by J Dawn King
“Not yours?”
“Certainly not mine.” Again, he smiled. “She looks the part of a fragile English rose, yet has the fierceness of a warrior. I will do anything to make her mine.”
“Has she left London?” Darcy could not hide his confusion. If it was as Richard said, why would he abandon his lady to the company of others?
“She has not.” The colonel shrugged. “I cannot offer for her because I am probably in worse circumstances than she. I have no estate to offer her, no fortune. I am a soldier—no more and no less. She is lost to me.”
“I see.”
“And therefore I am seeking your company, Cousin.” Richard jabbed him with his elbow. “I can commiserate with the man most likely not to have his head turned by a pretty woman. You will help me regain my senses.”
I doubt it.
Richard continued. “Which begs the question: what in the world are you up to? According to poor Bingley, you allowed him no rest or even a meal after the ball before scurrying off to town. Now you are on your way back to Hertfordshire. This uncertainty is most unlike you, Darce. What has happened? Is it Georgiana? Is it Wickham?”
Darcy wished the blood rushing to his cheeks gone. He dropped his chin to his chest and breathed in slowly. He could not disassemble.
“I met a woman.” He kept his voice flat, knowing his cousin would either laugh uproariously or commiserate with his pain.
***
No sooner had Darcy repeated the whole of the sordid tale when the carriage slowed to enter Meryton. He suspected the two of them would be arriving at Netherfield Park about the same time as the Bingley sisters and Mr. Hurst would be rising to break their fast and begin their day. He was not in a hurry to be in their company once again.
“Why, look there.” The colonel was focused on a sight beyond his window.
As soon as Darcy realised what, or rather, whom his cousin was looking at, he tapped his cane on the roof. When the carriage stopped, Darcy stepped out and left the door open in case his cousin followed.
It was not until he was almost upon the Bennet sisters that he discerned the ladies were not alone. Gone was the oafish clergyman who had had the temerity to stand up for the first set with Miss Elizabeth. In his place were three of the militia officers who often swarmed around the young ladies of the village. He paid them no attention, his gaze focused on the second Bennet daughter.
He had assumed the loveliness of the ladies had caught his cousin’s attention. When he heard the slide of steel upon steel, Darcy comprehended his error. As he bowed to the women, Richard moved directly in front of Wickham and placed the tip of his blade against the villain’s throat.
“Wickham!” Richard growled as Miss Kitty swooned. Captain Carter caught her before she hit the ground.
Miss Jane Bennet immediately wrapped her arms around her sister Mary and pulled her back away from the grouping.
Miss Elizabeth stepped closer to Darcy. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded.
Lydia Bennet sidled up to Richard and placed her hand on his left arm, entirely ignoring his unrelenting posture and the sword in his other hand.
“While I thank you for seeing to my honour and good name, Colonel, I do not think Lt. Wickham’s not showing up to claim the first set is worth retaliating with such force,” Miss Lydia purred.
Darcy watched as she squeezed the muscle on his cousin’s arm.
“Though,” she continued, stepping even closer to his cousin, “such a display assuredly tells me who is the better man.” Her eyelashes lowered as she batted them rapidly.
“Lydia Rose Bennet!” Miss Elizabeth hissed at her sister, embarrassment flooding her face. She grabbed her boldest sibling in a replay of the night before. “Pardon us, sirs. We will remove ourselves immediately.”
With that, she spun her around, gathered Kitty, who had quit pretending to have fainted when she undoubtedly realised she would miss the action with her eyes closed, and steered the rest of her present family towards Longbourn.
Darcy could do nothing other than stand and watch them go. The elaborate plans, made while Richard slept the first part of the journey, to improve the opinion of the community (and more particularly Miss Elizabeth) had gone up in flames with his cousin’s aggressiveness.
“What do you want me to do with him?” Richard demanded through gritted teeth.
Darcy, frustrated he had missed his best opportunity to put his plans to work, said the first thing that came to mind. “Kill him!”
CHAPTER 4
Miss Bingley’s reaction to his return was exactly as he had expected. Footmen were covering the furniture as she barked orders to the staff. She huffed her frustration at having visitors interrupt her departure and so was mightily embarrassed when she turned to see him standing in the entrance hall with his cousin. Darcy knew what drove her decision to vacate the premises and return to London—separating her brother from Miss Jane Bennet.
Darcy shook his head, though he refrained from commenting. Bingley would need to take charge of his sisters, as they had a pattern of making decisions for him. He shuddered with the realisation that he had been just as controlling—though unintentionally. That he would have something in common with the Bingley females was horrifying. Another good reason to adjust his attitude.
“Richard, as soon as you return downstairs, I will leave for Longbourn. You are welcome to ride along.”
