A Chance at Happiness Page 9

  “He makes a better impression in contrast with Colonel Fitzwilliam than compared to Mr Bingley, you mean?” Elizabeth feigned innocence of Charlotte’s true meaning, which slight deception her friend did not allow to go unchallenged.

  “He prefers to speak in a group of four than a houseful of excitable sisters.”

  Elizabeth had spoken to Charlotte of the few occasions the Netherfield party had called at Longbourn and, it seemed, had kept less of a check on her tongue than she realised. Her cheeks warmed. Had she betrayed herself in sharing her opinions of Mr Darcy even before he left Hertfordshire? She struggled to recall what she said, wondering what insight her friend had secured when Lizzy’s feelings were still a mystery to herself.

  “I will own that, on the rare occasion he has managed to engage me in conversation I have found him to be intelligent, and interesting, if a little too wedded to his own opinions,” she admitted, after a pause.

  Charlotte swallowed a laugh but refused to be drawn on it when Lizzy turned a questioning glance towards her.

  “It seems to me, Charlotte, that when young ladies are married they seem certain that all other folk of their acquaintance must be desirous of entering a similar state,” she grumbled, freeing herself from Charlotte’s clutches and folding her arms across her chest as if she might keep her friend’s words at bay by sheer force of will. “You may stop your scheming just as soon as you please, for even if my irritation with Mr Darcy is waning, based on the time we have spent with him here in Kent, that does not mean I shall ever view him as anything more than a passing acquaintance.”

  “Passing, indeed! He has passed by your acquaintance three times in as many days. You cannot think it a coincidence that he comes here the very time that you are visiting us at Hunsford.”

  “I hardly think I was the reason for his visit.” Lizzy shook her head. “He came to see his aunt, to spend time with his cousins.”

  “Indeed, and he might not have come at any other time in the year than when the young lady whose good opinion he sought to restore happened to be but a stone’s throw away.”

  “If that was his intention then he need not have left Hertfordshire at all,” Elizabeth countered, returning yet again to the latest action in a litany of misdeeds on Mr Darcy’s part. “Charlotte, you are my dear friend, but clearly country life has addled your brain if you would construct a romance where none exists -”

  “But you cannot claim you dislike him.”

  “Indeed, that is the very thing I am claiming - more than that, it is the truth!”

  Elizabeth was growing exasperated with her friend’s campaign, although she felt her reservations weakening with every question Charlotte posed. Was this how Charlotte found herself engaged and then married to Mr Collins? Surrender to a tireless inquisition? Recalling her own disastrous proposal from Mr Collins she did not doubt it would have been his chosen method. Well, she thought, I am not so easily defeated. I can be quite as stubborn as you, Charlotte, and do not forget it!

  “Do you recall the summer we set out to read Shakespeare?”

  This question came so unexpectedly from her friend’s lips that Elizabeth laughed.

  “I see you have abandoned your quest to question me into an affection I do not feel, and for that I thank you.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “Yes, I recall it. Why? Did you wish to revisit our scheme, and begin again?”

  “I am far too busy for such a task.” Charlotte smiled. “But I might suggest one play that I think would be worthy of yourself taking a second read of.”

  “Which?” Lizzy wished she could see inside her friend’s mind. There was some trap being laid, she felt certain of it, and longed to avoid putting her foot in the snare, for Charlotte was a patient hunter and would win the day, for certain.

  “Much Ado about Nothing.” Charlotte’s tone was light with practised disinterest, but Lizzy wagered she was concentrating very carefully as she delivered her suggestion.

  “It is an amusing diversion, and if it would please you to have me read it, dear, then, of course, you might be assured I will.” Lizzy turned her gaze towards the herb garden, feeling as though she would like very much to take hold of their conversation and redirect it, to a destination she could be sure was not Charlotte’s doing, for then and only then would she be safe from her friend’s insinuation. “Look at this mint, Charlotte, is it not such a vibrant green? We should cut some for a tisane. Would not fresh mint tea be heavenly when the weather is as mild as this?”

