Chapter 6
The countryside had pockets of fog floating up from the chilled earth. As Elizabeth made her way along the pathway to Oakham Mount, she regretted that her sisters were not yet awake for the day. They were missing out on the best of the autumn splendor.
Climbing the hillside, she noted the changes the recent weather made to the landscape. Across the valley, smoke rose from chimney tops, warming the residents within the cottages. Orange, gold, yellow, and red leaves valiantly fought to remain on the branches of the oaks lining the meandering brook. A glimpse of sunlight reflected on the water in the streams. Harvested earth provided a rich dark brown foundation to the bucolic scenery. Glorious!
When she reached the crest of the hill, she was shocked to see four horsemen still astride their mounts, standing in her favorite place. In her almost twenty-one years, she rarely encountered another soul at the location. Never could she have imagined seeing others studying the landscape as she often did.
Even with their hats pulled low and their collars covering their chins, she recognized the intruders as Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Darcy. Dipping into a curtsey, she focused on the colonel. “Gentlemen, this is a pleasure.”
The colonel teased, “We appear to be an unexpected pleasure.”
“But no less welcome,” Elizabeth hurried to explain. Gesturing behind her, she said, “Do you not feel the peacefulness of the setting?”
Mr. Bingley quickly replied, “Why, I do not recall seeing anything as lovely.” He glanced at his friend. “I do not mean to imply that Derbyshire is wanting in anything by any means. Of course, the lands surrounding Pemberley and Matlock are stunningly beautiful.”
Elizabeth laughed. “What are people to rocks and mountains!”
The colonel chuckled. “I find that those who recognize beauty in whatever surroundings they are in are happy people as a whole. That you have this place of refuge and peace close to your home means that you are particularly favored.”
It was her turn for the heat of a blush to rise to her cheeks. “I thank you for the compliment, sir.” Tilting her head slightly to the side, she boldly asked, “I will not ask if you are like-minded, Colonel, since you chose to speak humorously of a pup instead of the horrors of war. Might it be that we are kindred spirits, sir? That you, too, try to see the good in whatever circumstance or situation you are in?”
One side of his mouth turned up. “You have caught me out, madam.” The colonel tipped his hat to her. “Are you here solely for the scenery? Or was privacy your intent?”
“Neither,” she replied. “You see, when I was barely five years old, I found a magnificent oak close to the boundary between Longbourn and Netherfield Park that had limbs low enough for me to climb. As I aged, the tree became my refuge, the place where I could enjoy the sounds of nature while burying my nose in a book or dreaming of adventure. With the winds from the past weeks, I needed to see if there had been damage, for there are now young children belonging to Longbourn’s tenants who might use the tree for the same purpose as I once did. This vantage point allows me to look for any injury to my favored refuge.”
His brow arched. “Once did?”
Elizabeth felt like her cheeks could warm the air. “Still do on occasion, Colonel, although rarely, I admit.”
What was she doing? Flirting with a man she barely knew? She was not Lydia or Kitty. Ugh!
Mr. Bingley grinned at their exchange. Mr. Hurst ignored them. Mr. Darcy was scowling, likely appalled at her forwardness. Well! What did she have to do with him? And what did he have to do with her? Nothing! However, it reminded her to be more circumspect. It would not do to exacerbate Mr. Darcy’s loathing towards her. After all, the colonel might have been occasionally dependent on Mr. Darcy’s resources. The army was not where men made their fortunes. And he might influence Mr. Bingley against Jane.
Choosing to step back from singling out the colonel, Elizabeth said, “I suppose you have a superior purpose than checking the health of an oak tree. I hope I am not imposing on your conversation.”
Mr. Bingley did not hesitate to reply, “Superior purpose? Not at all. My sisters have enlisted all the servants for preparations for the ball. We found it necessary to leave the house before we were conscripted into service. I am not useful when it comes to decorating or planning menus.”
“Nor are we,” said Mr. Hurst. “After being cooped up like roosters in a hen house, we needed fresh air.”
“I am looking forward to the ball.” She then asked what she assumed was a simple question, “Will Miss Darcy be attending?”
Mr. Darcy’s reply was brusque. “She will not.”
