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

“Hello, Richard.” Lizzy’s voice was very faint.

“I saw no one when I entered, not even Darcy. For God’s sake, where is he? He’s been a hovering pain in the ass for eight months!”

“They had a disagreement, and he walked out, left the poor thing alone and unguarded.”

“If I could just say something in his defense.” Lizzy lifted her finger to gain attention.

“The fool is nearing a breakdown. He probably just needed to get out of the house and walk it off. He’ll return.”

“Well, I hope you’re right. Anyway, can you please take Harry somewhere safe? I was so frightened before; it appeared as if Mary was going to walk off with him.”

“I told you to wait for me, did I not? Then you would not have needed to bring that maid with you. You never listen to reason. You’re always in such a rush…”

“Pardon me…hellloooo. Remember me?” Lizzy’s exasperation with them both was unexpectedly cut short. Her face contorting into a dumb show of horror, she clutched at the sheet, her knuckles turning so white it looked as if bare bones were grabbing the covers. Writhing with mind-numbing pain, she abandoned any thought of humiliation that Richard was witnessing her terror, witnessing her body being torn in two. Her eyes clenched tightly shut, and her shoulders came up off the bed with her grinding yowl. The contractions were coming in constant waves, increasing in their intensity as she felt the alien body within her begin to shift. After several excruciating moments, she gasped, the endless internal tightening finally easing, her cries dying off with a muffled sob. After a moment, she took a deep breath of relief, pushing her sweat-soaked hair back from her forehead.

“Elizabeth, how very nice to see you. I am sorry, however, that you seem to be in some discomfort.” Fitzwilliam had no idea what would constitute proper conversation in such a situation.

He chose poorly.

“Discomfort?” Lizzy stared at him in stunned disbelief. “ Discomfort! Why you… Sir, try pulling a ten-pound capon through your left nostril, and then we shall speak of discomfort !”

Fitzwilliam wanted to dissolve into the floor. “Well, forgive me, Elizabeth. I certainly did not mean to offend. Are you well, then?”

Lizzy was panting and furious. “ No! I am in agony, you lackwit ! And let me tell you, someone had better get this thing out of me and be quick about it!” Then Lizzy gave another howl of pain. “ And find my husband—now !”

“Right. I’ll be off then.” Swiftly turning on his heel, Fitzwilliam ran from the room and snatched up little Harry on his way. He continued running across the hall and down the grand staircase. “Harry, let’s make ourselves scarce, shall we?” When he reached the foyer, he came upon some returning servants hesitantly peeking around the corner, turning and looking curiously around at the empty room, frightened by the disembodied screams. Mr. and Mrs. Winters appeared in the doorway, coming up from the servants’ floor below.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam! What are you doing here? Where is the night butler?”

“Winters, get the doctor here at once. Mrs. Darcy has begun her labor.” Mr. Winters immediately signaled a footman as Fitzwilliam turned to speak with Mrs. Winters. “You are needed upstairs without delay, I am afraid. Tell me, do any of you know the whereabouts of Mr. Darcy?”

They all looked at one another sheepishly. Lizzy’s maid, Cara, hurried forward and began relating to Fitzwilliam the horrible fight that had taken place between the Darcys—apparently a brawl with enough slamming doors to send the few remaining staff scurrying downstairs.

“There was a letter from that horrible Miss Bingley, and then they both just went mad.” Cara’s eyes were huge with worry and terror. “I must go up to my mistress!”

Good Lord, he’ll kill himself if he’s run out just when she needs him! “All right, everyone, we must find Mr. Darcy immediately. Winters, please organize runners. Send out every available servant across the city. Search him out first in his usual destinations. I will provide you with alternate locations if that fails. Go! I don’t care whom they inconvenience or embarrass, just find him! Has anyone gone for the doctor yet?”

“Yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I have just sent Chippers out. It should not be long now, sir.”

“Where’s Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s maid?”

Winters stared at him. “Whose maid, sir?”

“Mrs. Fitzwilliam, Winters. Oh, I forgot you don’t know. I have recently married. My wife arrived here this evening with one of the maids from Penwood House. She should be here somewhere.”

“I haven’t seen any maid, sir, but I shall go down directly and ask.” Fitzwilliam nodded and shifted Harry to his other arm.

“Congratulations, if I may say so, Colonel.”

“Thank you, Winters. Now let’s get this place humming!”

“Yes, Colonel!”

Fitzwilliam returned upstairs and stood helplessly outside Lizzy’s door, wanting to help but ridiculously terrified of venturing inside. He was still holding Harry in his arms. “Is Mrs. Darling going to die, Colonel Fitz?” Harry’s face was hidden in Fitzwilliam’s neck, his little fists clutching the colonel whenever he heard Lizzy cry out.

“No, Harry. Mrs. Darcy is not going to die.” The poor little boy should not have to worry about such adult things, but Richard felt it important to be close at hand if Amanda needed him. After all, he reasoned to himself, he had endured the horrors of his own army gone mad at Badajoz, had fought the Frogs in hand-to-hand combat at Salamanca, was a hero of Waterloo—no, he would not retreat.

“You see, Harry,” he began, “childbirth is a mystical and spiritual experience for a woman, son, and though it may be somewhat painful, a woman doesn’t mind the pain. In fact, she welcomes it, greets it with open arms, because she will have a child like you to love when it is over.”

Just then they heard Lizzy viciously scream, “Never again… never again… If he ever attempts to touch me, I shall kill him, I shall cleave his tongue…”

Ignoring this, a rapidly pacing Richard continued, his voice louder to cover her words. “As I was saying, Harry, although women are typically timid and not physically strong as men are, they are by nature gentle and soft spoken, compassionate and selfless. That is why the good Lord gave this responsibility to them. Childbirth is a joy which completes a woman. It is what gives her life meaning and purpose…”

Elizabeth then let out another, louder scream which included a string of obscenities that had not had its equal since his dear friend Major Patrick Harrison had been shot in the fanny during a duel of honor outside of Copenhagen.

“…or maybe not. Time to call retreat, Harry.”

He went downstairs and took a chair in the smaller front parlor, near a window within view of the doorway so that he could look both outside and into the long hallway should someone come. He settled the exhausted Harry onto his lap, cuddling the child’s head and kissing his soft cool hair. He then set about removing the child’s shoes and coat.

“Are you and Mummy really married?” An important lesson learned, Fitzwilliam—little children have big ears. Harry was struggling to keep his eyes open while still managing to clutch his tattered cloth horsey tightly in alternating arms as his coat sleeves were being tugged off.

“Yes, Harry. Your mother and I married, but we had to keep it a secret, even from you.”

“Then you’re my poppa now?” Harry lifted his face up to the colonel and smiled with such a sincere look of love and adoration that it gave Richard’s heart a wrenching tug.