by E Bradshaw
Nevertheless, though the regiment did bring in plenty of trade, the local inn keepers had begun to grow tired of dealing with drunken brawls whenever the soldiers of the regiment had had too much to drink. Local shop keepers had begun to complain of unpaid bills, whilst more than one tradesman had been outraged to discover that their daughter had been ruined by some of the more unscrupulous members of the regiment. All in all, after several long months of having the regiment stationed outside the town, the populace of Meryton as a whole felt that they would be heartily glad to see the back of them. Only the young women of the town sighed over their departure – though quite surprisingly, Lydia and Kitty were not amongst their number.
In fact, Darcy had been really quite taken aback to find that the two young ladies were so indifferent to the news that the regiment was to depart so imminently. They had discussed the news over luncheon when he and Charles had dined at Longbourn three days before, but neither Lydia nor Kitty had seemed especially troubled by the discussion. Remembering their previous conduct during his last stay in Hertfordshire, Darcy had expected that the news would cause the two youngest Bennet sisters a great deal of unhappiness; he had even expected some amount of sulking from the pair of them. However, to his surprise, the two young ladies had instead seemed quite composed over the fact that the young men of the regiment were to leave them behind forever.
Darcy remembered Lydia and Kitty’s glee at the balls and social gatherings which he had attended in the past; the two girls had been swept up in the general excitement caused by the officers of the regiment, and thus it had been really quite mystifying to see them looking so unconcerned about the regiment’s forthcoming departure. Moreover, he and Charles had learnt that Lydia had initially been invited to depart with the regiment, to travel with Colonel Forster and his wife as their particular guest – but of course, this plan had been abandoned following the tragic loss of her mother. Little as he knew her, Darcy realised that Lydia must have been very excited over such an invitation – and he could not help but feel that something significant had changed about Lydia and her closest sister following their mother’s death. They had matured and had grown far more serious since his last visit, but though he might once have felt that such changes were for the better, he now could not help but think how sad it was to see such high-spirited girls become so morose and grave in their manners.
*****
Though he was undoubtedly keen to visit Longbourn again, Darcy had resolutely stayed away from the Bennet household ever since he and Charles had last visited three days before. Neither of them wished to impose themselves upon a family so deep in mourning, though nor did either of them wish to leave Hertfordshire so soon. Darcy was aware that he and Charles had now exceeded their original plan to stay at Netherfield for only a week, though neither he nor his friend had made any mention of that fact to one another. Charles had made no indication that he wished to leave, and thus Darcy had not spoken of any plans for departure, either. He suspected that neither of them would be honest with one another about their reasons, though he knew very well that their motives for lingering in Hertfordshire had everything to do with the two eldest Miss Bennet’s.
In truth, Darcy had found the luncheon at Longbourn to be something of a trial. It was not that he had not enjoyed Mr Bennet’s company, because he had. He had also been glad to bring some relief to the Bennet sisters, for he had found that Jane had been altogether correct about Mr Bennet being reluctant to eat, though the older gentleman had chosen to remain at the table for the duration of the meal due to him and Charles being present that day. In fact, with Charles’ easy-going conversation causing a welcome distraction and Darcy’s occasional subtle encouragements, Mr Bennet had eaten a full plateful that afternoon. Darcy had not missed the little glances exchanged across the table between the sisters, communicating their relief at their father’s better spirits, and Darcy had been pleased to be of some help to the family, even in such a small way.
Even so, he had been a little taken aback to be the recipient of warm smiles from Mary and Jane during the course of the meal – and when he had made a droll comment which had actually caused Mr Bennet to laugh, Darcy had felt completely unbalanced to see Elizabeth looking directly at him and smiling warmly in gratitude. In that moment he had hardly known where to look or how to react; he had been blown away by her unaffected beauty, as he always was, and for a blissful moment his heart had soared with hope that she might think better of him than she had at Easter time. However, in the very next second, Darcy had forcibly swallowed down such foolish hopes and had firmly reasserted control over himself. He knew all too well from recent and very bitter experience what her actual feelings were towards him, and it would be entirely foolish on his part (not to mention extremely painful) to misinterpret her momentary show of gratitude as anything more profound. Still, despite his better knowledge of her poor opinions of him, the temptation had still been there to enjoy her smiles and her company, and to allow himself to believe that there was still a chance that she might have changed her mind about him.