Miss Bingley interrupted their plans. “Pray, Mr. Darcy. Do allow me to provide respite from your hurried travels. Surely the Bennets can do without your company long enough for tea to be served. It will take but a moment.” She stepped closer to him and fluttered her eyelashes in what she must have assumed was an attractive pose. The similarity between her actions and Miss Lydia’s would have horrified the superior-in-her-own-mind Caroline Bingley. “By the time you remove the dust from the road, the tray will arrive. I am certain you would not want to offend your hostess?”
He accepted defeat, though not so graciously as he probably should have, and acceded to her plans. Thus, it was more than an hour before he and Richard mounted their horses and rode to the Bennet estate.
“Is the woman you are in love with a Bennet?”
Darcy rolled his eyes at the innocent question from his cousin. They were alone on the road to Longbourn, but he knew their voices carried in the stillness of the autumn day.
“I am not in love with anyone, thank you, Richard.” Darcy’s answer was abrupt. “She has merely unsettled me, causing me to reflect on my reactions to meeting strangers and interacting with those from a lower sphere.” He had already felt the sting of being overheard by Miss Elizabeth at the assembly. Carefully choosing his words in case someone lurked behind the ancient oaks lining the roadway awaiting an opportunity to report any slurs against the lady, he clarified, “She seems completely unaffected by my wealth, my name, or my position in society. Her conversations are stimulating and her arguments well thought out. I have never spoken with a woman before who is my intellectual equal.”
“She is rare, indeed.” His cousin rubbed his chin. “And you do not love her? Are you certain, Darcy?”
“Of that I am entirely certain,” he quickly reassured his cousin…and himself. “I know my familial obligations—my duty. The future mistress of Pemberley will be as expected: from the first circles, a woman of fashion and sense, who will elevate the Darcy name and add to our coffers. I will marry no other so would never encourage a country miss with no prospects and nothing to offer other than her charms.”
“So she is charming?”
Darcy sighed. “You are being persistent, Cousin, and I am unsure of your goal. My heart is not attached to anyone. And I do mean anyone. I have no intention of allowing her to have any more importance in my life other than as an impetus to readjust my viewpoints. My heart is intact now and will be when I depart Hertfordshire.”
“Humph!”
“With that said, dear Cousin, I am not a blind man. When you are introdu
ced to Miss Elizabeth, you will see some of the finest eyes in the kingdom. Unfortunately for me, they pierced my soul, revealing I am not quite the man my father raised me to be. Once I adjust my countenance amidst strangers, I will be done with her and her neighbours.”
“Humph!”
“You shall see, Richard.” Darcy kicked his horse to a gallop. Within seconds, his cousin had done the same, and the race was on.
***
Although they had been introduced, Darcy had spent little time in Mr. Bennet’s company. Thus, he was taken by surprise with the disapprobation he was confronted with when he and his cousin were shown into the master of Longbourn’s book room.
“Mr. Darcy, I am unsurprised to see you. I am assuming this is Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Mr. Bennet had stood at their entrance and looked over the top of the spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose at the two men in front of him.
“Yes, sir. This is my cousin.”
“And you are both here to tell tales of Lt. Wickham, I believe?”
They had not even been offered the most common courtesy of taking a seat in front of his desk. They had been offered no libation from the stock sitting on a silver tray to the right of his large leather chair, nor had they been offered a greeting consistent with their position. Instead, Darcy could see the sarcasm bubbling beneath the surface of Mr. Bennet’s face, and he felt ire at the insult. Their stopping at Netherfield Park long enough to soothe Miss Bingley had apparently allowed Wickham to plead his case to receptive ears.
Unclenching his fists, he replied, “We are not children to tattle on one another, Mr. Bennet. Though we have known Wickham since our youth, it is his actions as an adult which…”
“I know. I know.” Mr. Bennet fluttered his right hand in the air, as if sweeping the words out of the window beside him. “Lt. Wickham has already shared your history, and I must say, Mr. Darcy, you have plenty of nerve to come to my home after insulting my family and friends. That you seek to do the same to a fine, young gentleman such as the lieutenant is a testament to what is already known about you. Your arrogance and selfish disdain for those you consider below you does not recommend you as anything other than a troublemaker. I refuse to listen to any vitriol you spew, so keep silent, young man.”
Mr. Bennet immediately focused his attention on Richard. “And, you, Colonel. How dare you come into our peaceful community with your sword drawn, threatening innocent citizens. Your conduct is a reproach to the King’s army, and I have already sent my opinion to Major-General Wellesley, your superior, as to the egregiousness of your conduct.”
“But, Wickham has a past history of…”
“Not another word, Mr. Darcy.” Mr. Bennet planted both hands on his desk and leaned towards them. He did not even blink. “Just prior to leaving this room, Lt. Wickham asked for a few moments of privacy with my Lizzy. I expect that within a short period of time, the gentleman will be my son. With the knowledge of running an estate he learnt from his beloved father and your own, I foresee a brilliant future for all my daughters once he takes over the management of Longbourn. I have nothing further to say. You may leave knowing you are no longer welcome in my home. Though I cannot speak for my neighbours, I would imagine you would not be welcomed in their homes or businesses as well.”
