The Three Colonels

Sir Richard’s face broke into a wide grin. “Anne de Bourgh, I love you.”

Anne smiled cheekily in return. “That is well, for I adore you!”

“You know, I have not kissed you before today.”

“Egad, we have been engaged for over two months! We have some catching up to do.”

*   *   *

“Marianne, my Marianne, I cannot believe it.” Christopher stroked her face.

“I am no dream, m’love.”

“Why did you not tell me you would be in London?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did that. Wait, whose idea was this?”

“Mine, why do you ask?”

“It sounds like something Mrs. Darcy would plan.”

“Well, she helped.”

Christopher kissed her forehead. “My love, where is Joy? Back at Delaford?”

“As if your daughter would permit that!”

“What do you mean? She is here?”

“If by here you mean Darcy House, no. She awaits her papa at Brandon House.” At his look she added, “Oh no, Christopher! We must remain for some little time—for form’s sake, at least. Joy is napping now, in any case. Let us rejoin the Darcys.”

*   *   *

The party sat comfortably around the sitting room. The Brandons took up most of one couch, Marianne practically draped over her husband. Denny was embarrassed, and Georgiana was slightly shocked, but the Darcys looked upon their friends with a lenient eye. Sir Richard and Anne had yet to make their appearance.

Elizabeth addressed Colonel Denny. “Thank you for volunteering to come to Longbourn with us. I trust Mrs. Wickham will appreciate your kindness. I am instructed to tell you that she personally thanks you for your compassionate letter to my family.”

The colonel colored slightly. “It is the least I can do, Mrs. Darcy. It is I who must thank you—for lodgings here tonight and for transport tomorrow.” Denny was traveling with the Darcys to Meryton to offer his personal condolences to Lydia. She and the children had removed to Longbourn at the report of Wickham’s death.

“Think nothing of it,” said Darcy. “We shall leave tomorrow after breakfast to collect Mrs. Tucker, and thence to Hertfordshire.”

Georgiana stuttered, “Were you there, Colonel… when…” She could not finish.

Denny struggled over what to say. “Yes, I was there, but I did not see Major Wickham fall.” He in good conscience could not tell the girl the whole truth. Wickham had awaited Napoleon’s approaching Imperial Guard like a man in anticipation of his execution. When Denny found Wickham’s body after the battle, he saw that a cannonball had practically cut his old friend in half. No, Denny would never share those visions. They were forever entombed along with Wickham in a grave at Waterloo. “He fought well, but so did many others we left behind us in Belgium.”

“I understand that Richard was made a knight,” Georgiana continued. “Do you receive any award?”

“No, Miss Darcy, save that my brevet promotion to colonel was made permanent. That is award enough for me.”

“Why is that?”

Denny smiled. “I will now have money enough to marry, Miss Darcy.”

Georgiana blushed.

Darcy asked, “So you plan to remain in the army, Denny?”

“Yes, sir. I find the military life suits me.”

“What is your next post?” asked Christopher.

“For now, I am to return to Horse Guards. But I think I will put in for a transfer to India next year.”

“Why India?” asked Georgiana.

“A colonel’s pay goes further there, and I hope to work towards promotion, Miss Darcy.”

Elizabeth smiled. She could read between the lines better than most, and Colonel Denny’s attentions to the Widow Wickham had been very marked. She wondered whether Lydia would like living in India.

Sir Richard and Anne finally entered the sitting room, walking in hand in hand. Elizabeth, Marianne, and Georgiana embraced the couple with cries of delight. It was some time before the pair could sit down upon a sofa.

“If you do not mind, Darcy,” Sir Richard said, “I think there will be a change of plans.”

“I thought there might. Kent or Derbyshire?”

“Rosings first—Lady Catherine deserves at least that.” Sir Richard then grinned. “Besides, I need to survey my new properties now that harvest time grows near.”

“Do you think you will enjoy farming, sir?” asked Denny.

He gave the younger man a stern look. “Denny, we are comrades now. You may call me…” he hesitated, and then with dramatic importance, “Sir Richard.”

A pause—then Fitzwilliam dissolved into laughter.

“Denny, if you call that fool anything but Fitz, I will personally cuff you,” demanded an amused Christopher.

After a poke from Anne, Sir Richard stopped laughing. “I think I will like it well enough, Denny. I know I will fancy the accommodations.” He started chuckling again when he noted that Anne was not amused. “What is it, my dear?” She simply gave him an arch look. “What?”

“Oh, do not be cross, Cousin,” cried Georgiana. “Tell us of Richard’s proposal!”

“You have hit upon the heart of the matter, Georgiana,” Anne responded. “There has been no proposal!”

“What? Then how are you engaged?”

“You had a hand in that,” Anne said with a look.

“Oh, the letters!” Georgiana blushed while Denny simply looked confused.

Anne nodded in confirmation. “Yes, we have compromised ourselves! We wrote to each other, Colonel Denny, and there is nothing for it but to marry! Which is all fine and good, but it would be nice actually to receive a proposal,” she turned to her intended, “especially as Colonel Sir Richard Fitzwilliam acts as if Rosings Park is his already!” She gave Richard a de Bourgh glare.

Sir Richard looked thoughtfully at Anne for a moment and then away. “Hmm, we cannot have that.” He began to stand.

“Richard?” Anne was afraid her teasing had gone too far and she had offended her beloved.

But abruptly, Sir Richard threw himself at her feet. On one knee, with one hand on his breast and the other raised to the heavens, he declared, “Sweetest, loveliest Anne! You are the light of my life, the song in my soul, the starch in my stockings—”

“The starch in your stockings?”

“Quiet, woman, you are ruining the moment. Where was I? Ah yes, I cannot live without you! Would you— could you—might you—consider taking pity on this poor fool? I offer all that I have—an old warhorse and a slightly used sabre. What treasure! All I own and my heart. Say yes and make me the happiest man in the world! Reject me, and call for the undertaker the next instant, for I shall surely die of a broken heart. My fate is in your hands, my lady.”

He lowered his face into his hands for a moment before peeking up at her. He beheld a smirking Anne, trying not to giggle. He could not see the various looks of his audience, ranging from delight to amusement to astonishment. “Marry me, Annie?”

She smiled sweetly. “Of course! Before you inflict yourself on some other unfortunate lady.”

Sir Richard sweetly kissed each of Anne’s hands before retaking his seat next to her. “How was that, Georgiana?”

His cousin just shook her head as the others exploded into laughter.

*   *   *

The three colonels took their leave of each other before the Fitzwilliam family’s London townhouse. Darcy