Sons and Daughters Page 2

  His aunt had, in turn, found herself more accommodating doctors.

  As her eyes drifted closed her nephew cleared his throat.

  “Ah, Darcy, you’re here at last.” Surprised at finding her glass empty she motioned for a refill. “You must try my new medicine – I am feeling ever so relaxed, much more ‘the thing’ as the young people say. My, doesn’t Anne look lovely in brown? Wake up, Anne, don’t slouch. Brings a sort of pallor to her skin so abnormal in nature as to be appealing, is it not? No, don’t smile Anne, never laugh nor grin; you will develop wrinkles, my dear. My skin is as smooth as it was when I was ten and seven and do you know why? That was a rhetorical question, Anne; no answer is wanted. Where was I? Oh yes, my delicate complexion. My porcelain-like facade is due solely to the fact that I have not really enjoyed myself in over forty years.”

  Patience, Darcy he inwardly groaned. Patience was the thing needed when dealing with parents, aunts or uncles as they grew older. Aunt Catherine must be nearing six hundred years by that reckoning... Accepting a glass of the brownish liquid from his aunt’s hand he took a tiny sip to appease her. His eyes flew open as the liquid fire was swallowed. “Good god! What in bloody hell is in this drink?!” he began to reach frantically for water.

  “Your language, sirrah!” Her nephew’s sudden shout and gagging sound had brought the quizzing glass up to her eye. “This is medicine, young man, med-i-cine. It needs to be strong. This mixture is specially blended to fight off possible infections of the lung.”

  “It could fight off the Huns.”

  Catherine narrowed her gaze at this comment and a moment of silence was savored by all before her attention wandered.

  “Darcy, I hear Elizabeth refused to return to the city with you. Why I wonder?” So much for benevolent silence. “Does she have too many cicisbeos attending her perhaps?” Darcy kept his lips firmly sealed and stared her down as long as possible.

  He broke first.

  “Why do you bedevil these topics every few months? Elizabeth is not with me at present because she remained behind in comfort to her sister, Jane, who has suffered a miscarriage. Meetings already scheduled in town forced me to leave Elizabeth and the children at Netherfield. I can assure you she will arrive here at any moment.”

  “It’s nothing to me...”

  “Yes, and I’m gratified to hear you acknowledge that. And, there are no cicisbeos in our home. Not one. Only children and dogs, a number of ferns and perhaps one or two cats.”

  Catherine was fast losing interest now and had begun fussing with her hair and fichu, resituating to her cheek a small black patch that had wandered perilously close to her lips. “Never mind about that – have you spoken with your cousin? Not this one, the other. No, don’t tell me, I have sworn to neither speak of him nor with him ever again and I shall tell him so directly when he and his family come for dinner on Sunday. I should like you to come also, Darcy. I am at my wits end with Agatha. She never acknowledges me when I speak at her, merely stares at her hands; very rude. But, she is American.”

  “Amanda, Aunt Catherine.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Her name is Amanda. If she did not reply to you that could very well be the reason.”

  “Well, who is Agatha then?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Are you certain of this, Darcy? She’s a tallish woman, comely in a dark light, masses of unruly hair, large, wet, brown eyes like a spaniel. Dreadful accent.”

  “How many wives could he have, Aunt Catherine? Yes, she is one and the same.”

  “Oh, how very suspicious. I wonder what necessitated her change of name? It won’t help her situation you know, she’s still foreign. No one will recognize her and all the political capital that fool of a nephew of mine acquired at Waterloo is now laid to waste. He could have done great things in the House of Lords, momentous things. I always said he was more suited to the Earldom than that idiot brother of his, Regis! And, he is still very well regarded among a certain raffish segment you know. Richard I mean, not Regis. And my brother is so very like his son, Richard – stubborn, foolhardy! He cried tears of joy when Richard was elevated to Colonel on his own merit. Now they barely speak.”

  “There were steps being taken toward reconciliation, were there not?”

