Previous Section, Section II
Part 2C
Wherein nobleman and tradesman share a repast
"You are cheerful this evening," Lady Maria smiled as her son entered her drawing room and sat by her side. "Certainly it is not the anticipation of a pleasant evening. I know these affairs of society often bore you."
"They only bore me when the guests are a bore, mother. I am anticipating a very pleasant evening."
"This evening is in many ways, Richard, quite filled with unknowns, so I would not anticipate anything."
"Whatever do you mean mother?"
"We do not know how Mrs. Darcy will perform as a hostess at such a large gathering. I cannot imagine that she has much experience."
"Are you concerned?"
She paused for a moment before answering. "Perhaps not."
"That reply appears to indicate some change of opinion on the subject of Darcy's wife."
"Are you aware that Mrs. Darcy has called on me various mornings since their return from Pemberley?"
"Has she? And upon further acquaintance what is your opinion?"
"She is certainly unlike the ladies of my common acquaintance. Mrs. Greystock, who was visiting when she last called, quite agreed. Perhaps that is why Darcy wished to marry her. He has always had a vein of singularity under that reserve he so carefully wears."
"In what manner do you find her unlike your usual acquaintance?"
"She has a forthrightness that is somehow uncommon."
"Is that so very terrible?"
"Not at all. Yet it is not her forthrightness itself that I find uncommon, rather the manner of it. It is mixed with a sort of sweetness that seems peculiar to her. I confess that I begin to understand what you told me before they were wed, that I must learn to see this all differently. Perhaps I was wrong to be so concerned."
"You are not yet convinced?"
"After this evening I may very well be, Richard. You must understand, while I may have appeared unfeeling in this situation, my concern has been what is best for Darcy and when he first became engaged I could not in good faith believe this marriage to be in his best interest."
The Colonel took his mother's hands within his own and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. "I never thought you unfeeling, mother, I only disagreed regarding the importance of her connections."
"You pay too little mind to these matters. This is an important evening for the Darcys."
"This is not the first time since they have been wed that they entertain."
"But it is the first time they entertain on this scale. Hitherto they have entertained only intimates."
"I can comprehend why then this is an important evening for Mrs. Darcy, who remains unknown to many, but why for Darcy? He is a known quantity."
"He remained an unmarried man for nearly six years after coming into his inheritance and had no sister of appropriate age to act as his hostess. Therefore he has entertained only as befits an unmarried man-small parties of family and friends. This evening is as much his debut as it is hers. As a married man he takes on a distinctly new role. His reputation, his place within society will be impacted, therefore, by the success or failure of the evening. Should the evening be a success I imagine that his marriage will be deemed acceptable and she will be firmly established simply as Mrs. Darcy, the mistress of Pemberley and the daughter of a modest country gentleman, and he will take the place long reserved for him as one of the leading figures of society. However, should she fail, the whispers of doubt which have accompanied his marriage will become louder and more direct questions then have thus far been raised will be raised regarding his choice. Even with his fortune, his reputation will not withstand a failure and he would be reduced in stature and hereafter considered no better then the plethora of undistinguished gentlemen that plague London society."
"You make it sound quite forbidding."
"Richard, we live in an unforgiving society."
"Do you not exaggerate the importance?"
"Perhaps. Will her tradesman uncle be in attendance?"
"I would assume so. I hardly imagine that she would not invite them. I am given to understand that she esteems him quite highly, as does Darcy."
"Curious," she muttered. "Well, it is time we make our way to Grosvenor Square. If all goes well this evening, I promise Richard that I will admit my error, but do not expect the same from the Earl."
"Very well, mother. But in time he will come round as well. It is inevitable. He admires people who are forthright, intelligent and loyal too much for it to be otherwise."
"We shall see. Now let us make haste."
As the Fitzwilliam party walked into the Darcy townhouse the Colonel whispered a stunned "Oh my!" causing both Lady Maria and the Earl to turn their attention to what held his: Mrs. Darcy.
Never had Elizabeth looked as well as she did this evening. Her face was verily radiating joy and her eyes, always the most disarming feature of her pleasing countenance, were remarkably brilliant. Her hair was elegantly coiffed so as to accentuate the graceful lines of her face and neck. She wore a silk gown of a dark, aubergine color, with a delicately embroidered geometric pattern of a slightly lighter shade; the unusual color of the gown heightened the attractive, faint flush of her complexion. The neckline was deep and adorned with a slight lace tucker of exquisite workmanship. Wearing no necklace and thus leaving her beautifully creamy skin unspoiled by ornamentation, she wore only a small diamond brooch in the shape of a flower pinned in the vicinity of her heart. Everything about her attire was proper and elegant, and yet the cumulative affect was so very alluring, so very distracting as to be quite provocative.
The Colonel took in her appearance with unguarded admiration and could not help but reflect that few women could appear to such advantage with so little adornment. But perhaps it was that very lack of adornment, the rejection of fashionable turbans and feathers, which made her style of dress appear so personal and appealing. While her gowns were certainly made of the finest fabrics her new station allowed and, indeed, required, and while she now frequented the best dressmakers in London, her appearance overall seemed so effortless as to be wonderfully pleasing.
"Richard!" He turned and saw his mother looking upon him with concern.
"Yes, mother?"
"Pray, be cognizant that your attentions will not go unnoticed."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your attention, Richard, has been quite fixed upon Mrs. Darcy since we entered. I will say no more for the moment, but I would hope that I will not, at some future date, need feel concern with this growing admiration."
"Oh mother, please!" the Colonel replied disbelievingly. "She does look remarkably well this evening, but my admiration goes no further then that of any gentleman's upon seeing a handsome woman."
"I will take you at your word. Now, let us greet Mr. and Mrs. Darcy appropriately. We have been standing about in a stupid manner and it must appear quite awkward to anyone with the mind to observe."
The greetings were soon made, and as they turned to make their way into the drawing room, Darcy pulled the Colonel toward him and whispered into his ear. "That suspicion, Fitz, is no longer just a suspicion. So you shall congratulate me properly."
The Colonel smiled broadly and looked from Darcy to Elizabeth. "So then, Darcy, it is not just the mere joy of a dinner party that has you and your wife looking so well this evening, eh?" With a firm handshake he left his cousin to other arriving guests.
