Between Lips and Glass
By Joanna
Chapter 1
Posted on Wednesday, 19 January 2000
London slept. In theatres, houses and palaces the lights had long gone off. Only the gas lamps on the streets, in pharmacies and cheap restaurants tickled. A long line of Grosvenor palaces slept as well. From time to time a late carriage drove through the streets or a passer-by walked home from the place of feast: London slept.
Only the palace of Lady Caroline Sautham nee Bingley was awake. Two windows of the first floor lit with a soft light from behind the thick curtains. In this room, in a private boudoir of Lady Caroline no one thought about rest. A beautiful, young, negligee woman with dark curling hair lay on the sofa, smiling with the sweetest of smiles at the young man lying at her feet. A smile rested on his lips as well as he, half-whispering, sang, "Lorelei".
The couple was like an ideal model for a painter; she - thin, yet rounded, with deep brown eyes crowning the beautiful features of her face laughing with the whiteness of her white teeth; he - tall, handsome, strong, proud, dark-haired, admiring the woman with the fire-like gaze of his eyes. There was something outstanding in him, a strange mixture of wants cynicism and cajole. He must have been a very happy, very rich and very fortunate man.
"But you have sent the horses away, Fitz?" the beautiful lady began after a pause .
"But of course."
"I like you for that!"
"For what?"
"For the fact, that you don't show off with me."
The young man laughed.
"I don't take it for a complement. Only upstarts and idiots show off. Do you include me in any of these categories?"
"Hey, hero, it happens to you as well!"
"Can be. But only if I don't care or love the person."
"So you supposedly care and love me?"
"Yes, and you only, now and forever!"
"And yet you would not sacrifice any of those relations where you don't love or care?"
"No, darling. Not a single one!"
"Pff. You are being impertinent."
"Pff. And you are as jealous as a cheap actress." He called playfully, kissing the tips of her fingers.
"You know, that is the end between us. I don't want to be one of many."
"But I patiently am one of many." Replied he.
"You!!! Name one."
"I can, even ten, Caroline! Primo: your husband..."
"Admiral? You're joking! Haven't seen him for two years and if it hadn't been for the portrait in the gallery, I would not have recognised him!"
"Secundo: Ash..."
"Nonsense! I may have laughed a few times."
"Tertio: the cousin from Surrey!"
"You must have had too much to drink for dinner." Laughed she but there was slight indignation in her laughter, she then lowered herself towards him and squeezing a curl of his hair, she purred sweetly:
"But you do love me...and would not leave me for any other!"
"For no one, never, Caroline!" he said automatically without thinking."
"Gentleman's parole, Mr. Darcy?"
"The parole of your Fitz."
"Kiss me for that."
They rested in a passionate embrace whispering sweet words to each other's ears.
"Do you know?" began she, "do you know why I'm so anxious tonight? It's because the whole world is getting married. They are trying to catch you. They spy, set intrigues! Oh, just why must you be so rich, so handsome, such a good marriage offer!"
"I wonder if I would be sitting here, if I were deaf, blind and begged on the corner of the street for instance? Who wants me then?"
"Every maiden, divorcee and married woman. Every father, guardian, mother and aunt! A regiment in one word!"
"I'm all terrified." He called mockingly.
"And nothing more?"
"No!" he stated matter-of-factly.
"Oh, how I love you...adore...will not give anyone, never!" she kissed him ardently.
The clock on the wall struck two waking the couple.
"My dear Caroline, you'll hate me, if I destroy your complexion and give you a headache. Tomorrow, there is a ball at the Somersets! Good night!" said he and kissing her one more time walked out through the hidden door. Already in the gate, he lit a cigar and straightening the sleeves of his coat began walking towards the house.
His palace stood nearby but he didn't want to go bed yet. He turned into a street on his left hand-side. Again, he began singing "Lorelei". Suddenly, he noticed to figures in front of him - a male and a female. He heard an impatient voice and then another - sharp one. The woman started walking faster as if she was trying to run away but the man was persistent.
"Give me a kiss!" he heard the voice of his colleague, a famous ladies man. "There will be no mark left on the lips and if you give me, I'll give you back. Everything is allowed during the night. You won't run away!"
The woman freed herself from the man and noticing Darcy, ran towards him:
"Please, take me home!" she whispered.
Her oppressor tried to follow her when he recognised Darcy.
"Oh, it is you, Fitz. Don't disturb me or better - help me. She's lovely!"
"I will take this lady home because she asked me to. You played your pathetic role already. Go home and sleep out the alcohol!"
"Go to, hell! I want my kiss!" replied the man, and tried to take the lady from Darcy's arm. However Darcy was faster, placing the woman behind himself.
"This battle is lost, Mr. Wickham. Go home and don't try to enrage me or you'll be sorry. The lady will stay under my protection until she wants to be released from it."
"We'll talk swords, Mr. Darcy!"
"At your service. Good bye!" he went past the oppressor and asked the lady about her address. Meanwhile, Mr. Wickham, put his hands into his pockets and laughed:
"So, here it is, Paddy! The blood of your ancestors on the maternal side! I am a true Englishman. I don't like fights!"
Darcy released the lady's hand and walked to Wickham:
"Repeat!"
"I will. You are a Paddy. And I'm not the first one to tell you that."
"And not the first who will reply. My ancestors fought under William the Conqueror's command. I'm as English as the White Cliffs of Dover. Tomorrow! Now go home or I'll forget that we are gentlemen!" He returned to the woman:
"I am sorry. At your service."
The woman watched the whole scene in silence but her face showed that she was sorry for what was being said. Now, her big, black eyes looked sharply at Darcy. There was disgust and anger in them. She bit her lips.
Darcy gave her his arm but she moved away and walked alone.
"What an awful fog! And not a single carriage for hire. I don't dare to offer returning to my house. A carriage would be ready in 5 minutes."
"Thank you. It's already close to where I live."
She spoke German so he began in this language as well.
"Can I help you with what you are carrying?" asked he.
"No, thank you. It's a medicine."
"Someone is ill?"
"Yes."
He looked at her. She was stunningly beautiful. It was a classical beauty, with dark hair, demanding respect. How could Wickham take her for a hooker!? Her voice was deep and almost dark, her eyes pensive, proud lips seemed to smile rarely. Looking at her he felt an urge to wake life in her. Darcy was a well-known and well-trained playboy. Wickham bleached in his memories and he decided that he - Antinous - could try to conquer her. The night was anyway almost over.
"Are you a foreigner?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I suppose, that you don't like the English much."
"No." She replied honestly.
"Do you have any reasons for that? We are the first nation in Europe."
"The first in pride and conceit, that is true."
"No, ma'am. We just have respect for ourselves and demand it. Pride is the mark of strength, energy and mind. We love imperiality because we've achieved it."
