On the last night before losing Georgiana Darcy forevermore to a new woman, Mrs. George Wickham, her older brother Darcy caught up on the last of the correspondence which accumulated while he searched the whole of England for her. The social event invitations still lay in a pile on the very edge of his desk, but this was not a new development as a result of Georgiana's running away but was a normal avoidance for Darcy, soon he would cast them into the fireplace.
Although his shoulders ached, he reminded himself he should rest for the following day would likely require a majority of his strength and fortitude to navigate. He had just one last letter for his steward at Pemberley discussing the spring crop rotations. As he worked furiously to finish, the door to his study burst open with a complete lack of ceremony.
His cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam stormed in wearing his full regimentals, his medals and regalia clinking as they swayed with each of his steps.
"A man takes one week to answer the call of his Major General. One week to return to training and preparing the young lads who will ship over to the Continent to give their lives for King and country." Richard stopped in the middle of the room, posting nearly at attention. "One week, and I return to find not only is my bachelor cousin to marry, hear me out, he's to marry the one woman he refused to marry for over a decade! Explain yourself, sir."
Darcy dipped his quill pen into the inkwell and continued to scribble on his parchment, ignoring Richard's tirade. As he exaggerated the final punctuation mark, Darcy began to speak, though his eyes raced over the letter in front of him. "Good evening to you, too, Richard."
"Are you mad?"
Darcy affixed his name, sprinkled sand on the letter and shook it free, and picked up the red wax to hold it over the lone candle sitting on his desk. As he held the wax over the flame, it began to melt and he turned it slowly to keep it from dripping before addressing his cousin. "There is a fallacy to your question." Darcy stamped the wax on his letter allowing it to cool for a moment before impressing his signet ring. "Should I answer I am not mad, you will take my actions as proof I am mad and cannot recognize it." He picked up the letter and triumphantly placed it atop the stack of correspondence to send out the following day. "Should I say I am mad, how can you trust the ramblings of a madman?"
Richard relaxed his posture and performed the famous Fitzwilliam rake of his fingers through his hair. Disheveling his appearance a great deal, Richard looked at his cousin Darcy with distress.
"I acknowledge you have not lost your faculties, sir. But Anne? Good God, what did they do to you? Should I inspect your person for marks of torture?"
Darcy examined his favorite cousin carefully. There was a peculiarity to Richard's distress; this was not a man worried about a cousin he considered a brother. There was a personal worry written plainly in the lines on his face. "How about a drink Cousin?"
Richard nodded and took two steps towards the fireplace only to about-face because his chair was not where it normally sat. He whirled around the room spotting it next to Darcy's desk. As he pulled the buttons on his coat with one hand to release the warmth and pressure, he unceremoniously rested his laurels in the chair. Darcy clapped the man on the shoulder as he passed on his way across the study to pour them both a drink.
"I cannot fathom how they worked upon you. For years, sidestepping and avoiding Catherine's machinations were your strong suit. You should hear my parents! They informed me I must take leave again at Easter for another family wedding!"
Darcy handed the drink to his cousin, then returned with his own drink to his position in the room: behind his desk. "They did not explain to you the argument they championed regarding why I must marry Anne?"
Richard gulped down his drink and placed the glass on the desk with the practiced manners of an officer in his Majesty's Finest. "If they had, would I be here asking you for an explanation? They made it seem you acknowledged your loneliness and wished to start a life as Georgiana begins hers. It was the largest load of bull I ever heard my father try to pass off as truth."
Darcy laughed. The weight of his decision and irritation of his cousin combined into a perfect storm of frivolity which seized his entire body. Richard resumed shouting at Darcy, but it wasn't until his laughter had escaped his body that Darcy could resume his composure. "How long have you loved our cousin, Anne?"
The Colonel stuttered in his shouts, shocked at such a question. "How – how did you know?" He narrowed his eyes at Darcy, awaiting an answer.
"I confess I did not, not until you reacted just now to the question."
Richard stood from his chair, shrugging off the burden of his regimental coat, and took Darcy's place in pacing the worn path in front of the fireplace. "For years Anne and I shared an affection, mostly through our letters. I could never offer for her, you know they would never allow us to marry."
"That I am not so certain of, Cousin. You do possess a number of admirable traits, plus you are the second son of an earl."
Richard stopped his pacing for a moment to stare at Darcy. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh will never substitute a Fitzwilliam Darcy with property and wealth for a lowly colonel in the army with impeccable bloodlines."
Darcy ruminated over his cousin's predicament, and tried to look at the situation as Richard saw it. Years of attending Rosings together at Easter played in his memory, with Richard always poking fun when Lady Catherine would bestow her compliments on Darcy. "Why did you never say? I would have supported you."
"She did not wish for me to talk to anyone in the family unless we were sure we would be able to wed. She is so alone, Darcy. We write to each other with frequency, which is overlooked by her chaperones because we are cousins and I am at war. She was afraid if we came forward and were denied, we would not be permitted to write one another."
Darcy rubbed his face, the blood pounding in his ears as his head throbbed mercilessly. Somehow, he had become the Paris to a Romeo and Juliet! Moreover, he questioned his own abilities to understand any of the people around him if he missed completely both Georgiana's resentment and now, Richard's love affair with Anne.
Equally exhausted, Richard backed away to sit again in his favorite chair, but the chair was not in its normal location. "Why the devil is my chair all the way over there?" Richard barked with annoyance. He walked over and heaved the chair over his head to move it back to its rightful home with a tremendous shudder to the poor piece of furniture's legs.
"Have a care, if you mind. The chair did nothing to you." Darcy held up his empty glass. "Pour us another round?" His cousin growled but retrieved both glasses from the desk.
As Richard poured drinks, he continued to unburden his soul. "I followed you to Kent each year that I could just to ensure her mother not force a wedding between you two, either through compromise, trickery or other such means. I thought if you were forced to go through with it, somehow I would find a way to stop it and take your place. But here I am in my thirties still without a means to provide the lifestyle Anne so desperately deserves."
Darcy accepted his drink and stared at the flames scarcely flickering on the logs in the fire. Richard retreated to his favorite chair spent, a man with a broken heart.
Running his finger around the rim of his glass, Darcy made his decision. He would tell Richard all he knew and together the two cousins would find a way to fix this mess their family had once again created. Someone in this cursed family would have a happy marriage, and it would be Richard and Anne.