Page 5 of The Twelfth Knight

The dancing continued for some hours before supper was called.

Foolish as the feeling was, Darcy always loathed having to watch as Elizabeth danced with other men. She belonged to him , and though they were bound forever in marriage, he was not remiss to the appreciative looks his wife received. Of course, he could not really blame those other men for admiring her—she was stunning in the emerald green silk and satin gown she wore.

She would be stunning in a potato sack , he thought to himself as he escorted his most recent partner into supper. The young lady was, thank goodness, respectful of the fact that he was a married man and had made no attempt to flirt with him—two of his partners that evening had not the same scruples. Both had expressed interest in a “discreet arrangement,” which he could “certainly have no objection to” given his wife was “likely to start having her own affair” now that she’d borne him a son.

Darcy was quick to put an end to their hopes in no uncertain terms and firmly stated his belief in Elizabeth’s fidelity.

“Unlike some,” he said firmly, “both Mrs. Darcy and I are firm believers in the sanctity of our marriage vows.”

Both women who had attempted to entice him into breaking those vows had been returned to their respective parties in a huff.

Dinner was as pleasant an affair as it could be, given Darcy found himself seated too far from Elizabeth for conversation with her to be possible. He was, however, fortunate in that his partner, Miss Dutton—daughter of a friend of his aunt—was an agreeable conversationalist, as was Mr. Edmund Bertram, who had been seated across from him. He found himself rather liking the Mansfield vicar the more he got to know him.

Speculation ran rampant throughout supper as to the identity of the twelfth man to be knighted that evening—no one seemed to know who he was. Those bold enough to apply to the Prince Regent for the identity of the man failed in their endeavours.

“He must be someone of excellent character,” said Miss Dutton when the subject had made its way into their conversation.

Darcy nodded. “I should imagine so,” he replied. “I had the opportunity to meet three of the gentlemen to receive the honour aside from my cousin before the ball began. They all seemed eminently respectable.”

“Your family must be so pleased for your cousin, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Dutton.

“They are indeed—I can assure you that Colonel Fitzwilliam is one of the best of men and has assuredly earned his honour as much as any of the others,” Darcy told her.

“Oh, I am sure he has!” said the young lady beside him enthusiastically. “I believe my father is acquainted with your uncle, Lord Disley, for he has always spoken very highly of him. Surely such a man has an equally respectable and worthy son.”

“Lord and Lady Disley have two sons, in fact. Viscount Rowarth, my uncle’s heir, would have been here to see his brother knighted were it not for his wife being so close to her confinement with their third child.”

Miss Dutton smiled. “How lovely that your elder cousin is so devoted to his lady as to wish to be with her at such a time. I have heard it said that men often leave all matters relating to children to the women.”

Darcy inclined his head. “That is the way it has been for many years, Miss Dutton, but I can gladly say that Lord Rowarth is very much devoted to his lady and her comfort. No doubt his parents and even his brother would have wished him to attend tonight’s event, but they all of them understand and support his reason for remaining in the country with his wife and children.”

A sigh escaped the young lady before she blushed lightly and looked down at her plate. “If it is not too bold of me to say, Mr. Darcy, I wish very much for such a union with my future husband. To be truly cherished and loved instead of regarded as a means to an end.”

“Do not despair of it, Miss Dutton,” Darcy said kindly. “Marriages based on affection rather than fortune are slowly but surely becoming increasingly common. If I may offer some advice to you, make your sentiments known to your parents. Hopefully knowing your feelings on so important a matter will guide them in the selection of young gentlemen they introduce you to.”

“You are very kind, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Dutton. “I believe I will do as you suggest, as the gentleman they introduced to me the other day did not appeal to me in the least.”

When she gave a little shudder, Darcy chuckled. “I am sorry to hear it. Is your dance card full, Miss Dutton?”

“In fact, it is not, Mr. Darcy,” said she. “The last set has not yet been claimed. Why do you ask?”

“Then may I inquire as to whether you have been introduced to my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam?” he asked.

Miss Dutton shook her head. “No, I have not.”

“As your mother is an intimate friend of my aunt, I would have thought she would have arranged it,” Darcy said wryly. “For her son is single, as are you, and your family both wealthy and respectable.”

His partner laughed. “When you put it that way, sir, I am as surprised as you are that we have not been introduced.”

