Disclaimer: Jane Austen's estate owns the characters and settings of this story, apart from those original to the author or with historical basis. The story itself belongs to the author and no profit is being made from it.

War and Lace

Act One: Rosings

A state of affairs that every new bride must face is that not only does she gain a new husband, but that she must also inherit a family.

Thus it came to be that Elizabeth Bennett spent her first autumn as Mrs. Darcy firmly closeted at Rosings Park keeping company with her husband's family and dearly wishing she was almost anywhere else.

The company assembled was not one which suited her tastes. Lady Catherine, condescending to the point of nausea to the new niece she considered beneath her, Miss De Bourgh, Mr Collins, who, torn between his cousin, so elevated in status, and his benefactress barely seemed to be able to complete a sentence anymore without flinching and, worst of all, Major-General Fitzwilliam. This was not the Colonel Fitzwilliam who was Darcy's cousin, a man Elizabeth admired and liked very much. He was currently away fighting the French. Instead it had fallen to Lady Catherine's youngest brother, the uncle of Mr Darcy, to be on leave for the duration of their visit. Major-General John Fitzwilliam was a seasoned warhorse, dark-haired and white-bearded, and, at 42 a confirmed bachelor, married to the army. He was the most insufferable bore Elizabeth had ever met.

With the company of her husband, new sister, Georgiana and her dearest friend, Charlotte, she was at least more fortunate. The news that there were still more friends to add to the company, namely Maria Lucas and her own sister, Kitty, who were coming to stay with the Collin's at the Parsonage in the first week of October, brought yet more solace and allowed her to meet several long days at Rosings Park with her tongue between her teeth and greater forbearance than hither to whilst she waited for the fateful day when she might be able to laugh a little and speak of fancies and fun with the younger ladies.

Today was a typical day. Cosseted in the south-facing sitting room, Lady Catherine was holding forth on the correct manner of stitching drapery in grand houses, a veiled-insult as she inferred that Elizabeth would have no experience of such things and should not be blamed for her ignorance in such matters, having come from such a modest estate. On the far side of the room, Major-General Fitzwilliam was fighting the Battle of Canopus again for poor Darcy. She could only presume that her husband had inadvisably made an innocuous remark about the war on the continent, a certain way of setting the man off on every major conflict since he had first fought in the army. As he had only just reached the Egyptian campaign at the turn of the century she was sure he was set to continue throughout the afternoon, dinner and evening without releasing his captive audience for a moment.

As Lady Catherine droned on to her right, and the Major-General droned on across the room, she exchanged long suffering glances with Charlotte and wilted in the stuffy room. Willing the clock to chime, she counted away the minutes, longing for the day to come that would bring their new arrivals to Rosings in a blaze of gossip and chatter. . .

. . .And as Kitty wittered on about the unfairness of sharing a carriage with six other people and how she should not have been forced to sit backwards which always made her feel ill and how the dreadful man sitting next to her was fully sitting over her share of the bench and quite crushed her bonnet, she despaired. Looking to the long-suffering Maria, pale and wan after several hours of this relentless complaining, her heart went out to her. Here at least was some welcome company.

Determined to create at least a brief respite from the direness of the assembled company, Elizabeth looked to the guests. Lady Catherine was more than content fussing over Anne whilst Mr. Collins fussed over her. If she could only free her husband from the iron grip of the Major-General, she, Georgiana, Charlotte and Maria might have some brief respite from the three-sided onslaught.

Turning back to Kitty, she had a sudden thought. "Have you spoken with Major-General Fitzwilliam yet?" she inquired politely.

"No." Kitty looked offended, "I was still describing the terribly rude woman who kept talking and talking and talking the whole journey here. Quite interrupting me all the time and─,"

"I had better introduce you properly," Elizabeth stood, bobbed a curtsey to Lady De Bourgh and conveyed her sister across the room, "I know you still have quite a fondness for soldiers, and the Major-General has such interesting stories of the war that I'm sure you'll become great friends."

Arriving at the corner where her husband sat, glassy-eyed, in thrall to the Major-General's constant monologue, she gave a great smile and stopped the man mid-flow. As the gentlemen rose, she seized the initiative and gave Kitty a little push forward.