The colonel clarified. “Even though the Season is just starting, and my father has many interests in the House of Lords, my mother has no daughters to promote. As Georgiana is not yet ready to be presented, Mother determined that the course of wisdom is to winter in the North. The unpredictable weather concerns my mother.”
Elizabeth clasped her hands together, bouncing up on her toes. “To see snow-capped mountains and to skate on ice-covered lakes must be a treat. Your mother sounds like a wise woman, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
His laughter surrounded her. “There is no one on earth who my mother considers to be wiser.”
She appreciated that he was comfortable enough to tease her as much as she did him. With the rising sun behind him, he appeared to be a giant of a man fully capable of whatever he chose to achieve. In comparison, Mr. Bingley looked spindly, Mr. Hurst was rotund, and Mr. Darcy was…well, the truth was that he loomed larger than the colonel.
She grinned. “Will you travel with your mother and Miss Darcy, Colonel?” She knew that she had no right to ask, but…she needed to know. As he had done when she was at Netherfield Park caring for Jane, Mr. Darcy’s disapproval radiated from him whenever he looked at her. Except that one instance when she was looking out her window. For the thousandth time, Elizabeth wondered what she had done to upset him. Whatever it was, she hoped his ill opinion did not affect his cousin, for Elizabeth finally admitted to herself that Colonel Fitzwilliam was everything a man ought to be.
“I will.”
“Oh.” She could not keep the disappointment from being reflected in her tone.
“Nevertheless, as soon as they are safely delivered to Matlock, I plan to return in time for the ball. I would like to request your first should it be available.”
Her eyes caught his. Without losing contact, she dipped her knee. “I thank you, yes. I am not yet engaged for the first.”
Touching the edge of his hat, he bowed at the waist. “The pleasure is all mine. I shall depart now to be ready once my mother’s carriage arrives in St. Albans. We will push the horses hard so I may stand across from you before the music begins to play.”
Elizabeth’s heartbeat quickened. “Then I wish you safe travels, Colonel.” Stepping back, she made way for the horsemen to reach the opening to the path down the hill. While the others gave their adieus, the only one who captured and held her attention was Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.
He stopped his horse alongside, leant down, and said, “I believe you puzzle my cousin exceedingly, Miss Elizabeth. Darcy is rarely out of sorts. I fear that you have not seen him at his best.”
“Rarely?” Elizabeth could not stop herself from asking. Why would he speak of his cousin when he held back from sharing a private word with her, especially after their flirtatious exchange? She stopped herself from saying more when a flash of sorrow crossed her partner’s brow.
“Miss Elizabeth, my father still lives. He takes an active role in the oversight of our family and our properties. Darcy is alone with his burden, which is far larger than Matlock. Not only is he a man of property and extensive investments, but we also share guardianship of his sister, who is not yet sixteen. Imagine being your elder sister’s age and having that weight dropped on your shoulders. Nothing, not even a university education, can prepare a man for the instant blow of having so-called friends try to grasp at your heritage. Although I have challenges as a second son, I would not exchange places with my friend.”
The colonel confused her. Why was he attempting to convince her to see Mr. Darcy in a different light? Was he hoping they would get on together in case they eventually were cousins by marriage? Not having any answers, she said, “I can see that you are a true friend, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Darcy must appreciate your loyalty. But I wonder, exactly why are you telling me this, sir?”
His expression was grave. “Darcy needs friends who have no desire to presume upon him. I believe you to be that sort of person. That is all.”
Friends? Was that even possible? The idea of desiring Mr. Darcy’s company shocked her to her core. She could never! Or could she?
Sighing to herself at the injustice of needing to be amiable with someone who publicly slighted her, she said, “Very well.” If it gave Colonel Fitzwilliam peace, then she would make the effort.
Everything about Colonel Fitzwilliam, his countenance, his form, and his plain speaking attracted her. His easy smile, his confidence, and the kindness of his eyes made him exactly the man Elizabeth had dreamed of from her youth.
As Jane had done when she received the invitation, once the men were at a distance, Elizabeth’s hands shot to her chest as she spun in a circle. She would be opening her first private ball with a man she admired. Could she be any happier?
Darcy was livid.And concerned. Why on earth would Richard ask her for the first? Was his denial of his interest subterfuge?