"Oh, you love it particularly. We could witness it but a few minutes ago."
"But, you yourself could not stand it, if one said you were...Jewish, say."
"If your mother was Jewish, you should respect Jews, remembering about her."
"I beg to differ. If our mother was a saleswoman, we do not feel obliged to love all of them. My mother was from Ireland, Mead County. My father made this mistake marrying her and now I suffer for that. The Darcy blood was polluted. I don't know the Irish. Have no connections with them and don't want to have any. I despise them." He called with fire in his eyes.
"A man who is ashamed of his ancestry is either weak or a scoundrel." Said she with her teeth clenched.
"You are very severe on a stranger."
"I know you. You possess a palace at Grosvenor, estates in Derbyshire, capitals in the bank. You have two guardians: Major DeBourgh and Aunt Catherine Darcy and many, many hearts of sentimental English girls. You are vain, lazy and proud, famous for your manners, beauty, courage and discretion. Do you recognise yourself from this portrait?"
"Caricature, you wanted to say." Laughed he easily. "My fame must be great, indeed. You are German?"
"No, from the Republic of San Marino." She replied smiling.
"If all ladies from the Republic of San Marino are like yourself, I don not envy your men. They must be like Bayard sans peur ni reproche.
"If I remember correctly, Bayard wasn't unhappy about his situation. And fortunately our citizens are nothing like the English. We have every respect for them."
"It must be a glacial respect."
"Depends on your liking. Our wives do not invite young masters to their boudoirs, our maidens do not carry their hearts on their hands and lips, and our mothers do not sell their daughters on the Vanity Fair. We are loved more than your Fraulein and Madame.
"A tough work it must be to conquer them."
"Our men are used to it."
"Congratulations but I do not envy. I don't like tough things."
"I told you, you were lazy. Our hearts are not for the English knights of King William. You and us...are two different worlds. Here it comes to an end. Thank you for the help." She stopped in front of a house.
"Don't you pay for services in San Marino?"
"If need is. I can give you courier fare."
"It is too much. It's not about the fare but about my life which I'll put at stake for you."
"For me? A quarrel about a woman, you would sink in a glass of champagne tomorrow. You'll be fighting for your English honour that can't stand the shame of a marriage with an Irish or Jew brought upon you. For this, I do not pay!"
"I will have two duels, if am not dead. I do not sink quarrels in champagne. So the first is for you to pay. At least that I would know, what I am fighting for."
"For instance?"
"Oh nothing! Souvenir...a kiss..."
She moved backwards and blushed but then stepped forward and with pride in her voice replied:
"For this nothing, you wouldn't be able to pay with all your millions. We do not sell kisses. We give them free or at all."
"And to get them...?"
"One must be a citizen of the Republic of San Marino and a noble man, then one can propose."
"So it is unreachable for me?"
"Yes. If you take offence when someone says that you are an Englishman, before such a duel, I'll pay you!"
Darcy bowed deeply.
"You are joking. I had many a stupid duel in my life. This will be just another one but at least I'll know I'll be fighting for a very beautiful, accomplished and ...aloof lady."
"Thank you for the complement and farewell."
"I thank you as well. For your moral teaching and till we meet again."
"If you can find me, I doubt about it. San Marino is far away and you are lazy."
"I can find you in a week."
"The bet is accepted. Good bye." She disappeared into the gate.
Darcy smiled and blew her a kiss. "Stunning girl! Caroline is better shaped, Lydia is more cunning but she's got that something. Splendid girl!" He walked faster and the dark shape of the Darcy Mansion appeared in no time. He turned the key in the small gate and walked inside. A middle-aged butler was napping on the chair.
"James, get me some brandy." He called
"Right away, sir."
"And give me paper and ink." First signs of dawn broke through the window. Darcy looked terribly tired. He wrote two cards hastily and called: "Send these letters at once. Get the pistols and swords. I have a duel. Breathe no word about it. And don't wake me up, unless these gentlemen come. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Darcy undressed and threw himself into the bed. Away went beautiful ladies, duels, and English honour. He would not exchange this rest for anything, even Lady Caroline's embrace.
Chapter 2
Posted on Thursday, 20 January 2000
I forgot to put a disclaimer with the first chapter. This is a P&P crossover story with a Polish novel from the beginning of the 20th century."
Fitz Darcy had been the master of himself since early childhood. His father had given him guardians, an old friend - Major DeBourgh and Aunt Catherine Darcy, but what a poor guardians they were. It was amazing indeed that his fortune did not disappear (it was probably only because it was so enormous) and that the young man did not become totally worthless.
Major DeBourgh and Aunt Cathie met from time to time and talked about their young Fitz, prayed and left without constructive decisions: major to his estate in Derbyshire and the good Aunt to her prayers. Fitz cared about them about as much as about the ash from his cigar. His family status directed him among the young aristocrats, who soon became his friends. Apollo like figure and manners made him favourite with ladies who spoiled him to the bone. He was never a child, and young were he but a few months. He went to schools, managed to finish university, due to the talent - not hard work, he then joined the army, fought away from his country but always for it, he brought a medal with him, a couple of scares and a decision that he didn't want to be an army man. He didn't look for a career or privileges, he had them and work wasn't what he considered worth him. He was a cosmopolite, full of words and forms but behind this facade was a cynic without scruples who despised the world and everything in it, proud of his charm and magnetism. He belonged to clubs, had friends, as many as the capital could offer and every woman loved him.
He was happy with his fortune.
Major DeBourgh and Aunt Cathie were but a 'boring mixture' for him. He showed them respect and listened to their advises and persuasions, asked the Major about sheep and wines, for his dear Aunt always had sweets and paid enormous sums for her church charities. The Major easily accepted his tricks but the Aunt was a bit tougher to convince as she lived in London and heard many things about his night escapades. Her religious heart could not stand his behaviour but as she had little power over him, she limited herself to passing his rooms without a word but the expression of her face showed she felt she was passing the door of hell. Her power over the 'boy' as she called him, melted in his presence as he always charmed her with his smile. Anyway Darcy in his 'active' life had but little time to spend with his Aunt. His presence in her apartments was a rarity, therefore, when James brought news that the young master invites himself to breakfast, she swiftly ordered best cakes and rolls to be served. She could not have known that it was the duel that brought Fitz to her. James was taking care of the weapons, and Fitz felt obligated to say good bye to his Aunt, just in case. When he was about to leave for his Aunts, Fitz called to James:
"Go to Gracechurch Street number 10, near the square, take the list of the inhabitants and ask about the young lady who left for the town last night. Do you understand? Get the horses ready and give this letter to Richard Fitzwiliam. If anyone comes, you will come directly to my Aunt's. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." Replied the butler shaking his head.
