Scotch and Sirens

Chapter One

 

Darcy leaned against the window frame in his study, embracing the view on the square that was revealed before him. The passers-by leisurely taking respite from the summer day’s heat amidst its greenery. A young girl’s pearl laughter reminded him about another young lady whose youthful carelessness and easy manners seemed to be able to resist all the grievance of the world.

His thoughts went back to a letter in his hand in which his friend was describing the charms of the Kye river flowing smoothly beyond his window. Darcy sighed heavily, and with no little resentment concluded that similar scenery must be refused to himself until the sad business with Miss Bennet is complete.

He sat at his desk and composed his reply.

_____ Sq,
London,
England

Brougham,

Your report on your idyllic sojourn tortures me a great deal as it finds me still stuck in airless London with an indefinite number of tasks to accomplish. Thankfully, I think I can see now that the end of it is near, but as it took so much time and trouble till now I still hardly believe it.

A light knock on the door was heard and, upon his bidding entrance, a servant showed himself in the doorway.

“Mr. Wickham to see you, Sir.”

“Tell him to come in.”

Later that day Darcy poured himself a brandy and, seeing nothing tempting in the now grey view outside the window, he reviewed the end of Brougham’s latest letter wistfully.

As to my plans, I have made no fixed engagements. I never do you know, as I could never abide being anything but happy at Clyne and am therefore at liberty to leave as soon as that no longer is the case. And as I took immeasurable delight only today in the clearest blue sky I have ever known and a peregrine circling high above my head, following me for a while during my walk, I do not think I shall be prevailed upon to leave until all the invitations for shooting parties are dispatched and lying safely undelivered, unopened and overdue on my desk in Berkeley Square.

I trust you will make a successful wrap of your various pursuits and will leave for Pemberley? Or have you arranged for hunting visits in some other delightful part of our fair isle?

Your freen, Brougham.

Darcy took a quill and added to his own reply.

You will probably be even happier with your present circumstances as soon as you learn that the heavy air, which has been hanging over London lately, has now changed into rain. Fog surrounds the town. There is so little to do before my departure and still I do not find the strength in me. Is that because I cannot see a new goal?

My further plans are not set. Pemberley is an option of course, but I am uncertain as to the wisdom of such a step. As for now, I desire but a good rest and no place providing any kind of work will ensure me this.

I tried to negotiate with Pocketsnake, as you advised me, but it seems he is looking for some particular kind of incentive. I will chance to discern exactly what that thing is. Till then, a date of marriage between Miss Bennet and Wickham is still uncertain, as well as my eventually taking leave of London.

Yere lelely and trewly,

Fitzwilliam Darcy.

After some days of unsuccessful attempts to contact Pocketsnake, accidental meetings with various acquaintances – whose mere sight Darcy would most willingly avoid, several failed endeavours to kill his restless at his Club – where the atmosphere was dull enough to successfully kill Darcy’s want of any company, and several meetings with either Wickham or his destined bride – which made Darcy question his own understanding of the Almighty’s designs, help finally came in the person of his sister.

Since Darcy’s stay in London seemed to be of an undetermined duration, and Bingley and his sisters had left Pemberley for Scarborough, Georgiana voiced her desire to join her brother in town, where the choice of diversions for a young lady her age was considerably larger. Her arrival forced Darcy to abandon his dim mood and provide some decent entertainment for her. It was decided then that they would attend several current events, and after arranging a list of such affairs that would provide some inducement for them both, Darcy became a diligent companion. On one of the evenings spent in such a fortunate circumstance, Darcy bid good night to his sister and Mrs. Annesley and went to his library for some quiet reverie with a book and his private correspondence. A letter from Brougham was on the top of the file.

Clyne Cottage,
Scotland

Dear Darcy,

I am afraid you have caught me in my poetic mood. Never say that it is dull in the north, for I went out this morning with the avowed intention of catching my own dinner, to Mrs. McLaughlin’s surprise, but was interrupted in my mission by a majestically proportioned thunderstorm! No doubt sent by your envy and confined situation in London as you thought of me.

