Darcy and Fitzwilliam: A Tale of a Gentleman and an Officer by Karen Wasylowski Page A

booms of thunder and frightening light flashes, both competing with the rain that slashed across her windows. Catherine heard and saw none of it, her mind occupied solely with events of the past. Though not quite an old lady yet, she was well on her way, or at least that was how she felt on nights such as these, the nights she sat alone with her memories.
    She had more memories now in her life for company than realities, so she often would revisit her youth and what she considered her "useful" days. Just now she was thinking back to the summers and springs and autumns when families thought nothing of caravaning halfway across England and Scotland to visit, loaded with gifts and servants and dogs and children.
    She smiled, remembering all those children, especially her two boys, so different from each other and yet boon companions, mischievous, competitive, and loyal as brothers. She laughed softly. Had there ever been a time they were together that was not disastrous for her?
    She loved those boys fiercely, especially Darcy, as if he was her own, and perhaps he would have been if she hadn't chosen the path of prestige over love. She rarely admitted to regretting anything in her life, but that decision, in retrospect, had possibly been a mistake.
    There was a soft knock on her door. "Come in," she called, dabbing away any trace of her melancholy.
    "I wanted to say good night," Darcy said as he entered, closing the door behind him. It had been his lifelong nightly ritual when in residence to visit her before he retired. He looked sleepy but happy. Even with his hair tousled, without his jacket or cravat, he looked magnificent.
    "Is everything all right? Is Elizabeth settled?" She reached out her hands to him.
    "Yes, everything is perfect. She's rather overwhelmed by your kindness to her and to her father. I am, also, by the way. Thank you, Aunt Catherine." Darcy took her hands and, after kissing them both, he sat next to her on her settee. He tucked his aunt's arm through his own.
    "Well, I behaved rather badly before. I do freely admit it, but only to you. I will deny this to anyone else. I was so very disappointed, you see. I had really come to believe that you and Anne would marry one day."
    "I always told you we would not, though. Neither Anne nor I wished it. Why did it come as such a surprise?"
    "This may come as quite a shock to you, Darcy, but I can be a very stubborn, opinionated person." She immediately raised her hand between them in order to deflect any protests to which he would certainly give voice. He remained aggravatingly silent.
    "No, please don't contradict me." She lifted one eyebrow at his firmly sealed lips. "I know my faults, few as they may be." When Darcy dared look, he saw she was grinning back at him, and he laughed softly.
    "Tell me truthfully, how did Richard fare in overseeing?"
    He groaned then laughed, rubbing his hand across his forehead. "Well, we just went over a few items; it will take awhile to review everything, but all in all, it is rather a mess. He cannot add, you know, nor spell, and his record-keeping is abysmal. He paid several merchants more than once, and we'll need to contact your tenants to see who actually forwarded their rents. I'll tell you one thing, however--he has a real love for the land. He kept excellent accounts of crop and timber proceedings. He'd make a good tenant farmer, maybe even an adequate squire one day."
    "I tried to sit with him, but we're like oil and water so much of the time. He has no experience in running an estate this size, no training to speak of, being a second son, and yet he was the only one who stepped forward with assistance."
    "I am sorry this all came about. I had no idea you were that ill, or we would have been here. As it was, he informed us about it later, when you were already on the mend." Darcy shook his head "Regardless, I should have contacted you; it was unforgivably childish of me to sulk so long, and he never told me about your steward