Well, I guess even a soldier’s heart can melt, after all.
XOXOXO
Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 12 - An Autumn Accord, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“Sir, the men are mustered and ready for inspection.” The lieutenant saluted Colonel Fitzwilliam after his report.
“Very good. Inspect the men for proper uniform, stockings, and boots. Any found wanting take note and purchase in town, with the cost docked from their pay. I won’t drill through the winter in this godforsaken place with troops not equipped for the weather.” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam rubbed the beginnings of stubble on his chin, ruminating on Headquarters decision to choose such a cold and bleak place for his regiment to spend winter. Being an intelligent man, Richard did not like the future prospects such acclimation to cold weather the men and horses would require.
“Sir, on my own, sir?” The man scarcely appeared over eighteen and just the order to inspect the troops made him pale.
Richard glared his junior officer down, reflecting there was much courage to be found before he would take these troops to charge one of his mother’s garden parties, let alone face Bonaparte’s worst on the Continent. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant Sheffield?”
“No, no, sir. I shall go right away, sir.” Lieutenant Sheffield saluted again and left the commander’s headquarters, the parlor of a local merchant’s home.
Alone, the Colonel shifted a few papers on his temporary desk–reports of the feed and hay levels for the stables and the post for the regiment. Picking up the stack of letters, he sifted through the various family missives and sweetheart whispers until he found a letter for himself near the end. Setting the pile aside for Sheffield to hand out after the inspection, Richard peered curiously at the letter.
The script was not his mother’s hand, yet it clearly held a feminine slant. His heart recognized the handwriting before his mind could agree to the owner. But it was Mary Bennet’s style of writing. His Mary.
Tapping the letter against his hand, he half considered casting it straight to the flames. But he had promised his mother. And lied to Darcy. And this left Richard Fitzwilliam in a quandary.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam did not retreat, yet he tossed the letter to the desk and gathered the remaining post for his men for his saddlebag. He convinced himself this was not cowardice; merely choosing the terms of the battle. With the ominous note waiting for the recipient to shore up his fortitude, Richard left the comfortable warmth of the home to follow behind the inept Sheffield and inspect the stables himself. He trusted the men to junior officers, but the horses, he trusted to none but himself.
In London, the Darcy party included an extra carriage when it arrived in front of the town home. Darcy and Elizabeth had managed to ride alone and come to an understanding regarding many matters. When the formidable couple descended from the carriage they were bombarded by the butler rushing to seek them out.
“Mister Darcy, sir, Mrs. Darcy, how happy you are arrived. Please come at once, sir. The kitchens and the house are in an uproar. The Countess of Matlock is here, sir.” The poor man blanched in such a way, Darcy grasped Elizabeth’s hands and they hurried to the lower servant’s door.
“Of all the bloody blazes to come home–” Fitzwilliam muttered under his breath in aggravation.
“Temper, dear. We shall see and acquit the matter forthwith. Patience.” Elizabeth offered her husband a smile as he glanced back to her, immediately calming him. He held her hand down the stone steps and was about to barge in, when Elizabeth stayed his arm. “Husband, please allow me.” She set her mouth in a firm line and the mistress of Darcy House and Pemberley entered first after the poor butler opened the door.
Two kitchen maids were huddled and whispering in the corner as the Cook shouted at them while still busying her hands with the cutting of dough for meat pies. Raised voices also came from the small office of the housekeeper, Mrs. Kensington.
“There you see now? There be the mistress and the master and you two layabouts be caught gossiping. Get to scrubbing those pans or I’ll see you both dismissed, I will!” The Cook raised her rolling pin in an ominous fashion as Mrs. Darcy nodded to the woman in approval.
With grace and calm, Elizabeth Darcy crossed the kitchens and appeared in the doorway of Mrs. Kensington’s office with her husband just behind her.
Chapter 12(cont'd) - An Autumn Accord, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“I know all. You cannot possibly continue this charade. Empty the contents of the locked drawer instantly!” Lady Matlock menaced the unfussed Mrs. Kensington who remained seated at her desk. Furtively, the housekeeper looked to her employers in the doorway and smiled as she thought for sure she would have the upper hand.
“Milady, I apologize for disappointing you so, but as I said before, household matters are not the business of family members without direction from my master and mistress.”