  “There has been a start, I have seen to that; but, for some reason it is still strained between them. The problem of course always was, and always will be, that American wife of his. Richard’s wife, that is, not his father’s. His father’s wife was Scottish. She’s dead now, did you know? Resembled a Foo Dog when she was alive, more’s the pity. Now that she’s dead I have no idea what she resembles…”

  “Aunt Catherine, you’re drifting again.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, my mind is as sound as…something. What was I saying? Ah, yes; what’s her name is certain to be a hindrance to him when he takes his father’s place in the House of Lords, you mark my words. How in the world will she entertain? Whom will she entertain?” Catherine began to fan herself briskly, old aggravations rising. “If still unmarried he would be in a position now to wed a Countess or a Duchess if he so chose, a Princess as well! Of course it would have to have been a rather peculiar Princess, but still and all...”

  “Aunt Catherine, he loves her. Amanda is a very good wife to him and an exemplary mother.”

  “I never said she wasn’t an adequate human being, Darcy. I like her well enough; merely that she won’t do as a political wife.” She spoke each word slowly, as if Darcy had suddenly lost his reasoning powers. “She simply will not do! It’s not her fault, of course I realize that. I am nothing if not the soul of egalitarianism but were you aware that she oftentimes does her own cooking?” Catherine studied her cuticles for a moment. “You see what I am saying of course. She bakes bread, Darcy. I suppose she butchers the pigs and grinds the flour as well…“

  “Catherine, that is barefaced snobbery.”

  “What is your point?”

  “You frighten her!”

  “Well, that’s very kind of you to say, Darcy, but I shan’t be moved. I have made overtures you know. I am more than willing to train the gel, perhaps start with something rudimentary but necessary, say the proper method of eating Sole Meuniere when dining with members of the Royal Family. However, my mere suggestion of that very thing set Fitzwilliam off into gales of laughter! Ignorant pup! I worry for that magnificent daughter of theirs.”

  “You refer, of course, to the daughter named for you.”

  She narrowed her gaze at her nephew. “I refer, of course, to the only daughter they have. Don’t be ill mannered.” Catherine smoothed a few imaginary stray hairs from her wig, then again resituated the slippery cheek patch. “The fact that she resembles me so closely in beauty is purely coincidental. I was thinking of her prospects really, more than Amelia’s…”

  “…Amanda,” corrected Darcy.

  “Whomever. As I was saying, I worry for Katherine Marie. I wish you to speak with him for me about this. I can prepare her for the future. That precious girl will surely suffer for her parent’s misalliance…”

  “She wouldn’t be here but for her parent’s misalliance…”

  “…and I worry how she will make a suitable match without the proper training; without the guidance of a true aristocrat in her midst. Heaven knows Fitzwilliam goes to great lengths in repudiating his heritage, engaging in demeaning physical labor.”

  “He is a member of the Ordnance Board, an appointment by the Crown through letters patent. He is Surveyor General, aunt – hardly what I would consider demeaning physical labor!”

  “I am admiring your waistcoat, Darcy, very smart.” Evidently her attention had wandered off again and Darcy hadn’t noticed. “Well, thank you for stopping in to visit with your elderly aunt – a very pleasant surprise, I might add. Do you have any appointments today?”

  He opened his mouth to remind her that this visit was her idea, but thought better of it. “I am to luncheon with Fitzwilliam then I have a meeting at Parliament regarding our Derbyshire MP problem. Cavendish is dragging his feet.”

  When it came to politics Catherine’s mind was always sharp as a razor. “Cavendish is a puppet for Devonshire, don’t ever forget that. Do be careful of those people, Darcy, a power struggle can be so very undignified. If you feel you must replace him take your time, train your man well, and then strike at the next election. I don’t foresee you having much difficulty; the Duke can be a bit feeble minded at the best of times and is much weaker than he was. I never did care for that family, and his wife! Scandalous woman. Georgiana Spencer was infamous for behaving in the most common sort of way. The greatest beauty of her day they claimed! Poppycock! You know, of course, I debuted a few years later than she, otherwise…”

  With one eye on the hall clock Darcy settled back to listen to this familiar and long winded harangue.