Such hopeful feelings were extremely painful and disorientating, and as a consequence he had hardly known how to respond to Elizabeth whilst they had dined together. In the end he had settled on being politely distant; he had neither ignored her, nor directly tried to engage her into conversation. Instead, he had determinedly engaged Mr Bennet and sometimes Mary and Jane into conversation during their luncheon and had only responded to Elizabeth whenever she had asked him a direct question. He had seen her biting her lip and looking rather pensive during the meal, and he had wondered what it was that she could be thinking. He wished he knew if his presence in her home caused her discomfort or not, and whether she found him to be just as arrogant and conceited as she had before.
He wished he could follow Richard’s advice and be more sociable and outgoing; he wished he had the ability to impress her with clever comments and amusing anecdotes, but to his dismay, his mind seemed to go completely blank every time he looked at her. He could not pretend to be amusing like his cousin, nor amiable like his friend; he could only be himself – though he wished he knew how he could pass time in Elizabeth’s company and still manage to maintain his composure. He felt sure that he still stared at her too often, and he was aware that his responses to her that day had hardly made any sense. It had therefore seemed far safer to retreat behind his reserve whenever he had addressed her. Even so, he had been aware that his behaviour towards her sisters, in comparison, had been far less uptight, and he knew that Elizabeth was far too astute not to have noticed the difference.
In his desperation for a suitable distraction, Darcy had therefore spent time observing Charles and the eldest Miss Bennet as they had interacted with one another over luncheon. He had seen for himself what he had so stupidly missed in the previous autumn; for although Jane was still very shy and Charles was still rather uncertain, it was clear that the two of them still harboured tender feelings for one another. Of course, Jane was still in deep mourning and would be for the next several months, and so it would not be appropriate for Charles to make any indication that he wished to court her, just as propriety demanded that she could give no clear indication that she would welcome his addresses, even if he were to make them. Even so, Darcy had noticed the long looks that Charles had directed at Jane, and thus he knew all too well that his friend was still head over heels in love with her. Thus, Darcy knew that the time had finally come to tell his friend the truth about what he had done last winter, though in all honesty, he did not look forward to making such a confession, knowing how angry Charles would likely be. Knowing that the task would only become harder the longer he left it, he had therefore resolved to tell Charles that very day – and he just hoped that his friend could forgive him when he knew everything.
*****
It was market day and the streets of Meryton teemed with activity. Traders of every sort shouted aloud to advertise their wares, vying for attention from the crowds of
potential customers who passed by. Farmers congregated around pens of livestock, making bids and bartering for a good price. Wives stood in groups together, holding baskets over their arms and exchanging gossip. A line of agricultural labourers and domestic workers assembled together by the town hall, all hoping to find employment by the end of the day’s trading. Groups of soldiers sauntered down the streets or stood flirting with the local young women, enjoying their last day of ease before they began their long march south on the morrow.
Darcy and Charles walked side by side past all the bustling activity, distantly observing it all but not taking part. Occasionally they absentmindedly nodded their heads in greeting at passing acquaintances, but they did not stop to exchange pleasantries. Such behaviour was typical of Darcy but was completely out of character for Charles. However, Charles was in no mood for small talk that day; Darcy had finally revealed the truth to him – about how he had conspired with Caroline and Louisa to separate him from Miss Bennet – and he was furious. He walked in angry silence by Darcy’s side, his eyes narrowed as he contemplated what Darcy had told him – and he finally recognised what a fool he had been to let other people control his life.