The duel was set for the afternoon in a forest just outside the city. He had time enough for breakfast and a few visits.
Aunt Cathie met her prodigious nephew in her drawing room. He placed a letter on the table.
"It's from Major. I recognise the hand. He wrote me one as well. I find your correspondence very strange."
"We write about you, lad!" called Aunt Cathie. "Please help yourself with the cakes."
"What is this embroidery?"
"It's for your wedding."
"My wedding? Why such haste! I have no intention of marrying."
Miss Catherine Darcy sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling.
"My dear Aunt there is no need for sighing. I cannot marry."
"Why, on earth not?"
"Every respectable man should avoid contacts with women."
"Yes...there are sins..."
"Arising from such contacts. Yes, I have heard. And I do not want to have sinful contacts. I do not want to court, I do not want to propose, because it leads to holding hands, looks and kisses. Ergo I'm scared to marry because it's...immoral!"
The expression of his face suggested disgust and sarcasm.
"By God!" whined Aunt Catherine.
"Instead of sighing, Aunt should read Major's letter. It's not worth thinking about marriage as my to duel in a few hours."
"A duel? You fight every month. What will become of you?"
"Nothing! I'm not a sheep to be slaughtered. Can I smoke?"
She replied in silence, weeping.
Darcy shook his head.
"These are women, and you want me to bring another. One, sobbing after a nephew, the other after her husband. Horrible!" exclaimed he.
"Do you take me for a naive. You place your only life at stake! I know everything. You are fighting for one of them. Curse on them!" called Miss Cathie.
"By God, you are a true Torquemada, Aunt!" laughed Fitz.
"You will die, if you don't stop, if you don't marry, if you don't start to look after your home! Terrible! They'll kill you!" sobbed she
"My dear Aunt, I can't die for nothing. I thought you'll support me and all I can see is tears."
Aunt Catherine looked at him in dismay.
"I'm not fighting for a lady. I'm fighting for my English honour. George Wickham called me a Paddy. I'll turn him into ashes!"
"When your Father, reste in pacem, decided to marry that Irish woman, I begged him not to do it, on my knees. But it's a wild country. There are witches there, they use magic and your Father, reste in pacem, fell under that spell. They gave him a potion there. Of that I am sure. The devil possessed your Father, reste im pacem, and Major DeBourgh always says: No one trusts Fitz. They are afraid that he is Irish. If you married the daughter of Duke M_____, the distrust would have disappeared!"
"I'm not afraid of Irish spells and witchcraft! I am not going to follow my father's path. Of that you can be sure, Aunt."
"The duel is to be for sure?"
"We are no cowards!"
At that moment James came into the room:
"The carriage is ready." He said.
"Are you going already?"
"Good bye, Aunt."
"I will be praying for you!"
"Mr. Richard Fitzwiliam is waiting for you, sir." Said James when they walked out of Miss Catherine's chambers.
"What about the house?"
"I went her. The house has two entrances on two different streets. The concierge was asleep all night, didn't see a thing. This is the list of inhabitants."
"Damn it!" called Darcy, "Take the swords and go the train station, buy two tickets to Royal Oaks.
Richard Fitzwilliam, a friend of Fitz came mostly surprised by the urgent call.
"I suppose you have a duel?" he asked as soon as Darcy entered the room.
"Lucky guess?"
"What about?"
"Irish blood, does it ring a bell?"
"With whom?"
"Wickham."
"Nonsense! George was probably drunk, and everyone knows you are first for a duel. Why did you not ask me to go with you?"
"You, the diplomat? The Lord Chancellor would have you strangled for it. But that duel...it's as if I was fighting a wardrobe!"
Richard shook his head.
"Don't you think you have too many duels? If I were you, I would invade Ireland, for the sake of them shutting their big mouths." Mocked Fitzwilliam.
"Ah, go to the devil."
"Then enter the service."
"What service?"
"Diplomacy, for instance! You are made for it!"
"Says who?"
"There was talk yesterday at the Club. Lord C____ said: An ambassador should always be a lover. He who knows all about gallantry and love, he, will make a great ambassador. And Ash goes like: Then let's send Fitz Darcy to Russia and all the problems will be gone."
"I suppose, he would want to remove me from London." said Darcy
"Ash wouldn't mind your removing from a certain palace in London."
"You know him, he likes only things touched by someone else first." Joked Darcy. "But to the point, I've asked you to come because I wanted to ask something of you. In case of a...catastrophe, please destroy all letters that you find in this desk."
"Don't worry, neither you nor your...souvenirs won't die."
"I must be going."
"Go, I'll greet you as a winner later on. At the opera, tonight."
"So long, my friend." Called Darcy.
"See you soon."
"Fitz, my dear, how good to see you." Called Lady Caroline, when Darcy entered her box in the opera that evening. Wickham was being tended to by the doctors and Fitz walked around proudly.
"I've heard you had a duel today." Continued Caroline.
"Indeed, a minor affair."
"But you do know, that you will not fight them all. You'd better stop showing off with your Englishhood and they'll forget about your ancestors."
This was probably the only wise thing lady Caroline had ever said but the young master was indifferent to her remark.
"I'll tell you something nice, Mister Nice-Face-Seeker. The box in front of ours. What wonderful opals is she wearing! Do you know her by chance?"
Fitz looked in the direction and almost jumped when he recognised the beautiful stranger in person. His behaviour did not Lady Caroline's notice.
"Ah, comme tu prends feu! C'est une coup de foudre!" she mocked
"You didn't notice before?" he said ironically.
"You, monstre!!!! O you know the lady?"
"She's from San Marino."
"Where is that? Some province or Italy?"
"I guess." He stared in the direction of the lady. She was seated with two other gentlemen. One, elderly, the other, young, with blonde curling hair and a sparkle of fun in his eyes. Lady Caroline noticed what was going on and kicking his leg slightly said:
"You are terrible, Fitz. Bring me some sweets, or better no. You'll go to her. You will stay here and accompany me all the time!"
"Caroline!" He called as if offended.
"How did you meet her? Who is she?"
"A citizen of the Republic of San Marino."
"Oh, stop with that San Marino of yours! She is Irish, I can see the features. She resembles you." It was a master trick from Lady Caroline as she was sure he would not look at the young lady again.
Indeed, Darcy did not look at her but others had seen her already.
"She must be German!" called Ash
"It doesn't matter where she is from but she is royal! Priceless! Said Richard.
"She'll be mine in 6 months." Stated Ash.
"No! She'll be mine and I bet my Fingal on that." Replied Darcy
"And I bet my four horses against your Fingal Darcy and your Mefisto, Ash that she won't be yours."
"How do you know?" asked Ash
"Look into her eyes and you'll know too. I'm going to Lady Caroline." Called Richard
After the play Darcy with Ash met on the way to the carriages which were to take them to the Somersets.