  Charlotte said nothing, her smile an agreement, and Lizzy set to her task, using her fingernails to pick the tender leaves cleanly and wishing she had thought to bring a basket.

  “I shall find my copy of Shakespeare upon our return, Lizzy, for I must speak to our housekeeper about a few matters concerning to this evening’s meal. I hope you will not feel too abandoned, with Benedick and Beatrice for company.”

  “I am sure I shall not!” Lizzy laughed, glad that this strange conversation seemed, at last, to be reaching its conclusion. “Although I must warn you of the treatment your book may receive. I find Benedick so infuriating that I have long wished to reach into the text and box his ears!”

  Charlotte said nothing in response to this little speech, merely smiled, knowingly, at her friend and Lizzy was left wondering if this had somehow been the comment she had longed to hear. She turned it over as the girls returned to the house, and as realisation dawned on her a hot flush crept up her neck. Beatrice and Benedick despise one another, and yet that is what makes their love all the more inevitable. Charlotte cannot think the same true of me and Mr Darcy, can she? Yet as soon as she had thought the words, Elizabeth could not help but feel a growing curiosity to determine the truth for herself.

  All afternoon, she devoured the play, feeling more known by Shakespeare than she ever had before, and scarcely noticed the ticking by of the hours.

  DESPITE ROSINGS’ PALATIAL size it did not take Darcy long to locate Anne, once he and Richard returned from their visit to Hunsford. What he did not expect was that Colonel Fitzwilliam would have beaten him to it, for when he entered the music room, both he and she were bent over the piano, apparently deep in conversation.

  “Oh, am I disturbing you?” Darcy asked, his hand still on the doorknob.

  “Darcy! Not at all.” Richard stood, and hastened to greet him with a hearty shake of the hand. “Come in and join us. Poor Anne was attempting to educate me in music, but I fear it is a hopeless task.” He grinned. “I am a poor student.”

  “That I can attest to!” Darcy grimaced. “Who was it that endeavoured to help you improve your shooting aim?”

  “Indeed, and now look, it has stood me well, in fact, it earned me distinction in my chosen career.” Richard laughed. “I am a credit to your teaching. And your patience.”

  Darcy’s patience was tested just then, for he had come seeking Anne with a desire to discuss a certain matter with her, and to do so without an audience. His cousin must have noticed his distress, for she darted a glance towards Richard, and smiled slightly.

  “Did I tell you, Richard, that my mother was anxious for your return? She wished you to call on her in her study...”

  Genuine or no, the excuse was taken up and with a mock salute at both of his cousins, Colonel Fitzwilliam departed, promising to return within the hour, and requesting, if he did not, that a rescue party be sent on his behalf.

  “Did you enjoy your morning?” Anne asked, removing herself from behind the piano and inviting Darcy to join her in the sunny window seat, where they might speak comfortably together and have the view out to the gardens as a source of inspiration, should either party not find words forthcoming. She knows me well, Darcy thought, touched that at least in that instant the maxim was true for one of them. He hardly recognised himself at present.

  “It was a pleasant visit,” he said, shortly. “Colonel Fitzwilliam is already a favourite with the ladies at Hunsford.”

  “As are you, I do no doubt.” A
nne gave him a loyal smile.

  “They tolerated me well enough in his company.” Darcy sighed, but Anne was not quick to demand an explanation. The silence she left must have been calculated, for Darcy found himself speaking to fill it almost against his own will. “I feel at last as if Miss Bennet and I are beginning to put our past behind us. Our past misunderstanding, at least.”

  “Oh, good!” Anne seemed genuinely pleased. “Then you have spoken to her directly?”

  “No,” Darcy hedged. “Not directly. I scarcely know how to do such a thing!” He laughed, but the sound was less than humorous. “But I feel as if she no longer sees me as an enemy, which is a position I must be grateful of.”

  “When have you treated her as an enemy?” Anne shook her head.

