Revelations an adaption of Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 104

Chapter 104

Darcy doesn't like leaving Elizabeth in a neighbourhood like this. It reminds him of where he found Wickham and Lydia in London, a large ugly stone building riddled with small apartments. The smell of cabbage and the shabby children are absent, and he can see Elizabeth is merely interested, not abhorred to find her sister living in a place like this. Maybe Lydia warned her in one of her letters. His beloved does look very much out of place in her fur-collared coat, but she has Fanny along with her and she is as confident as ever. She will be fine.

Leaving her with her sister gladly, Lydia in her usual mood is hard enough to bear, to see her crying is almost embarrassing, Darcy soon finds himself approaching the camp where Wickham spends most of his days. It's incredibly large, of course a thousand men are stationed here, and though the officers are mostly housed outside the camp, the privates and their sergeants live in the large wooden barracks.

Bob is halted by a uniformed soldier, who gives him extensive directions and then sends them on their way. That's another talent a driver must possess, without hesitation the carriage makes turn after turn amidst barracks and drilling grounds and picket lines with horses, until it halts in front of yet another barracks. There is no way Darcy himself would have noticed the difference between this one and several others, but Bob has followed his instructions well for a soldier on duty approaches the carriage, and after exchanging a few words with Bob, opens the door and says, 'Colonel Drummond is expecting you, Mr Darcy, will you follow me, please?'

The inside of the wooden structure looks more like he expected, simple but expensive, wood panelling, hardwood flooring, carved doors. He is shown into what he guesses is the colonel's office, it's as large as Darcy's own study, with a sizeable desk, a sturdy cabinet, several flags, banners and maps hanging from the walls and very little else. A few barely comfortable chairs are lined up in front of the desk.

'Colonel, Mr Darcy to see you, sir.'

A handsome man in his late forties rises from what seems to be a much more comfortable chair behind the desk, he has a clean-cut, clean-shaven face, greying hair and an upright bearing, with broad shoulders and a still-narrow waist. If he can age like this himself, Darcy will be very pleased.

'Thank you, Ensign Carter,' the man addresses the accompanying soldier. Then, 'Mr Darcy of Pemberley, such a pleasure to meet you! Why don't you follow me to a somewhat more comfortable room.'

They shake hands, and then the colonel leads Darcy to a tiny sitting-room with a low table and two beautiful leather sofas, talking all the time.

'We've never met, though I know both your uncle Lord Compton and your very capable cousin Colonel Compton very well, but I feel as if I know you, too. My wife has been following your adventures in the newspaper, and when I told her you'd requested a meeting she let me promise her to invite you and your lovely wife to dinner without delay.'

As they sit down and an aide pours coffee for them, Darcy cannot help feeling a little put out. This whole society and paper business is turning out to be one big pain, it seems to follow them everywhere. It's very obvious that England is a lot bigger than just London, and that people everywhere read that one newspaper, even those cursed society pages. Elizabeth will not be pleased.

'Thank you, Colonel Drummond, I'm very pleased to meet you, too, and we will be delighted to join you for dinner of an evening. I just hope your wife's expectations will not all be based on the newspapers, they do tend to exaggerate, you know.'

'I told her the exact same thing, it's not as if Mrs Darcy will turn up in her best French dress, if you were coming over to blind the locals with your importance you would have elected to stay with us, not in some little inn on the very edge of this part of the world. You must be looking for some peace and quiet, and since you have been entertaining London society for the last few months, you have some right to escape prying eyes for a few weeks. I have warned my dear wife to expect you looking dressed for the country, not for the New Year's Eve Ball.'