  Chapter Four

  It seemed to Richard Fitzwilliam, Baron Somerton when not at home, that his morning would never end. He had been besieged by the Royal Surveyors just returned from India with their long winded suggestions for map refinements and was now drowning in the inevitable paperwork snag. Five years earlier he had accepted the position of Surveyor General, a political office that often changed with the government of the day, and was currently reporting to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington. Wellington had been his mentor for years, his friend and his former general in the Peninsular Wars; and, Richard had made a great success of his current position he supposed, but not in the way he hoped. He had envisaged traveling the world with his beloved family in tow, overseeing the plotting of exotic locales.

  Instead, he spent hours entertaining humorless diplomats from foreign countries or the ignorant nobility of his own. But – well,
it paid the bills and he could feed and shelter his growing family (speaking of which he made a mental note to speak with Amanda once again about this Catholic obsession with children. After all, they had five already; surely that was more than enough to appease the church. It was time he put his foot down, metaphorically speaking – time he took command of his own bedroom.)

  He noticed a shattered cup on the floor behind a chair and remembered his father’s visit of the day before. Richard had thrown the cup at the wall after his father’s angry departure and felt keenly again the disappointment he was to that man. They had fought bitterly, the same argument they often had – both swaggering, both insulting, the threats becoming more personal as the fight heated. His father was the finest man he knew but too proud by far and stubborn, as was his son. He dismissed the memory quickly. No good could come of traveling that irritating road again.

  “You wanted to see me, colonel?” Patrick O’Malley, Fitzwilliam’s longtime batman, entered the room. The two men often liked to enliven their boring working hours the way they had entertained themselves during warfare, by attempting to aggravate each other as much as possible, usually successfully.

  “O’Malley, you’re sacked. I’ve been calling for you for hours.”

  “That’s a bit harsh, sir. Wasn’t gone but a few minutes. Maybe more.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I was takin’ a piss, sir, and may have got carried away with the sheer adventure of the thing.”

  “Well, piss on your own time. I need you to run these papers over to the Peer’s secretary for me. You can go have a bite to eat after that since I’ll be off as well, that is if my cousin ever arrives. I don’t expect I’ll be returning to the office until late. I’m to meet Bretton and Finch upstairs later...”

  Just then the door opened and in walked Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  “Darcy! It’s about time you arrived!”

  “Wonderful to see you as well, Fitz.” Darcy then turned to O’Malley. “Hello, Patrick. Good to see you, how is Mrs. O’Malley?”

  “Grand, sir. Just grand, and, I thank you for askin’. She’s got a proper cap to wear now she does, enjoys bossin’ around her new maid.”

  Fitzwilliam slammed a cup down to kill a roach.

  “Excellent news, and well deserved I might add. And the boys? Getting quite tall I’ll warrant.”

  “Growin’ like weeds, they are, another on the way and, again, so good of you to inquire.” Patrick swept away the dead bug with his hand then wiped his hand on his trousers.

  “My, aren’t you two delightful? A regular Tristan and Isolde without all that lovely prose to distract the mind. Well, as much as I hate to break up this heartwarming tableau I’m famished and you’re nearly a quarter hour late, Darcy.”

  “And you’re in a foul mood. Has he been like this all day, Patrick?”

  “Naw. Most times, he’s worse.” With his packet of papers tucked beneath his arm, Patrick then turned and left before he was sacked once again.

  “Well, White’s or Brook’s today, Darcy?”

  “White’s of course.”

  “Damn it to hell! I wagered you’d say Brook’s, entered it into the book only yesterday.” Fitzwilliam shrugged on his old overcoat, pulling his gloves out of his ancient beaver hat. “Don’t look at me like that. You always go to Brook’s when they serve brown trout.”

  “I never eat trout. You eat trout you big fool.”

