A/N: I gave this two reads, but chances are being human as I am, there are mistakes. Feel free to point them out! Thanks to amazing betas and the literary giant we have in Jane Austen.

The Invisible Duel

Darcy scanned the correspondence from his steward, Mr. Reynolds, had sent concerning spring planting. He shook himself to concentrate on the news from Pemberley. Since taking charge after his father's death, Darcy had made it his challenge to find crops that would grow in the difficult terrain of Derbyshire. His father had been content with grazing, mining, and various investments. He, however, wanted to reduce spending and also have the benefit of feeding his animals from his own land. While most of the property had been divided for those purposes for centuries, since becoming master, he wanted to find other alternatives to reduce the monies leaving Pemberly's coffers.

Granted, the soil was not the best, but the conditions did not hinder his zealous attempts. The valleys and land near bodies of water had proven to a certain degree successful for planting barley and rye. He also had invested in new farm equipment and had been leased to his tenants. In return, he offered to compensate them for their efforts, regardless of the success. His only stipulation was that they adhere to the instructions offered by his steward who would be responsible for detailing the accounts during his absence. This spring, turnips would be planted and used for the animals, and the excess would be sold to neighbouring estates.

While Mr. Reynolds oversaw the planting, Darcy dealt with matters whilst in town. He hoped to not only have a successful season but also expand his other business interests during his stay. He had always been economical but considering the present times and the war, and his recent marriage, prudence beckoned that he had to prepare for future eventualities. His investments abroad had brought consistent returns, along with his other properties. Nevertheless, he was now married and would soon have a family of his own.

He was interrupted when he heard the door to his study open to reveal his cousin. He glanced at him before returning to his letter.

"Is that all the attention I am to receive?" The colonel mocked with an indignant tone when he was not acknowledged.

Darcy raised his head to respond, "you know Fitzwilliam, if you had any manners, you should have waited to be announced properly instead of intruding so unceremoniously."

The colonel rolled his eyes as he settled in the seat before the writing desk. "Darcy, I did not come to hear your lectures. I came to visit with my cousins and enjoy the delicacies of your excellent cook."

"We dined together last night." Darcy set the letter down and leaned against his seat, "As for the food, is the table at Matlock House not to your satisfaction that you have to raid my kitchen for nourishment?"

"Clearly." He gestured with an exaggerated hand. "Why else would I be here?"

"Pray, enlighten me, you are aware I cannot read your thoughts."

Fitzwilliam crossed his legs as he reclined his back on the chair. "I was not interested in mother's conversation this morning. And she does not approve of brandy at such an early hour."

"Neither do I."

"Well, you're not my mother," he smirked; and to prove his point, went to the decanter and filled his glass with liquour.

Darcy was too crossed for riddles. "Is there a purpose for this visit?"

The colonel dropped his body on the chair. "Of course! You know there is always a purpose for everything I do. Where are Elizabeth and Georgiana? You have yet to tell me where they are."

"If you cared to know, Morris could have answered all your questions regarding their location had you taken it upon yourself to ask."

"Darcy, you are in need of a new butler. The old man is about to collapse on that door—and such fine wood would suffer from his abuse."

"I have half a mind to ask him to escort you out for that comment."

"He is the one who let me in to begin with."

Darcy sighed, sinking a few inches in his seat. "What is it you want? Frankly, I am not in the mood for your teasing this morning."

"I was in want of agreeable company," he shrugged his shoulders, "and since you are failing to provide it, perhaps your clever wife and dearest Georgiana are better equipped to offer such a service. Where are they?"

The colonel's insouciance did not fool him. Fitzwilliam had other reasons for his visit regardless of his disinclination to share. "They are at the park." He glanced at the mantle clock. "They should return within half an hour."

Fitzwilliam took another drink. "And you did not wish to accompany them?"

Darcy shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I received a letter from Pemberley," he motioned to the document he had been pursuing before being disturbed.

"Hang it, Darcy, they escaped so as to not suffer your boorish mood, admit it!"

Darcy narrowed his eyes slightly and crossed his arms. "I am tempted to have Morris throw you out now."

The colonel tapped his hand on the armrest. "Ah, Darcy, are you still brooding over last night's events? Mother was quite pleased with how everything came out."

Darcy sighed, his concerns about the previous night finally surfacing. "I would not consider it a success, as Aunt Margaret so aptly put it."

"What now?" The colonel threw his arms in the air. "What did not meet the approval of the high and mighty King Darcy?"

Darcy threw slits his cousin's way, but Fitzwilliam could not be perturbed. "Most of it. The conversation last night proved to be anything but appealing." Vexed as he was with the outcome of the previous evening, he could not care less about offending the colonel's sensibilities.