The Earl having passed on ahead of them, the Colonel escorted his mother into the drawing room where others were already milling about. Lady Maria examined the room with the practiced eye of an experienced and respected hostess. Upon considering one notably impressive floral arrangement, she nearly gasped. "Wherever did she acquire those?"
"What would that be mother?"
"Peonies. In March. I am not aware of any hot house that produces peonies in March."
The Colonel shrugged his shoulders. "Is that so important?" He asked as he escorted her around the room.
"Perhaps not to the gentlemen in attendance, but to the ladies it is noteworthy. It shows a desire to indulge and please her guests that is gratifying."
"They are merely flowers, mother."
"Nothing is merely anything when a lady hosts her first large evening at home."
"Has she made a good start of it at least?"
"Yes, I am pleased to say. She herself, as you so obviously noted, looks remarkably well. The arrangements appear to be quite elegant without being ostentatious. Therein, my dear boy, is the importance of the peonies. The flowers go a long way toward setting the tone. A more fragrant and lovely flower is difficult to find, and yet it is not an extravagant flower, it is graceful and unpretentious. Yet to have procured them now, in March, makes them unusual and it shows that she strives to ensure that her guests are well served."
"I must be lacking in all perception, mother. For I was quite convinced that all that mattered was the quality of the port."
"Richard, you persist in tormenting me. I am sure I educated you better then this. Now escort me to the opposite side of the room. I see Mrs. Bromley and I wish to greet her."
The Colonel deposited his mother in the company of Mrs. Bromley, a highly regarded hostess whose good opinion could do much in the more rarified circles of London society. Indeed, as he looked about the room the Colonel realized that this evening indeed was much more then an easy party of friends and acquaintances. While he saw and conversed with a number of Darcy's Cambridge intimates, he noted in attendance more then one from the established bevy of society's adjudicators. It struck him as peculiar that Darcy should go to such lengths, as he knew that Darcy abhorred many of these people, and certainly found the entire presumptuousness of said adjudication distasteful. Yet, for the first time since Darcy's engagement had been announced the Colonel apprehended that his parents' concern had not been born merely of displeasure with Darcy's display of determined independence. Society would judge and that judgment would impact not only Darcy's future standing and that of his wife, but the future standing of their children as well, and more immediately, Georgiana's. The Colonel, a man of the world, felt suddenly peculiarly naïve, as silly and soft in the belly as one of these newly fashionable romantics. And he recognized as well that although Darcy and Elizabeth had stood against expectations when they wed, they nevertheless acknowledged the peculiar consign society held upon a person's fate and they were, this evening, confidently confronting those who would be arbiters.
As the Colonel thus ruminated dinner was announced. He watched as Darcy offered his wife his arm and they proceeded to lead the guests to dinner. He was momentarily flooded with admiration. Not for either individually, but for the two together. It was not because they made a handsome pair, although they certainly did, but that they seemed possessed of an enviable, almost tangible bond. He wondered if it was his own fancy or if others could sense it as well, could see that powerful silent communion that inhabited every look and every gesture they shared.
"What is that expression for?" Georgiana inquired as she approached her cousin and claimed his escort into dinner.
The Colonel smiled. "I have discovered of late, dear girl, that I am a sentimental fellow after all."
"I could have told you that long ago." Georgiana's large blue eyes smiled upon him and the Colonel felt anew that these Darcys truly were where all his tenderness dwelled.
At dinner the Colonel found himself accompanied by Lady Maria and Miss Greystock, the daughter of his mother's intimate friend. Although an ordinary looking girl, she was a good sort of girl and he always found her conversation pleasant. Across from him sat Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, whose acquaintance he had made at Darcy's wedding. He noted that the Earl sat to Elizabeth's right, and to her left sat one of the other highly ranked guests, the Earl of Egremont*, whose great estate of Petworth was home to a distinguished collection of art.
As the guests took their places and the army of servants began to serve the first course, the Earl of Egremont, a courteous man, respected and admired by all who knew him, bellowed to his host down the length of the table with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, ensuring that the guests who lined either side of the table would be silent to allow ease of conversation between the host and one of his more distinguished guests.
"Mr. Darcy," he began, "I did not know that you were an admirer of Mr. Turner." He indicated a large painting on the opposite wall, depicting a winter morning in the country. "That is a remarkable piece you have. You shall forgive me if I am so delighted as I look upon it that I disregard all conversation."
"I am only newly drawn to Mr. Turner's work, your Lordship. Indeed it was Mrs. Darcy who found this painting appealing when we lately visited the Royal Academy. She was so entranced with this particular work that I could not very well leave it behind."
Egremont turned to Elizabeth enthusiastically. "Are you then, Mrs. Darcy, a connoisseur of painting? Although he has achieved some success, sadly many do not find the appeal in Mr. Turner's work, finding fault with his luminosity and color."
"I can claim no great understanding, your Lordship," Elizabeth replied with sincerity. "I merely found the work captivating. In truth, it is the very luminosity which appeals to me. People often mistake the winter landscape as one bereft of beauty, yet he has shown the fiction of that assessment and captured instead the particularly unique form and texture of winter's light. You see, sir, I am very fond of walking in the country and this painting simply reminds me of that pleasure. I have often seen just such a morning as he depicts, in which the dawning light promises one all the pleasures of nature if we will but look. It is perhaps an unsophisticated cause for admiring a work, but such it is, your Lordship."
"Then it is your innate discernment that I must commend. I had not seen this particular painting before. I am a great admirer of his works and find this one particularly moving."
"Then your Lordship should feel at liberty to come and enjoy its beauty at your pleasure," she replied with a smile.
"I believe I shall do just that Mrs. Darcy. I thank you for the generous invitation." He looked at her for a moment in silence, with a sincere and appreciative smile.
The Colonel leaned close to his mother and whispered, "At least one luminary has been charmed, mother."
From thence the conversation flowed with ease. Painting led to the fashion of romanticism in poetry, which led to the theatre, which moved Elizabeth, Mr. Gardiner and Sir Patrick MacLaighid, an amiable Irishman Darcy had befriended at Cambridge, to lead a prolonged and especially witty discourse on the human condition and an argument as to whether Shakespeare or Molière deserved more credit for the faithful depiction of its folly.
