Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation (81 page)

Colonel Fitzwilliam allowed his father to digest that gruesome bit of information before he continued. “Mr and Mrs Mason, the couple who found the body, had informed the authorities that the Viscount had been visited several times by a lieutenant from the militia. Lawrence said that the only one of his men who he knew to be acquainted with Lord Wolfbridge had gone missing. I added that the man’s name was Wickham and that he had been a friend of the Viscount since they were children.” Richard spent some time assuring his father that Wickham was nowhere to be found in Brighton and that he knew nothing more about what would have caused the breach between his brother and the lieutenant.

The Earl had then turned his rage on his nephew. “Why were you in Brighton? If I find that jealousy drove you to once again fight with your cousin—I will get revenge and not care that you are my sister’s son.”

Darcy, who like Lady Wolfbridge had spent much of their journey to Derbyshire putting his emotions under good regulation, answered his Lordship calmly. “Uncle, I was in Kent with Lady Catherine. Because I was close by, Richard asked me to help with preparing and transporting the body while he was devoting his time to aiding the authorities in their investigation.”

The Earl of Elderton retired to his rooms and only appeared again to his family on the day of his eldest son’s funeral.

One day after Edmund was buried, Darcy was once again on the road to London. He was exhausted from the strain of dealing with this calamity but allowed himself to indulge in some hope. Now that his cousin was dead, his greatest wish was that Elizabeth would realize that a major hurdle to their marriage was gone forever and agree to his proposal. He could almost taste the quiet, mundane routine he craved with her at Pemberley.

Several days after the funeral, Colonel Fitzwilliam informed his family that he was returning to Spain. The demands of the Peninsular War could not excuse soldiers for bereavement leave. He had received permission to stay until Lady Wolfbridge gave birth. If the child was male, he would become the heir to Elderton and Richard would leave for war immediately. If the child was female, he would sell out and assume the title of the Viscount Wolfbridge. His father had glared at his second son’s announcement and promptly left for a bruising ride.

Richard Fitzwilliam knocked softly on Eleanor’s door. Once inside, he sat before the fireplace in her room. Today there was no need for a fire, but it had been a favourite spot last November and seemed the appropriate location. “I hope it is a boy.”

“Oh, but Richard you could die. You told me many who lost their lives at Badajos were men you had commanded, and two were fellow officers and dear friends.”

“Yes Ellie, before this war is over whole aristocratic houses could be wiped out—Elderton among them. But, the part of the report I received that gives me nightmares is of all the Spanish civilians who were killed and raped. Here in the safety of England, most are spared from knowing or acknowledging the agonies of this war until one of their sons is lost.” He looked at her, eyes still glistening with unshed tears but also filled with great love. “A title and an encumbered estate is hardly the life I want. The only way I will have even the remotest chance of achieving my heart’s desire is to distinguish myself on the field of battle. Maybe then, we would stand a chance of being forgiven for breaking the Church of England’s law. If I live through this hell, I will marry you.’’

Lydia chose Elizabeth to stand-up with her, and she held her sister’s hand tightly until the time came to give it to Ronald. Lizzy knew something was unusual about this wedding, but no one was forthcoming to reveal what it might be. The looks the couple exchanged convinced her it was a love match, but still that niggling doubt was ever present. Mr Darcy was there, but he seemed very subdued, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His forced smile seemed filled with pain. What had happened in Brighton?

The only time she was able to talk to him was during the breakfast at the Gardiners after the ceremony. They sat next to each other, and she took his hand under the table. There seemed to be emotion in the squeeze he returned, but he remained silent with no words of any kind. This seemed at odds with the sentiments he had expressed in his last letter. It was true, the room was filled with well-wishers, and privacy was non-existent, but they could at least speak of things as though they were common acquaintances. Despite his silence, she knew mindless chatter was not what she craved and she asked very quietly, “Were you called away to Brighton because of the murder of Lord Wolfbridge?”

He seemed a bit startled that she knew, and his tone was evasive. “Yes, Richard needed help arranging for the transportation of Edmund’s body.”

For the duration of the breakfast, Elizabeth was only able to elicit a few responses from him, and nothing substantive about what happened. He seemed exhausted, and the aloof Mr Darcy was in attendance, as he told her of his plans to return to Pemberley. With a face that displayed no emotion, he said, “Richard will return to Spain as soon as Lady Wolfbridge gives birth—that is if the baby is a boy. If she has a girl, he will resign his commission. My family has gone into mourning for Edmund, and the midsummer picnic has been cancelled. We will make an exception and travel to Hertfordshire for the three weddings, but I will not be able to participate in any balls that might be planned.”