Even now he was irked by Turwell's meddlesome ways. What else did he know and would willingly share in order to line his pockets? Turwell's father was another matter altogether. Last night had been trying, so much so that Darcy regretted his indifference when his aunt asked his opinion on the other guests. He should have paid more attention and expressed his fears for Elizabeth's sake, as she was still unfamiliar with the peculiarities that governed such gatherings.

"What is done is done. If you wish to show your wife that not all your friends are as arrogant and domineering as you are, the Raleighs would be good company."

"They have yet to arrive from their country home. In his last correspondence, Raleigh mentioned their youngest child is recovering from a lingering cold."

"That would be a good start. Have any of your neighbours from Derbyshire called?"

"Elizabeth has become fond of the Percys." Darcy recalled their visit the past week and Elizabeth's first impression of the elderly couple soon after their marriage. "And a few friends here in town. Most of the callers are merely indifferent acquaintances." He knew people from so and so—he went to Cambridge with this gentleman or met another at his fencing club or a social event. He could not distinguish between the memories, it was a muddled painting of indiscernible faces.

He ran his hands through his hair, groaning at his own ineptitude. Restless, he stood up from his sedentary position, in need of a method to expel his frustration.

"And what of your other cousins— the Haverths? They are sensible people."

"They will arrive in a week's time. They are to pass through Bath before coming to Town," he impatiently answered as he marched from one end of the room to another behind his desk.

From the many callers he and Elizabeth had received, Darcy could only tolerate a handful, a mere few of which he would willingly welcome into his home. He had no need of acquaintances before—he was content with his circle, up until now it had been sufficient. He had always prided himself in keeping a few friends and shunning the rest of society for he abhorred their pretensions. Now as a married man, he had come to realize his former actions were not to his advantage, and if anyone was to suffer from his lack of social graces, it would be his wife.

Consternation filled him as his mind ran to and fro. His dear Elizabeth would be judged by the same exacting and dismissive manner he had often employed to others and because of her former situation, society's standards would be just as rigid, in not more, simply because of her association to him. Darcy was daunted at the prospect of needing a wider circle of acquaintance and taking a greater role in social activities but not knowing how -nor where-to begin.

"How can it be?" he murmured in bewilderment, more to himself than to his uninvited guest.

The colonel sat quietly watching, half-amused at Darcy's perplexed expression. "A penny for your thoughts, cousin?"

Darcy was pulled out of his stupor, and blurted without a second thought before the question reached his senses. "Society can be so capricious!"

Fitzwilliam snorted at his outburst. "What an extraordinary observation," he said in an exaggerated fashion, "and tell me how exactly you came to such a conclusion?"

"I am being perfectly serious," Darcy huffed, unamused.

"I have never known you to be anything but serious."

"Richard," he called sternly, "save your jests for another time."

"Yes, mother," Fitzwilliam fluttered his response, with no hint of repentance.

Darcy glowered at him from behind his chair as silence hung above them.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Fitzwilliam asked: "Why are you fretting?" His tone concerned as he lost all of his previous playfulness.

Darcy exhaled despondently. "I am coming to terms with how my behavior will affect Elizabeth whilst we are in town."

"Well, being jovial has never been a strength of yours."

Darcy glared at him but the Colonel shrugged unaffectedly.

"It is not an untruth." He shifted slightly in his seat. "It is about time you learn how to be accommodating to others. You have become quite pampered."

"'Tis is not so easy." Darcy chuckled ruefully. "Not all of us have your talent for flirting!"

"Not all of us have property nor the independence-and resources- to do as we please. All of us have a measure of life we cannot control," the colonel responded solemnly.

As the younger son of an earl, Fitzwilliam had lived with all the furnishings of wealth but none was his to claim. He had come to depend on the generosity of others to make his own way through life. After graduating university, his father purchased him a commission in the Regulars, and he had worked his way through the ranks until he became a colonel. Fitzwilliam was not a jealous man, Darcy knew that much. As the second son of an Earl, his choices were few, and he opted for a challenging path to earn his living. And to serve beyond his capacity was the greatest reward. He had seen the horrors of war; once stood at death's door, and learnt to see the fragility of life and to value every breath.

"In your case, you chose to discard the necessities that could have helped Elizabeth adjust, the fault lies at your door, leaving you and her exposed. At the same time, you can remedy the situation—the question is whether you will do so," the colonel stated.

Darcy paced to the window, observing the street as it began to fill with various peoples, bustling about.

"Say, Darcy, have you considered hosting a dinner to introduce Elizabeth to your friends?"