The hostess, of course, always sets the tone for an evening and as this evening progressed the Colonel, not alone among this large party of society's influential, was well neigh inebriated by the tone. Such warmth and lively amiability, coupled with unassuming wit and intelligence was not always to be had around a table in London society. Not a word was said on the current fashion as regards the length of sleeves on a lady's gown, neither did the men find time to wander into the art of hunting pheasant. Conversation flowed easily between and among the small groups of dinner companions and the larger assembled party, and throughout a meal in all ways pleasurable was served with the unobtrusive efficiency of the skilled staff.
But it was not just Elizabeth that charmed the Colonel. Across from him sat the Gardiners. Although the Colonel had made their acquaintance at the wedding in Hertfordshire, he had not spent a great deal of time in their company, finding himself, as he had, subjugated by the attentions of one Miss Caroline Bingley. The addition this evening of Elizabeth's aunt and uncle, and most particularly her quick and gregarious uncle, was most contributory to the excellence of the evening. Indeed the Colonel was so taken with his dinner companions and the general conversation that he did not take the time, as he so frequently had of late, to observe his father in interaction with Mrs. Darcy. If he had he might have been amused by the disobedient convivial smile that tugged at his father's lips with some regularity.
Indeed the Colonel spared not a thought for the Earl until after dinner as the ladies made their way to the drawing room and the gentlemen to the smoking room.
"What a delightful evening. Are you enjoying yourself father?"
"I confess I am, such splendid discourse is not always to be had. Although I am concerned about that fellow there," he replied curtly, with a nod of the head.
"What fellow?"
"That one speaking now so familiarly with Darcy."
"Mr. Gardiner?"
"Yes. I do not understand how Darcy can be so easy and open with him."
The Colonel anticipated many things from his father, but not this sort of intractable scorn, as though Darcy would dare snub his wife's uncle in his own home, particularly such an agreeable gentleman as he was, tradesman or not. "Father, he is a charming gentleman. I do not believe I have ever had such a thoughtful and yet witty discussion regarding that nasty little man we are so righteously aiming to defeat as I had with Mr. Gardiner over dinner."
"I grant you he speaks quite well, but charm can deceive. When a gentleman comes into Darcy's home and treats his wife with such effrontery I would expect that Darcy would not be encouraging."
"Whatever are you speaking of?" Inquired the Colonel in confusion.
"Did you not see how he has interacted with Mrs. Darcy the entire evening, the excessive familiarity of his address."
"Father!" the Colonel cried in disbelief. "You greatly misunderstand the matter."
Stopping his son in mid-sentence and ignoring all attempts at interruption, the Earl continued in a hurried whisper. "I have done no such thing. This is the consequence of poor connections. Yes, I grant you that one and all find Mrs. Darcy charming. Indeed how could one not. She is handsome, witty and in all manners agreeable, but do they respect her? Do they treat her as an equal? It is a disgrace that Darcy should come to this, to allow such familiarity toward his wife and in his own home. Wherever did he even find this gentleman?"
The colonel was astonished by his father's outburst, but had not an opportunity to correct his peculiar misconstruction as Darcy and Mr. Gardiner were immediately in their company. Darcy had begun offering the room a selection of cigars. As the Colonel turned to his father in an attempt to make known to him Mr. Gardiner's connection to Elizabeth they were interrupted by the general approval that arose regarding the unusual excellence of said cigars and a desire by all to know where some such more might be procured.
"You must inquire of Mr. Gardiner," Darcy replied. "That is, if he will reveal his source. He recently gave them to me as a gift and has stubbornly refused since to tell me how or where he procured them."
"The stock is limited my good man," Mr. Gardiner smiled. "Should I reveal my source you shall all go searching it out and I will not have you running out the supply. Mr. Darcy, you know perfectly well where to find me whenever you desire more," he added with brotherly ease.
"I would urge you to be more forthcoming, Mr. Gardiner," the Earl interjected as he savored the smooth, mellow flavor of the finely wrapped cigar. "Such a fine stock is not easily found."
"It is not so difficult. Simply a matter of knowing the right people," Mr. Gardiner responded with a wink and a playful glimmer in his eyes that reminded the Colonel very much of Elizabeth.
"You mean finding the correct tradesmen?" the Earl inquired innocently, oddly ignorant as he still was to Mr. Gardiner's identity.
Mr. Gardiner merely smiled. "How would we survive without tradesmen?"
The gentlemen laughed in response and dispersed again into smaller circles for conversation. Darcy continued with his two uncles and his cousin. "While Mr. Gardiner will not appease us regarding the cigars, sir," Darcy said. "Perhaps he would be more generous with my aunt. Lady Maria was evidently curious as to the source of the flowers this evening. It was Mr. Gardiner who led Mrs. Darcy to the supply. Indeed, with his connections he promises to provide Mrs. Darcy and I quite enviable access to many scarce items."
"Such lengths I have gone to for my niece, Darcy. Peonies in March! Although I am always pleased to oblige her, I must acknowledge she has not generally been so fanciful in her requests."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Gardiner, your niece?" the Earl stammered inelegantly. The Colonel watched his father's face pale in recognition of his severe error in judgment.
"Sir, did I not inform you that Mr. Gardiner is Mrs. Darcy's uncle when I made the introduction?" Darcy inquired.
"It would appear not."
"What an unforgivable omission. My apologies, Mr. Gardiner."
Mr. Gardiner shrugged his shoulders. "It is of no consequence, you had many invitations with which to occupy yourself this evening. And it would appear, you now have other matters requiring your attention," he said gesturing across the room.
As Darcy walked away to attend to his other guests, the Earl muttered angrily to the Colonel: "That would explain the familiarity I witnessed and you said nothing to correct my gross misapprehension."
"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Gardiner asked in confusion.
"You appear to be very attached to your niece," the Colonel interjected.
"Lizzy is a great favorite in my home."
"I noticed no resemblance." The Earl remarked.
"I am her mother's younger brother, and we Gardiners are as fair in coloring as the Bennets are not. Lizzy is in every way her father's daughter."
"You are her mother's brother?" The Earl understood at last that this was the infamous tradesman uncle and he could not disguise his amazement at the revelation.
"That is correct."
