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

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?”

Fitzwilliam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Long enough.”

“It could not have been more than a few weeks, Fitz.”

“As I said, Darcy, long enough. See here, I am accustomed to making crucial decisions quickly, could never have lived through the war if I had not.” His eyes glowed with purpose. “And I knew she was mine the moment I met her. Why prolong the inevitable? We both felt strongly about each other almost immediately.”

Darcy had no argument for his friend, the deed already done and over at any rate.

“My second question is why are you living like this? Why the secrecy?”

Fitzwilliam put down his pipe to rub the exhaustion from his eyes before he answered. He briefly related Amanda’s situation to his cousin and then poured himself another drink.

Darcy whistled softly. “What will you do?”

Fitzwilliam waited a long time to answer. “If we cannot find a solution soon, and by soon, I actually mean immediately, we shall have to seize the boy and leave, secure a coach for Portsmouth or Dover, go to the Continent, and hide out there for a time.”

“Richard, you do realize that you would not be able to come back. You’d be hounded by the authorities. You would both be fugitives.”

Fitzwilliam had waited as long as he could for the worst news. “Yes, I know. In truth, I am thinking it will be best if we relocate to America. She still has her family home in Boston and some relations there to help us begin anew. As you know, I have no real means of surviving here without my father’s aid, and I could not ask him to support something like this.” Fitzwilliam inhaled deeply and raked his hand through his hair again. “We don’t even have the luxury now of examining our options. She believes she’s with child.”

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up, and he smiled warmly at his cousin. “By God, Richard, I know it’s making it more difficult, but how glad I am for you.”

Fitzwilliam could not contain his own smile. “Truth be told, I’m rather pleased myself. I had never hoped to have children of my own.”

“America,” Darcy said quietly.

Fitzwilliam nodded.

“America!” Darcy repeated, the realization beginning to sink in.

“Will you quit repeating that like we’re going to the moon?” Fitzwilliam ground out in irritation.

“Bah! It’ll never happen.” Darcy tried to rally his drooping spirits. “I cannot possibly credit that Aunt Catherine would allow it!”

They sat in quiet for a long while. “Would you be leaving soon?” The thought of his cousin’s leaving weighed heavily upon Darcy, knowing it unlikely he would be able to return to England once they fled.

“I’d like to wait until the end of January, of course, until Elizabeth has the baby, but that may not be possible.”

“Well, how can I help you, Fitz?” Darcy asked.

“If needed, may we stay at your home, Darcy, for one night only? We would be leaving within the next week perhaps. I hate to drag you into this, but I want her to know she has a safe refuge to which she can escape should something go amiss.”

Darcy fought off his growing sadness and laughed. “Come on, you great idiot, you know we never need beg favors of each other. Meanwhile, let’s get you home. Lizzy is driving me mad with her worry.”

When they arrived at the Darcy’s house, Elizabeth was at the door to greet them, nearly in tears with her relief. Her hand firmly pressed onto her aching back, she waddled around the two men, staring up at their severe faces, greatly annoyed at not being acknowledged more demonstratively. She kept switching her weight from one foot to the next as they settled farther into the hallway and handed their coats and gloves to the footmen.

Unable to restrain herself a moment longer, she began her outburst. “Richard Fitzwilliam, where have you been? We thought something ghastly had happened to you. You gave us such a fright! Did he not, William? Yes, a terrible fright! Everyone has been out looking for you, did you realize that? Was it something to do with that woman to whom you were attracted? Did you have an argument or something? That is so common, really. You must not take it to heart. Look at William and myself. Remember how horrid he was to me in the beginning? That horrid, demeaning, contemptible proposal he made me at first? But we overcame that, you see. I have forgiven him completely—the insult to my family, the humiliation, the cold disdain for my feelings. We never think of it anymore.” Darcy and Fitzwilliam’s eyes met briefly over her head, and both valiantly refused to grin. Darcy leaned down and kissed the top of his wife’s head.