Darcy was livid. Never had he been dismissed so perfunctorily and never had his opinions been disregarded with such aversion.
Before leaving, he stepped forward and leaned his fists on the desk, mimicking his host. “Your choice not to protect your daughters from evil is your right, Mr. Bennet. However, with that decision, the responsibility and accountability for this decision will solely be on your shoulders and yours alone. I wash my hands of you. Of all of you.”
Standing erect, he brushed his hands together, turned, and walked out of Longbourn, knowing he would never see Miss Elizabeth again. At that moment in time, his anger was such that he could not have cared less.
***
“Darcy, do not let his insolence stop you from following the right course. I know you, Cousin. You will brood and fret and worry yourself sick if you leave these people unprotected.”
“I am aware of my tendencies, Richard.” He forced himself to stop grinding his teeth. “I will do what I must.”
Darcy turned his horse towards Meryton and stopped in front of the haberdashery. Dismounting quickly, he walked into the shop and proceeded directly up to the merchant.
“Mr. Simons, in spite of my history of covering the debts of Lt. George Wickham in towns such as Lambton, Kympton, and Matlock, I will no longer do so. If you have allowed him credit, you are solely responsible for the loss you will suffer from his non-payment.” He noted the man’s discomfort and suspected Wickham had already started collecting charges. “Prudence dictates you share this information with your peers, sir. I will be stopping at the tavern to share the same as I told you. I will not be purchasing his vowels from you or anyone else in Hertfordshire, nor will I clean up his messes with any of your daughters. He is a disreputable man and has long been so.”
Leaving his horse at the store, he walked to the tavern and told the owner the same. Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, the man’s daughter overheard.
“But he said he loved me and will marry me as soon as he is paid his due from the militia,” the young girl cried to the dismay of her father.
“I believe he is, at this very moment, making an offer of marriage to one of the Bennet girls.” Darcy turned to walk away. “You have been warned.”
Mounting his horse, he looked at his cousin. “We are done here.” With haste, they retraced their steps towards Netherfield Park.
***
Taking the liberty of making himself comfortable in Bingley’s study, he took the top off the crystal decanter of brandy and poured two glasses to the brim. Gulping back the first one, he refilled it before handing the other to the colonel.
“I am sorry, old man.” Richard spoke softly as if it somehow made his words more palatable.
Darcy wanted to slam his forehead against the thick hardwood mantel over the fireplace or shove his fist through the paneling on the wall. He did neither.
“Do not be sorry for me. I am reaping what I have sown.” He took a sip of the fine liquid. “I shall weather this storm as I have always done and will, with hope, come out a man who is more considerate of my own position and responsibilities. I am done with Wickham and the people of Hertfordshire. They have been warned. I owe them nothing else.”
The colonel had dropped into one of the chairs in front of the fire with his head leaned back and his face to the ceiling. “I say. It is good you did not give your heart to Miss Elizabeth. It would be all the harder to know she will be bedding your enemy had you decided on her.”
Darcy could barely speak. Bitter words jumbled in his throat until they threatened to choke him. Anger and disappointment filled him until he thought his head would explode.
“Enough!” he growled. “I had sought to earn her forgiveness. No more. From this second onward, I shall not think of her again. I am finished!”
“What shall you do now?” The colonel set his drink on a side table. “I need to be back in town by morning. I doubt Bingley will return before I leave. I will probably meet him on the road.”
“I think my best course of action is to winter at Pemberley with Georgiana. There I shall have peace.” As Darcy said the words, he felt the rightness of them.
“And I think I had better learn from what happened here and not delay in trying to set things straight with Miss Cecily Knowlton.” The colonel stood to leave the room, stopping to look back at him. “Perhaps you will meet the woman of your dreams soon, Cousin. Then you will be as happy as I am.”
“But, you are miserable.” Darcy could not help but note the droop of Richard’s shoulders.
“I know. I fear it is what love does to a sensible man.”
They both snorted, content in having finally reached the correct decision. Before his cousin cou
ld leave the room, they heard a soft knocking. A footman entered bearing a note.
“The express rider is outside awaiting your reply, sir.”
The direction was in Mrs. Reynolds’ hand. The long-time housekeeper at Pemberley used the express service only when the news was dire. Georgiana was at Pemberley. Unless the estate had suffered extensive damages, the tidings concerned his sister.
Weakness shot through his knees. He sat on the closest chair and, forcefully breaking the seal, ripped open the paper. What he read sent chills down his spine.
He knew from his cousin’s reaction that his fear showed on his face. Handing the paper to Richard, he put his hand to his mouth, remembering to breathe as he did so.
“The rose has bloomed.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Enlightenment covered Richard’s face as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Oh, dear Lord.” His cousin collapsed into the seat beside him.
