Chapter 33: The Compelling Saga of Two Generals

The Compelling Saga of Two Generals

Friday, 25 December 1812, Christmas

Rosings Park

Georgiana and Lady Catherine joined the ladies in Anne's wing. As it was deemed a special event with Georgiana's visit as well as being the Christmas season, guests were allowed into the wing each of the days.

Both Anne and Elizabeth reveled in the addition to their company. Mr. Darcy, while continuing to visit Elizabeth each night, rarely left her room, limiting Anne's company to only Elizabeth and Peeke.

The night of Mr. Bennet's departure had been emotional. Elizabeth again chastised Mr. Darcy for his insolence to her father—How could you suggest such things! And to my father, of all people!—but later could not help but to laugh at the absurdity—How did he think I ended this way? He does want me to have an easier birthing!

Though she may be an undutiful daughter because of it, she was relieved by her father's leaving. In the house, in her wing, everything was as it should be. None questioned her pregnancy or her attachment to Mr. Darcy. Her father's visit reminded her of the immorality and impropriety of all she was doing, but it also reminded her of why she originally agreed.

She did love Mr. Darcy now. Once she learned of his reason for assuming such an aloof aspect in public, she could do nothing else but adore him. Even knowing he cared deeply for her in return, she knew once this time was over they would separate. She was not of his world and very likely could not adapt to the moral vagaries of the haut ton he was a part of. She could easily forget all of that in her room at Rosings, but the outside world would not be so easy.

Georgiana was a dear. She and Elizabeth easily shared confidences, or as many confidences as Elizabeth felt safe to share with one who was so young and also Mr. Darcy's sister.

After a lovely Christmas dinner for the five of them, the family gathered to exchange small gifts to celebrate the occasion. Elizabeth had embroidered handkerchiefs for them all. Anne gave a fresh flower from the hothouse to each. Lady Catherine and Darcy brought sweets. Georgiana brought each a new book from Town.

Once the other gifts were traded, Anne had one last gift for Elizabeth. "Or to be more precise—a gift for Elizabeth and Darcy," she corrected herself before handing over the package. Darcy sat beside Elizabeth as she opened it. Both were curious as to what Anne would give that could be for them both. When Elizabeth finished opening the package, she lifted out four beautiful blankets with edges embroidered in delicate little animals. In one corner of each, was a small inscription with the name of "Darcy" in ornate lettering and a smaller, simpler "Love, your mother" under the name.

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy each took one and exclaimed over the fine details and the beautifully done animals. But then Elizabeth stopped, as a peculiar expression crossed her face.

She had spent nine months at Rosings Park knowing her position. She would keep her own council on most of Anne's oddities or Lady Catherine's absurdities. It was not her place to openly address either.

Maybe it was due to the emotional upheaval from Mr. Bennet's visit. Maybe it was due to her rapidly increasing size. Maybe it was just a culmination of nine months of keeping herself from openly laughing at the ridiculousness of those around her. Whatever the reason, Elizabeth could no longer keep from vehemently expressing her thoughts, nay, her demands, on this one.

"NO!" she cried in exasperation as she rose to her feet, flinging the blanket in her hand into Darcy's lap. "I know I have no say in what happens to this child, but on this I am resolute! You will not name my child Darcy Darcy! One is enough," she opined wearing a look of disgust as she motioned toward the man sitting next to her.

"Darcy Darcy? Why would we name it that?" Mr. Darcy frowned. Then looking confused, he asked, "What do you mean, one is enough?"

"You. Having you named that. Is that not enough for one family?" she answered in disbelief. Looking at the confusion that remained on his face, she asked, "That is your name, is it not?" she asked in vexation. "I've never heard you called anything else." She went around the room, motioning to those present as she mentioned them, counting off on her fingers the others. "You are Anne, you are Catherine, you are Georgiana, your other cousin is Richard, the Earl is Henry, the Countess is Elanor, the Viscount is Robert." Stopping, she turned toward him and pointed her finger in accusation. "You are Darcy." It all made perfect sense to her, and she was not going through all of this only to have the child she was to give birth to be given such an absurd name.

The other four residents of the room looked at her in disbelief. None said a word.

Elizabeth, feeling she was correct in her assumption, continued. "The wealthy can afford to give their children whimsical names, but I will not have it for my poor baby."—She placed her arms protectively around her stomach.—"To be saddled with such a name! What would you call him? D two? D squared the second?"