  “I fear you did not see me in Hertfordshire.” Darcy grimaced, and ’fessed to his cousin of all the misunderstandings that coloured his early association with Elizabeth Bennet and her family. His face grew hot with shame as he related the behaviour of her sisters and her parents, realising as he spoken that neither he nor Anne could boast blameless acquaintances within their own family. “I fear it is her elder sister I did the most damage to.” He explained his fears that Jane Bennet was like so many other scheming young ladies who had crossed Charles Bingley’s path in London and how in this case, he, Darcy, had been determined to save his friend from harm.

  “And yet now you know the truth surely it is not too late!” Anne protested, standing and walking across to a small desk. “Here is paper and my own pen! Why not write to your friend now, and tell him what you did?”

  Darcy hesitated. It was one thing to confess his flaws to himself, or to such a friend as his cousin. To do so in writing, to Charles Bingley, might have an altogether different reception. Anne sensed his hesitation and set the paper down.

  “Well, perhaps you need not tell him all that happened. But a note explaining that your paths have crossed with Miss Bennet’s here in Kent could surely do no harm.” Her eyes sparkled “Why, you might drop into conversation the intelligence you received that the eldest Miss Bennet is now also in London, and perhaps he would care to call on her at her relatives’ house and pass on all our greetings. Then we might let Providence take its course.”

  This solution was so wise, and so simple, that Darcy leapt to do it immediately before his courage failed him.

  “I am sure Miss Elizabeth would be delighted to know of your actions,” Anne said, slyly.

  “She will not know of it!” Darcy was adamant. “I certainly do not intend to tell her, and nor must you. It is the least of my obligation, to set right the damage my interference has caused.”

  Before Anne could say another word, the door to the music room flew open and Richard stormed in, clutching a note of his own, with a look of disbelief etched into his face.

  “He is a fool! A madman!”

  “Who?” Anne asked, a smile playing on her lips as if she expected to share in some joke. Darcy, who saw the angry set in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s jaw, braced for something more serious. Even so, he never expected to hear the words that emerged from his cousin’s clenched teeth.

  “Mr Collins has challenged me to a duel.”

  “A duel?”

  “He cannot be serious!”

  “Indeed, it seems he is.” Richard dropped two notes down on the desk before Darcy, and stormed over to Anne, exchanging a glance with her that went unnoticed by Darcy, whose attention was on the letters.

  I cannot allow such an insult to go unanswered.

  “To what insult can he refer?” Darcy asked, frowning. He had sensed last evening Mr Collins was a little irritated with Richard’s affable nature, indeed he had sought to drown his sorrows and Darcy wagered that it had been his pounding head and not his work that had kept him sequestered in his study all that morning and away from his guests. He turned, questioningly, to his cousin.

  “You have read the letter he includes?” Richard asked, his voice oscillating between despair and disbelief. “Go ahead and read it. I will wait.”

  Darcy unfolded the second sheet, his eyebrows knitting as he read the apparent declaration of love. Why, it was not even in Richard’s hand!

  “But - you did not write this.”

  “I thank you for noticing!” Richard spat. “He accuses me of carrying on some affair with his wife - the very idea of which is a nonsense!” He glanced at Anne and repeated himself. “It is a nonsense. I barely know the lady. If I was friendly to her it was because they are our neighbours here. I sensed she was lonely and far from home: both emotions I know well. But to suggest I would ever act so improperly as to begin some flirtation -” He was clearly affronted by the idea that Mr Collins believed him to be a rogue, and anguished that such a notion might cause anxiety to his cousins, for it was not until Anne laid a calming hand on his shoulder that he began to settle.

  “It is a mistake,” she said, calmly. “Surely it can be remedied. You might speak to him -”

  “Yes!” Richard laughed, bitterly. “He has given me a time and place where the conversation is to happen, and I must bring my pistol.”

  “You cannot mean to go.”

