“You mean, we’ve offered more compassion than you would have, under similar circumstances?”
He grimaced, showing her barb hit. “I would not have been impolite to a younger sister of an acquaintance who was similarly affected, but I would have ensured no further contact with her. Or with him, if he pressed the issue.”
“And now?” Elizabeth pressed.
“Now, I would seek to find the truth, not let rumor define my view. I should also endeavor to judge the characters of those involved, not shun them due to general opinion.”
Elizabeth allowed a smile. “You truly have learned.” Dare she bring up his insult? Were they going to be amiable, his words must no longer linger between them. He’d stung her pride. As much as she wished to, Elizabeth could not forgive him. She was not so magnanimous as Charlotte. Still, if she must coax an apology from him, would he mean his words?
“There is also my behavior in specific,” Mr. Darcy said into the silence.
“Oh?” Her heart took up a disconcerting, strong beat.
“Let me take this opportunity to apologize to you.” His voice held an odd tension. “I am sorry that I said you are not beautiful enough to dance with. If I did not wish to dance, I should have sat down and conversed with some of the local populace. There was no reason for me to insult you. Richard and Georgiana rightfully reproached me for my behavior.”
Her heart resumed a more normal beat. It wasn’t the apology she’d hoped for, but she suspected the words were difficult for him, which meant she should be gracious. “Your apology is accepted.”
He halted his stride. Elizabeth stopped and turned back to face him, expression questioning.
“Thank you.”
She tried to smile, but a tremor swept through her at the intensity of his gaze. “You do not need to thank me for accepting an apology, sir.”
“I believe I do. I also believe my apology is not complete.” He held out a hand.
Unable to suppress her trembling, or even pinpoint the source, she placed her hand in his. Instantly, she became acutely aware of the layers of gloves between them. Looking up, she searched his face. Was he likewise affected? Did he feel how her fingers shook?
“Now I may offer the second portion of my apology.” He pressed her fingers gently. “You are very beautiful. To say what I said, I must have been blind. I—”
A call behind them caused them both to whirl. Elizabeth’s hand fell to her side. Lydia, the source of the call and far behind them on the roadway, waved to a group of riders.
Elizabeth glanced toward Mr. Darcy to take in his frown. Unaccountably, for they’d done nothing wrong, her face heated. She willed the warmth away before he could turn back.
“I believe that to be the two Mr. Fitzwilliams and Bingley,” Mr. Darcy said, voice chagrined. “Miss Bingley’s purchase must have been easily achieved.”
“Apparently so.” Elizabeth felt pleasure that her voice sounded normal, for her heart beat fiercely once more. What words had Mr. Darcy been about to speak?
The gentlemen came abreast of Lydia, their greetings indistinct, then passed her to head toward Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. When Elizabeth glanced back up the road, she found her father and Mr. Collins had halted. They must have observed the approaching riders, for Mr. Collins turned his mount and headed back toward Elizabeth and Darcy. Collins reached them moments before Mr. Bingley and the Fitzwilliam brothers.
“Darcy,” Mr. Bingley said as they drew abreast. “The delivery has not yet arrived with Caroline’s order.”
“So I suggested we catch up to you.” As he spoke, Richard Fitzwilliam’s gaze moved from Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth, and back again. “Perhaps I erred.”
Mr. Darcy’s customary frown turned down his mouth. Elizabeth wished she could smooth the expression away. “No. How could that be an error?” he asked.
The Fitzwilliam twins exchanged an amused look. “I suppose it couldn’t be.”
“Perhaps now we may all call on Longbourn?” Mr. Bingley exuded hope.
Elizabeth forced a smile and nodded, though she wished nothing more than a continuation of Mr. Darcy’s words. “Certainly. My mother will be very pleased to see you all.” Her smile grew in sincerity. “As will Jane.”
“I am pleased, too,” Lydia said, reaching them. “It means no more sewing.”
The gentlemen dismounted to walk with them, Mr. Darcy taking the reins of his horse from Mr. Collins, who hurried to rejoin Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth fell in step with Mr. Darcy once more, Mr. Bingley on her other side. She supposed she should be pleased to be in the company of two amiable men, instead of wishing for only one.