He turned around. "No, I was hoping your mother would oversee the event. Elizabeth's success is dependent of Aunt Matlock's assistance."

Fitzwilliam hummed, "I did not know you and Mother had the same tastes in friends. A dinner with society's matrons picking at their latest conquest—and offered so easily by her husband—how well that sounds!"

Darcy squirmed; his cousin had a knack for twisting the sword once the target had been hit. "Elizabeth would not meet them all at once," he replied sheepishly.

"No, but each vulture would have their pick of fresh meat."

"I am not offering Elizabeth to them when we both know she will need these connections!" He defended passionately.

"After they have torn her spirit? Darcy you are well aware that more than one of mother's acquaintances had their eyes on you as a potential son-in-law. What makes you think they will so easily concede to help your wife?" Fitzwilliam peered at his cousin flabbergasted, "Do you not know your own circle?"

Darcy studied the carpet, he had no response.

"You cannot expect my mother to help you and then be affronted when the results do not turn in your favor. Furthermore, if you have given her leeway to do as she pleases, Elizabeth will tire of her meddling soon enough."

Darcy groaned as he ran his hands over his face. "You make it sound as if I have failed my wife."

"Yes," the soldier replied solemnly, "you have."

Darcy returned to sit, his back slightly bent, feeling defeated by his cousin's harsh reprimands.

They both sat silently with their own thoughts for several minutes while Darcy contemplated Fitzwilliam's words. He glanced at him, ready to share Elizabeth's request of him but thought better of it as his cousin seemed to be far off. Darcy's eyes followed his cousin's gaze to a small terrestrial globe which sat on a shelf along the western wall.

With no wish to receive further rebuke, Darcy asked, "Why did you come, Richard? I know it is not the food nor last evening's events that brought you here."

The colonel drew a rugged breath before replying, "I am considering returning to active service. I have been for quite some times as you are well aware and informed my superiors of my availability."

"When did you do this?"

"After returning from Hertfordshire, after attending your wedding."

Darcy did not respond, his face set but inside, there was relentless despondency that gripped him at the thought of his closest comrade back on the battlefield.

"You do not have to go," he finally stated, his tone low and his voice controlled. "There are other options at your disposal."

"Such as? You would have me sauntering to the countryside delivering posts as if my assignments are of value?" The colonel scoffed.

"You have already fulfilled your duties plenty, surely you find contentment in that assurance." His veneer cracked.

The colonel was resolute. "No, I do not."

Darcy's heart sank further at the response from his cousin, and he turned away while Fitzwilliam continued. He had heard the colonel's arguments which had already been raised and debated countless times.

"There is no honor in shuffling papers at the War Office while there is a war to be won. I have been discontent in my current post for quite some time and I aim to complete what I began."

A mixture of incense and desperation broke through as Darcy pondered his cousin's words. "What is it in you that wishes to encounter death a second time? Was once not enough?"

"Because I have a duty to complete, not only to the Crown, but for myself, if I am ever to close this chapter in my life," he answered simply.

Darcy felt the gravity of Fitzwilliam's disquieting stare from behind the desk. The colonel had always been more of a brother to him, and despite their closeness, Darcy was no soldier. He would never understand the fervor of the battlefield like his cousin nor comprehend the horrors of war. He was very much aware that it was not recognition which Fitzwilliam sought, but a greater cause: the importance of duty that had been instilled in them since youth. To honour the family name, the Crown and the country. And for all these reasons and more, he would gladly cross the enemies lines.

Yet even in all this, Darcy's concerns only heightened as he reasoned-more to himself than to his cousin. "Fitz, there are plenty of men who would willingly take your place."

The colonel shrugged his shoulders at Darcy's unintentional belittlement. "Is that so? Most enlist for money and pillage. There are very few that do it for honour and duty, and even less to help the poor. Had you seen what I have seen, you would never express such an opinion so thoughtlessly."

Darcy furrowed his brows, he had no wish to argue, and clearly his cousin's mind was set. "What does your father have to say?"

"Ha!" He sniggered. "Father has already dispatched his arsenal of letters. He has sworn that my feet will not leave these shores."

His uncle's reaction was not wholly unexpected. The topic of his younger son's career often left one astounded by the earl's verbosity. The matter of Colonel Fitzwilliam's career in His Majesty's army had become the source of familial tension within the last year or so. The earl's proposal along with that of Lady Matlock was for their younger son to retire and settle down. Such pronouncements only fell on deaf ears as the colonel remained unmoved from his path. Darcy could not find fault with this argument.
Three years ago, an alarming letter had been sent in advance of the colonel's unexpected return, containing news regarding his predicament. His regiment had been ambushed, and he was injured during the skirmish.