"If I may observe, Mr. Gardiner, you appear to have a rather remarkable degree of intimacy with my nephew. I confess to some surprise. He is not easily intimate and since they have been married they have spent little time in London, and here in London I understand you reside."
"He and I have had the opportunity to understand each other quite well from quite early in our acquaintance. I must say, I have never had the pleasure of acquaintance with a finer man."
"He does have a great estate," the Earl replied, mistaking Mr. Gardiner's meaning.
"I have had the pleasure of visiting Pemberley and indeed it is a great estate, but I referred to his character, your Lordship, not his situation. He is a man of steadfast loyalty and deep affections, honorable, honest, intelligent and generous."
"Oh, yes of course," the Earl remarked.
"I suppose," continued Mr. Gardiner, "I have given him what my wife would call a most flaming character."
"Indeed!" chuckled the Colonel.
"In truth," Mr. Gardiner continued with his customary openness, "Lizzy is very dear to my wife and I and so it is a great pleasure to see her married to a man of such excellence of character."
"The excellence of situation is, I am sure, equally pleasing to your niece," the Earl retorted callously.
Mr. Gardiner stiffened with indignation and replied curtly, "While I have had the honor of sufficient intimacy to understand your nephew's character, evidently your Lordship has not had a similar opportunity to come to understand my niece's or you should never have made such an insinuation."
"And when I understand her better, what shall I find?"
"A young lady of great integrity, a woman unimpressed by excellence of rank, situation or connections where it is not matched by excellence of character; you will find a young lady guided by her honesty, her principles and her affections."
The Colonel could not fathom his father's intentions as he heard him reply sarcastically, "I imagine a woman who appeared such could make herself quite enticing to a man of my nephew's character."
"Sir, we are both men of the world, let us not mire ourselves in innuendo. I am well aware of your position regarding the marriage between your nephew and my niece. As you were unable to prevent it, perhaps it would behoove you to recognize that, for whatever the difference of their family situation, in character, in principals and affections they are remarkably well suited."
"And I should forsake at last my reservations as they are wasted at the end?"
"Were we not discussing Shakespeare at dinner? Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediment."
The Earl stared at Mr. Gardiner for a moment, holding the gaze of Mr. Gardiner's clear, intelligent and resolute gray eyes. "Might I be so bold as to observe, Mr. Gardiner, that both you and your niece are two most surprising individuals. You both defy category. You are both quite outside of definition."
"Not at all, sir, we are merely two people who strive to live with honesty and integrity. If that is unusual then it is merely an unfortunate commentary on the quality of our society." Mr. Gardiner paused and then, in a desire to return levity to the exchange, added, "If your Lordship is truly interested in singular characters then you must wait to make the acquaintance of Lizzy's father. Now there is a singular gentleman."
"Indeed!" Replied the Earl with sincerity. "Then I shall await the opportunity with anticipation."
With an elegant bow Mr. Gardiner excused himself and made his way to the port, where he was soon in jovial conversation with two of Darcy's Cambridge intimates.
"So that is the infamous tradesman," the Earl remarked almost indifferently to his son.
"So it would seem."
"A surprising gentleman to be sure."
Soon thereafter the gentlemen joined the ladies and a request for music was quickly made. While Elizabeth encouraged Miss Greystock to perform, the Colonel joined his mother.
"You seem pleased."
"I am Richard. She has been in every way an excellent and charming hostess this evening. I am quite impressed with her ease. I did not anticipate it. And Mrs. Gardiner is a very refined lady as well. Mrs. Darcy has indeed made a success of it."
"Do you then admit your error, mother?"
Lady Maria only smiled. After a few pieces were agreeably performed the soft and even voice of Lady Maria filled the room.
"Mrs. Darcy, we have been honored by such fine performances this evening. Will not you grace us with your own as well. You sang so delightfully when you last dined at our home. Perhaps Miss Darcy would be willing to accompany you again."
Lady Maria's tone was so soft and familiar that those in the room who had heard rumors of a chilling of relations between the two houses as a result of Darcy's marriage could now not but dismiss them. Having now, as she so much as admitted to her son, seen her error, Lady Maria was prepared to use all her not unsubstantial skill and understanding to promote Mrs. Darcy, and thereby the futures of both Darcy himself and Georgiana. Her change and her intention did not escape Darcy's notice and as his wife and sister, the latter reluctantly, made their way to the instrument, he approached her and took her hands into his own. "Am I correct, my dear aunt, that you have come to see things my way?"
"Oh, hush my dear," she replied with a smile. "You and Richard are quite determined that I shall not enjoy any of this evening's performances."
Darcy smiled and moved to a position where, the Colonel suspected, he might have a better view of the two objects of his affection.
Although others who had performed that evening were better trained, Elizabeth, who indeed looked quite beautiful this evening, sang again with such a sweetness of tone and such an artless joy that the room was captivated.
Love, thou art best of Human Joys,
Our chiefest Happiness below,
All other Pleasures are but Toys;
Musick, without thee, is but Noise,
And Beauty but an empty Show.**
"I now admit my error," Lady Maria whispered to the Colonel as the room filled with appreciative applause.
It was some time later that the Colonel wandered down the empty hallway and considered whether to simply depart or whether to ascertain if Darcy was still up and about. He inquired of a footman still at his post and learned the master and mistress had not yet retired and could be found in the music room. Approaching quietly he came to the door of the music room and leaned against the door unnoticed.
They sat together, very closely, very neatly, upon a sofa that faced away from the door, and Elizabeth's head was resting against Darcy's arm. A soft, banter played back in forth between them.
"I recall that someone once said to me, long before I thought so well of you as I do now, that you could be very charming when you wished. Indeed, I believe I have never seen you as charming as you have been this evening."
"Never?" he asked provocatively. She giggled as he lifted her arm and diligently set to kissing the inside of her wrist and the underside of her round, velvety forearm.
"Well, perhaps I should amend my statement and say never while in company."
"My darling Lizzy, as long as you find me charming I am quite indifferent as to what the rest of the world's opinion may be."
As Darcy lifted her head from his arm and softly kissed her mouth, the Colonel loudly cleared his throat. "But Darcy you are ever so charming!"
He felt a pang of remorse when he saw Elizabeth's deep blush, but lost it as soon as Darcy spoke.