Needless to say, that most gothic of weathers scared the fish more than my oaths and spectacle, and although I will protest at receiving any benefits or enjoyment out of Riemann’s fussing and Mrs. McLaughlin’s potions, I am now comfortably cooped up in the house again in front of a warm fire and reflections upon man’s insignificance against natural forces and his folly at thinking him able to disregard the signs sent to warn him. So I take to poetry! Or will you be shocked by a quote by Burns?

Darcy smirked as his eyes skimmed the poem, and he read on:

And I confess that when in his home country, my appreciation for him grows. I care little for his excesses and personal quests, but he does seem to grow on me when I see all around me what he was of. Travel broadens one's horizons, as they say!

So your letter is full of misery. I pray you stay with your fondness for music to sooth your sensibilities, and do not succumb to over-emotional poetry like me! I find that a good verse works best when inspired by happiness and not grief or boredom. As for Pemberley, I have never considered it to be but a wise step since you love the place so much. But you must do as you please on that score. Perhaps, however, this is a good time for those reflective moments in life. After all this duty you have performed most diligently lately, surely there must be some desire left to satisfy?

Your friend,

Brougham.

Darcy smiled and searched for a book of Burns’ poems among the shelves. After fingering several pages, he wrote the following:

_____ Sq,
London,
England

Dear Brougham,

Are you all right my man, or have you just started to question any sense in your willingly chosen occupation?

Should I be shocked? If so, I know not if more by your quotes of Burns or the mere fact that in such a state of spirit you still advise me to visit Pemberley. For is Pemberley or the name of Darcy of Pemberley anything but merely a Spiritual Excisemen?

Let me just quote the said Robert Burns, who was so lucky as to procure your recent interest:

Ye men of wit and wealth, why all this sneering
‘ Gainst poor Excisemen? Give the cause a hearing.
What are your Landlord's rent-rolls? Taxing ledgers!
What Premiers? What ev'n Monarchs? Mighty Gaugers!
Nay, what are Priests? (those seemingly godly wisemen?)
What are they, pray, but Spiritual Excisemen!

Brougham, I sincerely hope that the weather improves and so does your humour.

Yours truly,

Fitzwilliam Darcy of Nowhere.

August was slowly coming to its end. The weather was becoming more and more capricious, and so was Darcy’s temper, when Pocketsnake finally showed on Darcy’s threshold with an undoubtedly very haughty countenance. He did not give much in way of explanation for his recent absence, nor had Darcy expected he would. Avoidance was apparently Pocketsnake’s usual trump in negotiations, and a tune of triumph in his voice, unquestionably originating from the mere thought of having it in his power to make a gentleman of Darcy’s position await his appearance impatiently, only confirmed the obvious. It did not take Darcy much time to turn the unpleasant encounter into a short one, and soon the business was complete.

Darcy sat down to compose a note to the Gardiners and to look through his other letters. The one from Brougham was unfolded before the others.

Clyne Cottage,
Scotland

Dear Darcy of Elsewhere,

I get up on an ordinary day to find that there is much to be grateful for: the sun is shining, the trout is biting, my attempt at a self-mended fence has the approval of Mr. McLaughlin and my downhearted friend in London has rallied showing wit and spirit and is even capable of causing me a laugh from so far away by simply quoting poetry!

And by the way, you quite mistake me. I am very happy in just my chosen occupation since it gives me such excellent opportunity to support Mr. Burns’ indulgence for the Excisemen. The good Lord knows I think about nothing but their livelihood when I wash myself in the morning, write you letters by candlelight at night, sugar my tea or wear my new hats. Even the mere sight of Riemann gives me pleasure in knowing at least I have spent my life in use if I can thus contribute to Lord Liverpool’s coffers! Now you quite inspire me to dig out my Malthus books and happily count the hours away.

I suspect your real concern is that my circumstances will turn me into a bleak copy of Lord Byron. But never fear: neither talent nor inclination takes me in that direction, regardless of weather and poetic moods. Now a gentleman’s life suits me very well after all, I think. So you have my leave to confess to all your tax ledgers and tenant-rolls at Pemberley, and even enjoy their fruits!