As he told her of his plans, Elizabeth became increasingly annoyed. Why did they have to observe mourning for that disgusting man? When he explained about not being able to attend any balls, her natural tendency to throw barbs like her father took control, and she said, “Well, it is lucky you do not plan to astound Hertfordshire, once again, by dancing a waltz with the well know recluse.” She was immediately sorry when finally an emotion registered in his eyes, and it was despair.

She was encouraged when as they parted, he captured her eyes and smiled, and she saw a hint of an indention in his cheeks, as he whispered the now familiar refrain, “Until September, my love.”

The residents of Hertfordshire remarked that they could not remember such a September… a September when the weather was glorious and the grass was still so green and the grain was so yellow. It was perfect for the weddings of three of the county’s most beautiful and distinguished daughters. The populace gave over the entire month to celebration.

The Derbyshire contingent arrived early in the month. She had only a few moments to spend with Jamie, but at least they had had time together in London. Elizabeth wished she was at leisure for long conversations with Mr Davies, Mrs Wilder and Mrs Reynolds as well. She had missed all three, and letters had only scratched the surface of all that she wanted to know of their lives.

She particularly wanted to be able to speak candidly with Mrs Reynolds about accepting Will and becoming Mistress of Pemberley. The fact that she was still too conflicted to agree to his proposal held her back. It would be very indiscreet to reveal his feelings for her and her misgivings to an employee—even if that was not how Elizabeth felt about her.

The murder of the Viscount Wolfbridge had not smoothed the way for her acceptance, as it should. She was left with many questions, and those questions became convenient excuses. After Lydia’s wedding, several letters had arrived from Will over the summer, but they had been newsy, and never rose to the level of the great emotion he had displayed in May. Was he having second thoughts?

Elizabeth had confirmed with Georgiana that his birthday was September 8. Her Uncle Gardiner had been instructed to buy a book. She wanted to give him a first edition of the combined volumes of
Songs of Innocence and of Experience
with Blake’s own illustrations. She knew from Georgiana that he did not own this work. The poetry of both volumes had given her comfort over the years, if for no other reason than it gave her an awareness that she was not alone in her remembered feelings of the joy of innocence and her despair at those things which had come with experience. She hoped he would love the poetry despite its reputation as containing the radical message of free love.

The day of his birthday, they had met at Oakham Mount. She stood on the Mount and waved as she saw him riding across the meadow. Once again, she was dressed in colours reminiscent of autumn, and the memory of seeing each other a year before came flooding back to both.

Once in each other’s company, she was pleased that the reticence of June had lessened. This time she did not want to tempt fate by bringing up her questions about Edmund’s death. It was his birthday, and she wanted it to be a happy time. She regaled him with humorous stories of her mother and Sir Walter preparing for the weddings, and her father, ever present in the background, reminding them of the cost of some of their ideas. Bethany and Lydia would be happy, as the duo had prevailed with the notion of having ices at all three wedding breakfasts. However, her father had put his foot down when it came to having white doves released as the couples left the chapel. He won Sir Walter over when he mentioned the possibility of clothes being ruined by a wayward dropping from one of the doves.

Will told Elizabeth of the birth of Eric Fitzwilliam, the new Viscount Wolfbridge. “He was born several weeks earlier than expected, but was still quite bonny, and did not look particularly tiny at all.” He looked a bit nervous as he added, “Lord Elderton is annoyed that Lady Wolfbridge refused to name the baby Edmund. My aunt defended her decision. She reminded my uncle of the gossip circulating about Edmund’s death and said it is time to refurbish the Fitzwilliam name. A name that no Fitzwilliam ancestor has ever carried seemed fitting to her.” Darcy gave the woman he loved an enigmatic smile as he said, “Lady Wolfbridge calls the baby Ricky. I am to be his godfather, and Georgiana, his godmother. Richard was unable to accept the role, as he is off to Spain to join Wellington, and who knows when and if…” his voice trailed off as the reality of what he was saying hit him.

Once he had shaken off his momentary discomfort, he changed the subject to speak of the new governess he had hired for Bethany and Lewis. The two chatted companionably until suddenly, Will seized her hand and without any preparation begged her to marry him. His reason for his precipitous action was that with Edmund’s death, there was no longer any need to fear his family. “My uncle, despite being annoyed with his grandson’s name, is putting all his hopes for the future in him. He has come round to agree with Aunt Cassandra that the ancient name of Fitzwilliam must, once again, shine with honour in society—and that means quashing any threat of scandal. Elizabeth, he has also agreed to play a role in containing the machinations of Lady Catherine.” Darcy tried to determine how Lizzy was reacting to his proposal. Her face seemed to have settled into alarm. He thought of another argument for his case. “Besides, she has no power. I am the actual owner of Rosings, and I could threaten her with eviction if she tried to make trouble for us.”