"Have you seen where did she go?" asked Darcy.
"No. I was busy. I wasn't paying much attention."
"Nor did I." Replied Darcy.
They were both lying. They were observing her intently but she disappeared in the crowd. The ball lasted till the wee small hours of the morning.
Chapter 3
Posted on Friday, 21 January 2000
The summer took everyone from London to various resorts. Darcy, having said farewell to Ash and Richard who were to visit their estates, decided to entertain himself in Ramsgate. This particular choice was understood in London society but no one had dared to voice it, as no one would have liked being a gossip object himself. A certain lady was supposed to visit Ramsgate and her name was Lady Caroline Sautham. Her husband, the Admiral, was still at sea, and his wife had no intention of being bored in Town.
It was a sunny afternoon in Ramsgate and Darcy with Lady Caroline had been walking the pier.
"I find our stay most marvellous." Called Lady Caroline.
"It would have been better if you didn't bring that maid of yours."
"Why on earth not?"
"Because all my James is doing is making sweet eyes to her." Lady Caroline looked in the direction of the two servants and wanted to say something but Darcy was no longer with her. He was following some lady.
It seemed to him that he saw her, the lady in opals from the opera. It was her size, her hair, and her figure. Darcy dashed in her direction and jumped in front of her, he realised it wasn't her.
"You will excuse me, ma'am." He said slightly bowing. She smiled and rising her eyebrow walked away.
Meanwhile James was talking to Nina, Lady Caroline's maid.
"Do you like your stay here?" asked she.
"I do, but it would be better if my master wasn't so anxious. I don't know what's got into him."
"It must be his stomach." Declared the girl.
"His stomach?" asked James incredulously.
"Yes, my mother always said that when a man is anxious, it's because of his stomach." James didn't look convinced. At that moment Darcy came running and threw himself on the beach chair. He looked as if he was having cramps.
"Sir?" asked James.
"My stomach." Whined Darcy.
James looked at him strangely.
"Bring me something."
Lady Caroline approached them: "Fitz..." she began.
"James, something, bring me something to ease the pain." Moaned Darcy
"Yes, sir at once." Called the butler and ran in the direction of the Town. When he was about 500 feet away, Darcy called after him:
"James, come back. I'm feeling much better now. I believe we should go to the hotel. We are leaving tomorrow.
"Where have you been?" with these words Ash and Richard greeted Darcy as he came into one of their favourite clubs. "One could conquer the whole of Europe during this time!" called Ash.
"Or see the whole country. Write a book!" continued Richard.
"Some say, you've got married! That you've died even!"
"Lydia, will..."
"What?" asked Darcy anxiously.
"Stop talking to you!"
"Why didn't you come hunting?" demanded Richard.
"I found the invitation this afternoon on my desk."
"Where have you been?"
"In Derbyshire. Almost got married."
"To whom?" exclaimed Ash.
"Anne DeBourgh, I suppose." Said Richard.
"No one other, but I've managed to escape."
"Some say you've been to Ramsgate."
"Yes." Replied he vaguely.
"Is that where you've met Mrs. Admiral Sauham?"
"Totally by chance!"
"We want to believe, honestly! And do you know what happened to your Fingal?" asked Richard.
"My man has told me. 2500 pounds award, not bad!" replied Darcy.
"But Ash claims the horse is already his."
"How come?"
"He met the beautiful lady from the opera."
"Where? How? Ash?"
"In Bath."
"Bath, you were there?"
"Yes, I accompanied Lady..."
"Doesn't matter whom you accompanied. So the lady was in Bath? Is she Italian?
"No! Irish!"
"Reaally?"
"Of course, I've checked."
"Common, the details. Irish or German, deliciously pretty! Have you won the bet? Did you concur her heart?" demanded Richard.
"Not so fast. You demand too much!"
"Did you get a kiss?"
"No, that far..."
"Held her hand, got a glance, a promise?
"No."
"Then what's that talk about winning the bet?"
"Because I'm on my way to it. I found her, I know her name and I know where she lives and I sent her flowers..."
"And she accepted?"
"No, sent back..."
"A peculiar method of winning bets!" laughed Richard. "I take your Fingal and your Mesfisto!"
"Slow down, Richard. The time is not up yet. Let Ash tell us what he knows." replied Darcy, who by now was no longer angry that Ash found the lady. After all, the bet was still on.
"You've already heard." Mocked Fitzwilliam.
"I've got a photo."
"Show!" called everyone.
Ash took out a picture of the beautiful girl with proud lips and serious dark eyes.
"Admit you bought it at the photo shop." Said Richard.
"Yes, but I could not have asked because..."
"You did not hear her voice."
"She talked to her companion." Retorted Ash.
"So there was an escort as well."
"Yes. Old awful matron in deep mourning. The girl was wearing crepe as well. I went after them like a shadow. And maybe, I would finally find the opportunity but the Irish they are like a clan. If it hadn't been for..."
"The impertinence, she greeted you with?"
"No. At the end of the summer, some guy arrived and would not leave them for a moment."
"A fiancé?" asked Darcy.
"No, they called him by his Christian name. A relation of some sort."
"So you had a duel with him?" asked Richard.
"No! Had no reason. I gave up and came back. But I have a plan."
"Spit it out!" called Richard, definitely enjoying the situation.
Darcy felt ashamed. Ash was more cunning then himself.
"I go to Ireland, buy an estate and begin courting. I can even marry."
"If they accept you."
"Me?"
"If I were a girl, I would have without two words." Replied Richard
"And who would want to propose to you?"
"Am I not pretty or well-bred?"
"Lovely!" laughed Darcy. "And what's the name of this beautiful Irish girl?"
"Eliza."
"They must all be Elizas." Murmured Darcy
"You know more of them?"
"My mother's name was Eliza."
"But the surname is mad. O'Ghrainne, I guess." Continued Ash.
"What?" called Darcy.
"O'Ghrainne."
"And the young man who was with her is also O'Ghrainne?"
"I guess so?"
"Sean?"
"How am I to know?" replied Ash.
"Bl***y h***!" exclaimed Darcy and biding them farewell ran out of the club.
"To Mr. Graham!" he called breathlessly as he got into his carriage.
The horses ran as fast as they could. The street lamps tickled as they passed.
"Is Mr. Graham home?" he asked the butler as he entered the house of his steward.
"I guess." Darcy looked tired. It was the first time he was ever here. He usually saw his steward in his own house.
"Sir!" exclaimed Mr. Graham. "Is anything the matter?"
"Where are the letters that you took this afternoon?"
"In my drawer." Replied Mr. Graham.
"Show me the one from Ireland with a strange signature."
"Of course, please come to my study, sir. This is my wife, Mr. Darcy. Cait, where are Mr. Darcy's letters?"