“Aunt Maggie–” Elizabeth paused so the grand lady glanced at her to realize she was deliberately greeting her in warmth, “perhaps we should go to the study and discuss that which vexes you?”
“No!” Lady Matlock slammed her hand on the desk, “I will not allow this snake in the grass to destroy the evidence. She has been writing to Lady Catherine and telling all. The proof is in that locked drawer.” Lady Matlock’s long finger bejeweled with a heavy ring pointed directly at the left side of the desk, on the far side of the room from where Elizabeth stood.
Elizabeth’s throat clenched at the outrageous accusation of a servant who had been in the family’s employ since the previous Mrs. Darcy’s days, but to question the word of Lady Matlock was a far more egregious crime, even if the family was splintered. And that specific detail was not for the staff to know.
“Mrs. Kensington, please open the drawer so that we might alleviate this matter.”
Mrs. Kensington looked to her employer and stammered as she tried to avoid the demand. “But madame, this is unprecedented! I served this family for two generations and my ability to continue to serve hinges upon mutual respect. Should I open the ledgers of the household to all and sundry as well?”
Elizabeth folded her arms in front of her as she turned her head quickly to see her husband leaving the kitchens without a word. The vote of his confidence that she was to handle this matter on her own warmed Elizabeth down to her toes and a new wave of courage washed over her. “The drawer. I wish it opened.”
Frowning, Mrs. Kensington took pains to try and fail a number of keys on her massive ring for the entire household. The heat of the kitchens began to make Elizabeth perspire and she became slightly dizzy. The sudden haphazard inquisition was unbearable.
Marching forward, she seized the letter opener from the desk and walked around Lady Matlock to the other side of the locked drawer. Pushing Mrs. Kensington’s latest failed key, a ridiculously gilded key that was much too large for such a tiny lock, she allowed her aggravation to escape. “Oh shove off, this is unacceptable.”
Elizabeth Darcy drove the letter opener between the drawer and the desk and gave it a violent shake, breaking the small lock on the drawer with just a few thrusts. Lady Matlock’s mouth dropped, but she quickly recovered. Elizabeth smeared a lock of hair that had fallen from her loosened bun away from her sweaty forehead and grinned at the lady. “Bennet girls and all that.” The two shared a short laugh as Elizabeth yanked open the drawer and pulled out a twined stack of letters all postmarked from Kent.
Lady Matlock eagerly snatched the bundle when Elizabeth placed it on the desk, untying the knot with a sailor’s skill, and began searching through them. “Ha! You’re plucked now, Kensington!”
As Elizabeth accepted the missives from her husband’s aunt, she scanned the lines to see Lady Catherine’s ugly remarks on her sisters, the speculations about Scotland, orders to determine where the sister called Lydia disappeared to, and more. Feeling suddenly ill at the depth of the betrayal, she gasped and clutched the corner of the desk to steady herself. How? How could a family member invoke such treachery on a loved one?
Two footmen and the butler appeared in the doorway and Lady Matlock peered carefully at her nephew’s wife. “Elizabeth, it appears your husband sends reinforcements.”
Elizabeth glanced up at Lady Matlock her face pale, a glisten of sweat on her upper lip. “James, Christopher, give this baggage ten minutes to collect her things and then escort her off the property.”
“But, but I can explain! Lady Catherine was worried about Mr. Darcy, and as his mother’s sister, I am honor bound to help. Mrs. Darcy, please, I’ve worked for the family for over fifteen years!” Agatha Kensington began to panic and offered her half-cockedexcuses.
WHAT A DEAL!
A kiss at the Netherfield Ball . . .
Three Dates with Mr. Darcy is a bundle of: An exclusive story, Much to Conceal, a novella that imagines what if Elizabeth confessed to Jane in London that Mr. Darcy proposed in Kent?
A Winter Wrong, the first novella in the Seasons of Serendipity series that imagines what if Mr. Bennet died at the very beginning of Pride and Prejudice?
By Consequence of Marriage, the first novel in the Moralities of Marriage series that wonders what if Mr. Darcy never saved his sister Georgiana from Wickham’s clutches?
Elizabeth Ann West’s Pride and Prejudice variations have enthralled more than 100,000 readers in over 90 countries! A proud member of the Jane Austen Fan Fiction community since the mid-2000s, she hopes you will join her in being happily Darcy addicted!