Behind them on the roadway, Lydia walked between the Fitzwilliam twins. “Do you think you’ll ever retake your commission?”
“I do not believe so,” Richard Fitzwilliam said.
Elizabeth shook her head. Her youngest sister possessed a very single mind.
“Do you intend to serve, Mr. Walter?” Lydia asked.
“I do not, Miss Lydia,” Mr. Walter Fitzwilliam said.
Even from her position up the roadway, between a now silent Mr. Darcy and an eager-faced Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth could hear Lydia’s despondent sigh.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Darcy wondered when they would get word of the duel or, alternately, confirmation of Mr. Collins and Miss Kitty Bennet wedding, which would somewhat tell the morning’s tale. Of course, there was no reason for anyone to send word of either event to Netherfield Park, but nearly everyone there eagerly awaited news. Even Miss Bingley feigned an interest, for she’d latched onto Walter’s advances quite willingly, and proceeded to evidence care for anything he did.
In view of her shift in devotion, Darcy had briefly wondered if she knew about Walter’s financial situation. Based on their interactions, he’d concluded she did, but valued another advantage Walter offered more than she did a fortune. As a close neighbor to his older brother, and on excellent terms with him, Walter gave Miss Bingley something neither Darcy nor Richard could; direct and frequent access to Sir Arthur, Earl of Matlock and his association with other members of the peerage.
As the morning wore on, Darcy became increasingly agitated. He wondered if he should send out for news. He wanted to be available to console Elizabeth if she required consoling. Mr. Collins’ death would plunge the family into weeks of morning, perhaps even months if they decided to honor him as if the wedding planned for after the duel actually took place. After one visit of condolence, Elizabeth would be absent from those events at which Darcy customarily met her, possibly for some time.
Darcy scanned the room and took in a general disquiet. He felt certain that Bingley held thoughts regarding Miss Bennet that were similar to his regarding Elizabeth. Richard’s and Walter’s interests were more martial, but Mr. Hurst required the outcome for his gambling venture. Georgiana, appearing particularly nervous, likely felt the outcome would affect her reputation, which it would, even though logically it should not. Only Mrs. Hurst seemed unconcerned.
When Netherfield’s butler showed Colonel Forster into the parlor, all movement paused. Miss Bingley broke off mid-sentence. Richard’s hand halted with a card halfway to the tabletop. Even Mrs. Hurst paused mid-stitch to look up. Darcy and the other gentlemen stood to greet the colonel.
“Refreshments, sir?” Miss Bingley asked as they were all seated.
From the chair across from Darcy, Colonel Forster shook his head. “No thank you. I shall be brief.”
“Don’t leave us in suspense, Colonel,” Bingley said when the man didn’t continue. “What happened?”
“No deaths, no serious injuries.” Colonel Forster did not sound pleased, though Darcy counted the news as good. “If you remember, it was finally agreed that the duel was going to be fought until they were well-bloodied.” About the room, eager faces nodded. “Mr. Collins was injured first. A scratch on his cheek. Collins became enraged.” Forster shook his head. “Rarely have I seen the like. Collins’ onslaught forced Wickham out o
f the area marked off for the bout.”
Mr. Hurst let out an exclamation of delight. “Wickham lost.”
Colonel Forster nodded. “And more than lost. He kept retreating. Many cried to Collins that he’d won, but he would not halt his pursuit. Wickham tripped and fell. Collins stood over him and roared that he should admit he’d lied. Wickham did so. Even though the only blood drawn was Mr. Collins’, he was declared the winner.”
Satisfaction eased tension from Darcy’s frame. Elizabeth’s sister would have her husband, Georgiana’s reputation would be somewhat restored, and Wickham had shown his true nature.
Colonel Forster’s hard look didn’t waver. “I was so upset by Wickham’s cowardice, that I confronted him to demand clarification. One by one, Wickham’s lies were exposed.” Forster turned to face Darcy directly, expression morphing into a look of apology. “He knew who held the living. He did conspire with Miss Darcy’s governess to persuade your sister to elope. Miss Darcy did tell him repeatedly that she would not. He also admitted that you and others have paid his debts.”