Darcy cleared his throat. “Pray forgive me if I have spoken impolitely.”

“Oh no, not at all, sir,” Miss Dutton assured him. “Truth be told, my mother is rather eager to see me married, as at two-and-twenty I am older than the daughters of many of her friends, and I cannot imagine she would be displeased with a connection to nobility, even through a second son.”

Again, Darcy nodded. “Then if you have no objection, I should like to introduce you to my cousin when supper is done. If nothing else, you will have a lively partner for the final dances of the evening.”

“I should be delighted, Mr. Darcy, for it would certainly be pleasing to have a lively partner over no partner at all!”

The grand feast ended not long after this discussion, and as it so happened, both Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam found him amidst the crush of people making their way back into the ballroom. Darcy quickly made the introductions and deftly exchanged Miss Dutton’s hand on his arm for his wife’s, leaving Fitzwilliam to escort his new acquaintance.

“Begging your pardon, Miss Dutton,” Fitzwilliam said, “but is your father Mr. Arthur Dutton of Amberston Park?”

“He is, yes,” she replied.

“By Jove, then, I am quite surprised you and I have not met until this moment,” Fitzwilliam declared. “My parents were speaking of your family only this morning, and I clearly recall mention of a daughter that my mother wished me to meet this evening.”

“I daresay, cousin, you’d have met her when we did had you not been called away to speak to His Highness after the first set,” offered Elizabeth.

“I am certain, then, that both of our mothers will be delighted that we have been introduced at last,” said Miss Dutton.

“Have either of you seen Georgiana?” asked Darcy then.

“She was not far from Theodore and me,” Elizabeth replied. “I’m sure she will be along in a moment.”

As though her words summoned her sister-by-marriage, Georgiana appeared on the arm of Tom Bertram, who had been her partner for the supper set. The gentleman was then introduced to Miss Dutton, as Georgiana had already met her.

“That supper was divine, was it not, Lizzy?” she said.

Elizabeth smiled. “I daresay the royal family spared no expense in acquiring enough to feed everyone.”

“I agree that it was sumptuous, Miss Darcy,” said Miss Dutton. “The roast duck was sublime!”

“I thought so as well!” cried Georgiana. “And that rice pudding was just the right amount of sweet.”

“No doubt Her Majesty’s army of cooks are exceptionally skilled at the culinary arts,” offered Fitzwilliam. “I quite enjoyed the meal myself.”

The three couples made their way further into the ballroom, with Fitzwilliam and Miss Dutton splitting away toward the lady’s parents. The other two were met by their family members as the royal family were gathering around the dais.

“My lords, ladies, and gentlemen,” began Prince George when the crowd at last fell silent. “As you are aware, this splendid ball was arranged not only to celebrate Twelfth Night, but also to celebrate the elevation in rank of twelve very deserving men, who have done much in the service of King and country.”

Two footmen then appeared, one carrying a stool that he placed directly before the dais, and the other a sword that he presented to the Prince Regent with a deep bow. The prince then turned to Queen Charlotte and said, “With your permission, Your Majesty.”

The Queen lowered herself gracefully into the chair she had occupied earlier in the evening, arranged her skirts, then inclined her head. Prince George then moved to stand before the stool as another footman appeared—in fact, the one who had been assigned to announce arrivals at the beginning of the evening—and opened a scroll.

“The following gentlemen shall come forth and kneel before His Royal Highness the Prince Regent,” he called out, before reciting the first of the names.

As the ceremony proceeded, Darcy quickly caught on to the fact that each man was being called in reverse alphabetical order according to their surnames. He would have imagined it going the other way, but then what did he know of such things?

His attention was caught when he heard his cousin being called forward. Fitzwilliam walked with military precision to stand before the knighting stool on which each man knelt to receive his honour, first standing to attention and saluting before he bowed and then lowered himself to one knee upon the stool.

When both his shoulders had been touched with the sword and he had been presented with the insignia of his new order, Fitzwilliam stood, saluted, and bowed again before retreating to stand once more beside his proud and beaming parents.

The caller lifted the ceremonial scroll once more and called out, “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Shock held Darcy frozen for a heartbeat, before Elizabeth’s hand moved from his arm to the small of his back and gave him a push. Dumbfounded to have heard his name and not at all understanding why, he moved forward as though in a daze.