"Fitzwilliam!" Darcy roared as he stood and turned a look of ire upon his cousin. "What in the devil are you doing lurking about my house in such a fashion? Why are you still here? Our guests departed more then half an hour ago."
"Such a temper Darcy!" the Colonel chuckled. "I decided I absolutely must enjoy another of those remarkable cigars you procured before I departed for the Earl's. Really, such a fuss. Sit down," he replied succinctly as he entered the room.
"May I congratulate you, Mrs. Darcy," he said with a formal bow before taking a seat across from her. "This was a most delightful evening."
As Darcy sat down again the Colonel noted with amusement the glower that emanated from his eyes. All three were silent.
"Fitz," Darcy finally remarked in a steady, even tone.
"Yes, Darcy?"
"Go home."
"Are you tossing me out of your house, Darcy?"
"Yes."
"Into the dangerous London night?"
"Yes."
"I suppose I would not be much of a soldier if I could not get myself home safely."
"No, you would not be. Now leave."
"A soldier can always follow orders." Both made as if to stand and the Colonel motioned for them to be still. "Do not trouble yourselves. I can see myself out."
As he was walking out to the foyer, he turned on his heals and on a whim silently returned to the door of the music room and looked in. Engaged in what appeared to be in all ways an enthusiastic kiss, neither noticed either his return or his retreat. As he ambled back to the Earl's he reflected, as he often had of late, on the delightful situation in which his cousin now found himself and he wondered if it was really so very impossible to find a woman who was in possession of both charm and a fortune.
*Turner's real patron; painting is Frosty Morning
**Purcell
Conclusion
In which we attend an engagement ball
Mr. Edward Fitzwilliam, the future Earl of ____ was far more handsome then his younger brother, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was tall and well-figured as was characteristic of the Fitzwilliams. He was possessed primarily, however, of a certain hardness of mien which ensured that his less handsome but more amiable brother was forever considered the more attractive of the two. This evening as the Colonel walked into the drawing room and found his brother in full sartorial splendor for the evenings Engagement Ball he thought Edward had never looked so cold.
"I suppose after this evening you will be verily promised, Edward." He remarked casually as he dropped himself into a chair inelegantly.
"Sometimes, Richard, you really are a stupid fool." Edward spit out the words with disdain. "You are fully aware that this engagement was published in the papers a full fortnight ago."
"Ah yes, and has been universally acclaimed since as a most excellent match. But tell me, are you quite reconciled?" The Colonel inquired in a sympathetic tone.
"What nonsense is this? Reconciled to what?" Edward replied frostily.
"I would think that is quite patently obvious. To life as Lady Patience Faircloth's husband."
"She shall be my wife, I shall not be her husband. When I am Earl I shall have a rank superior to hers, as you are well aware."
"Now who speaks nonsense, for surly you shall be as much her husband as she shall be your wife, and I believe your rank will become her rank. But if you prefer to see it in those stark terms, may I remind you that she has a fortune superior to what yours shall be."
"What is your proposition, or are you just wishing to disturb my peace?"
"I cannot disturb what you do not have, brother."
"Further nonsense."
"Come, if you can not confide in your brother, Edward, then in whom?"
"You do not confide in me. You have Darcy. Why should I spare the trouble when your loyalty has always been given first and foremost to Darcy, when it rightly should reside with your own brother."
"That is unfair Edward. You well know that I have attempted to give you council on matters of great import and you have always chosen to ignore it. Behold now the results. Tonight we celebrate your engagement to a woman you neither love nor esteem."
"What has love or esteem to do with it. I respect her."
"For her rank and her fortune."
"For whatever reason, I respect her. And when she is my wife I shall respect her for being my wife."
"And you really have no regrets Edward, that you forsook Miss Vye?"
"What would you have had me do? Her profligate brother gambled away the family fortune in the most disgraceful manner. Was I, a future Earl, to align myself to a family so debased?"
"What of Miss Vye? You do not repine her?"
"What does it matter?"
"You loved her."
"Love is a mere flight of fancy; a poet's delight and a gentleman's torment."
"You know that is not so. You have Darcy there for the truth of it."
"Darcy! You spend far too much time with Darcy." Edward turned indignantly on his heels and began to exit the room, and then stopped and spoke to his brother in a tone rich with disappointment and resentment. "We are not all masters of our destiny as he is, so do not come to me with Darcy's romantic notions. You would be best to put them behind yourself. You cannot marry a penniless girl. Your habits are quite as expensive as mine. And pray do not torment me mercilessly with memories of Miss Vye. Tonight I shall be publicly promised to Lady Patience Faircloth and I wish to never again hear the name nor even a suggestion of Miss Vye pass your lips."
As Colonel Fitzwilliam watched his brother disappear into the festooned hallway Darcy's words came unexpectedly back to him. She need not be your dearest friend, but for your brother's sake be open and receptive. Perhaps Darcy had been correct. Edward was a miserable, pathetic enough fellow as it was, it would hardly be brotherly to remind him of his misfortune when he would soon have daily proof in the form of Lady Patience Faircloth's regular company. With a cynical beware the ides of March muttered under his breath he joined his family in anticipation of the throng of invited guests.
The engagement of Lady Patience Faircloth, daughter of Lord Randolph Faircloth and the long deceased Lady Hyacinth Faircloth, of Goodstone Park, to Mr. Edward Fitzwilliam, future Earl of ____, was considered by London's high society as one of the most well constructed matches in many a season. It was to the advantage of all. One offered more prestigious rank, while the other offered greater fortune, neither came with hands empty, and both were most advantageously connected. It was an alliance in all manner to be admired. It had been accomplished through the diligence of the two elder noblemen pursuant to the claim of duty to heritage with the full acquiescence of the betrothed who, in point of fact, were not much more then passing, indifferent acquaintances.