The wound itself was treated, but the infection that followed put his health at considerable risk. His rising temperature and excessive perspiration served as evidence that he was in a perilous state. For several days, the colonel had battled between life and death. The fever broke and Fitzwilliam's health slightly improved yet he still was in danger should he remain on foreign soil without proper care. The doctor, once he had deemed him safe for travel, scheduled his return to England on the next available vessel.

The man that returned to them was a pale shadow of the soldier who had left to serve in the war. The doctor's examination and subsequent report to the family was his utter shock that the colonel had managed to survive the whole ordeal given the lack of effective medical attention. This summation of his health had left the earl and countess distraught, frightened for their son's full recovery.

The earl took the blame for his son's condition upon himself. He had no wish to relive the uncertainty of losing a child. Never had Darcy seen his uncle so unguarded and morose, his countenance forever etched into his memory. Fitzwilliam's convalescence had been a battle of its own kind with Lady Matlock personally overseeing his care. He regained his health, intent on returning to the Continent, but the topic often left an awkward strain in the family. The earl was decidedly against it and his mother supported his father's decision but she was more concerned with maintaining peace in her home.

"His fears are warranted," Darcy said impartially. With Fitzwilliam's persistence to return to the Continent, his career had become an uneasy subject between father and son. Darcy had no wish to escalate the tension.

"I am quite aware of that, but I will not be a man ruled by fear." The zeal in his eyes revealed his unwavering determination.

Darcy tilted is head, though his reasoning, clouded with selfishness and worry tended to favor the earl and countess' suggestion for their son. However, his cousin had chosen his route and if he was called to stand by Fitzwilliam, then he would. He would render the service that his cousin had bestowed on him many a time, he would support him. Shoulder to shoulder, bound to the ties of family but also as friends, as brothers.

A knock called them from their conversation."Enter," Darcy bid.

The old butler opened the door. "Sir, Mrs. Darcy and Miss Darcy have returned from their walk."

"Ah, excellent!" Fitzwilliam grinned at the stoic servant, an immediate change from the seriousness he wore a moment ago.

Darcy gave a more measured response. "Thank you, Morris. We will join them momentarily." Morris gave a solemn nod and departed.

Darcy filed his neglected letter with other correspondence, mentally reminding himself to review it at later time.

~8888888~

On more than one occasion, Elizabeth was reminded of her prodigious fortune in marrying Mr. Darcy. Her mother often sang a tune of her excellent "catch" throughout their betrothal. Even after her marriage, correspondence from the south carried her mother's effusions of earning such a rich son-in-law by way of her second daughter. From time to time, Elizabeth attempted to explain to her mother that her acceptance of Mr Darcy's proposal was not based on his financial standing. She was certainly not ignorant of the benefits of her new station, but it was the essentials and character of her husband that had led to her current state of bliss. Nonetheless, her mother heard none of her explanations, and was content with her limited understanding. All her fears had been allayed when her two eldest daughters married rich men. Elizabeth's reasoning that she loved Mr. Darcy, the man would be discarded by most, but the presumption of her being mercenary left a sting she refused to acknowledge.

Besides acquiring a new name and wealth, she had a new sister. When Elizabeth first met Miss Darcy last summer, she was a reticent girl of sixteen years and contrasted sharply to her own younger sisters. Georgiana had all the advantages of birth. Educated to fulfill her duties as a gentleman's wife yet she still lacked confidence in herself. Elizabeth's sisters were opposite: boisterous by nature, they took after her mother's ignorant behavior. Of all her younger sisters, Mary had been eager to improve herself.

Lydia's situation, however, was irreconcilable. Their family learned an unforgiving lesson from Lydia's elopement and they had no wish for a similar occurrence. Georgiana was saved from suffering a similar fate when her brother intervened to save her from imminent elopement. As for Mary and Kitty, there was still hope, especially now with Jane and herself so advantageously married.

Elizabeth's thoughts were interrupted. "Lizzy, why did my brother not join us today?"

"A communication arrived early this morning from Pemberley that required his attention."

This morning, she had woken up to find her husband ruminating on the events of the previous evening and had enquired more about her thorough inquisition with the duchess when they had separated the previous evening. His frown had returned, and not wishing to have his mood ruined before the start of the day, had distracted him until they could no longer wallow in bed.

Georgiana furrowed her brows. "Nothing is amiss at home?"

"No; if there was, your brother would have informed us. He preferred to stay, attending to his business. Besides, I would not have allowed him to join us since we have not had an opportunity to go on our daily walks until today."

