by Leenie Brown
“I will do nothing of the sort,” Darcy said. “We are going to Netherfield tomorrow.”
“I am not going,” Richard yelled at the back of his cousin’s retreating form.
Darcy turned from the door and went to stand beside Richard’s bed. “You are going to Netherfield even if I have to contact the apothecary to acquire a potion to render you insensible.”
There was no way as long as the sun still shone in the sky on a clear day that Darcy was going to allow his cousin to hide from life and lock his heart away.
“Perhaps that might be for the best anyway. It is not a short journey, and your injuries are not insignificant.” He turned, once again, to leave the room.
“Why?”
The pain in Richard’s tone kept Darcy from leaving, but he did not turn back to look at his cousin.
“Because Elizabeth is at Longbourn, and I will not allow you to separate me from her.” If Richard was unable to care for his own heart at present, perhaps he would be able to care about Darcy’s.
“Then go without me.”
That would not keep Darcy from the desire of his heart, but it would do nothing for Richard’s. It might be best to lay Richard’s heart before him and let his cousin know that Lydia was important not only to Richard but also to Darcy.
“And,” Darcy continued, “there is a young lady at Longbourn who loves you and was excessively concerned for you when I told her about my need to collect you. I gave her my word that I would return to Netherfield with you, and to return without you would mean I would have to break my word to her. I will not do that to her just as I would not break my word to you or Georgiana. Therefore, since I refuse to either break my word to her or to break her heart at your request, we are going to Netherfield in the morning after I have seen my steward. I suggest you try to get as much rest tonight as is possible.”
And with those words, Darcy left his cousin. He leaned against the wall outside Richard’s door. An injured family member was a great worry, but when the happiness of both that family member and another hung precariously in the balance, the weight of it all was nearly too much to bear. How he missed Elizabeth and her comforting presence!
He pushed off the wall and headed to his study. A concoction to help Richard sleep during their journey was indeed a good idea. Therefore, a note needed to be sent to the apothecary.
He sighed. The note to the apothecary would be easily written. The other letter which must be sent would not be so easily done. Lydia needed to be informed about the extent of Richard’s injuries. Darcy knew he could write directly to her. No one would think anything of it. However, there was the matter of Richard’s refusal to return to Netherfield that weighed more heavily on Darcy than any scar or loss of uniform. And because of that, he would write to Elizabeth. She would know how best to share all of this information with her sister.
“Mr. Jarvis,” Darcy said when handing the missives he had written to his butler to be delivered, “my cousin is not in favour of leaving with me tomorrow. While I do not think he is well enough to manage such a feat as stealing away in the night, I prefer not to be surprised by his tenacity. Therefore, if you would inform those who need to know, that Colonel Fitzwilliam is not to be allowed to leave the house, and he is most certainly not to be given a horse or carriage for his use.” It was unsettling to have to give such orders regarding his cousin. “Again, I do not expect him to attempt an escape, but I do wish to be prepared.”
“It is the colonel, sir. I remember him as a boy. There is not much that could keep him from his plans.”
Darcy chuckled. It was true. Richard had never been the sort to simply sit around and do as he was told.
Darcy thanked Mr. Jarvis for his understanding and then settled in a favourite chair in his study to read – or as it turned out, to look at a book with the pretense of reading while he pondered his cousin.
~*~*~
The next day, Richard glared at Darcy while Darcy attempted to ignore his cousin’s displeasure at waking to find himself in the carriage. The potion the apothecary had delivered had worked well.
“Would you like another dose of medicine?” Darcy inquired.
“You know that I do not,” Richard snapped. “I would like to be in a comfortable bed rather than this carriage.”
“As would I,” Darcy agreed, shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable. The carriage had been fitted with a board and mattress so that Richard could sit without bending his legs and if he bent his knees, it was not entirely impossible to lie down. Lying down would help with the dizziness and give his shoulder and side more rest.
“Aunt Catherine called at Netherfield the day before I received news of your injury.” That bit of news should distract Richard from his displeasure with Darcy, and likely place it with someone else.
“Why would she call on Bingley?”
As Darcy expected, Richard was too curious to let a disagreeable mood keep him from discovering what he wanted to know.
“She was calling on me. It seems Mrs. Collins – Mr. Collins is Elizabeth’s cousin who is Lady Catherine’s parson if you remember.”
Richard assured Darcy that he remembered that fact before Darcy continued.
“As it happens, Mrs. Collins had a letter from her mother, Lady Lucas, who is a particular friend of Mrs. Bennet and in that letter was news of my betrothal to someone other than our cousin Anne.”
Richard rubbed his chin as he let out a long, low whistle.
“Indeed,” Darcy agreed. “She was not pleased to hear the news and even less pleased that your father would not support her in her desire to see me marry Anne.”
“She went to my father first?”
Darcy nodded. “Do you know that Dash took an immediate liking to her?”
“To Aunt Catherine?” Richard cried incredulously.
Again, Darcy nodded. “Well, that is he liked her right up until she spoke harshly to his Miss Lydia. Then, he asserted himself on Miss Lydia’s behalf.”