The first word a person was want to select to describe Lady Patience Faircloth was inevitably the same: long. She was surprisingly tall and with a figure so thin and lanky as to accentuate her already generous height. Everything about her was long and thin: her figure, her face, her neck, her hands. She dressed with great attention to the latest fashion plates, but with a discernment which ensured she never looked ridiculous nor awkward. She had a particular fondness for turbans. She was not pretty, neither was she wholly unappealing. Indeed, had she been a woman of character, this character, in conjunction with the always flattering blush of youth, could have made her, if not handsome or beautiful, certainly notably attractive in an intriguing manner. Unfortunately for her, hers was a figure and a countenance that was in need of character, nay that demanded character to display to its greatest advantage. Lady Patience Faircloth had no such great character, instead in her countenance was more often then not to be found an expression of distraction accentuated by a perpetually slacked lower lip. And in her large and lovely toned dark blue eyes there was but a certain blank, emotionless quality. Lady Patience Faircloth neither wished ill on any person nor wished particularly well; she was neither malicious, nor petty, nor generous, nor broad minded. She was simply a relentlessly bored lady of four and twenty who had been obliged to exert herself only as far as the basic requirements of her station, and so never developed the habits of a just mind or a solid character. There was, in short, nothing to fault her for, and just as surely nothing of particular note to praise her for.
And this insipid creature, Colonel Fitzwilliam mused, was to be his brother's wife and he recalled with sadness for his brother the pretty and sweet Miss Vye who would have been the wife of Edward's heart had he had but the courage. As the Lady arrived he watched as his brother proffered a perfectly executed bow to his intended before leading her into the ball. Propriety had called for the Colonel to greet Lady Faircloth and her father with the rest of the family and he had barely been able to withstand the displeasure, all the while wondering again when he had become such a silly, sentimental fellow. Disgusted, he turned away to find himself being approached by Darcy and Elizabeth. The contrast was too stark to avoid and as he watched his cousin Darcy approach with his wife on his arm he admired him afresh for having had the courage to take love where he had found it, regardless of what less then desirable connections had come with it.
"Lizzy," the Colonel bowed, "You look lovely this evening."
And she did look lovely, in that peculiarly effortless manner that the Colonel found so agreeable. Indeed, he had suspected when they first wed that she might have become overwhelmed by Darcy's significant wealth, reduced by the weight of it, rendered capricious by the excess of possibilities and thereby lose some of her charm, but he had underestimated the steadiness of her character. Here she was now, the wife of a very wealthy man, and all her attire and presentation now subtly suggested that wealth-the fabrics of her gowns, the jewels, the highly trained maids to set her hair to perfection-and yet she had not lost a bit of that artless grace that she had had as an unmarried country girl living in a home of reduced means, she had not lost a bit of her freshness, she had, incontrovertibly, retained that unpracticed elegance, that natural playfulness that a gentleman could not but find enchanting. She was not subjugated by his wealth as a weaker mind may have been; she simply remained Elizabeth, Lizzy.
"Mrs. Darcy?" he inquired formally after compliments had been exchanged. "May I have the honor of the first two dances?"
"I am afraid Fitz," Darcy laughed, "your gallantry is wasted. They are taken. Indeed I am almost certain her dance card is entirely full. Is that not so, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth smiled becomingly at her husband. "So it would seem."
"Oh come Darcy, you cannot dance with her the entire evening."
"I certainly may. It is one of the many advantages of being married. I need never disguise my preference."
"But you have always despised dancing, surly you will allow me the pleasure of dancing with your wife if for no other cause then to release yourself of the burden!" The Colonel laughed affably.
"Fitz, you shall learn yourself at the most unexpected moment that with the right partner there are no such burdens." Elizabeth blushed as she rolled her eyes.
"Well, you shall at least dance once with Lady Patience Faircloth out of respect for your cousin, will you not? And, if I may most ungraciously add, to save him the necessity of too many dances with her as well. It will hardly do for her to be sitting out a dance at her own Engagement Ball and I cannot imagine any gentleman desiring to dance with her now her dowry is claimed."
"You are very cruel this evening," Elizabeth scolded.
"Perhaps, but Darcy must do his cousinly duty. After all Edward has a lifetime of insipid conversation before him, we might save him from his own disastrous future for half an hour. At that time, I claim your hand Lizzy."
They continued on in congenial discourse with Elizabeth and the Colonel providing the majority of the repartee while Darcy looked on with easy pleasure. The Colonel was in the midst of an amusing anecdote about some new foolishness of his General when he saw the look of ease suddenly disappear from Darcy's face, only to be replaced by a hard stare of utter antipathy. He stiffened entirely and as Elizabeth followed his eyes, her own open and easy countenance developed an infrequently exhibited reserve. The Colonel turned to see what had occasioned such a change and saw looking toward them with equal hostility their aunt, Lady Catherine.
As Darcy made to turn and walk away in the contrary direction, Elizabeth halted him with a subtle grasp of his arm. "William!" the Colonel heard her whisper in a voice so controlled and taut that he barely recognized it as hers. "Her presence is no surprise and we had settled that this is no place to cosset your indignation. What lies between is our own personal concern and I will not have you parading it for the sport of Lady Maria's guests. Lady Maria does not deserve such a discomfiting display of incivility among members of her own family. Please, William, let us acknowledge Lady Catherine. This is no moment for resentment."
Throughout Elizabeth's reasoning Darcy remained perfectly still, his eyes not leaving the cold, challenging stare of his aunt. He made no audible reply to his wife, he merely placed his hand atop hers, which rested on his arm, and escorted her across the room to Lady Catherine. The Colonel watched, incredulous, as they exchanged perfect civilities.
Rushing to the Earl's side, he whispered into his ear with almost boyish anxiety. "Father! Did you not observe?" The Colonel directed the Earl's attention to the exchange occurring not a few feet away.
"Well," The Earl intoned with something akin to impatience. "At any rate, Lady Catherine has the sense not to heave their discord into the open. Although I confess to some surprise that Darcy would put his resentment aside even for the evening. Lady Maria will appreciate their effort to maintain propriety I am sure."
"You are incorrect, father, in your assumptions. My aunt and my cousin simply stared at each other with barely disguised animosity when they discovered one another's attendance. It was Mrs. Darcy that insisted upon the civilities."
"Is that so?" The Earl remarked, watching Elizabeth with a new respect until he was distracted by the attentions of one of his guests.
