A Countess for a Colonel (Pride and Prejudice Variantion)

~One~

One week later....

Elizabeth Darcy placed her infant son over her shoulder and patted his back.

It never ceased to amaze her how such a small being managed to be constantly hungry.

Not that she minded, but it would be nice if the child slept more than four hours each night.

Having refused the services of a wet nurse, young Duncan Fitzwilliam Bennet Darcy slept upon a cot in the corner of his parent’s bedchamber.

That, in itself was an additional oddity, for the master and mistress of Pemberley shared a bedchamber, much to the amused whisperings of the servants.

But of this, none dared venture an opinion outright, for the alteration in the demeanor of Fitzwilliam Darcy since his marriage was a welcome change.

Oh, not that he was ever severe, or prone to anger, no, for he was the best of masters.

It was the simple observation that now, not only did he smile, but was even known to laugh with regularity.

Indeed, marriage seemed to be a most agreeable state and with the arrival of the first child, all the more wonderful.

Unfortunately, despite Pemberley’s grand size and nearly autonomous self-sufficiency, it was impossible to keep all of the world’s miseries from breaching its gate.

Settling the child in his cot, Elizabeth gave instructions to the nursemaid and sought her husband’s company.

He had been absent from her that hour, a time usually spent in mutual wonder over the tiny miracles performed by their child.

As new parents, they could not seem to get enough of the small human they had created.

Going below, she found her son’s father in his now second favorite place, the library, but there was no expression of happy contentment upon his features as he paced the chamber, lost in some thought that was obviously disturbing.

Announcing her presence with a tap upon the door, for the place, despite nearly two years of marriage, still seemed a private masculine domain.

But, if her husband was to claim but one chamber out of dozens as his own, Elizabeth would not complain.

Pemberley, as vast in size as it was beautiful, offered comfortable respite in many chambers of which she was free to choose, as was the collection of books, forming a silent audience from inside the glass cases.

Deep in contemplation, it was some time before Darcy noticed his bride, and forced a smile, bidding her to enter.

The reluctance of Elizabeth to intrude in the library was something he did not understand, having many times, insisted that she possessed this room as much as she did his heart.

But now, he gestured to a letter, lying open upon the great leather topped desk.

“Unfortunate news has come...most unfortunate...”

“What is it? Papa? Mama?” Elizabeth queried in worry, for neither of her parents were young, nor were they known to take the best of care when it came to health.

To this, Darcy shook his head, smiling sadly, “Your parents are fine...at least as far as we know. No, a letter came today from my cousin Richard.”

“The Colonel? Is he?” Elizabeth began, for a military man was always in the face of danger, and she was rather fond of the soldier.

Seeing the mixed emotions upon her countenance, Darcy again shook his head, “He is well, but I am afraid, that my Uncle Matlock and cousin Edward are not...they are dead.”

“Dead? The Earl? Edward? But how? When?”

The questions tumbled faster than could be answered, for it was indeed, most disturbing, especially given the difficulties between the relations.

George Fitzwilliam, Earl of Matlock, had not approved of his nephew’s choice of bride, and upon the recommendation of his sister, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had severed all ties between the Darcys of Pemberley and the Fitzwilliams of Redbyrne.

Had Darcy’s mother, Anne, lived to see her son so happily wed, things might have been different.

But Anne Fitzwilliam Darcy was long in her grave, unable to provide any truce.

But death had a strange way of balancing the world, for now, as the magnitude of the situation dawned, things might be very different.

Surely, those very changes were what had so occupied her husband’s mind, and now, Elizabeth waited for him to elaborate.

“A carriage accident. In addition to my uncle and cousin, the coachman was also lost, only the footman, by some miracle, managed to escape.”

“What sort of accident?” Elizabeth posed, knowing that accidents happened with great frequency, but often resulted in nothing more than a broken wheel and inconvenience.

At worst, a horse may need to be shot, but rarely, unless utter carelessness or some manner of natural force, such as an errant deer chancing across the road, fatalities were rare.

