Buford looked at Miss Bennet, revising his opinion of her. “Please, allow me.” With that, he escorted the two ladies across the room to the library.
As they prepared to enter the room, he said to Mrs. Hurst, “If I may be of assistance to you or Miss Bingley—”
“No, thank you, sir. You have been too kind.”
“It was an honor to be of service to the lady.”
With that, he took his leave of them. Later he would learn that the Bingleys left Almack’s through a private door very early in the evening. He could not help but overhear the sneers over that. Buford was disgusted with the whole business. He had spent the last few years with war and death and waste; the last thing he wanted to see at home was similar ugliness.
“Sir John?”
He was startled out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”
It was the vicar. “It is time, sir.”
“Excellent,” he said as he rose, straightening his jacket. “Well, gentlemen,” he said to his friends, “shall we get to it?”
Chapter 5
It was a bright January morning, and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was doing his best not to insult the lady seated to his left at the wedding breakfast, but he was in danger of failing. Miss Halifax was a rather comely maiden who seemed to be quite taken with him. Looks were not everything, however. What set the colonel’s teeth on edge was her insipid conversation, held in a manner and tone of speech she undoubtedly considered cultured but, to Richard’s ears, sounded like the squawking of chickens.
“Is not everything lovely? Everything is so charming! I do adore weddings! What is your opinion, Colonel?”
“I like it of all things.”
“I do believe that our Lord was very wise to invent marriage. Such happiness—and children! Do you like children, Colonel?”
How blatant can you be, woman? “Of course.”
“I should love to have children, should I marry. Two, I think. One would show a lack of feeling and three… well, I do so dislike odd numbers. Are not odd numbers so very—odd?” Miss Halifax giggled at her own jest.
“Indeed.”
“And more than three—heaven forbid! I cannot see how ladies can have more than three children. It has an air of”—her voice dropped to a whisper—“unseemliness.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
Someone put me out of my misery. Take a sword and run me through now.
The Darcys and the Tuckers sat at the table with the pair and regarded Richard’s predicament with amusement. Taking pity on him, Darcy whispered something in his wife’s ear, and she turned to speak to the colonel.
“Richard!” said Elizabeth. “While you are in Town, you must come by and visit your young cousin. He has grown much since your last visit, I declare.”
Richard was puzzled—How much could he have grown in two days?—until he recognized the rescue offered him. “Ah, I have been remiss in calling upon young Master Bennet. Forgive me, Mrs. Darcy. Regimental duties, I am afraid. I shall correct my failure at the first opportunity. Fatherhood suits you, Darcy, I think.”
Mr. Darcy nodded at his cousin. “Indeed it does, as long as one has a wife of sensibility and sense to manage the household.” He touched Elizabeth’s hand, and she rewarded her spouse with a brilliant smile. “’Tis a requirement to deal with the Fitzwilliam Curse.”
“Curse, Mr. Darcy?” asked Miss Halifax. “What can you mean?”
“Oh my, do you not know?” asked Elizabeth, eyes growing wide. “Being the wife of a Fitzwilliam or a Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that a lady could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine, were it not for the curse. For centuries it has been thus. But the viscountess bears it well, and Mr. Darcy trusts that I shall do likewise.”
“But, Mrs. Darcy, dare I ask the nature of this curse? Please, I do not wish to offend, but I am full curious!”
Elizabeth turned her fine eyes to her husband. “Mr. Darcy, shall I?”
“Very well, madam,” replied her husband grimly. “She should be forewarned. I trust she shall not find it too distressful.”
Elizabeth looked around the table and leaned forward. “Well, my dear,” she continued to the girl in a low voice, “it seems that the wives of Fitzwilliams—my husband is one on his mother’s side—always have at least three children, and many times more, and always an odd number of them!” Her victim’s eyes grew wide, as did Mary’s, but for a different reason: She knew full well that Mr. Darcy had only one sister. “Oh, the scandal, the unseemliness,” Elizabeth put her hand to her eyes in a dramatic fashion, “but such is my lot in life!”
“Forgive me, my dear,” consoled Darcy.
“Do not speak of it, Husband,” she responded, taking his hand in hers for a moment. “I shall endeavor to persevere.”
Miss Halifax colored. Whether from shock at learning such a horrible secret or the mortification of being the butt of a joke, no one could say, for she chose that moment to excuse herself.
“Forgive me, I must attend my mother. Umm… good day,” she mumbled and left the table. It was well, because Richard could not contain himself much longer.
“Fitzwilliam Curse? Oh, that is rich!” he sputtered, trying to contain his laugh.
“Happy to have been of service, Colonel,” said Elizabeth, an eyebrow arched. “I hope we did not offend.”
“Oh, I am deeply mortified, madam,” he chuckled, “that I did not conceive it first!” Richard eyed his cousin. “I am fully aware of Mrs. Darcy’s talents, but I did not know you had it in you, sir.”
“Indeed,” said Mary. “It seems my sister has had an effect on you, Brother.”
Darcy lifted his wife’s hand to his lips. “All for the better, I can assure you.” Elizabeth blushed at the gesture. “What are your plans, Richard?” he asked.
“You mean besides attending weddings? Must not neglect Miss Bennet’s, you know. Thank goodness, it is the last one. I am sure Mrs. Bennet is in high spirits.”
Both Bennet sisters laughed, and both of their husbands gave each other a look. “You can very well say she is beside herself, Cousin!” cried Lizzy. “It is a day to which she has long looked forward.”
“‘Five daughters married! Oh, Mr. Bennet, I shall go distracted!’” Mary recited in a fair approximation of her mother’s voice, which sparked renewed laughter around the table.
“Will the earl and countess attend?” asked Darcy when he was able.
“Aye, if it is warmer. The old goat does not take much to traveling in the cold these days, and Hertfordshire is a bit closer to Matlock than London,” said his son with fondness. “Then, after I report to headquarters, it is off to Rosings.”
“In February? ’Tis very early,” replied Darcy.
Since Mr. Darcy’s marriage, it had fallen to Colonel Fitzwilliam to make the pilgrimage to Rosings to both pay court to Lady Catherine and to receive the annual report from the steward, as her ladyship was still not reconciled to Darcy’s choice of wife.
“All is well, I take it?” Darcy continued with a trace of concern in his voice.
With only the slightest of pauses, Richard answered, “Oh yes, nothing to worry about.” But the look in his eye, which his cousin did not fail to mark, gave the lie to his statement.
At that moment, there was a shuffling at the main table, and Mr. Bingley rose to give the farewell toast to the newlyweds.
“Sir John, what are you about? Put me down, sir!” cried Caroline.