Twixt Two Equal Armies

by Gail McEwen

  To his surprise, Mrs Tournier only smiled distantly as her hand rose up to the locket around her neck. A few moments’ reflection brought a change however, and with slightly narrowed eyes she turned again to Lord Baugham.

  “Well then, with such a happy ending to such a bizarre affair, I trust that you will keep all other . . . impulses you may have under good regulation henceforth?”

  Holly blushed scarlet at this and was about to sputter a protest, but his lordship merely smiled.

  “You have my word as a gentleman. I will treat your daughter with all the respect, honour and dignity that such a lady as she is, deserves and if she scolds me for my numerous trespasses — old and new — I will only love her more.”

  The smells of cooking dinner wafted their way through the house and into the study, reminding Holly that she had been unable to eat very much at the wedding breakfast. More than ready for a proper meal, she scrambled up from the floor.

  “You will stay to dinner, my . . . my lord? I shall just inform my aunt . . . ” before giving two separate hands a squeeze and exiting the room.

  Holly delivered her message quickly and did not stay around for the inevitable torrent of questions from her aunt, instead she slipped down the darkened hallway into the empty morning room. It was dim and cold, but she needed a moment alone to think and reflect. The events of the day had been so sudden, so wonderful and so surprising that she could scarcely believe them to be real — only the little bit of twisted willow and the very real recollection of the feeling of his arms around her was proof that it all had actually happened. She thought wistfully of Elizabeth, wishing that she was still there so she could share her joy with her dear cousin — but with a smile and a blush, she realised that Elizabeth most certainly would not wish to be back at Longbourn this night.

  So instead, with the sounds of her Aunt Bennet’s frantic preparations for a distinguished and unexpected dinner guest in the background, she closed her eyes, remembering his words, his looks, his embrace . . . and she allowed herself a child-like bounce or two and a tiny squeal of joy before collecting herself once again and slipping out, returning to the warmth of the occupied rooms. She paused outside the door to the study, smiling as she realised that she needn’t have closed her eyes to see him, he was waiting for her just inside. He turned at the sound of the opening door and looked at her with such affection that she wondered if it were possible for a person to expire from sheer happiness — if it were so, she thought, there was a very real danger she would never live to see the morrow.

  THE DINNER WAS A QUIET affair. The events of the day had effectively quelled any need for joyous outbursts and loud congratulations. It seemed, to everyone, there had been an abundance of them already and all were content with sitting back and admiring the one happy couple left for them to study. In keeping with the day’s events, it certainly seemed nothing but logical and right that young love should not completely abandoned Longbourn all in one sweep. Mrs Bennet could not help sending wistful looks down to Miss Catherine, but then the inclination to be content with the more distant family connection to a peer overtook her and that night, when she sent for the after dinner fruit and sweets, she was actually a very happy and fulfilled woman.

  Holly hardly looked at her lover all through dinner, but she could feel him sending her frequent looks and smiles between his easy chatter to her mother and Uncle. She smiled almost continually herself and felt a warm glow of contentment inside. The day had been a long one and an evening spent in polite conversation in a parlour was to neither Holly’s nor Lord Baugham’s tastes. Holly felt she needed to catch her breath and Lord Baugham felt like he needed to catch his equilibrium in quiet. It had been a revolutionary day and the feeling of happy exhaustion was enough to send his lordship back to Netherfield earlier than expected.

  “Oh!” Holly said just before they reached the door to take a long drawn-out farewell away from the prying eyes and formal rituals of the parlour. “I completely forgot. I meant to ask you, I tried to find you at breakfast, but you had disappeared. Why?”

  He smiled. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. Two more minutes and I would have bitten Mr Bingley’s infuriatingly smug and happy head off. People kept expecting me to concentrate on the wedded couples and all I could do was to gawk at you. It was embarrassing.”

  “I never noticed you gawking at me.”

  “Well, I was. I still am.”

  A satisfied smile appeared on her face, “Hm.”

  After such a day and evening, Holly was not able to accompany him outside and say the goodbye she would wish to. She had to content herself with his offering of a tender kiss on her cheek and a squeeze of her hand on the threshold . . . and a kiss to the forehead . . . and softly running his finger along her cheek and under her chin . . . and a tug on a loose curl . . . and a kiss to her hand . . . then to each finger . . . until the rattling of a newspaper and the sharp sound of a closing book in the parlour, not to mention the giggles from down the hallway, made them recall the presence of numerous chaperones in the house.

  “Right. Well, then,” he said, as he at last stepped out into the night, donning his hat, “Good night . . . Holly.”

  There was a draught from the open door, but Holly could not bring herself to close it completely.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “And will you be early?”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  “It seems such a long time away. I wish it were morning already.”

  “Yes.” He leaned in over her and kissed her soundly. “You sleep well. You will need all your strength and patience when I call again. Tomorrow. Early.”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  He started moving towards the carriage and she was suddenly struck by a practical question.

  “Oh . . . dearest?” she said, hesitating a little while taking a few steps out into the courtyard. “What do I call you now?”

  He turned around just before getting into his vehicle and a smile broke out over his features. “Whatever you like. As always,” he said and waved goodbye.

