gravely mistaken, Caroline. I am neither noble nor long-suffering. I merely love my wife with all my heart. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to speak with Mr. Bennet.”

Caroline watched angrily as he approached his father-in-law, who stood to shake his hand and embrace him in thanks for all that Darcy had done. It was obvious he was gifting Darcy with some bookish treasure they both admired.

Caroline was furious. She was still only a tradesman’s daughter, regardless how wealthy her father had become or how many peers she had bedded. The idea that the poor little country innocent, Eliza Bennet, was now among the elite of the land was galling in the extreme. Caroline decided it was time for her to either finally win him or trade in on their nasty little secret.

In was not until late September that Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mr. Horace Bennet, Miss Georgiana Darcy, and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam descended upon Rosings Park for a short two-week visit with Lady Catherine and her daughter, Anne. Aunt Catherine was overjoyed to have her two darling nephews back in her home and was determined to make this visit unforgettable, removing forever the strain that had tested them over a year before.

Nothing of the prior rancor would intrude on this visit, and she made certain that all were afforded the best of servants and rooms. As they began arriving in the late afternoon, Catherine greeted each personally and suggested they retire to their suites to rest and refresh themselves. Dinner would be served at eight that evening.

Lizzy was amazed at the difference in her reception by Lady Catherine, let alone the attention being lavished upon them all. Her father had his own suite of rooms across from theirs, both breathtaking in their splendor. The view from the balcony was beyond beautiful, the very best in the manor, overlooking the park and the lake beyond. Flowers, candies, and fruit had been placed everywhere, and a bath would be drawn, for both husband and wife in their respective dressing rooms, whenever they desired.

“This is unbelievable.” With awestruck reverence, she wandered through room after room then out onto the massive stone balcony. The view of the park really was overwhelming.

“You needn’t whisper, Elizabeth. Rosings Park is not holy ground, no matter what my aunt thinks.”

“To imagine this is where you were sleeping while I was stuffed into Charlotte Collins’s tiny little cottage, listening to her husband’s ruminations on St. Paul and the place of women in the home.”

“You are very much mistaken, madam.” Darcy walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her fast-expanding waist. “I’ve never stayed in these rooms before. These rooms are usually reserved for visiting royalty. No, my pathetic room was down another hall and much smaller. I think she’s attempting to make amends,” he whispered in her ear.

“Well…I must admit to it working—I feel a bit less animosity with every door I open. Why, look at this sitting room, William. I have never seen so much silk and gold in my life! Look at these murals! And even the ceilings are magnificent!!”

“The real telling point will be the bed. My old bed here is an abomination.” They walked back into the bedroom toward a massive canopied four-poster surrounded with heavy brocade draperies. Beautiful antique tapestries lined the walls of a room crowded with elegantly carved furniture, crystal, and marble anywhere there wasn’t gold. Darcy immediately jumped atop the bed.

“Good heavens! She really must be feeling guilty. This is certainly a great improvement on my old bed. I should have married you long ago, Miss Bennet—my back would have been spared years of agony.”

Elizabeth turned to the huge double doors of their balcony, opening them wide to better enjoy the gardens that were just beginning to explode with autumn beauty and fall flowers. “The fragrance from these gardens is overpowering. It makes me feel quite wanton.”

“Well, in that case, come over here, ducks.”

Elizabeth turned toward the bed but barely saw her husband now lost amidst the curtains, pillows, bolsters, and feather covers. He raised up his hand. “I’m in here. Wait there, and I’ll come over and fling you up top.”

She ran giggling to the side and tried to leap up, but her legs were too short and her stomach grown too big. She bounced backward. Darcy was at her side immediately, and together, they laughingly hoisted themselves onto the mattress and then collapsed into laughter.

“Do you realize that King George himself, as well as many from the royal court of Vienna, princes from Spain, even the Dauphin have all slept in this very bed?” Darcy was struggling to pull them over toward the center.

“They may very well still be here…”

Georgiana was already speaking with Lady Catherine and looked up as her brother and Lizzy entered the room. “Good evening, Brother,” she said as she ran to greet them.

“Ah, there you all are at last. Georgiana, Anne and I have had a wonderful visit while you all were napping. I hope your rooms are to your liking and you are warm enough.”

“Warm enough?” Fitzwilliam scowled. “Are you mad, Catherine? It must be nearly eighty-five degrees up there, at least as hot as Spain in July. It’s late September, you know, not early January.”

“Well, you may be accustomed to sleeping on the ground, exposed to heaven knows what with cloven-hoofed animals and ensigns milling about, Hottentots running naked here and there. But gently bred ladies, especially those who are breeding, need warmth and comfort.”

Fitzwilliam bowed. “And, evidently, parboiling.”

Lady Catherine’s foot began tapping in aggravation. “Richard…”

“Very well, I stand corrected, once again, dear Aunt Catherine. If Elizabeth, Anne, and Georgiana are comfortable, the Hottentots and I can just open a window.”

“Well, no need to drag foreigners through the house.” Nodding majestically to her guests, Catherine turned toward Lizzy’s father. “Mr. Bennet?” She smiled warmly, and her eyes twinkled. My goodness, but he is quite a handsome man. “Would you be so kind as to escort me in to dinner?” Quite handsome.

“I would be most honored, your ladyship.” Catherine placed her hand upon Mr. Bennet’s arm while Fitzwilliam escorted Anne and Darcy escorted his wife and sister into dinner.

All at once, the doors to the dining room were flung open to reveal a magnificently decorated table in the finest-looking room Lizzy had ever seen. There were huge murals painted on the walls and ceiling, and tapestries that rivaled any museum’s. Vases of immense floral bouquets graced the halls and table. Larger-than-life statues in cut stone stood in a huge circle that surrounded the dining area. Massive crystal chandeliers glittered above, being magnified by huge gilt-edged mirrors. It was breathtaking.

“Darcy, you won’t believe who’s still in service here. Old Margaret MacLeod. Can you believe it? I’ve had my eye on that bit of fluff since she was a vixen of seventy-two.” Each heavily ornate chair had its own footman who hurried forward to assist with seating.

Everyone laughed, except for Lady Catherine, whose eyes narrowed at him. “Richard! I really cannot condone this manner of discourse. Old Margaret has been with me practically from my conception, even before, if my memory serves. Please show her some respect.” Lady Catherine took her place at the head of the table, motioning to the others to be seated.