Darcy’s sister wore a look of satisfaction. Walter let out a low whistle and he and Richard exchanged a glance. Bingley appeared startled, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst wore matching expressions of condemnation. Mr. Hurst didn’t seem to have heard anything beyond the declaration of Wickham’s loss. He’d pulled out a small ledger and eagerly consulted the pages.
Darcy offered Colonel Forster a nod, surprised how pleasant vindication felt.
“There is more.” Colonel Forster sat forward in his chair. “You should know that Mr. Wickham admitted to providing information to a one Mr. Blackmore.” Forster turned to Richard. “The man you slew in Kent, sir.”
Richard’s countenance went flinty. “Did Wickham know Blackmore intended to kidnap Miss de Bourgh?”
“He confessed only to providing information so the man might court your cousin.” Colonel Forster shrugged. “As some of his other transgressions involve theft, for which Mr. Darcy could press to have him hung, I feel he told the truth.”
“Thefts?” Georgiana repeated, startled.
“Darcy would never have Wickham hung for theft and he knows as much,” Richard stated. He offered Darcy a look that clearly bespoke of his lack of faith in Wickham’s protestations. “Regardless, I am willing to consider the matter involving Blackmore closed. Darcy?”
“You are Anne’s champion and master of Rosings. If you see the matter as closed, it is closed.”
Richard gave a sharp nod. “Please continue, Colonel. What thefts did Mr. Wickham report?”
Colonel Forster sat back in his chair again and began to list various other misdeeds to which Wickham had admitted. The colonel ended with, “Wickham’s cowardice exonerates you, Mr. Darcy. I am sorry I doubted your honor.”
***
Elizabeth leaned against the doorframe to the room Kitty once shared with Lydia. Lydia’s possessions occupied the full of the space now, strewn about haphazardly. Ignoring the mess, Elizabeth smiled. Kitty had set off for her new home with Mr. Collins. She hadn’t coughed once since he won the duel, dutifully described and re-described by Mr. Bennet, and directly followed by Kitty and Mr. Collins’ nuptials. Elizabeth had never seen Kitty so happy.
A commotion sounded in the foyer. Elizabeth eased the door closed, for Lydia wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion, and went to ascertain the source of the ruckus. As she drew near the staircase, she clearly heard Mr. Bingley greet her mother. Mr. Darcy’s voice followed, and Elizabeth hurried her stride.
She came down the steps to find Mr. Darcy looking up, seeking her. When their gazes met, a smile formed on his lips. Elizabeth didn’t hide her own. The world seemed a lighter place now that Mr. Darcy had apologized to her, Miss Darcy’s reputation was upheld, and Mr. Collins had emerged all but unscathed from the duel.
“…in and have tea,” Mrs. Bennet was saying, directing her words at Miss Darcy, who stood between Mr. Bingley and her brother.
“We hoped to invite Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to walk with us,” Mr. Bingley replied. “I believe Miss Darcy may care for tea.”
“That would be lovely,” Miss Darcy agreed. “I should enjoy visiting with you and Miss Lydia.”
“May we, Mama?” Jane asked, just out of sight behind their mother.
“Walk? Yes. Of course. I will gladly keep Miss Darcy and Lydia company. You walk.”
“I’ll fetch Lizzy and my bonnet.”
Not until Jane appeared around the corner and started up the steps did Elizabeth realize she had stilled the moment her gaze met Mr. Darcy’s, and hadn’t yet continued down.
Jane smiled up at her. “Lizzy, there you are. Fetch your bonnet. We’re to walk with the gentlemen.”
Elizabeth dutifully turned around and headed back up the steps. When a few weeks ago it would have displeased her not to have her wishes sought, to simply be thrown together with Mr. Darcy so that Jane might have time with Mr. Bingley, now, Elizabeth knew pleasure. She looked forward to a walk with Mr. Darcy by her side.
In short order, they were reassembled in the foyer. Mrs. Bennet had withdrawn into the parlor, where she, Lydia and Miss Darcy could be heard. From deeper in the room, Mary’s pianoforte practice sounded. A footman opened the door and Mr. Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm.