  “Oh, you’re right. Damn. The posted odds were awfully good too; ah well. You just cost me five quid so the meal is on you today. By the way, what color gloves have you on… Damn! That’s ten quid you owe me now.” He began to button his coat. “Darcy, out of curiosity, what do you buy Lizzy when she’s out of sorts with you? Amanda and I had a bit of a disagreement this morning, haven’t a clue as to why, I am a perfectly amicable fellow. Perhaps it’s her woman’s time. Lord, don’t ever tell her I said that. I’ll buy her something, maybe a hat.”

  “I wouldn’t if I were you. Women are particular about fashion – a concept which I know is foreign to you.”

  “Are we speaking of women being foreign to me now or fashion?”

  “Take your pick.”

  “By the way, she wanted to know when Elizabeth and the children will be here. Poor darling sounded pretty desperate.”

  “I’d say this week, possibly by Friday, Saturday at the latest. I could not begrudge Elizabeth staying behind with her sister, they’ve always been close.”

  “Quite right. The ladies take these mishaps very badly.” Fitzwilliam locked the door behind him and both men walked down the long hallway in silence, lost in personal memories, recalling difficult pregnancies their own wives had suffered over the past few years. As fathers and husbands their very nature was to protect the family – but childbirth! Childbirth was outside their realm, unpredictable, very often dangerous. The terror of harm to the infant or of infection and worse to the women they loved, unthinkable.

  They made their way down the high steps leading from the Home Office Building, returning greetings shouted to them and stopping frequently to exchange pleasantries with acquaintances, but lapsing into their usual companionable silence once alone on the street. Both were consumed with their own problems. Each man had family responsibilities now, problems unique to their separate lives. At one time they had been careless and reckless companions but now each walked down diverse paths, each dealt with distinctive and private pitfalls.

  The sun began to peek in and out of darkening clouds and the winds were picking up strength. “It will be a bitter winter this year I fear.” Darcy pulled his hat down farther and hunched his shoulders against the sudden cold.

  “Probably so, my bones are aching already. I feel every one of my eight and thirty years today, and then some. Why in hell didn’t you bring your carriage?”

  “It was beautiful earlier this morning and you are endlessly complaining about being shut up indoors all day, how you miss an active life. I thought this would please you.” Darcy’s mood was growing as sour as his cousin’s. “Please, no need to gush your appreciation and you can pay for your own damn meal. My lord you are a true pain in the arse when you’re like this.”

  They continued on in silence for another block. Fitzwilliam spoke first.

  “Sorry if I’m a bit waspish.” Fitzwilliam cleared his throat and squinted into the distance. “I saw my father yesterday. It was not a pleasant experience.”

  “Ah.”

  “What do you mean, ‘Ah’! Explain yourself!”

  “Don’t you start with me…” Darcy began to shout back and then closed his eyes in frustration. “I take it you and my uncle are still at odds, then.”

  Fitzwilliam somehow snarled and laughed at once. “That would consign us to a more civilized relationship than the reality. Truth is we very nearly ended up brawling on the floor. He’s insisting I resign my post, and then I’m to follow him around House of Lords like some lackey. He believes this endeavor will somehow instill respect into my thick skull for both my current title and the one to come. Ha! A lot he knows – as if anything could penetrate my thick skull! Do you know where he sits in there? Directly before the Lords Spiritual! I’d go mad, Darcy, if I was forced to take that seat in the future.”

  “What do you mean ‘if’? There is no ‘if’, only ‘when’ – there’s been a Fitzwilliam in Lords for years, centuries. You have no choice.”

  “No choice! Really? There has always been a Cavendish in Commons representing Derbyshire, am I right? You are not minding that bit of insurrectionism.”

  “It is not anywhere near similar. The safety and security of my family, my estate, my tenants – damn it my entire borough – is being threatened by an incompetent MP and a self-serving Peer and why in bloody hell does everyone believe I want to replace Cavendish, why is everyone saying that? We merely need his support for Reform. Bah, you’re not even listening to me. You’re just avoiding the true problem between you and your father.”

  Fitzwilliam’s jaw clenched. “And what problem is that?” All of London society knew the reason for this current rift between father and son, the ton spoke of it in whispers behind closed doors, but none dared face the hotheaded colonel and say it out loud.