"Major-General Fitzwilliam, my sister, Miss Bennett, is such an admirer of the sterling work of our country's army in routing Napoleon, I thought you would very much welcome the opportunity to instruct her further in it."

As he opened his mouth, presumably to politely decline; a soldier of his rank having no inclination to school what he could only call a 'young gel' in the arts of war, Elizabeth continued firmly, "And if I could steal away my husband for a short while, I believe Miss Lucas has a message for him from her father, the Lord." With that she determinedly took the arm of her husband and steered him away and towards the pianoforte where Georgiana, Charlotte and Maria had already convened and were eying proceedings with no little amusement.

Standing awkwardly for a long moment, the Major-General, little used to young ladies of the gentry, finally invited her to sit. Perching on the edge of the fussy, over-cushioned settee, he harrumphed uncomfortably and poured himself a generous measure of port, his crimson cheeks a testament that he'd already drunk more than his fill. "I take it that young ladies do not drink port, Miss Bennett," he eyed her uneasily, agitating a fussy cushion tassle that sat by his hand.

"Not at all," Kitty reassured him quickly, "I'd much prefer it to tea. Mama makes me drink far more tea than I'm certain is truly good for me."

"But being a lady . . ." he continued, off-balance at her carefree assurance.

"I'm not going to sit here thirsty for anyone!" she retorted, settling herself in comfortably as he unstoppered the bottle and poured her a small measure of the drink, "Now did I tell you how dreadful the journey was here? The gentleman next to me quite─,"

"Now, now," the Major-General seized the conversation back again, "It does better not to dwell on such things, when I was stationed in Egypt back at the turn of the century─,"

"He was quite rude to me, but I put him properly in his place─,"

"You see the journey from England was most arduous and─,"

"I told him that I'd never been spoken to like that in my life before and that─,"

"Many a fine soldier perished on the long journey─,"

Across the room, the Darcy's, Miss Lucas and Mrs Collins stared in fascination. It was compelling, watching both stubborn hard-headed people plough on remorselessly with their own conversations, determined to end the victor and the centre of attention.

Neither seemed to take a breath, cutting off the other with a ruthless lack of ceremony, and in this way they continued, talking and drinking stoically as the Major-General automatically refilled their glasses, until, eventually, the clock struck ten and the party finally made their farewells, a tipsy Kitty being bundled off back to the Parsonage by Mr Collins, still insistent that she hadn't finished her conversation off to her satisfaction at all.

The next day the Collin's remained at the Parsonage with the Darcy's walking to call on them towards mid-morning. Kitty was confined to bed with a dreadful headache and much amusement was had recalling the night before whilst Mr Collins tutted and shook his jowls most disapprovingly at them all.

Just after luncheon, the Major-General called. This was quite to the surprise of the household as he had not been known to stray this far from his decanter before. The surprise was even greater when the Major-General, blushing vermillion and clearing his throat nervously, enquired after Miss Bennett, asking when he was likely to see her at Rosings again.

Elizabeth answered non-committally, to the obvious relief and slight consternation of the gentleman and with some effort kept a straight face until he had taken his leave before gleefully sinking into giggles, confiding in Charlotte that he was not accustomed to talking to someone who actually participated in his conversations and he had obviously found the experience most disquieting.

"Your dear sister does have a tendency to make an impression." was all that Elizabeth could get out of her husband, but it was quite enough to set her laughing again for quite some time.

It was fully two days later that the Major-General got his answer; an invitation for dinner for the whole party at the Parsonage was received from Lady Catherine. Mr Collins, always anxious after such a show of condescension, fluttered nervously around the house, questioning Maria's choice of dress twice and driving poor Charlotte frantic at her hair, before attending to his cousin and reminding her quite forcefully to defer to her superiors or risk losing Lady Catherine's beneficence which had been quite the epitome of graciousness up to this time.

It was thus with quite a heavy-heart that Kitty walked the short way to Rosings Park. She had been instructed to remember her manners this time and flatter the Major-General, no matter how dull his bothersome conversation was. She was quite angry that she had to spend such an evening in such an undesirable way and was determined not to enjoy herself a whit . . .

. . . To be continued.