The day proved sun-filled, though Elizabeth would have walked with Mr. Darcy in wind or rain. As they both preferred a quicker pace, they soon outdistanced Jane and Mr. Bingley. A light breeze ruffled Elizabeth’s curls. Mr. Darcy’s arm was solid and warm beneath her hand. They headed along a path that would skirt the meadow and take them to a high bluff, where the view should be particularly fine. A feeling of contentment stole through her.
“Colonel Forster reported the duel to us,” Mr. Darcy said as the path curved to skirt an ancient elm.
“Father reported it to us. Mr. Collins proved too agitated to convey his own story. Kitty took him aside to tend the cut on his cheek.”
“Disfiguring, or a romantic scar?” Mr. Darcy’s tone held amusement.
“I believe it shall be romantic, especially to Kitty.”
“Then perhaps Mr. Collins deems the entire escapade worthwhile.”
Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow. “I should hope so. From it, he proved his bravery and gained Kitty.”
“And I am exonerated.”
Elizabeth tried to school her expression. Mr. Darcy’s actions were not on trial, or shouldn’t be, but those in the community who’d sided with Wickham had also believed his lies about Mr. Darcy denying him the living, among other slights. They must now take Mr. Darcy at his word, which was good, except that she refused to see a test of arms as a fair trial. “It’s all a bit…” She sought a word less offensive than ‘idiotic.’ “Nonsensical.”
“I agree.” He scanned the horizon, thoughtful. “This duel has been strange from the start. From what I understand, Mr. Collins declared Mr. Wickham’s offense as not being properly respectful of my father.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Ignoring whether Mr. Wickham was guilty of conspiring to persuade a fifteen-year-old girl to elope because she has a large dowry. That would be wrong regardless of the identity of the girl’s father.”
“And may I assume, given your view of dueling, that you object to the general agreement that Wickham’s defeat proves his guilt?”
“I do.” Although she was certain Mr. Wickham stood in the wrong, she wished Mr. Darcy to acknowledge the folly of employing a contest of arms to ascertain rightness. “He could fight well and be guilty or fight poorly and be innocent.”
Beside her, Mr. Darcy stiffened. “He made a full confession. Didn’t your father share with you all to which Mr. Wickham admitted?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “He mentioned that Colonel Forster and the other officers took Wickham aside and they spoke at length, but Father was occupied with Mr. Collins.” They crested a hill. “But even a confession should be suspect. Mr. Wickham might have confessed to things he didn’t do because he
was frightened.”
Mr. Darcy halted them at the top of the hill. “Do you doubt my good behavior in all this?”
Elizabeth cast him a surprised look. “You know I do not. I have said as much. I simply wish you to acknowledge a flawed system of reasoning. What if a woman with no male relations were wronged? She cannot stand against a gentleman. Is she, then, automatically guilty? What of a father who dare not risk death and the subsequent abandonment of his children? There are many reasons a contest of arms might end in a way that has nothing to do with right or wrong.”
Mr. Darcy frowned. “I agree, dueling is not the best way to discover the truth, but in this case, in main part due to Wickham’s cowardliness, the practice proved a success.”
“And due to Mr. Collins’ bravery, which he may not have found. He could easily have proved the coward.” She smiled wryly. “I am saddened to admit, I assumed he would.”
“You are correct, of course.” Mr. Darcy studied her face. “Dueling is a flawed way to determine a man’s honesty.”
“Thank you.” She tamped down her elation at his agreement, not wishing him to see her gloat, and turned them and started back toward the bluff, asking, “To what else did Mr. Wickham confess?”
“Quite a number of things, including some of which I was not aware.”
“Oh dear.” Perhaps there was some slight validity to dueling, if guilt had weighed so harsh on Mr. Wickham’s conscience that he could not win. “He’s committed even more transgressions than you realized?”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “I’d no idea about the pilfering. Twice, he took small but valuable items found in our home and hid them with the intention of selling them if they went unmissed.”
“And did he sell them?”
“My mother noticed the absence of her earrings. I should have been more suspicious when Wickham managed to find them for her, under a sofa in the parlor. The second item was a gold picture frame with a miniature painting of my great grandmother. The picture wasn’t missed so he sold it.”
A Duel in Meryton Page 21