  Holly wrapped her shawl around her and watched the carriage leave with a strange warm feeling rushing all through her. “Dearest,” she whispered. “As always . . . ”

  That night Mrs Tournier once again subjected her daughter to her one hundred in silence before bedtime. Sometimes, when the whole world changes, old routines become all the more precious and important. There’s no need to mourn them as such, but obeying them one more time takes on a significance that can only be seen and known when they will soon disappear from our daily lives forever.

  LORD BAUGHAM SAUNTERED INTO THE lower drawing rooms at Netherfield whistling a ditty that was distinctly romantic in nature and happy in its tune, dealing — he seemed to recall — with the delights of a shepherd boy being able to steal a kiss from the dairy maid and in French, no less. It was an empty house with the staff having been allowed to take advantage of their Master’s big day and early departure for his honeymoon to some other part of the country. But Miss Bingley sat in front of the fire, deeply immersed, it seemed, in a solitary game of Patience.

  Baugham sank down in the sofa and gave her a happy wink of his eye. Miss Bingley looked slightly taken aback, but continued her careful placing of the cards before addressing him.

  “So,” she said slowly, “here we are.”

  “Oh yes!” he said, but he could not stop thinking of the last bit of verse he could remember. “Si tu le veut, ah, tant mieux!” And he hummed a little of the remaining chorus.

  “You look very sly, my lord,” Miss Bingley said. “I wouldn’t suppose it has anything to do with your successful evasion of the last hour of the wedding breakfast?”

  “Oh, Miss Bingley. Nothing escapes you!” Baugham said cheerfully. “Are you telling me you did not enjoy it?”

  Miss Bingley abandoned her cards and looked thoughtfully at him. “I must confess,” she said carefully, “I am not over
ly fond of country weddings, never having had much experience of them. It is altogether a far too . . . public affair for my taste. It is, after all, a contract, an arrangement, a domestic issue, not a public ritual at all. And it so very vulgar to be gawked at by people one does not know and has no connection to. Though, at such events it is vulgar to be gawked at even by people one does have a connection to, I suppose.”

  “I certainly agree with you there,” Baugham said. “There is something to be said for private ceremonies.”

  “Ye-es.” Miss Bingley smiled. “Special licences really are a God send.”

  “An expensive God send,” Baugham said, but was now looking at her with interest.

  “Of course,” Miss Bingley agreed. A little smile played around her lips as she turned back to her pursuit. “Oh, but it really was a lovely wedding all the same. As far as country weddings go, I suppose. And dear Jane was such a lovely sight to behold. I think . . . yes, I am quite certain we shall be the best of friends and the happiest of sisters!”

  “And what about you, Miss Bingley?” Baugham asked. “It seems Netherfield has a new and benevolent Mistress. How will you take to that?”

  “Oh . . . ” Miss Bingley shuffled together her cards and gave a little laugh. “I love my family very much. We Bingleys are all very close and extremely fond of one another. That will surely not change regardless of this latest . . . addition to our family circle. Although, hopefully, within moderation as to certain extended family members.”

  She gave his lordship an exaggerated sigh and arched her eyebrows in a disgusted gesture. Baugham could very well see she wanted him to ask her meaning, but he found he had no wish to and so he ignored her. Instead he smiled to himself. He was beyond hope. He had no interest in gossip! Truly this had been a most extraordinary day!

  “Well,” his companion continued as no response was forthcoming, “the Bennets are what they are. All I am concerned about is dear Charles’ happiness. And I do think dear Jane will make him very happy.”

  “She seems to have a general talent for that,” Baugham smiled, “so your sentiments must be ever so slightly tainted by self-interest as well, I should think.”

  Miss Bingley did not wish to answer that so she took up her cards again.

  “Oh but I shall be very happy to quit the country, now that the deed is done,” she said. “It is such a strain on one’s nerves to be away at this time of year. I fancy I shall see you in Town soon as well, my lord?”

  Baugham could not help but let a smile break out on his features. “I think you shan’t have the privilege, my dear Miss Bingley,” he said. “You see, it seems I shall have to overcome my own dislike for country weddings and start busily arranging one of my own.”

  As he got up, he gave her another wink and his most brilliant smile and decided to make an early night of it in order to honour his promise to his country bride and be back at Longbourn again early the next morning.

  Chapter 35

  The Groom makes his Preparations to take Himself and his Bride north, which Receives a Mixed Reaction

  “Come and sit yourself down, my love, and let me confess my foolishness to you. Then we can see what you will call me today,” Baugham said and patted the window seat beside him in the small hall outside Mr Bennet’s study.

  Holly smiled and obliged him. “Although after what you just did to me I am inclined to be in a very charitable mood with you.”

  “And if I repeated my performance in front of your relations in the parlour, what would you do then? I confess I had a hard time waiting until I had you for myself, so I should like to know for future reference.”

  “I should most probably be forced to slap you, my lord, and then request you do it again twice in private.”

  Baugham laughed. “Very well. I might have to become a repeat offender because I was about to tell you I am about to desert you.”