After he had bowed before the royal family, his gaze rose to the countenance of the Prince Regent, and he asked, “Your Highness, with the utmost respect intended, I must ask… Why have you included me among those to receive this honour? Why did no one inform me of it?”

Silence suddenly fell over the ballroom—not one of the men thus far had questioned why they were receiving their knighthood.

“The blame for your ignorance falls to your cousin, Sir Theodore,” said Prince George. “It was his suggestion that you be surprised, as he seemed to believe that were you to be previously informed of the honour, you would refuse it.”

Darcy glanced over his shoulder, and would it not cause the other attendees to gossip, he would have glared at his cousin, who was grinning like a fool.

Turning back to the Prince Regent, he said, “I cannot say he was entirely in error. I do not feel I have done anything worthy of such extraordinary recognition.”

“From what my son has told me, Mr. Darcy,” spoke up Queen Charlotte, “you saw to it that the families of the men in your cousin Sir Theodore’s regiment were supplied with the funds to support themselves, during that unfortunate period when the army had such… difficulty in distributing the pay of the men in His Majesty’s service. Is not seeing to the survival of those whom our countrymen defended not worthy of honour and recognition?”

“If you say it is, Your Majesty, then I cannot deny it,” Darcy replied.

He then drew a breath, straightened his posture, and knelt on the stool as the others had done. The Prince Regent then lifted the sword in his hand and touched the flat of the blade to his right shoulder, lifted it, then touched it to his left shoulder. Darcy stood and was then presented with the insignia of his order.

He was now a Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath.

When the medal had been affixed to the left breast of his tailcoat, Darcy once again bowed before the royal family, then returned to his own. The next man to be knighted was called forward as he reached them, though the disbelief he still felt at the turn of events led him to pay the continuation of the ceremony no heed.

“Now we know who the twelfth knight is, Sir Fitzwilliam,” said a teary-eyed Elizabeth.

Darcy reached for her hands. “Indeed, we do, Lady Darcy.”

She gasped softly. “Upon my word—I am to be Lady Darcy now, aren’t I?”

“Congratulations, nephew,” said Lord Disley. “Her Majesty was correct: Attention to those left behind as our sons went off to war is most certainly worthy of recognition.”

“I most heartily agree, my lord,” said his wife. “Oh, William—forgive me, Sir Fitzwilliam—your dear parents would be so proud of you.”

At last Darcy felt an inclination to smile. “I like to think they would be, my lady.”

Georgiana then came up to him, stood on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “Of course, Mamma and Papa would be proud! Oh, I secretly wished the twelfth knight could be you—for all your kindness to those families—when you and Lizzy spoke of it in the carriage. And it has happened!”

“Do you like my surprise, Will?” queried Fitzwilliam then. “Oh, you do not know how hard it was to get this for you, but the moment Wellesley told me he had submitted my name for recognition, I insisted on including yours.”

Darcy’s brows rose. “You did this?”

“I campaigned for it, yes,” his cousin replied. “Cousin, really—you do deserve it. Without your kindness, so many of my fellow soldiers’ families would not have survived to see them return. For that matter, those that perished on the battlefields of France would despair even in Paradise did they not know their loved ones had received some form of support.”

Darcy sighed, then looked down at the cross on his chest. “I… It still feels so unreal. I would never have expected to receive such an honour.”

“Yet the honour is yours, my love,” said Elizabeth with a squeeze of his hand. “And I agree, it is most decidedly deserved.”

After clearing his throat, Lord Disley said, “Now that all your family has congratulated you, Sir Fitzwilliam, I think it best we turn our attention to the rest of the ceremony. We would not wish to appear rude before the royal family.”

“Certainly not, uncle,” Darcy replied, as he turned to face forward once more, Elizabeth’s hand clasped firmly in his own.

Following the end of the knighthood ceremony and the resumption of the dancing, all the men who had received honors—at least, those who were not dancing—were approached by acquaintances offering congratulations. Between sets, Darcy found himself standing before the Duke of Wellington himself, who had campaigned for his knighthood along with Fitzwilliam.