The sound of carriage wheels and horse’s hooves were the only thing heard inside Darcy’s travelling coach for a full minute before Richard asked what Darcy expected.
“Aunt Catherine spoke harshly to Miss Lydia?”
For a third time, Darcy nodded.
“About what?”
“You.”
Richard’s brow furrowed.
“Miss Lydia had just received a letter from you and gave it to me to read when she arrived at Netherfield.” He looked Richard in the eye. “Apparently, Miss Lydia is not good enough for the son of an earl.”
Anger flashed in Richard’s eyes just as Darcy hoped it would.
“I assured Miss Lydia that you were not inconstant,” Darcy continued. “I do hope I have not misspoken.”
Again, the carriage fell silent. Darcy pretended to attend to his book while surreptitiously studying his cousin who was clearly battling a mix of emotions.
“I also told Aunt Catherine that she was not welcome in my home if she were to continue to speak poorly of one of my sisters, and then, I sent her back to your father.”
Richard’s eyes grew wide.
“Have you not spoken to your father about Miss Lydia?” Darcy asked in surprise.
“No. I was going to write to him about her. There was not time to speak to him before I left town.” He blew out a breath. “I suppose he must know by now.”
“Most likely. Aunt Catherine is not one to keep news such as that to herself.”
Richard groaned.
“Would you like some medicine now?” Darcy asked with a grin.
“No, but if you have some brandy, I will not refuse it.”
Chapter 12
Lydia was sitting in the garden on the same bench she had sat on for each of the days since she had heard of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s injury. From that bench, Elizabeth knew that Lydia could see the drive, and, therefore, she could see who was or was not arriving. At least, today, Lydia’s good friend, Maria Lucas, had joined her whil
e, in Longbourn’s sitting room, their mothers discussed all the dreadful possibilities that might be the result of any injury sustained in battle.
“Might we go out as well?” Georgiana asked as she joined Elizabeth near the window.
“I must apologize for my mother’s choice of topic for discussion,” Elizabeth whispered. “Did you and Kitty have as much time to practise as you wished?”
Georgiana wore a pleased smile as she nodded. “Kitty is almost able to play that song without a single stumble.”
The pride of accomplishment mingled with the joy of hearing oneself praised in Kitty’s expression. “I have never played anything so well, to be honest.”
Georgiana had been accompanying Bingley each day when he came to call on Jane. She and Kitty would find some excuse to not be in the sitting room. On one day, they had read lines from a play, on another day, they had pored over fashion magazines while examining the content of Kitty’s wardrobe to see what alterations could be made to various dresses to make them more fashionable, and today, they had spent time working on a song Kitty wished to learn to play and sing.
Mrs. Bennet’s voice had dropped to a whisper when Georgiana had entered the sitting room, but even when whispering Mrs. Bennet’s voice carried.
“It is a true marvel what a bit of practice can do,” Elizabeth teased. “Perhaps one day I shall try it.” She wrapped one arm around Kitty’s and the other around Georgiana’s. “But I have no desire to practise today. The sun is warm, and I think Georgiana’s suggestion to join Lydia is a very good one.”
The three young ladies exited the sitting room and gathered their things to go to the garden. Just as they were starting down the path to where Lydia sat, she jumped up and, after a hasty word to her friend, ran toward the front of the house.
Elizabeth hurried to Maria. “What is it?”
“An express rider,” Maria said, pointing to the front of the house.
“It is for Elizabeth,” Lydia cried, waving the missive in the air.
“For me?” Elizabeth went to meet her sister. Taking the letter, she looked at the address and then, with a smile, broke the seal.
“What does it say?” Lydia asked anxiously. “Has Mr. Darcy seen his cousin?”
“He misses me.”
“Yes, yes. But what of his cousin?” Lydia was wringing her hands and pacing in front of the bench on which she had been sitting as Elizabeth took a seat and continued to read.
“Oh! I can tell by your face it is not good,” Lydia cried. “Will he live?”
“He is not in danger of dying,” Elizabeth assured her. “However…” she paused. How was she supposed to share this information with her sister? Darcy had far more faith in her abilities to do so than she did herself. However, he had entrusted her with this news, and she would see it done. She placed the letter in her lap and, leaned forward to grasp Lydia’s hand. “Sit with me.”
Lydia did as she was told.
Elizabeth picked up the letter once more and scanned its content. Her protective nature told her to only reveal the bits and pieces that would not be too distressing while her rational nature told her that doing so would only lead to a greater possibility of being hurt later.
“If the colonel were to ask you to marry him, would you?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes,” Lydia cried.
“Then you believe yourself capable of facing troubles as a grown lady should?” Elizabeth asked.
“I am not a child.”
The pout that accompanied the words did little to convince Elizabeth of their truth, but she chose to ignore that thought.
“Very well. You may read the entire letter.” Elizabeth handed it to Lydia but did not release it. “Of course, the parts about Mr. Darcy’s love for me are not to be part of any gossip.”
Lydia nodded, and Elizabeth released her hold on the letter.
“There are a few new plants beginning to push through the soil,” Kitty said.
“Indeed?” Georgiana asked.