If the Earl was pleasantly surprised by Mrs. Darcy's tact and forbearance, Lady Catherine was perhaps not so very much pleased by the general ease with which she moved about the room, nor with the frequency with which she was recognized, acknowledged and, distressingly, admired. She could not but reflect on that ill-conceived interview at Longbourn in which Miss Elizabeth Bennet had dared to contradict her and had confidently calculated that society would be too wise to share in any scorn should she, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, marry Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Lady Catherine did not at all enjoy, it can be surmised, to be thus proven so mistaken in her understanding and so she remained only as long as propriety demanded, claiming a need to return to the side of her poor, dear, sick girl.
Before the Colonel could enjoy his promised dance with Elizabeth, he himself was required to pay his respects to his future sister and so soon found himself partnered with Lady Patience Faircloth for the better part of half an hour, and never had a set seemed so tediously long and dull. She executed each move with perfectly unfeeling flawlessness; she replied to his inquiries with no originality, no enthusiasm and no effort whatsoever to charm. As he contemplated her daily presence at the Earl's table he searched for an explanation as to why his father should have pushed this mindless, insipid creature upon the family and was quite baffled. He was equally so as to how anyone who sincerely esteemed Edward could consider this an excellent match. Sometimes, the Colonel thought, society quite confounds me.
Freed at last from the monosyllabic Lady Patience Faircloth, he claimed his dance with Elizabeth as Darcy himself was left to partner with his future cousin. As they were but a few steps into the first dance the Colonel noted Elizabeth barely able to contain her laughter.
"What has you so amused, Lizzy? While I understand my cousin dances quite well I hope I am not so very lacking in skill?"
"Oh pray forgive me Fitz," Lizzy smiled warmly, her eyes alight with merriment. "I was contemplating the sight of my poor anguished husband."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Why, just look at him." The Colonel turned his head and watched his cousin dancing with his future sister. Darcy's face was immobile from the tedium, which gave to his mien the impression of a fierce haughtiness. "I have not seen him wear that expression in ever so long and I find it rather amusing now."
"Now?"
"When I first knew him he quite frightened the entire neighborhood with that very same expression."
"I should think you know better now how to interpret his often deceptive appearance," the Colonel responded with a smile.
"Oh, I most certainly do." And as she looked toward her husband, painfully and properly dancing with his future cousin, the steps of the dance turned Darcy toward her. Catching her eye he shrugged his shoulders almost indiscernibly, to which she responded with a smile so open and spirited and unmistakably loving as to leave the Colonel quite envious of his cousin's good fortune.
Soon he had to relinquish his charming company and took his place in the next set with the prettyish and young Miss Wallace who, regrettably, had nothing of much consequence to say. Bored and restless, the Colonel made his way to the refreshment table, where he found his father in conversation with Lord Whitemont of Sussex.
"Ah, Colonel," Lord Whitemont said as the Colonel joined the group, "I was just telling your father here that I finally made the acquaintance of your new cousin, Mrs. Darcy. What a charming, witty young lady. Handsome as well. Wherever did he find such a treasure?"
"She hails from Hertfordshire where her father has a small estate."
"From wherever she hails she is a veritable treasure. Quite a lively, handsome young lady."
As Lord Whitemont walked away, the Earl remarked to his son. "I am growing quite weary of hearing that phrase. I have heard it far too many times this evening."
"Father, you should be pleased. Mrs. Darcy is establishing a reputation as a most charming young lady. A welcome addition to the staid society of Town."
"I suppose it is a truth universally acknowledged that when breeding horses new blood is often required to ensure continued health and strength. Perhaps I should look upon it in that regard," he replied cynically.
"I hope Darcy never hears you speak in such a manner father, because regardless of your being his mother's brother he will call you out. And rightly so."
"Perhaps I am too harsh."
"Perhaps you simply feel goaded to such outrageous commentary."
The Earl raised his eyebrow inquisitively. "Goaded, dear boy?"
"She is admired wherever she goes for her liveliness and her wit. While your dear Lady Patience Faircloth, who will soon be your daughter, is a universally acclaimed bore. And for all your devotion to rank, dear father, there is nothing you so abhor as a stupid bore and this one shall be at your table for years to come and at your own doing. If it was necessary for you to find Edward a wife, I still do not comprehend that you could not find him a more agreeable one."
"Your brother has a reputation for his significant expenditures, Richard."
"Irregardless, all along I have insisted that with his rank a more pleasant, less insipid girl could have been found. Of course now it is just disobliging conjecture on my part, but truly father, I confess I anticipated better from you."
The Earl scowled with aggravation. "It will hardly do for there to be young ladies not dancing for lack of a partner while my son is standing about irritating his father. Go make yourself useful and find a partner."
"As you wish, sir."
The Colonel bowed dramatically and began to stroll about the room with no intention of dancing again. He had had enough of it. He understood for the first time Darcy's long held abhorrence for such occasions. He had always found amusement in inconsequential flirtations and harmless gossip, but this evening it all felt inadequate; just a continuous display of empty civility in which no one spoke with honesty and interest dominated human need. Perhaps on this occasion he felt so because the evening was a celebration of his brother's engagement, which he could not but look upon as monstrous. He turned his attention to Edward and watched him dancing with his soon to be wife. They danced with such perfectly cold propriety and yet all society was proclaiming it a most excellent match, an illustrious match, one of the great matches of the season, a perfect meeting of titles and fortunes, each a precision improvement to the other's situation. Yet the Colonel would dissent; the coldness, the indifference that emanated from the betrothed couple as they danced was depressing; they might have been strangers so unmoved were they. Not at all like his cousin, who on the same floor was dancing with his own beloved wife with such delicate exchange of glances and with such harmony of movement as to be quite mesmerizing to any onlooker.
At that moment the Colonel resolved he would rather remain an unmarried military man then not. He had now observed too much of Darcy and Elizabeth to relinquish all hopes of affection for the sake of comfort. He would not live a life empty of all warmth. The old goat could berate him for his soft underbelly unremittingly, but it would not provoke a reaction. He was decided.
Lost in such thoughts, the Colonel felt a hand lightly touch his arm and heard a luxuriant woman's voice. "What are you gazing at with such rapture, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"
The Colonel turned to the speaker and was quite astonished at the identity of his inquisitor. Standing in front of him was a woman of nine and twenty, no longer in the first blush of youth, but the fairer for it. Hers were not, had never been, the soft features for a young coquet, but those more becoming to a confident and established woman. With her dark blond hair, her calm gray eyes and plump figure she had a simple, ripe comeliness.