When he asked the duke why he would seek such a reward for a man he had never before set eyes upon, His Grace replied, “You took care of the families of several of my men when they could not perform that duty themselves. What honour greater than serving King and country can there be other than seeing to the health and comfort of those left behind? I read the letters you sent to your cousin on the matter—do not be cross with him for sharing personal correspondence, Sir Fitzwilliam, as I requested to read them when he claimed to possess proof of your worth to join him and the others in receiving honors this evening.”

Wellington paused and drew a breath, then added, “Men who serve in the army can barely afford to support their families as it is—upon learning that their pay was not being dispersed as it should be, they began to despair for their loved ones. A man who despairs is a man who is distracted and is a danger to himself and others on a battlefield. They were of no use to me or the alliance in such a state.

“Then, out of nowhere, the men seemed to rally. I had no notion as to why, but as we were amidst a series of tactical campaigns, I did not question it. And when Sir Theodore here heard me say I intended to recommend him for commendation, he adamantly insisted that your name be submitted as well, and when I asked him why I should go to such lengths for—as you said, a man I had not met—he said he could show me letters proving you were worthy of recognition.”

Darcy turned to his cousin. “You give me far too much credit, Theo. I only did what I thought was right.”

“And is that not the best reason to reward a man for his efforts?” Fitzwilliam countered. “For simply doing what was right—and not because it was asked of him. You offered to see that those men’s families were provided for. And I can tell that each one of them would say that family is more important than anything.”

“He is right, my husband,” spoke up Elizabeth. “After all, we both know how important your family is to you.”

He smiled at her. “Indeed, it is, my love. I suppose, then, that I have no recourse but to get used to being called Sir Fitzwilliam.”

Elizabeth returned his smile. “And I shall have to get used to being called Lady Darcy. Oh, how odd it feels.”

Darcy nodded. “That it does. But at least we shall not have to get used to the change alone. Our cousin here must get used to being addressed as Sir Theodore.”

Fitzwilliam grinned and clapped his hands together. “I think I have already got used to the idea—I’ve had more time to do so, you see. I rather like the idea of being a knight.”

“Now all you need is an estate of your own and a wife to manage it, as Darcy—that is, Sir Fitzwilliam—has done,” said Lady Disley.

Soft laughter went through the group as Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes. “Mother, please. Do not speak of such things before His Grace!”

“Do not distress yourself, my good man,” Wellington said. “It is the province of all mammas to want to see their children married.”

The duke then excused himself, and each member of the family engaged for the next set went in search of their partners. By the time the ball drew to a close near dawn some hours later, they were each of them thoroughly exhausted.

“What a night, my love,” said Elizabeth wearily as she entered Darcy’s bedroom dressed in a light sleeping gown.

Seated on the end of the bed in his own night shirt, Darcy nodded. “Indeed, it was, my love. Are you certain you are not too fatigued? In your condition, you must be careful.”

His wife sat down next to him. “I remind you, Sir Fitzwilliam, that I sat out more than one set to rest myself, so as not to worry you.”

Darcy slipped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Sir Fitzwilliam and Lady Darcy. Who would have thought?”

“Quite so. Who would have thought that by the end of the ball, Georgiana would be practically engaged—”

“Don’t remind me,” Darcy interjected with a groan.

“—Theo would be harangued yet again by his mother about finding a wife, and you’d be the twelfth man knighted on Twelfth Night?”

“Certainly not I, my love,” said he. “Although I was actually the eighth man knighted out of the twelve.”

“Pish posh,” said Elizabeth with a tired wave of her hand. “You were the mysterious twelfth man, so it counts.”

The two then stood, and Darcy guided Elizabeth to her preferred side of the bed, He insisted on tucking her in before rounding the bed and joining her under the counterpane. They wrapped their arms around each other and sighed in tandem.

Some minutes later, a soft giggle startled Darcy from a doze. “Elizabeth?”

“Forgive me, my love,” said she. “I’ve merely just considered that I shall be writing to my mother this afternoon about the ball—you may recall she demanded I tell her of the latest fashions—and I can just imagine her reaction when she reads the part about you being knighted.”

Darcy groaned, then drew her closer. “Must you tell her at all? You know how she fawns over me now as it is—knowing I am knighted will only make matters worse.”

“Yes, my love, I must tell her,” Elizabeth replied. “It cannot be avoided. Now, do close your eyes again, fair knight, and go to sleep.”

A smile graced his lips and Darcy kissed her softly. “The same to you, fair lady. Good night, my love.”