Kitty nodded. “I saw them yesterday. They were not more than a few green specks in the dirt. Would you and Maria like to join me to see how much they have grown between then and now?” She smiled at Elizabeth. “I am certain after Lydia has had a read of Mr. Darcy’s letter, the news that needs to be told to us will be shared.”
“I would not withhold any important information,” Elizabeth assured them. “Thank you,” she mouthed to Kitty as the three young ladies moved down the path.
“Mr. Darcy does love you very much,” Lydia whispered.
“And he loves you as you will see by his concern.” Lydia was about to read the account of the colonel’s unwillingness to travel to Netherfield.
Lydia’s hand flew to her chest. “Stay at Pemberley?”
Elizabeth rubbed her back.
“Find another? Not wish to marry him?” She turned troubled eyes to Elizabeth. “How could he think such things?”
“How is not the right question,” Elizabeth replied. “Why is the better choice.”
Lydia brushed tears from her cheeks with the palm of her right hand while her left clutched the letter. Gently, Elizabeth took the letter from her and handed her a handkerchief.
“I will read this part to you.”
Lydia nodded.
I cannot blame him for his troubled thinking, but I will not allow him to hide from his heart.
Elizabeth put an arm around Lydia’s shoulders and squeezed her close. “You are the colonel’s heart,” she whispered before continuing to read.
Therefore, I am bringing him to Netherfield whether he wishes it or not.
When you see the state he is in; I am certain you, too, will understand his wish to remain in seclusion. He has several injuries. One of his injuries has rendered his left arm useless until it heals. He has several stitches to close wounds on his side and his upper leg. In addition to these things, he sustained an injury to his head that currently affects his eyesight. However, I do not believe any of those, save perhaps the head injury (which I will explain later), are the cause of his wish to hide.
It is his face. He has a small scar above his eye which we knew from one of his letters, as well as new large gash from his ear to his mouth on the right side of his face. It is, of course, bruised, red, and still being held closed by stitches. I will not lie to you or your sister. It looks as gruesome as you might imagine it. However, with time, it will heal.
He told me to describe this injury to your sister as an explanation of why she would not wish to marry him. In addition to that, he added that he might lose his position in the regulars. That is the part which has to do with the blow he received to his head. If his eyesight does not improve, he will not be fit to serve. He sees this as another reason why your sister might not wish to marry him.
Elizabeth peeked at Lydia who was shaking her head while silently crying.
He feels he has little to offer Miss Lydia. Little but his heart! Not that he is capable of seeing that at present. It is this knowledge that keeps me from truly being angry with him. As his body heals, so will his spirit.
I did not know how to impart such information to your sister, and so I am trusting you to inform her of these details as you see fit. My heart grieves both for her and Richard.
I am eager to see you, my love. Until I arrive at Netherfield, hold my sisters close and care for them for me.
“And that is all there is,” Elizabeth pulled Lydia close again. “Mr. Darcy said to hold his sisters – sisters – close,” she whispered. “He cares for you very much, Lydia.”
Lydia nodded.
“As does his cousin. Such injuries would cause anyone to falter and think of themselves as not good enough.”
“But he is,” Lydia whispered. “He is good enough.” She drew a deep breath through her nose and released it slowly through her mouth. “It is as Papa said. Colonel Fitzwilliam is not the person who gets to decide if he is good enough for me.” She turned toward Elizabeth with a determined look in her
eye. “Only I get to decide that.”
“He will be scarred and not as handsome as he was, and he might not have a uniform any longer,” Elizabeth cautioned, not because she wished to dissuade her sister from thinking the colonel was good enough but to test Lydia’s resolve. A handsome gentleman in a uniform – the higher the rank, the better — had always been Lydia’s ideal for who would make a good husband.
“I am not stupid,” Lydia muttered.
“No, you are not, but will you feel cheated by his injuries? It would not be wrong to feel something about them.”
Kitty, Georgiana, and Maria were making their way toward the house. Apparently, someone – likely Kitty – had decided they should not return to Elizabeth and Lydia at present. Elizabeth had to admit she was pleased to see such conscientiousness developing in Kitty. Kitty had not always considered much more than what Lydia’s thoughts on a subject might be, or how something would make her look. However, it seemed all of Elizabeth’s sisters were becoming grown women in more than just age and appearance.
She squeezed Lydia’s shoulders once more. Who would have thought that Mr. Darcy, along with his cousin and sister, would be the one to work such miracles? She smiled as she thought of him standing at the edge of the assembly in the fall, looking down his nose at everyone around him. How he had improved upon greater acquaintance!
“Are you ready to go in?” Elizabeth whispered.
Lydia rose, dried her eyes and nose once more, straightened her shoulders, and lifted her chin.
Elizabeth wound her arm around Lydia’s, and they took their time returning to the house. Just as they were about to enter through the servant’s entrance, Lydia stopped.
“I am scared,” she whispered when Elizabeth turned toward her. “What if I am not as good as you or Jane?”
“What do you mean? Neither Jane nor I are better than you.”
“Oh, you are!” Lydia cried. “You think about things that are not fashion.”
“That does not make us better.”
Lydia looked at the ground. “What if I discover I am not the kind of lady who can love someone who is not handsome?”