Georgiana looked at her brother who made the mistake of returning her look. Unable to stop himself, Mr. Darcy began to laugh. He could not contain the mirth that now bubbled over. His pent up emotions from Mr. Bennet's visit found their release. Once he started, Georgiana couldn't help but join him. Lady Catherine, who thought laughter highly improper, couldn't stop a snort or two of her own. Anne, who was too weak for a good belly laugh, tittered.

Elizabeth was highly offended at being the subject of their entertainment. "Why is this so amusing?" she demanded.

Once Mr. Darcy was able to catch his breath and regain some semblance of his countenance, he told her "Fitzwilliam. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy. Not Darcy Darcy, or, what did you call me, D squared?" He couldn't help laughing again.

"Fitzwilliam?" she asked in confusion. "That's your cousin! Be serious, that is not a given name!" but seeing Mr. Darcy nodding, she began to recognize the absurdity of her suggestion. "Is that really your given name?" she asked, a bit less forcefully than her other pronouncements.

Mr. Darcy again nodded as he made a valiant attempt to rein in his cachinnation.

Elizabeth, now thoroughly irritated, went off on another rant. "Who names their child that! William, I can see, but Fitzwilliam? Son of William? (1) What do you name your child? FitzFitzWilliam? What do they call you … oh right," she rolled her eyes, saying flatly "they call you Darcy." She crossed her arms in front of her in a huff.

Georgiana tried, she really tried, to not laugh anymore. Even holding her hand in front of her face to stop herself. Darcy tried too. Years of training in regulating his emotions were well used to hold in his mirth while Elizabeth sat across from him scowling in frustration.

Then she looked at him, his eyes watering in his attempt to regulate his emotions, and recognized the absurdity of all she had just said. She began to first to smile, then to laugh at her own stupidity. It was a much-needed relief after all the tension surrounding them.

Once they all brought themselves under control, Darcy gave her a brief lesson in his family history. "Part of my mother's marriage contract was the first son would be given her maiden name, Fitzwilliam, in honor of her father, the previous Earl of Matlock, because my father held no title. As a child, I spent much of my time with the Earl's family. Using my first name was confusing, so they just called me 'Darcy' and it stuck. Only my parents ever called me Fitzwilliam."

"Are you going to name this baby de Bourgh? Please say you will not do such a thing!" again cried Elizabeth, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this point.

Anne, exhausted from the earlier laughter, smiled as she assured her friend. "No. That is not a part of my contract. Darcy—Fitzwilliam—is free to name the child as he pleases."

Lady Catherine, having not been a part of the conversation for much longer than her wont, said, "I do believe you should name him Lewis, in honor of his illustrious grandfather. Or Louisa if it's a girl."

Anne looked at her mother. "I believe I agree, Mother. If it is a boy, he can be Lewis Bennet Darcy. If it is a girl, she can be Louisa Elizabeth Darcy. Either one will honor my dear friend who gave the child life."