Chapter 12(cont'd) - An Autumn Accord, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy did not offer the woman another minute of her time and instead offered her arm to Lady Matlock. The trio of men parted to give the ladies a wide berth for their departure.
“What about my notice? I’ll never find another position!” The yells of Kensington could be heard down the hall as Elizabeth and Lady Matlock left the sweltering servant’s quarters of the town home.
Entering the above stairs region of the room and taking a deep breath of cool air, Elizabeth rubbed her temples. “We are to away to Pemberley. I promised Fitzwilliam no more delays, but without a housekeeper, it will be utter chaos. And I must put a notice for new candidates and interview . . .”
Lady Matlock patted Elizabeth’s hand, breaking her niece by marriage’s rant of her tasks to accomplish. “I put a notice out last week. Candidates will arrive tomorrow and with your permission, I will be here to help you select a new housekeeper. Reginald and I will also be remaining in London for a few more weeks after you to tie up some loose ends, so I will come and make sure the new housekeeper is settled in nicely.”
Elizabeth arched her eyebrow. The last time they had stood in a room, she had offended the Countess of Matlock intentionally and the lady had left the house in a huff. Suddenly, this trouble on behalf of the Darcys began to seem much like Lady Catherine’s spy network. “How did you learn about the letters?”
Lady Matlock laughed. A true, genuine gaff few would ever witness if they had known the Countess for over a decade. “You are a gem! Does Darcy know the sharp he recruited in you?”
A sour taste swirled in Elizabeth’s mouth. “Indeed. I ask again, how is your interference different from our other relation that spied upon us through a servant? I would like an answer before we apprise my husband of the housekeeper’s scheme.” Elizabeth Darcy felt ill-equipped to process the intricacies of this family and society her husband kept, but she held no interest in rejecting one aunt only to welcome the other to the bosom of the family with equal aims.
“My housekeeper is a cousin of Kensington. Jealousy over her cousin’s new funds leaked to my ears, and at first I dismissed it as a ploy to increase her wages. But then Mary was summoned here while you and Fitzwilliam were still in Scotland, and my suspicions were raised.”
“Yes, but why did you not come to me or Fitzwilliam? I do not appreciate coming home to crisis with the staff and I’m certain my husband will feel the same.”
Lady Matlock blanched, then recovered with a sniff. “Yes, well, I had planned to bring up the situation the last time I was here, but other matters . . . and so to make amends, while you were away, I vowed to learn the truth of the matter.”
The word amends rang delicately in Elizabeth’s ears. She sighed, then offered Lady Matlock a smile. The whole situation, even putting a notice in the paper, was not interference. Lady Matlock was offering an apology. And Elizabeth was no fool to think she would receive another.
“Thank you.” The two women made eye contact and held it for a moment of bonding in solidarity. “Let’s go talk to Fitzwilliam before my mother realizes there is a countess in the house.” Elizabeth laughed at the folly of her family further imposing on her husband’s generosity and opened the study door for them both to enter. The two women laughed even more when they came upon Fitzwilliam writing furiously at his desk.
“Husband? To whom do you write with such anger on your face?” Elizabeth asked, bemused that the man had his own crisis to deal with so soon after the dismissal of their housekeeper. Truly, could they not gain one moment’s peace?
“To that ogre in Kent! How dare she spy on my family!” Darcy bellowed as both ladies took a seat.
Elizabeth’s head spun. How had Fitzwilliam known the housekeeper was guilty to send the footmen when he had not remained behind for the discovery of evidence? “Tis true Mrs. Kensington was sending dispatches it appears to your aunt, but how did you know?”
Putting his pen down, Darcy ruffled his ink stained hands through his hair in frustration. He looked at his wife with a maddened expression on his face, like she had gone daft. “The steward of Rosings is the son of Mr. Richards at Pemberley. His loyalties are to me and as soon as he learned of the treachery, he wrote to me.” Darcy pointed towards an open letter on the corner of his desk.