  “I can hardly avoid it!” Richard strode closer to Darcy, jabbing angrily at the note. “He will take my absence as an admission of guilt, and who knows what that will mean for his wife?”

  “But - you can’t do it. You could be - hurt.” Anne’s voice was strangled, tight with anxiety. Darcy glanced up at her, but she turned away from them, to fix her gaze on the window.

  “Fear not, I have won more than a few duels in my time,” Richard muttered, with grim satisfaction. “Of the two of us, it is for Mr Collins I fear, for I cannot believe the man has fired a gun more than twice in his life. I, at least, know my skills as a marksman.”

  These words, designed to comfort Anne, had the opposite effect, and she joined the gentlemen at the desk, her eyes flashing with more than mere concern.

  “Then you certainly cannot mean to go through with it. For you to be hurt is one thing. For you to cause harm to another -”

  “It is his doing!” Richard protested. “He that makes the accusations, he that demands satisfaction.”

  “I will go with you,” Darcy said, quietly, having examined the notes a second time.

  His calm certainty was enough to cause both of his cousins to cease their argument and look at him.

  “You require a second, do you not?” He frowned. “Is this not how these things are normally done?”

  “You are a good fellow, Darcy, but I could not ask - “

  “You have not asked. I have offered. No, go and gather your belongings, for does not the letter specify the thing to take place at dusk?” He shook his head. “At least he does not demand us to wait until dawn.”

  Richard hesitated a moment, clearly struggling to know whether to stay or go to his business, and it was not until Anne urged him to go that he left, pausing long enough to thank Darcy with a nod that was more eloquent than any words might be. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Anne spoke.

  “Some sense at last! You will prevent it, won’t you?”

  Darcy shrugged his shoulders.

  “I will do all I can to prevent it. If it must go ahead -” he paused at Anne’s sharp intake of breath. “I will ensure no injuries.” He smiled, wryly. “I wager Richard is right in his estimations. Mr Collins will not shoot straight. And Richard will shoot at the sky if I suggest it. I do not doubt he already plans to end it thus.”

  “You are sure?” Anne’s voice shook with anxiety, and Darcy reached out a hand to reassure her, touched by her concern for her cousins and their neighbouring Curate.

  “Do not fret, dear Anne. It will all be well. By this evening, we shall laugh over this as old friends. Just you wait and see.”

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time Mr Collins drew within sight of the spot he had named in his challenge to Colonel Fitzwilliam, doubts were beginning to set in as to the wisdom of his acti
ons. The first fire of anger had died down, for Charlotte had seemed particularly sweet to him that afternoon so that he was left to wonder if he had mistaken the whole situation. Then Elizabeth made reference to the charming visit they had received from Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy, and his anger had kindled again. The man had come to his own house, claimed to be a friend to both he and Mrs Collins and all the while...!

  “Are you sure this is the place, sir?”

  William stopped, realising that he was close to walking past the clearing, and was grateful that his valet had come with him. He needed a Second, for despite knowing little of duels he had taken it upon himself to research what he could in the intervening hours. His manservant was all the help he could muster, but he did not doubt he would serve the purpose adequately. William did not intend on harming anyone too badly, in any case. It was more for show that he turned up at all. And perhaps Colonel Fitzwilliam will back down first, he thought, glancing around with a degree of satisfaction that nobody else was in the clearing except for him and his servant. His contentment was short-lived, though, for but a moment later two shadows appeared from behind the trees. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy, both gentlemen looking taller than William recalled. His courage faltered.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” he called, wishing his voice did not squeak and thus betray his anxiety.

  “Is it?” Colonel Fitzwilliam growled. “What do you mean by this note, sir? It is an affront to me and to your wife, and it is on account of that alone that I am even here, to begin with.”

  He lunged towards him then, and Mr Collins shrank back, although there was still five feet of distance between them.

  “You would rather brawl than manage this as gentlemen?” he squeaked.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam opened his mouth to respond but evidently thought better of it, because he turned around, storming past Mr Darcy and muttering something that Mr Collins could not discern.