The woman gave him a packet and bowing walked out. He looked through them and gave Darcy the letter.
It was addressed to Darcy Mansion, London and said in a rather strange English:
Sir,
I am writing in the name of Mrs. Maire O'Garraier in the following business. After the death of Mr. Jack O'Garraier this May, a certain legal formalities are necessary. For those we need official confirmation of the death of Mrs. Eliza O'Garraier Darcy of which sending I ask you now. I enclose 10 pounds for all necessary fees and hope that you will not refuse our plea.
Yours,
Sean O'Ghrainne
Ghramochroi Estate
Mead County
Ireland.
Darcy wiped his eyes and repeated:
"O'Ghrainne! O'Ghrainne!" he looked at Graham and said: "But you did not reply yet?"
"I did."
"Man! What have you written?"
"Only what, you have ordered, sir. That you don't have the time to look for old documents and that mother's papers are long gone."
"Are you mad!?"
"I, by no means."
"And the letter was sent?"
"About an hour ago."
"Bl***y h***" cursed Darcy
"We must call it back."
"The post doesn't give letters back." Remarked Mr. Graham.
"It must." Called Darcy, leaving his steward's house.
Three hours later as he was let out of the police custody after paying a fine of 50 pounds, Darcy was holding Graham's letter. As soon as he reached his house, he ordered James to pack the bags and book a ferry to Ireland as well as find his mother's death confirmation document.
His carriage was leaving London in the early morning. Darcy's thoughts were too occupied and he did not even look into Lady Caroline's windows as they were passing her house. But then Darcy was in no mood to see the Admiral who had just come back from the high seas.
Chapter 4
Posted on Saturday, 22 January 2000
All the names are of my own creation. I hope that you will give me a licencia poetica for the historical background of the story and the fact that English is not know to the Irish people. Joanna
Using a map, Darcy found the village of Ghroiae, which neighboured with Ghramochroi Estate. It was a big village about 10 miles from the railroad track. It had a post office, telegraph, doctor, pharmacy, school and an inn.
In that inn Darcy and James decided to pass a night before setting off to Ghramochroi. It was a rainy and cold evening when their carriage reached the destination. Darcy swore to the devil the weather, the country and everything that was in view. England was left far behind and little did the country resemble the surroundings Darcy was used to. The land seemed lonely.
People spoke hardly any English and when they did, it was such a mixture of the English and Irish that it was hardly understandable for someone not used to it.
The innkeeper met Darcy all in bows and spoke something that resembled a dialect a cow uses when spokes Spanish. It was neither Irish nor English. Darcy told James to order a good supper and retired to the best room the innkeeper had on offer.
The next morning, Darcy woke up with the almost with the sun.
"James!"
The door opened and James appeared carrying a tray consisting of coffee, milk, toast and fresh marmalade.
"So?" asked Darcy, "have you learnt anything, I might want to know?"
"Ghramochroi Estate, owned by Mrs. Maire O'Garraier. It's about 10 miles to the west."
"So you've learnt nothing new. Do you have the horses ready?"
"Yes, sir. You can leave any time."
"Good. I'll dress now."
Darcy was dressing as if he was going to a ball at St. James's. He picked out everything very carefully as any elegant only could.
"Does Mrs. O'Garraier live alone?"
"After the death of her husband, she invited Miss O'Ghrainne to live with her and Miss O'Ghrainne's brother, manages the estate."
"What do people say about the all?" inquired Darcy.
"That they hate English and won't let them into the house. The old lady doesn't receive anyone."
"Give me the perfume. And what do they say about the young lady?"
"She is said to be very proud. She's engaged to Mr. Column O'Column of Alainncabaire."
"You have incredible memory James. You can break your tongue trying to pronounce those names! I'm ready, we are leaving in half an hour."
The country seemed calm and untouched by the human race. In certain distance Darcy could see the ruins of some old castle destroyed probably by the English at some time in the history. The greens mixed with the autumn yellows and created a mixture of colours playing on the imagination of the viewer. The land emanated with opposition, moral strength and pride. It could almost be felt.
Four hours later, Darcy was descending from the carriage on the yard of the Ghramochroi manor. While opening the carriage door, the footman said:
"The young master from Leaghchroi is here." Darcy looked in the direction of the gig. There was the same young man, he saw at the opera.
A servant met Darcy at the door.
"Does the lady of the house receive? This is my card." Stated Darcy firmly.
The servant shrugged: "You don't speak Irish, sir?"
Darcy stood understanding nothing.
"Come with I...the lady...not want talk...this not understand." Said the man in horrible English.
"Maybe, you'll look at my card." Demanded Darcy
"No sense. Even if the card to heaven, the lady not receive. Master Sean speak English. I take you, sir."
They walked through the yard towards the gig of the young master. Two big hunting dogs met Darcy with barking.
"Stop it." Said the young man to the dogs. "What is it, Pat?" he turned to the manservant.
"I brought an English."
Sean looked up, took off the hat, kicked the dogs and greeted the guest in pretty good English.
"How can I help you?"
"In fact, I came to see Mrs. O'Garraier and I believe she would receive me if she was shown my card. However as I can see, this custom has not yet reached this part of the world."
"We are aware of this custom but Mrs. O'Garraier doesn't know English and I doubt she would receive you, sir. With whom do I have a pleasure?"
"I'm Mrs. O'Garraier's grandson. Fitz Darcy."
"Sean O'Ghrainne, her neighbour."
They acknowledged each other. Sean led him to his study and offered a chair. They sat opposite each other. A young assembly hall elegant, touched by the metropolitan glory and a young Irish from the countryside. There was silence between them. But Darcy was first to speak:
"I'm very sorry that my mother's family did not notify me of my Grandfather's demise. Although I'm almost strange, I would visit my Grandmother in such a terrible hour. I have just learnt from your letter about it and rushed here. I hope that my Grandmother will understand my reasons and allow me a few minutes of talk with her, even if I'm English. We can speak German or French if she prefers."
"I will convey to her your words."
"Thank you." Replied Darcy.
The young Irish left and returned in a few minutes.
"Mrs. O'Garraier allows you to come. She desires the conversation be only in French."
It was as if an audience at court. Darcy shook his head but the hope of seeing O'Ghrainne's beautiful sister gave him strength.
He was led into a drawing room. Two candles gave light to it. The table was covered with a thick cloth. There were two women in the room one sewing, the other reading a book aloud. She stopped when she heard the door open and noticed Darcy standing in the doorway.
The small elderly lady looked up as well.
"Will you not stop today? Who is it now?" asked she.
"It is I, grandma. I brought Mr. Darcy with me." Replied Sean.
"So come in and close the door. Maybe the gentleman will approach and say good afternoon all by himself."
She did not get up, only acknowledged the deep bow of the young man. He bowed to the young lady as well.