Darcy had given him a heartfelt apology, but still Charles had been unable to prevent himself from angrily lashing out. He had furiously berated Darcy for his interfering; he had heatedly blamed him for his unhappiness through the long winter months when he had been pining for Miss Bennet – and not once had Darcy argued with him or tried to defend himself. Instead, he had gravely accepted Charles’ criticisms and had only nodded sadly in response when Charles had called him a false friend. Indeed, Charles had been somewhat taken aback by his friend’s meek response; it simply wasn’t like Darcy to be so submissive. Darcy had always been a good man; honourable, principled and steadfast, but he could also be somewhat proud and overbearing, and Charles had always been a little in awe of him in the past.
Darcy had always seemed more self-assured and collected than any other person Charles knew; he was always so certain of his actions; always so steady and resolute. And yet now Darcy seemed lost for words; he seemed humbled in the face of Charles’ righteous anger, and Charles could not help but be confused by the marked change in his friend. He wondered what had happened to his friend and when such a transformation had taken place. In fact, as he considered the issue, Charles realised that Darcy had not really been like his old self ever since his last visit to his aunt’s estate at Easter time. He wondered if something had occurred during his stay there which could have caused this change in Darcy – though he was still too agitated to think clearly or to properly consider the question in any depth.
Charles ground his teeth together as he tried to keep himself from saying anything further; he was still very angry at Darcy, but he was also honest enough to recognise that he himself was to blame. He should have been more decisive in the face of his sisters’ opposition; he should have been more determined to do what he knew was right. Instead, he had allowed others to tell him what to do and had accepted their views on what was best for him. He had let them treat him like a wilful child, instead of asserting his own will. It was an important lesson, Charles realised, and he was determined to learn from it.
He had always depended a great deal on Darcy’s experience and common sense; in fact, he had frequently looked to Darcy for advice and had asked for his support whenever there was a difficult decision to be made. In truth, Charles realised now that he was as much to blame as Darcy was for the decision to leave Miss Bennet behind in the previous November. He had asked Darcy for his guidance so often that it had become a habit for the both of them for Darcy to direct him and for him to meekly give way. Darcy had always been like an older brother to him; advising him, keeping him out of trouble and pre-empting the mistakes that he had so often made. Truthfully, Charles recognised that he owed a great debt of gratitude to Darcy for all the support which he had provided to him in the past – but nonetheless, he also saw that it was finally time for him to take control of his own life and to begin making his own decisions.
Chapter 6
Having gotten over his initial wave of anger, and having come to such revelations about himself, Charles resolved to forgive his friend and to try and make amends between them. Thus, upon reaching one of the town’s public houses, he suggested that they should go in together and order some luncheon. Darcy was surprised by his friend’s amiable tone, but was more grateful than he could express for Charles’ generosity, and so despite his reservations about the less than savoury surroundings of the inn, he readily agreed to his friend’s suggestion.
However, Darcy found himself regretting his agreement to Charles’ idea as soon as they entered the inn. On ducking his head below the low lintel of the doorway, he immediately saw that the inn was swarming with crowds of soldiers. Raucous laughter met his ears; he saw that many of the soldiers were drinking heavily – and some looked as though they had already had too much. A group of them were sat around a table gambling over cards, whilst others slouched together playing a loud drinking game; clearly all of them were enjoying their last day of leisure before their long march on the morrow. Darcy’s sense of unease increased, but Charles, in comparison, seemed completely unconcerned by all the noise and rowdy behaviour, and instead he proceeded further into the inn, giving Darcy no choice but to follow.
Nodding politely at some of the officers of their acquaintance, Charles and Darcy passed though the crowded inn and made towards one of the tables at the back of the room. Darcy would have much preferred not to dine in such surroundings, sensing that there could be trouble with so many drunken, idle soldiers about, but he badly wanted to keep the fragile truce with Charles and thus he chose not to make any comment. Consequently, he tried very hard to shut out all the noise and boisterous behaviour going on around them, and instead attempted to focus his attention on listening to his friend as they ate their meal.