This time, Darcy winced, for his cousin had spared no detail, knowing that the master of Pemberley would not settle for anything less.

“High speed and sharp turns, near the River Derwent. They all drowned...a fortnight ago.”

“Oh! How horrible!”

In an instant, Elizabeth Darcy’s vivid imagination pictured the two men trapped, unable to escape as frigid water slowly filled the carriage.

It would have been a mercy to have sustained some injury which would render them senseless beforehand.

And even though she found it difficult to believe it had not been fate, Elizabeth kept her own counsel.

Having never been introduced to either gentleman, she must believe their reasons for disapproval of her family to be based on societal expectations, and nothing more.

Studying his wife’s silence, Darcy nodded in agreement, and proceeded to reveal the additional news carried by the letter. With the deaths of his father and brother, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was now the thirteenth Earl of Matlock.

“It took nearly a week to locate Richard, as his regiment was out on some sort of extended training. Then, it was another week before he managed to arrive at Redbyrne. Unfortunately, by that time....” Darcy paused, eliciting a sigh that sounded more like a plea for patience. “By then, Aunt Catherine had arrived.”

“Oh dear.”

“Oh yes. And now, Richard asks for our assistance, and under the circumstances, I cannot see any way to deny him.”

“But of course we shall help, in any way we can!”

“But Elizabeth, you do realize what this means? Don’t you?”

Elizabeth’s mind spun towards all the necessary things that one must do after a death, but almost immediately discarded the need for her help.

Had it not been a fortnight since the accident?

Surely the dead did not yet wait for burial?

Shuddering involuntarily at the thought, she looked at her husband in bewilderment.

“Means? Beyond the fact that poor Richard has lost his family? Or, that he does not wish to take on the responsibilities of Earl?”

“I am afraid it is not that simple, especially if Aunt Catherine has her way.”

Elizabeth’s eyes flew wide, for it was so unlike Darcy to be concerned with the affairs of others when it came to marriage. Or at least, not since his botched interference between the affections of her sister Jane, and his own dear friend, Charles Bingley.

“You don’t mean?”

“I do indeed, we must find my cousin a wife before Aunt Catherine does, or at least, create enough distraction that he has time to decide for himself. Richard has never had the nerve to stand up to her, and I am afraid, under the duress of present circumstances, he might well cave to whatever she wants, including the choice of a wife.”

Proffering the letter, Elizabeth slowly read the desperate words, reddening slightly with embarrassment as she was personally mentioned.

After apologizing for the delay in the communication, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam got right to the point, but that was where Elizabeth found herself uncomfortable.

“I am too shocked by the unexpected turn that my life has taken to think clearly, and honestly if not for our dear Aunt’s commanding presence, I fear that I might have returned home to find moldering corpses awaiting me, such was the state of affairs when I departed.

But, as expected Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a force not to be refused and she has made every effort to see to my comfort.

Unfortunately, I have just realized the price of her compassion, and that is to marry me off immediately and has wasted no time in her efforts, despite my father and brother hardly being cold in their graves.

Naturally, when I inquired as to if word had been sent to Pemberley, she did not see any wisdom in your opinions, preferring to preserve the barrier she has imposed since your marriage.

In the defiance of her wishes, and choosing to follow your own hearts, I too, now that I must wed, wish to do the same.

However, as you, cousin, have already taken the most perfect woman in all of England, I must settle for second best. God willing, and with your assistance, I shall find as close an equal to your Elizabeth.... ”

It was a strange communication, one that demonstrated the distress being experienced, but it was a tale often told.

Unexpected death sometimes made princes out of paupers, and while Richard Fitzwilliam had never been penniless, he had been in no position to take a wife, had the desire presented.

In truth, Elizabeth had believed him to be a confirmed bachelor, placing duty to Crown and Country above all.

But now, that same duty called him elsewhere.

In an instant, the colonel had become an earl, and every earl needed a countess.