"Mr. Fitz Darcy, my sister." Introduced then Sean.
Eliza slightly moved her head in acknowledgement.
"I do not speak English. But you speak French, I understand." Said the old lady.
"Of course." Replied he bowing again.
The intelligent eyes of Mrs. O'Garraier looked at Darcy. The latter felt uneasy and strange. He wasn't sure how to behave. He thought that everyone here in Ireland will be honoured by his visit but it all seemed not quite so. The lady gestured him to sit down and began sewing again. He seated himself next to the sister and as no one seemed to pay much attention to him he decided to attack:
"I was just telling..." he looked in the direction of Sean, "...Mr. O'Grain, how sorry I m the I was not told of..."
"What? How did you pronounce the name? Are you doing it on purpose? To be joking of the name!"
Darcy reddened not knowing what to do next, whether to stay or to go.
"Grandma, you forget that Mr. Darcy pronounces an Irish name for the first time in his life. And ours is difficult enough." Tried to amend things Eliza, lifting her head from the book, which she was reading mechanically.
"Oh, I know these arrogants! When his father came here for the first time, he was all sweetness and goodness. All his promises were worth nothing. He was to bring my Eliza every year for a visit but instead he kidnapped her and took to his castle in Derbyshire. Where she died! My daughter died alone among her foes! They would even let us know of her death."
"There is no my fault in that. I was but three days old."
"You would have done the same." Retorted she. "I know you. You are all the same! I should have never allowed her to make such a misalliance."
Darcy was speechless. A misalliance? That girl made a misalliance by marrying his father! That was unthinkable! Am I dreaming? he thought.
Suddenly there was rage within him that could not have been stopped from exploding:
"I did not come here to listen to criticism of my nation or that of my father! I do not remember either my mother or my father, and as for misalliances, I am of different opinion. And I have nothing but good intentions towards the Irish."
"Oh, I know you. You, English, you want to subdue us. To bring ruin upon us!"
She stopped. For some unknown reason she looked down and two tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Grandma, Mr. Darcy is under our roof..." began Sean.
"I have a right to say the truth. Let him listen!"
"I've listened long enough, ma'am. I know that you are full of sorrow and grief therefore I don't want quarrels. " Darcy's voice sounded strangely. "However, I did not expect such a welcome. I may be English but I did not come here as a foe. Maybe it's too late but I would like to know the country of my mother. I believe I shall bid you farewell, now." He got up. Sean left to see whether the horses were ready. Darcy wanted to hear the young lady's voice but there was no way to begin a conversation. To his relief she spoke first:
"Are you always in London?"
"I was absent all summer. I visited Ramsgate."
"Oh, yes, Mrs. O'Brien told us about it."
He blushed.
"She met you there."
His blush deepened as he and Lady Caroline pretended to be husband and wife there.
In a few moments Sean appeared and Darcy took his leave. It was raining terribly. When he and Sean found themselves in the hall, Sean said:
"Will you not stay? It's raining so terribly."
"Are you not afraid of keeping an English in the house?" asked Darcy.
"I would have a horrible day tomorrow if I had not kept you overnight. Grandma, would be truly mad at me." Laughed Sean. "I can hear her say: where did your hospitality go? You spent too much time with the English! You are just like the English!"
Darcy joined in laughter. He would have never suspected such an end to the affair.
They went to Sean's study and sat in front of the fire. It was already almost dark. Mrs. Maire wasn't good Aunt Cathie who could be smoothed with a smile and gallantry. Sean wasn't a man whom you could meeting in a London club and the young lady was like no one else in the world. Let Rich have Fingal. I'm out of it. thought Darcy staring into the fire.
"Why are you so serious?" asked Sean
"For the weather."
"It's going for the better. The potatoes are still in the ground. And it's high time for them."
"You lease Ghramochroi?" asked Darcy.
"No, just administrating. I live in my Leaghchroi. Across the road. Mr. O'Garraier was our guardian after my father's premature death. Mrs. O'Garraier brought up my sister and now after Mr. O'Garraier's death we spend a lot of time here. I come every day."
"You are not married?" asked Darcy
Sean laughed so warmly that the atmosphere began to improve.
"Do I look that old?" asked he.
"You all look serious here." Sean wasn't happy with the answer.
"Do you often come to London?" asked Darcy to change the subject.
"No. The last time we were still with Mr. O'Garraier. He died there of heart attack."
"I'm sorry."
"We weren't expecting to come back with a coffin. We were at the opera. I guess I have seen you there."
"Yes. Your sister picked my attention." Admitted Darcy. "Had I known, he was my Grandfather...I left London the next day."
"He was dead the next day. And Mrs. Maire was left alone in the world. With no relation."
"I wish I could be someone for her." Replied Darcy and he sounded honest.
"It's still a long time till dawn." Smiled the young man. And Darcy knew there was a promise in these words. More to say he knew he had a friend in the camp of the foes.
Chapter 5
Posted on Sunday, 30 January 2000
Darcy woke up the next morning. There was sun, shining. He looked out of the window on the green fields of Ireland. He returned to bed and stretched comfortably. He slept like a little child that night. Suddenly James appeared in the door carrying a try with breakfast.
"Good morning, sir. You cannot imagine, sir, what wonderful delicacies they serve here. Those creams, cheeses and fresh bread!" he placed the tray on Darcy's lap.
His master took of the cover but there were no cheeses, no creams, just two toasts and marmalade. Darcy laughed:
"I guess only the servants get such delicacies here."
James grinned sheepishly.
Soon after Darcy got dressed, Sean burst into his room.
"Can you imagine? Grandma told me off that I allowed you to go last evening."
"But I am here!"
"She wouldn't let me explain. She told me, I was ill mannered. That I've spent too much time with the English and acquired their bad manners. That I let the dog sleep in the room and allowed the guest to leave in such weather."
"But you have explained then?" asked Darcy.
"Yes."
"And what did she say?"
"Nothing. She turned her back on me and began correcting one of the maids. Would you like another visit?"
"Yes, if it is possible."
"I will go and advise with Lizzy. She can help you."
"Is your sister omnipotent with the lady?"
"Lizzy! She is always silent, doesn't look people in the eyes out of shyness bur she can manipulate them as she pleases!"
"She manipulates you as well?" asked Darcy
"Of course, I must confess. That's the custom here. Women set the tone - no matter if she's a mother, sister or wife. But then Eliza is wiser than myself, so I don't mind."
"If I listened to the advises of our ladies, I would end up in Bedlam in a week's time. Our ladies prefer to be led, cared for and loved. It's much easier!"
"If you want my advice, don't repeat it in company of Grandma."
"Or Miss Eliza?"
"Oh Lizzy, would laugh at you but Grandma would have you out of the house in seconds!" laughed Sean.
