Thursday July 29, 1813 – Vitoria, Spain

It was a blessedly quiet for a change. The staff had moved out and he was, for the most part, alone with several orderlies and two other wounded officers. It was difficult to be thankful for being wounded but he could take some comfort in his surroundings. He was not lying in some fly ridden tent with twenty other wounded, crying and moaning in their pain. He, by virtue of his exalted rank of Colonel – which caused a mental snort from him - had been brought back to his quarters which had the not unappreciated benefit of being quiet and clean and dry. Of course, his rank did not prevent the slash of a sabre which, only by the grace of God and a frantic block by his own sabre, buried itself in his arm instead of his body. Only the quick reaction of one of his soldiers to kill the french cavalryman had prevented a second and most probably a killing blow. Nevertheless, if the surgeon was correct, his arm, fortunately his left arm, would not be lost but he was unlikely to recover its full use. He was fortunate to be alive. He had bled freely and it was some few minutes before his orderly had realized the severity of the wound and staunched the flow of blood. He remember little of the following fortnight due to his blood loss and subsequent fever.

Even now, a month after being wounded, he could barely lift the arm and his ability to grasp anything was limited. His days as an active field officer appeared over. No one had said as much but he was expecting to be invalided home soon – at least that was the opinion of his surgeon on the last visit. Fortunately he would not be carried on the ship but could walk, albeit shakily, on his own feet. And As his thoughts skittered around the idea that his military career could be over, he heard the door of his room open and Corporal James, entered bearing a letter.

"A letter for you, Sor"

"Thank you, Corporal. Just place it beside me."

"No, Sor! I will be bringing up dinner in an hour." With which he made a casual survey of the room, picked up the chamber pot to be emptied, tidied a few items on the table by the bed, and, before Colonel Fitzwilliam could tell him to stop fussing about, made an expeditious exit.

Fitzwilliam smiled - James was a fuss-budget but an excellent orderly. He looked at the letter and easily recognized the handwriting as that of Darcy.

Darcy House

May 8, 813

Richard,

I truly hope this finds you well. I think it safe to assume that by the time this letter reaches you that the army will be moving against the French. Please keep that ugly carcass of yours in one piece, I plan to win many more billiard games and Georgiana is expecting you to dance with her in her season. She was most eager to send her regards and admonishment for your safety when she learned I was to write you. Consider yourself admonished.

I consider myself the luckiest man in the kingdom. Miss Elizabeth Bennet will become my wife in less than a fortnight. There were a few obstacles to overcome but all is well. I will relate the particulars when next we speak. I called on Elizabeth whilst she was in London and was groomsman for Captain Amos Stovall who married Miss Jane Bennet in late February. I invited the Stovalls and Elizabeth to accompany Georgiana and myself to Pemberley for several weeks to break their trip to Yorkshire to visit Captain Stovalls relatives there. Whilst there Elizabeth and I had the opportunity to resolve those issues that separated us and to get to know each other much better.

I proposed in mid March and wrote her father for his approval. Elizabeth, Georgiana and I accompanied the Stovalls to York. Georgie and I stayed with Bingley while there. It was a most illuminating trip and Bingley continues to mature. He is very much his own man now.

In mid April Elizabeth, Georgie and I travelled back to London, stopping briefly on the way at Elizabeth's home in Hertfordshire to meet her parents. We then proceeded to London where she is staying with her aunt and uncle. I am in her presence as much as possible. I won't bore you with effusions of delight. I am besotted and gladly acknowledge the fact. I have never known such happiness and contentment. Georgie finds equal pleasure in her company and I believe that she is as close to Elizabeth now as if they had been born sisters. I can already observe such improvement in her manner as to leave me confident that she will do well when she comes out which, we anticipate, will be this fall during the short season.

"The man is besotted!"

I informed your father and mother about the engagement shortly after returning to London. I will not hide from you that your father's initial reaction was of extreme displeasure. I sense that he expected to be asked to consent to the match rather than simply to have been informed of it. My aunt was not slow to prevent either of us from saying something we would later regret. I did make it clear that I would marry Elizabeth regardless of their approval which, I must suppose, had somewhat to do with your father's reluctant approval which he gave before I left. Your mother was more welcoming although she obviously had some reservations.

Elizabeth and I dined with your parents several days later and it appears to have gone very well indeed. Your father has publicly supported the engagement while your mother invited Elizabeth and her aunt to tea a day or so later. It was I believe quite successful and the ladies including Georgie and your sister, Frances, have shopped for wedding clothes for Elizabeth. As Elizabeth intimated to me later, it was as much a public endorsement as a shopping expedition and apparently both endeavours were successful.

Our Aunt Catherine, however, is a much different story. I fully expected her to behave poorly and was not disappointed although her actions were a great embarrassment. Not content to disparage Elizabeth in a letter to me, she also wrote Elizabeth. Fortunately, Elizabeth agreed to the destruction of that letter – unopened. I would not have her so insulted. Our aunt was not content to confine her displeasure to the written word but paid a visit to Elizabeth's family, meeting with her father. After failing to persuade him to cancel the engagement, she attempted to pay – bribe – him to do so. I found all this out as he wrote Elizabeth immediately following the meeting. From the tone of his letter, he found our aunt rather ridiculous – a conclusion which I cannot fault and echoed by your father when advised of his sister's actions. Suffice to say I have since advised our aunt that she is not welcome at my houses until such time as she has apologized to Elizabeth. I dare say it may be some time before that happens. My only regret is that Anne will be left even more alone. I could wish that she could be induced to visit your parents.

Fitzwilliam shook his head, "Our aunt is nothing if not predictable. She wants what she wants because she wants it and no one else's wants are worth considering."

I will not bore you with further expressions of my happiness. Once you have returned to England, you must visit us at Pemberley for as long as you may wish. Until then, may God keep you safe.

FD

"So Miss Lydia's problems are not an impediment? Darce did not write to tell me how that was resolved. I suspect there is a good reason for the omission. Well he will not be able to evade the issue when I return." Fitzwilliam's mien became stern, "I hope he has not placed Georgie's prospects in jeopardy." He thought for a few moments, "No, I suspect that whatever he has done, it has been done with due care. I must trust that his judgement is sound and he was not persuaded to rashness due to his interest in Miss Bennet."

Fitzwilliam folded the letter and placed it his trunk. He thought to write a reply but decided it probable that he would return to England by the time a letter arrived. It was time for his daily walk. Calling for his orderly, he walked slowly down the stairs and outdoors. Today he thought he might try to walk as far as the bridge – his strength was slow to return. The loss of blood and the fever that accompanied his wound had greatly weakened him. The surgeon was reluctant to let him return home until he was stronger. Suddenly he found a fierce desire to return to his home and family. He could recuperate there as easily and with more comfort than here in Spain. He must persuade the surgeon to let him travel. As he walked he began to consider what a future might look like should he be forced to retire. He knew his financial position. It was not poor. He could live in reasonable comfort – a wife, he doubted. His income – from his half- pay and investments - was not sufficient to support a wife in anything approaching the comfort that a woman with whom he might attach himself would require. While he did not actually require the £50,000 that was mentioned by Miss Bennet, he probably could not offer marriage to a woman unless she had a dowry of £20,000. With this rather gloomy thought, he collect his orderly and departed for his exercise.