Indeed, Darcy’s determination to ignore the soldiers succeeded for a while, though his attention was unavoidably drawn some time later by a rowdy conversation occurring at a nearby table. A group of officers were talking drunkenly about their sexual conquests, each boasting about their supposed success with the fairer sex and trying to outdo one another by bragging of their exploits. Darcy had heard such distasteful conversations between men of their ilk before; usually he did his best to ignore such stupidity, but this time he could not. Both he and Charles suddenly heard the name Bennet exchanged in bantering tones between the men, and they both immediately broke off from their conversation and glanced towards the other table, their attention fixed squarely upon the group.
“To the Bennet ladies!” one of the men cried loudly. He raised his glass in a toast as he spoke, and his companions merrily followed suit, all laughing and raising their glasses in a drunken salute.
“Long may they continue to smile at us!” another one cried.
“And long may they please our eyes with their lovely curves!” laughed another.
The men all took a deep swig of their drinks at this, and they laughed together over a muttered joke that was fortunately too indistinct for Darcy and Charles to hear properly. Nevertheless, Darcy glared across at the group of drunken men, his brow furrowing and a grim frown descending across his features as he watched them.
“Don’t over-react, Darcy,” Charles urged him quietly, knowing all too well what his friend’s forbidding expression boded. He knew very well that Darcy had a soft spot for the Bennet sisters and that he felt protective over them. “You know what soldiers can be like,” he added in an urgent whisper. “They’re just drunk; they don’t know what they’re saying.”
Charles laid a cautioning hand on his friend’s arm as he spoke, and Darcy nodded grimly at his advice and visibly attempted to relax. For a moment, it almost seemed as though Darcy had taken heed of his friend’s warning, for he determinedly looked away from the group with a clear effort to ignore them. Unfortunately, however, the officers did not have
the sense to remain quiet, for they heedlessly continued to speak their nonsense aloud.
“The dark haired one is especially lovely,” purred one of the men – and Darcy’s head immediately shot up. He had not liked the predatory tone in the man’s voice, and he turned and fixed a fierce glare upon the officer as he silently wondered how well acquainted the man was with Elizabeth.
“You mean Miss Elizabeth,” commented one of his companions. “I prefer her golden-haired sister; now there’s a woman who could keep a man warm in his bed!”
Darcy immediately shot to his feet at such provocation, though the group of men were much too drunk to notice him at first. This time Charles did not urge Darcy to be cautious, for his ire had likewise been provoked by the officers’ scandalous words. Nevertheless, he was not prepared for his friend’s sudden actions when the men spoke again.
“I tell you what,” the man snorted in amusement to his companion; “you can have the dark haired one and I’ll have her sister!”
“Alright, it’s a done deal!” laughed the first man. “You can have the doe-eyed, golden beauty and I’ll have Miss Lizzy! I think she’d be more fun in bed anyway; she looks as though she could put up a good fight!” He smirked and a calculating gleam lit up his eyes. “If only I could come across her when she’s out on one of her solitary rambles,” he joked maliciously; “the things I’d like to do to her! I’d bend her over and give her such a seeing to that she’d not be able to sit down for a week!”
Darcy’s rage could no longer be contained; he was utterly and completely outraged at such revolting words, and his temper finally boiled over. Even before the man had finished speaking his vile thoughts aloud, Darcy felt himself striding forward in retaliation, with murderous intentions bubbling over in his mind. The group of officers never even saw the attack coming, for Darcy was upon them far quicker than they could react. Goaded by such vile provocation, Darcy immediately made for the man who had spoken such contemptible words about Elizabeth and he punched him squarely in the face. The man gave a startled yelp of surprise and then a grunt of pain as Darcy’s fist connected with his face, whilst his companions all jumped to their feet with loud exclamations and outraged curses.