Though Elizabeth agreed, either was much better than her initial assumption, she still felt it odd that Anne would include such a reference to her in the name of the child she was passing off as heir.

~~~oo0oo~~~

When Darcy joined her in her room later that night, she was standing by the fireplace. She looked at him and started laughing again. "It was silly of me to think your name was Darcy Darcy, was it not."

Darcy smiled, both from amusement and because he was glad to see her happy again. "From your perspective, it was perfectly reasonable." He reached around what used to be her waist and pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head on his chest. He kissed her temple, musing, "How could I have never told you my name? I spent the last few hours wondering how such a thing could happen. At first, there was so much pressure for … everything else, I was so nervous just being here I didn't think about it. Then it seems we just stopped using names when we spoke to one another. There was no need for it."

Leaning back to look into her eyes and stroking his fingers across her chin, he gently kissed her then asked, "May I call you Elizabeth?"

Her eyes twinkled mischievously at him. "You have almost since you arrived."

He smiled. "Yes, I have. Lady Catherine and Anne noticed it immediately, though I did not. But I should ask your permission at some point, even if it is a bit late. So, do I have your permission?" he asked as he lowered his mouth to hers.

She returned his smile once he finished. "You do. You have since the start. Particularly when you are most … engaged."

He took her meaning and smiled while nodded his acknowledgment. "I'm sure that is what I would say when most relaxed. Miss Bennet seemed too formal for … ahem … what we were doing." Looking at her with his brows knit, indecision passed his face for a moment before he decided there was no reason for him to hide the truth from her. He grinned at his own stupidity those few long months ago. "That is not true, you know. I used your given name because I had no desire to lie next to you and know you in this intimate a way and yet call you Miss Bennet."

He pulled her close and began kissing her again. "Now it is your turn," he said. "What would you like to call me?"

"I never really thought about it. You've always been Mr. Darcy or Sir."

"I have no wish to be so formal in here. Think of something else now that you know I'm not Darcy Darcy," he softly demanded, as he moved her toward the nice, comfortable, warm bed.

"William?"

"Isn't that what your friend calls Mr. Collins?"

"Fitzwilliam?"

"What happens when Richard is over? Richard is always coming over." He rolled his eyes as he lifted the counterpane for her. She crawled under and he quickly followed.

"Little Willie?" she laughed.

"No." He whispered definitively in her ear as he began to kiss his way down her body.

"Bill?" He looked up, interested in that as a possibility until she continued. "I can call you Billy. You shall be my Billy goat." A sly smile grew on her face. "My parents were both irritated by you ramming into me. Though I, myself, find it is not such an unpleasant activity. We shall have to learn what happens when you become an old goat."

He shook his head in disbelief. It had been a decent nickname until she ruined it. "I find I do not enjoy being referred to as a goat. And as you father has heartily taken me to task for, as you say, 'ramming into you', I have no wish to be reminded of that either."

"What about Big Red?" (2)

Wondering how she could go from Bill to Big Red, he asked, "Why?"

"Well, you are quite a large man. As you have said it is a name for only in here, you do both grow and change color to more reddish hue," she laughed at the reddish hue his face was adopting.

He would never have believed his most proper Elizabeth could suggest such things! Maybe she had too much wine this evening. Trying to discompose her a bit, he responded, "Your sister is more likely to call her husband that, considering his hair color."

Elizabeth cringed. "I have no desire to have that much information about my favorite sister. Let us try again." She put a finger to her cheek as she gazed at nothing in particular. "Well," she said proudly. "I have already considered you a double D and you are soon to be a father. (3) What if I call you Darcy Daddy? Or better: Big Darcy Daddy!" Shaking her head and exhaling in frustration, she said, "No. It would be better to call you Deluxe Darcy Daddy, then instead just being D squared, you will be D cubed!" Her brows were raised, eyes bright, and she wore the grin of a cat who just ate a canary. She was obviously quite pleased with herself. "I can call you the knight of d'Cube. Or maybe I can just request my nightly entertainments d'cubed."

He raised an eyebrow. "Just how many glasses of wine did you have tonight?"

She laughed again. "Enough to loosen my mind."

"And your tongue. Come now, you must have something reasonable you can call me."

"What about RC?" She suggested, laughing when he looked up at her in confusion. "You are already known as 'duh-R-C', as we determined earlier this evening. I will remove your 'duh'. It would be an especially useful name. When I find you annoying, I can drop the C and call you Rs. On the other hand, if I am desirous of your company, I can call you hRC when I need a ride. Oh, I believe that would be a good one! I can just change it to suit my mood." Having a sudden inspiration, her brows raised as her eyes lit and she said, "It would be perfect when you are snoring! I can tell you to rein in your hRCs and let me get some sleep!" (4)

He rolled his eyes and grinned in disbelief as he shook his head. She was having entirely too much fun at his expense. Again. "Think some more."

"I don't know if I can come up with anything else." She squirmed as the pleasure of his touch began to be felt more fully.

"Keep thinking." As he kissed the baby, resting his face on her belly. "I want something only you will use, but if it is overheard will not embarrass us."

She laughed. "You were speaking of Admiral Nelson the other day. So maybe I should salute you and call you Admiral Willie Nelson while in the bed chambers?" She put her finger to her chin in an affected contemplation. "But wait, maybe it is you who is saluting me?"

He lifted his head from her hip, where his attentions had moved, scowling up at her in utter disbelief. "Do not imagine me to be someone else." He pointed his finger insistently toward her to emphasize his point. "I do not care what Aunt Margaret's letter may suggest. Your friend may need that, but I should hope you would have no reason for it." Returning his attentions to her body, he suggested, "Keep using that imagination you have. You will come up with something."

Running her fingers through his hair and smirking with a small chuckle, she assured him she had no reason to use that particular advice from The Letter.

Then slowly, tentatively, she suggested, "Liam?"

He looked puzzled. "Why Liam?" He lifted his head up to look at her. She had surprised him with all those other lighthearted names, but those were in jest, unlike this one. He had expected her to call him Will—he could not bear her calling him Willie, a name he was tormented with as a boy—or ask about his other names.

"Fitz is the start of your name, Liam is the end. I see the best of you at the end of every day." She smiled down at him.

He raised his brow in amusement. "I like it. Though I hope you appreciate more parts of me than just that one you see at the end of the day." He smiled as he turned his attentions back to pleasuring her lower half for a time, before moving his head back up level with hers.

"I should call you Beth, as it is the end of your name as well."

"That would be one none of my friends or family use."

"I should. But I won't." He looked at her in challenge. Moving himself back up to her lips, he whispered, "I shall call you Ben Key, since the scrap of fabric no longer comforts me like you do."

She laughed. "Should I change my gowns so they all have a silk ribbon dangling from the sleeves for when you need comfort during the day?"

"There is no need for that. When I need your comfort during the day, I shall simply carry you to my room." Then a wolfish grin spread across his face. "Or the closest closet. But I must commend you in thinking of the ribbon." He nuzzled his face into her neck as he whispered, "You are quite a creative creature."

"Am I," she asked with mirth in her voice.

He pulled back to look her in the face, his brows raised in amusement. "You are," he affirmed.

"Then why is it that we only use your imagination?"

Darcy's eyes grew as one brow raised rapaciously. "Indeed. Why is that?" He pulled himself up to sitting, now with an affected scowl but unable to keep the corners of his mouth from twisting up. He pointed at her. "I believe you have been denying me that which should be mine."—He paused a moment for effect—"I will not be denied!"

She could not stop herself from laughing with him sitting in the bed, scowling down at her with his hands on his hips demanding that she lead their interactions that evening by using his most intimidating manner, yet with his body part standing firmly at attention. "Yes sir, General Liam," she jested, pointing out his combatant's readiness.

Hearing her use his new name made not taking charge even more difficult. "I have but one demand," he ordered, now he was unable to keep the smile from creeping up one side of his mouth. "That you only use my new title while issuing your commands, General Ben Key." Then the smile spread to the other side. "Or in any crying out you may feel the need to do."

From there it was a full on guided downhill assault, or down-the-body assault, with Mount Darcy protruding in the middle of that body. Since the body carrying the mount easily knew more convenient—and comfortable for her—access routes for his forces, it took very little time after the first sound routing of their senses for them to begin a new battle.

After the second rout, both conceded their need to surrender to Morpheus. As he lay curled upon her, he placed his hands in their favorite spots, one on his baby and the other on her breast.