Yours truly,

Brougham.

Darcy looked at the letter blankly. Amidst all his recent troubles he almost forgot what he had written in his last. Finally the recollection came to his mind, but his eyes kept staring at the opening. ‘From Elsewhere’ he thought, trying to discern what was so disturbing in this thought.

“Sir,” Darcy looked up and saw a servant in his doorway, “Colonel Fitzwilliam to see you.”

“Thank you, show him to the library.”

Lydia had just come down the stairs and was turning toward the breakfast room when there was a knock upon the door. She ran to it thinking it must be Wickham.
" A message from Mr. Darcy for the Gardiners, Miss," was the response from the messenger.
She thanked him, and as soon as the door was shut she broke the seal. She had no worry that this was a wrong thing to do. It must be news for her she thought, and of course Mr. Darcy could not address it to Miss Lydia Bennet, now could he? She began reading.

_____ Sq,
London,

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner,

I have secured the license for Miss Bennet and Mr. Wickham. The date has been set for next Saturday morning at the church you mentioned to me earlier. I apologise for such short notice, but as that was the only time they had available in the coming week, I thought it best to take it. I have arranged the commission for Mr. Wickham in General Wentworth's regulars up north, and I have included the proper paperwork for you to pass on to him. The couple will need to travel there immediately after the ceremony if he is to report in time for duty. Please be so kind as to make him aware of that fact. I have taken the liberty of arranging travel for them. A coach will be waiting outside the church after the ceremony.

Yours Sincerely,

F. Darcy.

Just as she finished the letter, a servant came into the hall to inform her that Mr. Wickham awaited her in the breakfast room. Going there directly, and noting that he was quite alone, she ran to him and planted a kiss on his lips while seating herself on his lap. After she was satisfied that she had his full attention, she began to tell him of the letter.
“ George, I have just had this from Mr. Darcy! We are to be married next week and go immediately off to the north country! What say you to that?”
She handed him the letter and the other documents, and removing herself to the sideboard, began helping herself to the fare there while he read. She managed to contain herself until it appeared that he had finished and had had time to digest the information.

“I had so hoped that we could go to Longbourn so I could show you off to my family first. I am extremely disappointed not to be able to be announced as Mr. and Mrs. Wickham! How I have longed to see the expressions on all of their faces! I would have gone before Jane now, being a married woman! Well, there is nothing to be done, it would seem. We are off to the north right after the wedding!

“Oh! The wedding! We are to be married at last! You shall wear your uniform, and…”

_____ Sq,
London,
England

Brougham,

Please, forgive my delay in sending this reply, but the number of recent errands that appealed for accomplishment first peaked at the end. Yes, the end it is. They are to be married soon. So, here I am in my study, strangely with nothing to do. I know this dull moment will pass soon, but now I find myself unable to think ahead.

Eventually everything went smoothly. Arnold Pocketsnake will have a particular place in my memory. Can you imagine the man being vain enough to directly demand a bribe? And the bribe’s substance? He requested an old jewel that Lady Catherine had given to my mother upon my birth, saying that the price I paid should be equal to the interest I had. Little did he know how insignificant the thing was to me. I only wish he had not taken so much time warming to his boldness.

Fitzwilliam paid me a visit two days ago, and his help in procuring the commission for Wickham was substantial. I am told that it is with a General Wentworth stationed in the north with his regiment. Wickham should find there an adequate guard. I have a feeling it was the best spent 500 pounds of my life. I would like to see Wickham’s countenance when he discovers that he will join not cavalry but infantry.

Of course, a pleasant feeling is not enough. I settled some money on Miss Lydia and would like to ensure myself that she will not be persuaded by Wickham to spend it unreasonably. Therefore, I plan to leave London as soon as possible and visit the northern regiment. I later plan to spend some more time in the area. Maybe the lakes? I am not inclined yet to determine my plans, but I think it possible I will stay there for some weeks. I wonder, however, if it is far from the place of your abode. If the distance is bearable, perhaps I could persuade you into a little trip to meet each other somewhere in the middle for some disobliging conversation.