"Mrs. Stanton! I had no notion you would be in attendance this evening."
"I am allowed out at last, you see. My prison term is ended and I am free."
"Still shamelessly irreverent!" The Colonel replied with a relaxed smile.
"But of course. Life can be so tedious otherwise. At least with you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I need not play the meek little woman. We were always very dear friends when I was only Miss Manning and we never then cared for society's tiresome proprieties."
"Indeed we were and indeed we did not. But if I recall, when you were still Miss Manning you found me a very inconvenient fellow, being just a second son and all."
"I believe we were mutually inconvenient at the time. Fortunately, such a bothersome detail proved of no great import to either of us and our innocent flirtation left us with our youthful hearts intact. Shall we not, then, begin again?"
"I should like that, Mrs. Stanton."
"Then let us commence and do tell me what did have you so rapt?"
The Colonel smiled. "I was watching my cousin Darcy and his wife."
"Oh yes, that has been the great surprise of the last twelvemonth I dare say. I did keep up with the gossips while closed away and nothing was so salaciously discussed as the news that the tenaciously unmarried Darcy had been claimed at last, and by some unknown quantity of a girl. But I confess that was nothing to my astonishment at seeing him this evening."
"How so?"
"I never imagined that he of all our circle, so reserved and proper as I remember him, would be the one to marry for love. For there are always one or two who will marry for love."
"And why do you assume he married for love?"
"Do be serious, Colonel Fitzwilliam. What else could it be when a gentleman of his stature marries an unknown quantity of a girl? The confirmation, in any case, is there," she replied with a gesture toward the dance floor. "You have been watching them dance together, as have many others, I might add. In our circle, after all, love is such a peculiar spectacle to behold. It takes no great wisdom to understand that marriage."
"How so?"
"Is it not obvious? Why they are, much as they are attempting to be discrete, so clearly enraptured. A veritable pair of turtledoves. Quite out of fashion of them, I am sure, but they shall be the better for it."
"Do you speak from experience?"
"You know full well that I do, Colonel Fitzwilliam. But now that I am a childless widow not at all lacking in fortune I hope to choose my next husband for equally unfashionable motives."
The Colonel took a silent moment to look closely upon his old friend. He had not seen her in a number of years. Her husband, who had been many years her senior, had taken ill early on in their marriage and she had therefore not come frequently to Town, rather they had remained installed in his remote Scottish estate. Yet she looked marvelous, more attractive and desirable then she had as a young girl.
"You say you are lacking in children but not in fortune. You neglected to mention, my dear Mrs. Stanton, that you are neither lacking in beauty."
"I see your efforts at charm are still such obvious ploys," she laughed warmly.
"Pleasure me with the next two dances and I will leave it to you to determine the extent of my charm."
"Very well then. Perhaps I was wrong all those years ago to claim that you were a most inconvenient sort of fellow."
"Perhaps you were."
Concluding as we began, with two rapidly dispatched letters
Pemberley
September 29 18__Fitz, You have too little faith in my assurances. This afternoon my beautiful Elizabeth gave birth to an equally beautiful boy. I have a son and he is a big, healthy, darling boy. Elizabeth is well, only very tired and I marvel once more that I should ever have become so blessed as to have won her for my own. Although Elizabeth is already calling our treasured boy Will, I suspect he shall be named Richard Fitzwilliam Darcy if you will but agree to stand as his godfather. Georgiana has of course been a darling and sweet companion to Elizabeth throughout her confinement and they have grown to love each other as much as two sisters could wish, but we have many others with us to celebrate and share in our joy. Elizabeth's sister Jane arrived with Bingley a fortnight ago to be with her sister throughout the birth, followed closely by Mr. Bennet who decided the only means of preventing Mrs. Bennet and her nerves from descending upon Pemberley and distressing my dear wife when most she needed calm was to come himself and leave her without a carriage-he is the most singular gentleman of my acquaintance, but grows increasingly charming, in truth. His arrival was followed by the equally unexpected arrival of your parents-the old goat claimed some nonsense about the distance from Scotland to ___shire, as though they had not made the journey annually these many years now, but I suspect he was merely eager to greet the first born in the new generation of our family. Your father and Elizabeth's father together are a pair to behold, indeed, and the two together with Bingley attempted to keep me as calm as could be during Elizabeth's final days of confinement by encouraging me to imbibe too much brandy to be aware of her condition-they all, naturally, imbibed far more then I and in the end left me to my own torment pacing outside of Elizabeth's door. But all has passed and now I have a boy, an heir, and my dearest wife is strong and healthy and shall again be partaking of her astonishingly long walks about the grounds of Pemberley before long. Fitz, I am so delirious with joy that I am not sure of anything I have written-this must be as disjointed and arbitrary as one of Bingley's letters-all I am sure of is that I am a man blessed in every way and I do not know what to do with so much happiness.
Mrs. Reynolds has just informed me that Elizabeth is awake. I am most desirous to be with her and my son. My son! Say you will be his godfather.
As always, Pemberley awaits you.
Yours, etc.
Darcy___shire Encampment
October 1 18__Darcy, You do understand that your wife was merely humoring you. All your remaining children will be daughters, mark my words! But of course your firstborn would be a son! Well deserved are all your blessings and all your happiness, my friend. Only you yourself and your Elizabeth can be happier at this good news then am I myself. Truly, I am delighted and send my most hearty congratulations. If you will have for godfather to your son a man that can offer no more then his loyalty and his affections I would be honored to be that man. I will not trouble you with long congratulations or questions as to the strange little menagerie of guests who have descended upon Pemberley at this most joyful time, as I am quite sure you have no attention to be spared. Only know this, Darcy, that I am heartily delighted for you and Elizabeth. Do give Lizzy my warmest regards and give that boy a toss from his godfather.
Pray request of Georgiana that she send me all the particulars you are too distracted to provide.
I do have one request to make of you in this happy time, and that is to pay particular mind to my next dispatch, for I may be soon troubling you for congratulations myself. I am to London for the General Tuesday week and intend to call upon the charming Mrs. Stanton-I see no reason to make such complicated work of it as you did.
I shall be at Pemberley as soon as may be.
Yours, etc.
Fitz