The contents of Elizabeth’s stomach tossed and turned. Did everyone employ spies at one another’s home? Wanting desperately to laugh, the seriousness of her husband’s expression made her gnaw on her tongue to keep her mirth at bay. Begging Lady Matlock to tell her husband of their plans, Elizabeth Darcy excused herself to see to the bedroom arrangements for her mother and sisters, and to ask Cook to help oversee the staff until a new housekeeper could be found. Both nodded at her wise plan, and as she quitted the room, she leaned against the study door she had just closed.
There, in the middle of the marble floored hallway, Elizabeth Darcy laughed until she wept. Her hands naturally rubbed her midsection and she scolded Fate that another fuss had derailed her plans for the evening and a quiet moment to discuss the possibility of children with her husband. After she wiped her eyes and steadied her composure, as every emotion was enhanced in her condition, she decided to walk to the kitchens first to see that Kensington was removed. If she made sure to compliment Cook’s pie crusts, perhaps she could convince the woman to take on the extra workload without too much fuss.
The evening’s darkness creeping into the sky, Richard Fitzwilliam returned to the Holt House in Newcastle on Tyne, exhausted to the bone in a way he had not been in many months. Hearing movement in the parlor dedicated to his office, he nodded to the family servant and ducked into the room just off the entryway. His man Pratt scurried around the room, tidying up in preparation for the next day’s business.
“Leave it. But I won’t say no to a bath if the kitchens can bear it.” Richard walked over to the desk and nodded to the man who had cared for his person in three different countries now. Reports piled up of Wellington’s successes in Spain, there was no doubt the Colonel’s regiment would scarcely be given until spring to shape up and reinforce the cavalry units already charging the lines.
Pratt handed a drink to his employer and comrade before quitting the room. He did not hand the letter from Mary Bennet to Richard; he knew better. But the letter sat conspicuously on the very top of the pile of papers he did leave behind before seeing to the Colonel’s bath.
Richard traced the edge of the letter with his coarse finger and exhaled. All afternoon he deliberated over what the letter contained. Swallowing his drink quickly as a last forge of courage, he leaned back into the wooden chair for his comfort and opened the note.
Dearest Richard,
I heard from your mother you arrived safely in Newcastle and I wish to send my own happiness of such news. I prayed fervently for your safe arrival. I am residing with my aunt and uncle until such time to go to Pemberley. If you should write me in return, please direct your letter there.
In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. The hardest day of my life was seeing you leave London and my memories of the afternoon haunt my every waking thought. I would include my sleeping thoughts, but that should require that I find sleep and I cannot claim thus. My heart, my mind, my very soul despises you for leaving. Despises you for loving me, for respecting my thoughts when no other had before, and then rejecting my love in return for your pride.
On the day I came closest to meeting our Lord in Heaven, you stepped in and killed another for my safety, with no concern to your own well-being. My Richard the lion, my champion.
I have reflected deeply on what I can do as a poor woman with some means to rectify this chasm between us. You, sir, need a champion. I stand as charged.
I discussed with my uncle the possibility of my own establishment in London and he promised to assist my aims, while respecting society’s demands. I shall not have proper lodgings until next spring or summer at the earliest. But even beyond that, you sir, have a champion in me.
I will wait. However long it takes, you have my heart, you have my loyalty, until such time as you find your way back to me. In my deepest soul, I am the wife of a soldier, and I shall find no other.
With Unwavering Love,
Mary Bennet.
Tears pricked the edges of Richard’s eyes and a great tension snapped in his shoulders. His chest, heavy with emotion, made his breathing difficult. He blinked as he furtively tried to read the letter once more but the words blurred before him. Swiping his face with the rough arm of his red coat, he didn’t mind the coarseness of the fabric as he once more could read Mary’s beautiful words. His Mary.
You’ve been reading An Autumn Accord
The fourth season of the Seasons of Serendipity and conclusion of the first year sees Elizabeth and Darcy reconcile the consequences of their honeymoon trip in Scotland with their family’s future. Kitty Bennet and Georgiana Darcy have bonded over their training for debut in society, plus found a bit of mischief to create. When Darcy decides to help his wife mourn the one-year anniversary of her father’s passing with a trip to Hertfordshire, he finds a whole new set of problems await them both regarding the widow Bennet.
An Autumn Accord Book 4 of the Seasons of Serendipity
a Pride and Prejudice novella variation series
Release Date: February 26, 2015
~190 pages in print.
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A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.