Chapter VIII
Author's note: If none of you are reading this anymore I understand. My most sincere apologies go out to anyone who has been waiting. Maybe go back and read this from the beginning? It's not long I swear. My problem with this story is I basically had an idea two years ago that man, Elizabeth and Darcy sure are different people and would have a super dysfunctional relationship! And that's kind of all I had. I do really like this story and I'm going to do my best to keep moving forward with the plot as best as I can. Thank you to those you have continued to review in my very long absence. I have the next chapter half written. Please read and review even though I don't deserve it after my prolonged absence.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was surprised to encounter the lady of the house before he even entered it the next morning.
Lizzy was standing with the head groundskeeper, involved in a serious conversation on the state of the perennials. He dismounted his horse, handed the reigns to a stable boy and approached them. As he tipped his hat to her, Lizzy dismissed the groundskeeper without looking at him. She glanced nervously towards the house and went to place her hand in the elbow that had not yet been offered to her.
They had walked for five minutes directly away from the house before he spoke.
"Were you trying to get me alone?"
Lizzy glanced up at him.
"I haven't seen you without Georgiana in weeks. And now Jane is here too, and the babies..." she trailed off. It had been days, actually.
"I can't think what the Mistress of Pemberley could possibly need to say to me that she ought not say under the watchful eye of her sister – in – law."
"You know I can't say anything with Georgiana around. You know I'm not a real person in that house."
He stopped and pulled her in front of him, and she met his eyes properly for the first time. She looked tired, he noted.
"I need to be a real person with you. And I think you need it too, or you wouldn't come to my home every day of your life." She looked to him at once very wise and very, very young.
"What kind of understanding do you have with George Wickham?" he asked bluntly.
"He comes and I give him money and he goes away. It's the only way. He can't leave my sister, and he won't stay with her unprovoked. Darcy never need know, if you don't tell him."
"You have him now. He married you. Lydia's antics can't hurt you now. Talk is the worst thing anyone can do."
"It's enough. It's bad enough that he's saddled with me, that I had to be taught how to run a house like Pemberley, that I still embarrass him. I can never, ever do well enough and I'm not about to make it worse."
He took her hand.
"I'm not going to say anything. It's not my marriage, it's not my sister."
"And you'll come back? You will come visit me in the morning and smile at me when Georgiana raises her perfect little nose at me for laughing too loudly?"
He twirled her in a graceful circle with the hand he still held.
"I will always come back. I will never leave you. Though you should know that you never laugh too loudly anymore and I wish you would."
She smiled and dropped his hand.
"You don't embarrass him. How could you? You're perfect. You're doing this perfectly."
She shook her head decisively and turned back towards her home.
"Then why does he still look at me like that?" she asked. Like that.
"Like he always did, you mean?" She nodded. "It's possible you never knew what he meant by that look."
"Where have you two been?" asked Georgiana as Lizzy and Fitwilliam entered the parlour. Lizzy walked over to where Jane was sitting, rocking a cradle with her foot. She peered inside at Pippa, her sister's sleeping younger child.
"We were walking, Georgiana," said Fitzwilliam calmly. He leaned down to kiss his ward on her cheek.
"It's a lovely day for a walk," said Jane. She looked at her younger sister in interest as Fitzwilliam joined her by the cradle and reached down to touch the baby's cheek and cupping Lizzy's elbow as he did so in an apparently subconscious gesture.
"My brother came here looking for you," said Georgiana. Lizzy stood and Fitzwilliam dropped her elbow as she did so.
"And?" asked Lizzy lightly. Fitz smiled at her, slightly proud, remembering a time when Elizabeth would have felt compelled to explain herself to the younger girl. Elizabeth held her chin high, every inch the lady of the house.
"I told him you didn't come with me to the Pritchard's this morning and when I come back you two were nowhere to be found and I had been sitting with Jane ever since," said Georgiana primly.
"And so you have," agreed Lizzy dryly.
"Did you see where he went, Georgiana?" asked Fitzwilliam sharply. Something in his tone softened her slightly. She dropped her superior countenance and shook her head.
"No, he went out again."