  “You would not dare,” she said lightly, but with an incredulous pout.

  Baugham reached out and gently ran his finger over the creases of her frown, pleased that he now had the liberty to indulge in his earlier wishes of smoothing it away. “No, I would not, if I had not already made the arrangements to go north to Cumbermere right after the wedding. Today, in fact.”

  “Oh!” Holly said and could not help looking rather despondent.

  “My dearest little bee,” Baugham said softly and caressed her cheek. “If you only knew how much I adore your inability to disguise your feelings.”

  Holly smiled faintly. “I . . . It’s just, I had hoped — ”

  “So had I,” he sighed. “I don’t know what incredible stupidity made me go against my fondest hopes and wishes and fix an engagement on the other side of the Kingdom just when I was about to see you again.

  “But go I must, although I can well postpone it for a day or two and blame the weather, the roads, letters, social engagements, cleaning up after the bridal party . . . everything but the real reason.”

  They exchanged a lingering look and Baugham caught her hand and kissed it. “In fact, I do think Mr Tilman, my steward, would be shocked were I to promptly present myself at the expected hour. Mustn’t do that.”

  “Well, if you must go, you must go,” Holly said, a little placated by his obvious look of adoration and deciding she could well afford to be generous.

  “Well, my dear, I think that I am not alone in that. You, after all, must go, too.”

  Holly shrugged a little. Her mother had mentioned no plans and it seemed to her she was quite happy to sit in her brother’s study for a while yet.

  “Do you know what is my highest wish?” her betrothed muttered while still holding her hand to his lips.

  She was shaken out of her reverie and gave him an indulgent smile.

  “Oh, I see I have effectively destroyed my reputation for anything else than flirtation and courting,” he laughed. “Very well, I must redeem myself. I am going to adopt the role of Lord and Master sooner than you had ever imagined and will arrange for you and your mother to accompany me as far as Nottingham. Can you live with that?” he asked more softly.

  Her smile told him she was quite happy to practice wifely subservience in this instance to match his newfound interest for husbandry.

  He looked at her shrewdly. “And if I tell you I will be finished with my business within a fortnight only to rush across the border to your side and return to Clyne?”

  Her face brightened. “Oh!”

  “So, in view of all that information, what would you call me today?”

  She gave a little laugh and swung the foot she was resting on her other leg. “Oh, I cannot tell you! I tossed and turned for hours in bed last night thinking of how to call you!”

  He did not say anything, but the way the light shifted his eyes to a darker shade and he held her gaze for just a trifle too long, made Holly blush without knowing exactly why and avert her eyes to her hands in her lap instead.

  “Well,” said Baugham slowly, “don’t fret, love. The only thing that matters is that you will be able to call me husband soon enough.”

  She nodded, at a loss over why her heart beat a little faster and her breath came a little quicker still.

  “So, in that vein, tell me, are you one of those women who feel it would be a sin to pass up the chance of a society wedding?”

  “Oh, not at all!” she said quickly. “That is . . . unless you . . . ”

  “God forbid! I could not imagine anything more tortuous than escorting the love of my life up and down the vestry to sign the register at St George’s Church in Hanover Square. I think we should get married in Scotland.”

  Holly smiled. “Because it is the quickest way.”

  “Not at all.” He returned the smile and caught her hand to hold it between his. “Because it is your home and I love it.”

  “Well, that is a good thing. Weddings in Scotland have some dubious connotations where young, unmarried Englishmen are concerned.”

  Baugham laughed again. “
I’m not that young! And thankfully, my dear, neither are you!”

  IT IS NOT EASY FOR young lovers to make love in a house while still adhering to the demands of polite society, especially in a house already suffering from the deprivation of two beloved daughters and their well-tolerated suitors. The couple draws attention when they would prefer neglect, and are teasingly accused of behaving either foolishly or adoringly — depending on the perspective and expectations — when instead of providing entertainment for the listless household, they would much rather secret themselves in a private corners, away from amused glances and knowing observations, and proceed with their mutual adoration in peace.

  Still, they bravely try and discuss the wedding that took place recently without slipping into too much speculation on their own, compliment the hostess on her taste and fare without wistfully confessing they would much prefer to be home, and engage the mother in talk about general things without somehow making every thing relevant to the bride. Plans for leaving are quickly suggested and when no one except the Mistress of the house can find any arguement against the scheme, practical arrangements and concerns are quickly dispensed with normal social intercourse must once again be attempted.

  At some point, however, the elders grow weary and the youngsters grow itchy. Then there is nothing else to do but to cast an admiring glance out the window and profess a great desire to take some enjoyment in the fresh air despite rain, hail or icy winds and then quickly accompany one’s beloved outside where there, curiously enough, is plenty of opportunity for combining propriety with pleasure.

  “Do you realise,” Holly said, leaning on his arm as they walked around the house in perfect contentment and ignorance of the ice cold wind on their faces, “that this is the very garden where Lady Catherine tried unsuccessfully to warn Elizabeth away from Mr Darcy? She told me she called it a ‘prettyish kind of wilderness’.” Holly looked around, “And it is very pretty in the summer . . . ”