~~~oo0oo~~~

(1) That's what the "Fitz" in Fitzwilliam of Fitzroy or Fitzhenry or any of the others means. "Son of". It was frequently given to illegitimate sons so that Earl Fitzwilliam likely has some ancestor born on the wrong side of the blanket!

(2) Big Red is a soda pop that is popular in Texas. There is a funny Texas-folk song about pairing it up with barbecue. The song is called Barbecue by Robert Earl Keen. I'm not really a fan of the drink, but they are fun to get when we have people over who are from different parts of the country or from different countries.

(3) Little could the two characters in this story, existing here in at Christmastime 1812, ever know how desirable double Ds would become in later years. So desirable, in fact, that many otherwise healthy women would submit themselves to the blade to have foreign objects inserted into their bodies to achieve the desired double D. But here, in the Christmas of 1812, such a concept was in a galaxy far, far away.

(4) These should be read: Rs = arse, hRC = horsey (maybe more of an "a" sound instead of an "o", but you get the idea).

~~~oo0oo~~~

Author's Note: This chapter was inspired partly by something my husband did very early on in our marriage + people like William Williams (signer of the US Declaration of Independence), William Carlos Williams (poet), Griffith Griffith (industrialist), Lauren Bush Lauren, several named John John, and a load of others + Fitzwilliam Darcy's first name only appearing 2 times in the novel - once in chapter 25, and then as his signature on the letter at Rosings in chapter 35.

When I wrote this, I had forgotten about it being at the end of chapter 25 - when Mrs. Gardiner is thinking back to living in Lambton, that the senior Mr. Darcy was well respected and "was confident at last that she recollected having heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured boy." Also, Mr. Collins should have used his full name in the marriage vows, but with the chaos of Anne fainting and their running short of time, I'm going with Mr. Collin's just calling him "Mr. Darcy" in the ceremony.

Since we have to drop lots of things from the canon novel, please go with those so that EB had never heard FD called anything except "Darcy" and thought the name on the blanket was to be the baby's first name - just like (she thought) it was FDs.

Part of the inspiration for this story was the stray thought "wouldn't it be funny if she didn't know his first name until late into the story, like when she was having their first child? If she thought he was Darcy Darcy, only to find out he's Fitzwilliam Darcy - which could be just as bad?" So then I wove this whole angsty situation for her to have a child without the normal intimacies that would let you know someone's full name.