The Soldier and the Author

Last month, I mentioned that I’ve started into serious edits for a novel I began a while ago. The working title is The Soldier’s Tale, and this is Colonel Fitzwilliam’s story.

As do so many Austen-inspired authors, I love the colonel. Jane Austen gives us such a small glimpse of him; he is little more than a plot device in P&P, providing both a foil to Darcy and setting up Elizabeth’s ire for the first proposal.

But Austen’s words are enticing.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman…

Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly, with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly…

It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended him still more; and Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by his evident admiration, of her former favourite, George Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners, she believed he might have the best informed mind….

In [Charlotte’s] kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was, beyond comparison, the pleasantest man: he certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible…

How can one not want to know more about a man like that, a man whom Elizabeth has to caution herself not to get too attached to?

I am far from the first author to write more about this charming gentleman. He is so generally admired that Fandom has even given him a name, and one that authors change at their peril. He is Richard. That’s the end of the discussion, no matter that Jane Austen herself disliked the name, and did not give him a first name at all. Far be it for me to swim against this tide, and so Richard he shall remain!

In other stories, either where he takes the starring role or where he is an important secondary character, he has been matched with Mary, or Jane, or Kitty, or even Lydia. I’ve seen him end up with Charlotte Lucas (Spoiler Alert: I did that myself in Teaching Eliza). Sometimes he is left a charming bachelor; sometimes he is sent off to war to die. Sometimes he’s the bad guy. He has even married Elizabeth! I can’t get enough of these stories, and most of them are terrific works.

But I wanted to explore something different for him. I wanted him to have his own fate, and not one tied so closely with that of his cousin Darcy. I set my imagination free.

Confession time: I started writing this novel a while ago. I began tinkering in 2019, and finished the first draft in 2020. Yes, it’s been sitting on my computer for that long. There has always been another project that’s taken priority, or something that I felt needed doing. Right now, I really should be finishing my next Miss Mary Investigates mystery, and that needs to move up to the top of my list after this story is ready to greet the world. But the poor colonel has been waiting for so long, and I really do want him to finally get his own Happily Ever After. (Is that a spoiler too? Nah, I think that one is okay.)

It’s interesting, looking at an unpolished piece that hasn’t seen daylight for a few years. I work hard at improving my writing. I listen to constructive criticism, I pay attention to what my editors say, I try to get to the bottom of what my beta readers tell me. As much as I want to be told I’m amazing and perfect, I know I’m not and the only way to improve is to listen to the hard stuff.

And, five-plus years later, I think I have learned a thing or two, because my first reaction upon reading the first couple of chapters of this novel was YIKES! And not a good YIKES. It’s not dreadful. But it’s not what I want it to be. Of course, a couple of rounds of edits would have fixed some of the problems, like using the same word several times in the same paragraph, but I have a lot of work to do to bring the general level of writing up to the standards I aspire to.

This is what editing is all about, after all, and I know I’m in excellent company in this stage or writing. And I’m going to give it my very best effort, because that’s what Colonel Fitzwilliam deserves, after all!

Here, still largely unedited, is a glimpse into part of chapter 1 of The Soldier’s Tale. I hope you enjoy it.

***

Darcy followed Richard’s example and finished his brandy. “But what of you? I have seen neither hide nor hair of you since you returned to London from Newmarket. If I did not notice my food costs doubling, I should not know you were living in my house.”

Richard pushed a hand through his light brown hair. “I was denied again. I completed my assignment with Colonel James at Newmarket and requested orders to somewhere important, and once again, Father stepped in with his unaccountable influence and had them refused.”

“He loves you, Richard, and does not wish to see you injured or killed in battle in some foreign place.”

“Aye, but I chose the military as my career, and I feel as useless as a pimple on Prinny’s backside. Training one set of green recruits after another how to walk in straight lines and which end of a musket to hold and which to load might be important for the Empire, but I feel like a nursemaid.” He took a deep breath. “I want to fight. I want to feel like I making a difference. But this is all for nought. I shall resign my commission forthwith regardless, and see about taking some land.”

This brought Darcy to attention. “You are resigning your commission? But this is what you wanted, from my earliest memories of you. What can you be about?”

Now Richard allowed a smile to break over his face. “I mean to be married, Darce! I mean to ask her tomorrow, and do what every good husband ought to do, which is dote upon his wife.”

“Who is it to be? Not the Ingalls girl? She is all feather and preening and no brain. You will not be happy with her.”

This brought a scowl to Richard’s face. “Not happy? She is perfectly sensible—I think—and she is a right beauty! She smiles at me as if I am the only man in the room. I shall be perfectly happy, exquisitely happy, with her. I shall leave off being Major Richard Fitzwilliam and we two shall be Mr. and Mrs. F, which I believe shall please us both greatly.”

“Be warned, Richard. She is not what she seems.”

“What? How do you know this? You have not graced the inside of a ballroom or soiree in two years or more. How can you possibly know of Miss Ingalls’ character? You say this to vex me!”

Darcy’s brows met in the centre of his forehead. “I am not quite the hermit you paint me to be, Richard.” He took another sip of his drink and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “Whilst you were playing nursemaid to the green recruits in Northampton, your dear mother did insist I join her for an evening or two. I met Miss Ingalls at some ball or another. My lack of social standing did not appeal to her, it seems.”

“YOUR lack of standing? But you are one of the wealthiest men in Derbyshire!”

The answering laugh was more of a grimace. “Wealthy, perhaps, but Miss Ingalls has her own fortune. No, cousin, she seeks a title.”

“Her father’s wealth came from trade. She is aiming high, is she not? Well, I have a great pedigree behind me. Father, for all his interfering nonsense in my career, is an earl, and the grandchildren of a peer will surely be able to marry very, very well. She need not fear on that account.” He frowned. “But what else have you against her? Speak. I would know it.”

Darcy put down his drink and stretched his long arms before replying. “It was at that very dance. With your mother at my side, and having made the introductions, I had no choice but to ask the young lady to dance. She smiled and batted her lashes, but the moment your esteemed mother stepped away, seeming to be pleased with her success, Miss Ingalls replied, ‘Your appearance and wealth are tolerable, I suppose, but you are not of great enough standing to tempt me.’ Those words are emblazoned upon my brain. And with that, she turned and left, without a word of parting.

“No, Richard, you shall not be happy with her.”

This brought a harrumph to the major’s lips. “Tomorrow I shall ask her, and tomorrow we shall have our answer. And now,” he said as he failed to stifle a yawn, “I really must be for bed. Let us talk later about Georgie. I will offer what advice I can, but shall bow to your decisions, for she is your sister.”

“Good night, then, and I wish you success in your appointment with Miss Ingalls tomorrow.”

***

What are you thoughts about Colonel F? Do you have a favourite match for him? What do you enjoy in a story that features him? I’d love to chat about it.