"Thank you and I hope the negotiations will go well. I wouldn't like to leave in quarrel."
Sean left and Darcy sat in the open window inhaling the fresh air, waiting for the negotiations come to an end.
Finally Sean returned:
"Ready. Grandma is waiting for you in the garden."
As they walked out of the house, a group of children ran out of from the house. With them walked out Miss Eliza, talking to two blonde girls. The young men approached Lizzy.
"Do you have a school here?"
"These are children of household staff and a few others. I teach them religion, history and some algebra."
"But what must we pay for that school!" whined Sean.
She looked at him with criticism in her eyes and he called:
"I'm saying not a word more. You know I pay without complain."
"Do you like children?" asked Darcy.
"I do." She replied, apparently not liking to talk about herself. "Take, Mr. Darcy to Grandmother, Sean."
"And what will you be doing?"
"I must change before lunch."
"Oh, I forgot you are waiting for your darling Column." He teased her.
Her face nerves rested unmoved:
"You know that I always change." They spoke French for the benefit of the guest but now Sean changed to English: "To be perfectly honest, I prefer to be her brother rather than fiancé. I do not envy my future brother-in-law's lot. But at least he is patient!"
"Your sister is engaged?"
"Yes, though I do not know why. She is engaged to our neighbour Column O'Column." Sean just shook his head.
"When is the wedding?"
"I don't know. We are in mourning now. Grandma doesn't want to hear about a wedding. Lizzy is silent and no one asks Column about his opinion they can go forever like that."
"I thought that in Ireland they marry for love only ." Smiled Darcy.
"Who knows! Maybe they are in love, but knowing Lizzy , I think it's more out of duty and patriotism."
"So the gentleman is...?"
"Oh, he is bankrupt. Lizzy doesn't want to give up Irish land into some unknown hands so she wants to save it with her dowry. In my opinion a problematic happiness. Here is Grandma."
Maire smiled at Sean and kissed his forehead then acknowledged Darcy's presence. Darcy bowed deeply and kissed her hand.
"I wanted to say goodbye. I could not leave without it. Maybe, I could make amends with..."
"If this is your only business here, leave. I will allow you to stay here if you don't say that word. You know which?"
"English."
"You may leave."
"Fitz and I have spoken and not once nationality was mentioned." Ventured Sean.
"You just stop coming up with examples! I will see you at lunch."
Darcy bowed smiling noticing that Lizzy was standing behind the tree. If only there was no conversation in London. What a stupid thing to say such things to a stranger!
"Fitz, do you want to see the horses before lunch?"
"Yes." Replied Darcy and Sean led him towards the stables. Leaving Darcy outside the stable he went inside to fetch his favourite stud.
"He's beautiful!" called Darcy as soon as he saw the animal. It was indeed a majestic horse, his legs perfectly curved, his back strong and deep eyes. "What's his name?"
"Diarmuid. I borrowed it from O Dalaigh."
"Borrowed! Why not buy? I know, I'll buy it!" cried Darcy.
Sean was laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"You! O Dalaigh is a poet - O Dalaigh Fionn."
"Oh God! I made an idiot of myself." Called Darcy.
"Diarmuid is a name you find in one of his poems. It's titled Inis Dhún Rámha." Said Sean.
"Please, don't tell about it in front of Miss Eliza and Grandma."
"I won't."
"Thank you."
They walked towards the house. In from of it there was a gig standing.
"Oh, Column is here already. Lunch will be served soon."
They went inside. A man in his early thirties stood up to greet them. Darcy felt an immediate antipathy towards him.
"How are the potatoes?" asked Sean.
"Not bad." Replied Column.
"And crops?"
"Keep going."
God, they are just the same - Eliza and Coulmn.
"And your Norma?"
"Cathal O'Lucas was bargaining for it."
"Did you sell?"
"Not yet but I will."
"I thought Lizzy wanted to buy it."
"Yes but she wants it no more, at least she said so."
"She said? A miracle indeed!" Joked Sean.
During lunch the fiancés sat together but talked neither with each other nor anyone else in the room. James was sent to gather Darcy's things. Eliza got up and walked out of the room, Darcy excused himself under pretence that he had to go to his room to fetch something and followed Lizzy.
"In San Marino, they forget acquaintances and promises." He said catching up with her.
"Promises?"
"I believe I won a bet."
"Maybe, I don't remember."
"I betted that I'll find you. And I did."
She didn't reply.
"And my reward?"
"I didn't promise any reward. The fact of finding me should be enough."
"And if it's not enough?"
"It must be enough."
"Must is a strange word to Fitz Darcy."
"I know but Fitz Darcy is not always the lion. He can hide with his principles, be a comedian but cannot face up to one old lady."
"I agreed to everything just to have the opportunity of speaking with you."
"This is cheap! How can you deceive your own Grandmother."
"Don't you think one could change?"
"Do you think that you could cheat me?"
"Have I offended you...?"
"Me? You? No, I can only be offended by someone I care for."
He looked into those dark eyes sparkling in anger - he had what he wanted - she was stunning!
He pulled her towards himself and whispered hoarsely millimetres from her lips:
"And I say that you must care for me! And you will! You'll either love me or hate me, just as I am."
"For love and hate no one can guarantee. Neither you nor I! I cannot promise that I will mot love or hate and English, a scoundrel, a playboy a lady's man. I can not state it but an Irish maiden begins with respect!" said she breaking away from him.
"It's not a defeat yet!" he called
"You don't know many things, Mr. Darcy. I am engaged."
"Many things can happen before the lips meet the glass."
"Apply that to yourself."
"I prefer to apply it to Mr. O'Column." Replied he.
"As you wish. You will excuse me. My patience is at its ends."
"But mine is not!"
She left Darcy on the stairs where Sean found him some minutes later.
"Maybe if my father kept his promises, it would all be different, better." Said Darcy seeing Sean.
"There is no point in blaming parents. Come for tea."
Maire kept Darcy a week more in Ghramochroi. As soon as Darcy returned to London, he told James to take Fingal to Richard Fitzwilliam.
I may have lost this battle and this bet but the war is not over yet. She'll be mine as God is my witness! he smiled to himself.
I know that O Dalaigh Fionn was not the author of this poem but as it's anonymous and I needed an author for the story, I used artistic license, again!
Chapter 6
Posted on Wednesday, 23 February 2000
Editor's Note: This chapter's a bit racier than usual. ;)
A small pub had unbeknownst to itself hosted a grand person that evening - a Mr. Fitz Darcy. He was accompanied by a lady in her late twenties. She was shapely and well rounded, and her smile was pure sweetness.
"So you see, my dear Cait. I can call you that way, can't I?"
"Of course, sir." She purred sweetly.
"But you must call me Fitz."