Please name the place if you like the idea, or if you have simply had enough of drinking to the deer’s head hanging on the wall over the fireplace in your drawing room.

Yours,

Darcy.

The following days were spent on finishing touches to the several arrangements that, as usual, seemed at first almost complete already. Among other things it was decided that the London house would be opened for the remaining season to assure company for Georgiana. His sister had not taken the news about yet another of his departures contentedly, but upon witnessing his weary countenance she offered her assistance. Soon, the cards were sent, the house filled with guests and Darcy’s temper had grown even shorter.

Among the many visitors only one was received by Darcy with real pleasure. Bingley came to town just a day before Darcy’s departure and, after an evening spent in serious discussion in Darcy’s library, it was decided that Bingley would go to Netherfield for some shooting. Darcy was asked to join him but knowing about his planned visit to the north he could not commit.

“Perhaps,” he said after a silent lapse in the conversation. “I will let you know if I decide to come, but nothing is yet certain.”

Bingley, seeing that his friend was withdrawing further and further into his own thoughts, studiously examined his watch, and after both wished each other a good journey, he bid his farewell.

The house was silent and dark when Darcy strolled along the hallway to his chamber. He dismissed his valet with a gesture and started to unshed the layers of his attire. He lay in the bed for many hours before sleep finally came upon him. His questions still unanswered.

The morning was foggy and brisk. The hour was too early for a substantial breakfast, and Darcy was just finishing his second cup of coffee when Georgiana joined him to bid him goodbye. Darcy could not say if her sad expression was an effect of the early hour or of his untimely departure but, guiltily admitting that it must have been the latter, he felt a pang of culpability.

Upon his departure he grabbed his latest correspondence and, promising his sister to write as soon as he could, ascended his horse.

Later that night in an inn, another letter from Brougham was opened.

Clyne Cottage,
Scotland

Dear Darcy,

Your letter fills me with the strangest jumble of feelings. I am happy for you that your labours are finally coming to a (reasonably) satisfying end. But at the same time, if you were here, you would find my face is grim and my thoughts downcast. It is a harsh world we live in indeed when the most fortunate solution to this ghastly affair is that marriage. For very selfish reasons I sincerely hope that regiment is not so very north after all. I do not mind telling you I do not envy the fair sex one jot in their lot.

And if that last sentence has you all in tremor of another poetry onslaught being imminent, fear not. I shall, instead, continue my laments and declare the standard of our public servants is surely deteriorating. Where is the finesse and elegance? Just because bribes and incentives are necessary to complement their sorry wagers in their irreplaceable work, surely it does not mean they should forget all skill or flair?

But I feel I can withstand this melancholy quite well. Mrs. McLaughlin told me last night that a whole clan of otters have moved into the creek behind the house, apparently having found their old home upstream to be noisy and crowded compared to my neighbourhood! I have been called a lot of things in my life, but quiet is not one of them. Well, they shall soon come to see their error when I start wandering down to their lodgings to have a peek and a chat. You are right, that deer’s head is not very sociable; although with the arguments I level at him I am not surprised at his stunned silence.

Tomorrow Mr. McLaughlin and I are taking a small excursion northwards, probably covering a few days, to inspect the salmon passages before winter sets in. I am determined to be back in the spring for the fishing I missed last year because of all that tedious intrigue in London, and I want to be absolutely certain those streams are very inviting to our Piscean friends come their mating season next year!

Please give my sincerest regards to your family, Mrs. Annesley and Bingley, should you happen upon any of them. Also, be so good as to advise me on your plans, and perhaps I can be blessed with a fellow snorer in front of my fireplace one of these days.

Yours,

Brougham.

Darcy sighed heavily. He could not decide if making a decision as to his plans was the difficulty or the lack of having one. He composed a short reply and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

_____ Sq,
London,
England

Brougham,

As I said before, my plans are not yet settled. As soon as I reach the north I will apprise you of my next steps.

F.D.

This story is written by Laura and Sylwia, and they own full © copyrights to it.

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