"Oh, I would not wish you to importune yourself on my account. You have been very busy."

"All the more reason to have a sensible excuse to not be occupied." She smiled at Georgiana. They continued down the path followed by Darcy's most trusted footman, James.

"I think I have tired of town," she mentioned with feigned theatrics.

Elizabeth's days had been planned from morning until evening, meeting with the housekeeper as she became accustomed to her roles whilst in town. Becoming acquainted with her duties had not been difficult, but little had been accomplished so far. The constant stream of callers arriving at Darcy House made her days tedious. She was the exotic figurine for the elite and one after the other, they each rushed to Darcy House to make their own inspection.

"London has a way of making one long for the country," Georgiana agreed.

Elizabeth laughed quietly. "Indeed, 'tis a pity a morning walk through the park is the only taste of home we can enjoy."

"Are you truly disappointed that we are in Town?"

"Not at all, I have always enjoyed my visits to town."

The annoyance she currently felt stemmed from the change of pace and the adjustment had not been seamless as she would have preferred. When she and Mr. Darcy had arrived to town for their honeymoon, he had been adamant that both of them abandon their responsibilities. They followed the same procedure when they went to Pemberley for another fortnight. Afterwards, she gradually learnt her role as mistress with the help of her husband and Mrs. Reynolds. She also began to comprehend more of the Darcy family history. This had given her a better understanding of her husband's pride. There was a spirit of camaraderie that translated into every aspect of their married life during the prolonged Derbyshire winter. A sense of order punctuated by outbursts of desire as expected from a newly married couple. The company of her husband and her new sister had been sufficient—it had been her paradise.

"Brother and I have spent most of the year in Town since Papa passed away," Georgiana admitted quietly. "It was easier for him to conduct his business affairs from here."

"Did you often return to Pemberley?"

"Only in the summer. William went whenever necessary and occasionally after spending Christmas at Matlock."

"You must have looked forward to each visit?"

"Oh, yes!" Her eyes brightened. "Mrs. Davis makes the best punch bowl in all of Derbyshire and she always prepares sweets for us," she boasted.

"Is that so?"

She nodded eagerly, "Every year when we host the Harvest celebration, there is special pastry served. The recipe has been kept a secret, only known by Pemberley's cooks, not even her husband knows it!"

"Does Mrs. Reynolds know?" She had never heard of the housekeeper being unaware of the on-goings of the house.

"She must, nothing occurs at Pemberley without her knowledge."

"When we return to Pemberley, we must ask her to share the recipe."

"Even brother does not know," she said hesitantly.

"Then it must only be a secret shared by the women of the house," Elizabeth mentioned with mischievous curiosity. "We will find out! Perhaps a copy of the ingredients can be found; Mrs. Carter must know! We might even have it served while we are in town."

"We have never done that." Georgiana's memories of summer were tied up with Pemberley and the annual festivals her brother chose to continue in memory of their parents. The Harvest was the last memory of her mother before she became ill and passed on to another life.
They continued to walk, Elizabeth conscious of Georgiana's somber mien.

"I think I would like to know," Georgiana forced confidence into her voice. There was only so much about the household that she knew and this was a discovery she was willing to unearth.

"Excellent, surely it must be in the cooking books I have seen in the kitchen." Elizabeth had come to learn of the recipes and meals that had been served during Lady Anne's lifetime had been meticulously accounted for in two volumes. Mrs. Harris—the town cook had informed her that the late Mrs. Darcy had been quite fond of society and had spent equal time in London as well as the country.

"After all, Cook must know all of your brother's favorite treats. Who knew beneath all that calm Darcy demeanor was a weakness for sweets?" She mentioned to a blushing Georgiana.

"A little sugar is needed now and then," Georgiana defended feebly.

Elizabeth glanced at her doubtfully. "Just a little, you say?"

Miss Darcy glanced at her feet, a small smile peeked from her lips at Elizabeth's harmless teasing. Elizabeth squeezed her hand as they strolled along the path, ever fond of the new sister she had been so fortunate to gain by way of marriage.

In her half-year of living at Pemberley, Elizabeth had discovered the staff was very much devoted to the orphaned heirs of their former master and mistress. They treated her husband and his younger sister with great consideration and every so often, with indulgence. She could not fault the staff for such kindness for she had come to value her new family with the same affection if not greater as she held for those she had left behind at Longbourn. The devotion they now shared surpassed any intimacy she had known at her father's home, and had only grown and she would need its consistency for the following months if she was to endure the trial set before her.

© 2019 by Arendelle C

A/N:I love Col F Giving Darcy a good set-down! Don't you?