"Thank you,...Fitz." She cooed emphasising the word Fitz.
"So as you see, Cait, I must learn Irish and I want you to be my teacher."
"Whatever you say, Fitz. When do you want to start?"
"Even now. I have incredible hunger for knowledge." He smiled seductively and squeezed her hand.
The master bedroom in the Darcy Mansion in London was indeed grand. The bed was immense with comfortable mattress of which comfort the young master had learned through experience. On the bed there was a naked woman lying. Her hair spread over the pillow. She was wearing a seductive smile and was winking at the men lying at her feet. Their relationship continued for the past two months to the advantage of both - the lady and the gentleman.
"This is cos" said he, kissing her toe.
"No, it's mear cois" replied she giggling.
"But this is cos" said he moving his hand from her hip to the foot.
"Very good! You are a fast learner!"
"And this is colpa" he kissed her calf.
"And how do you call that?" she ventured running her finger over her smooth thighs.
"This is a lovely ceathrú But I absolutely adore your little imleacan" he touched her belly button and then moving onto her breasts, continued his lesson of Irish with his steward's wife.
One fine morning Sean O'Ghrainne came down from a train at London Waterloo Station. He ordered the cabman to drive him to any hotel. There, he ate breakfast, changed and went out to town. He looked into windows and at the posters. Finally, he found himself in front of the Darcy Mansion. He rang:
"Who is it?" asked some voice.
"I."
The door opened and a clerk stood in it
"I'd like to see Mr. Darcy." Said the Irishman.
"Mr. Darcy does not receive at such hours." Replied the man.
"He'll see me."
"I doubt it, sir. Mr. Darcy receives from eleven till one and then from three to four. On Wednesdays and Fridays he receives invited guests also later. This applies to family and close friends. They should lay their cards here." He pointed at the tray that was standing on the table, "Mr. Graham receives visits from strangers and business calls: Edward's Street 37."
"This is my card. Please tell, Mr. Darcy that I'm here. It's one o'clock."
"One o'clock and five minutes. You can come at three."
"Get lost." Called Sean and left. The door closed behind him. He kept observing the house for several minutes. Suddenly in the left wing a small door opened and a young lady ran out, biding her farewell with a cascade of laughter. As soon as she was gone, the secret passage closed.
"So for some one and five is good. Pretty little exceptions are tolerated through the secret doors. Maybe I should knock there? They'll take me for a girl and lead into the sanctuary! The young master, si correct elsewhere enjoys his time in his own capital! Let him be as long as he lets me in." Sean knocked twice but there was no answer. He didn't have any password or set sign so he gave up.
It was dinnertime when Sean walked into a restaurant. He decided against going to see Fitz Darcy in the afternoon. He had no wish to encounter the clerk again.
The restaurant was not yet very crowded and just as Sean was to be seated, he heard a familiar voice say:
"I ordered a tortoise soup and you serve me this?"
It was a thin, tall man with a monocle.
"I am so sorry, Sir James. I will do my best..."
"It is not good enough. I've lost my appetite for your tortoise soup. Bring me the broccoli one."
"Right away, Sir James."
"James?" inquired Sean, recognising Darcy's butler.
James stood up and sat down again.
"Ah, the young master." He stood up again
"Can I join?"
"Of course!" They sat together.
"Please, don't give me out. They think I'm a baronet. I have a week off." Said James in whisper.
"Don't worry. I will not give you out...under one condition."
"That is?" asked James slightly terrified.
"That you'll get me an appointment with your master. For today."
"Tough, sir."
"Your soup, Sir James." Interrupted them the waiter.
"I hope you make your broccoli soup better than your tortoise soup."
The waiter bowed. "Would you like to order something, sir?" he addressed Sean.
"Yes. I'll have, the same as...Sir James."
"Right away, sir." The waiter disappeared.
"So, I have the appointment?" asked Sean
"I said it will be difficult. Mr. Darcy is very hard to be met."
"But no secrets before his butler."
"Shhh. I will do what I can."
It was already about ten when James led Sean into a club through the back door. The girls were dancing cancan on the stage and there was a lot of smoke and people in the room.
"Mr. Darcy is in the private room behind the stage." James whispered to Sean's ear and left. For a moment Sean was standing disorientated but soon his ear caught a conversation at the table behind him and began listening:
"Lady Caroline left yesterday for Scarborough."
"What a pity! She promised me a waltz at the Earl's!"
"But you did hear about yesterday's masquerade. Fitzwilliam came dressed as a woman and tried to seduce Ash!"
"And?"
"Comedy! Ash didn't recognise him and took it for granted. He danced with him and laughed and..." Sean didn't hear the last word. "...finally took him home. Today he wanted to fight."
"Is there to be a duel?"
"No, Fitz stopped them."
"Fitz and Richard are insupportable this year. I thought they wouldn't make it when they kidnapped the Duke's governess."
"I haven't heard about it."
"Right, you came from France yesterday. There was some quarrel between Fitz and the Earl of_____. Anyway, the governess was coming back from the theatre. Fitz was nice and sweet, he asked and begged and pleased. They've agreed upon a hotel. She was so all over him that she wasn't paying attention to where he was taking her. He took her to the Earl's. He bribed the servants. Put the girl in the library and went to fetch every gossipy creature in town. The Earl was already in bed but woke up when the governess began to call, as she was scared staying alone for so long. The Earl went down thinking it was fire and met the governess in the library. She began screaming and at that moment the butler began letting in the guests! What a scandal!"
"What happened to Fitz and Richard?"
"They were called to Court. The Queen was displeased. The girl was discharged from the Duke's. The Earl fell ill. They were saved by Lady Caroline who swore, they were at her house all evening."
"I don't know what would have happened, had she not done it."
"But do you know that Miss Hanslop slapped Lydia Burney and it was for Fitz."
"I've seen it. They were yelling at each other."
"And do you know with whom Fitz...?" he made a significant face.
"With some twenty."
"Yes, but..."
"With Lady Caroline."
"That's official but he's having an affair with his steward's wife."
"That pretty Irish thing?"
"We all know that Fitz is a champion in affairs with married women."
"Because he's no intention to marry, just like yourself." They all laughed.
The men stood up and went to the bar.
Sean directed himself towards the room, Darcy was supposed to be in. It took him some time and money before he managed to open the door. What he saw inside, was beyond his imagination. Darcy was standing, holding a girl in his arms. Another two, half-naked girls were running around the room chased by two men. On sofas and couches other young men and women were enjoying their youth, so to speak.
It took Darcy a few moments to adjust his eyes and recognise the man standing in the door.
"Sean!" he called and leaving the girl he was with jumped towards the young Irish. Before Sean could say anything, he was seated with two young ladies at his sides and Darcy was pouring him a drink.
That night has ended some time after dawn.
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