Fitzwilliam nodded and stood, easily piecing together events in his head. He nodded swiftly to the women gathered and took his leave.
It was late evening before Fitzwilliam at last located Darcy.
He found him around a table at one of Lambton's finer establishments with several other landowning gentleman, deep into a game of cards that Darcy appeared to be losing handily. Based on the boisterousness of the crowd and of his cousin in particular, Fitzwilliam guessed him to be rip roaring drunk.
"Ah, Fitz! Pull up a chair, won't you? I swear my luck is about to turn around," he said jovially. Fitzwilliam frowned. His cousin could rarely be induced to venture out at nights, let alone into groups of rowdy gentlemen. He never had, preferring the company of himself or Bingley, or Wickham in years long past.
Darcy threw down a card that was quickly trumped by the player to his left. Fitzwilliam felt a flash of resentment for his cousin who could lose money at cards without thinking of it, and once again reflected how commonplace it had become to so resent him.
"Let's get you home," said Fitzwilliam. Darcy grasped a tankard and knocked back what appeared to be half a pint of amber liquid.
"We're just getting started. Get yourself a drink and sit down," ordered Darcy. He tossed a coin at Fitzwilliam, who caught it in one hand.
"Elizabeth will be waiting up for you." Darcy stared at his cousin for a moment, some of his haze briefly lifting. "Mrs. Darcy will be waiting up for you."
"These men are all married, and you don't see them rushing home. I waited for Elizabeth, she can wait for me," he said. Some of his less drunken companions were beginning to lose some interest in the game and were focused on Darcy's rambling. This, felt Fitz, was enough. He made eye contact with the young son of the barkeep and tossed him the coin that Darcy had given him. Darcy was taller than him, and weighed more.
Outside, Fitz was dismayed to see that Darcy had ridden over. He saw little chance of coaxing Darcy on to the tall black stallion. He turned to the young barkeep that Darcy's arm was currently draped over.
"Sit him down and go find us a coach to get us to Pemberley. I'll give you another coin if you do so quickly and don't tell anyone else what you're doing," he instructed firmly. The young man nodded and deposited Darcy on to the tavern steps. Hesitantly, Fitzwilliam went to sit beside him.
It began to rain.
"I came home to see my wife and she wasn't there," said Darcy without preamble.
"Georgiana told me."
"She was with you, wasn't she? I thought she wasn't even speaking to you," said Darcy. Fitzwilliam thought it best to respond to the easiest of these remarks.
"She was with me. We were walking. Georgiana shouldn't treat Elizabeth like her charge," said Fitzwiliam.
"Did she argue with you? Did she laugh?"
"Georgiana?" asked Fitzwilliam incredulously.
"Elizabeth. My wife. Did she laugh? The way she used to? The way you made her laugh at Rosings. She doesn't laugh like that anymore," said Darcy. He took off his hat and twirled it around in his hands, looking for a moment like a young boy.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Fitzwilliam firmly. He thought of Elizabeth Bennett at Rosings Hall as he had first seen her, laughing and talking back to his Aunt Catherine.
"She's not even a real person. I loved her for being a whole person, and by loving her I destroyed her. It's despicable, really," he reflected. "I had to have her, and I didn't care what I had to do to get her. I threw her little sister to the wolves and let my little sister drain away what I loved about her. And I helped."
Fitzwilliam had never been so relieved as when he saw the young barkeep approach them with a cheap hired carriage. He tied Darcy's magnificent horse and his own to the back of it and helped his cousin in to the carriage.
By the time they arrived back at Pemberley Darcy was half asleep. A manservant met them by the carriage and helped his master down. Fitzwilliam assisted him up the many stone steps to the front doors and heaved them open.
Elizabeth was waiting. She wore her dark hair in a long braid and wore a loose dressing gown over a sleeping shift. His gaze lingered on her for a moment and she looked down without meeting his eyes.
"Will?" she said softly, going to meet him. He was thoroughly drenched and smelling of malt liquor.
"Elizabeth," he murmured. He touched his hand to her pale cheek. This was enough, Fitz decided. He turned to leave through the still open door. He thought he heard Elizabeth say his name before he shut it firmly behind him.