Confronting his cousin once they returned to Netherfield Park, he stated, “You do know that if you cannot return in time, Miss Elizabeth will not be able to stand up with anyone else for the first. She is too polite not to wait for you even if there is no hope.”
Richard shrugged as he folded another shirt to stuff into his saddlebag. “I intend to make it back in plenty of time. Besides, it is less than a week to the ball, and she had no other requests.” Looking directly at his cousin, he continued. “If you wanted to dance with her, you should have asked.”
“I…I. You know that I cannot.”
“Cannot or will not?” His cousin stopped his activity to stare at him. “Darcy, I will not pretend interest in a woman I have no intention of pursuing. Nor will I deny my attraction to a worthy lady. Miss Elizabeth is the daughter of a gentleman with more life in her fingernail than most of the females in society. Where you apparently want a prized mare to breed and set on a mantel where she will not disturb your daily activities, I want someone who will make me laugh. I want to feel passion for the woman I wed, that intense longing to spend time together until we are old and gray. If you marry a woman of stone, that is all you will get: a wife who is cold, hard, and unfeeling.”
Had Richard slapped him across the face, Darcy could not have been more stunned. “You have no idea what I want.”
His cousin could not know how painful his words were because Darcy yearned for nothing more than the sort of life that Richard described, for the woman he described. Yet, despite the compelling picture, the simple truth was that being married to someone who would allow Darcy to be at ease around her posed a real danger of secrets being revealed, something he could not, no, would not allow to happen. Time and time again, harmful gossip flew through the ton that could be traced back to a wife who coerced secrets from her husband during intimate moments. Like the Biblical account of what Delilah did to Samson, Darcy could not risk being wed to someone he truly wanted, someone who could control him with her charms. If the strongest man in history could not resist beautiful Delilah, then how could he resist someone like Miss Elizabeth?
“Darcy, since the day your father died, your denial of anything that would bring joy into your life has made you overly critical. You sit on your exalted throne to keep everyone away. You have distanced yourself from Georgiana until she no longer knows who you are.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I love you more than my own brother, Darce. We grew up together. I knew you to be a good man with a heart of gold and a will of iron when you learned of an injustice. You are always quick to see to the needs of the people supporting Pemberley, and often, you helped others at university who struggled with class assignments. You used to laugh. Do you remember all the times we would sneak out to the stables to steal one of the barn cats so we could drop it in Pemberley’s kitchen? Cook would yell at us and threaten to chase us with her rolling pin for daring to invade her domain with the mongrel and for sneaking handfuls of biscuits from the tin while she was trying to get the cat out of the room. There were so many times we had fun together. Do you recall any of it?”
He hated that Richard spoke the truth. No longer able to look at his cousin, Darcy moved to the window. “I do.”
“Cousin, I know that losing your father and inheriting young was a terrible blow. The burden of your assets is heavier than even I can imagine, and I have a healthy imagination.” Richard stepped towards him. “It has changed you. Before, you would have smiled at Miss Elizabeth as you greeted her politely. You would have gleefully teased her back just to see the twinkle in her eye. And Wickham? Good lord, Darce! You are harsh toward Miss Elizabeth and lenient toward that reprobate. Why do you extend more mercy toward a man undeserving of it than a young lady who has done nothing to offend you? When he tried to elope with Georgie, you did little more than snarl at him. When I begged to end his life or see him banished for his sins, you stopped me cold. Where is your sense of justice? Where is your sense of decency?”
Darcy felt the blow grievously. He had been unfair, but he had his reasons, and they were valid. His father wrote of failures, consequences, and the potential for ruin. Darcy understood more than Richard what was at stake. If anyone had the right to be upset, it was Darcy, for in this, he had done nothing wrong. He carried the worry of whether Wickham would keep his word or not. He was burdened from every angle by the expectations and actions of others. Anger at the injustice of it all surged through each pore. “You question my honor? How dare you!”
“I dare because you permit Wickham to continue on his course where disaster always follows. What has he ever done for you but caused you heartache and grief? What will you do if he accosts one of Miss Elizabeth’s sisters or even Miss Elizabeth herself? Would you continue to do nothing? Or will you protect her as any gentleman should?”
Each taunting word was like a prick to his skin until his heart’s blood dripped from his fingertips. He had known there would be a day of reckoning with his cousin. Nevertheless, it could not be that day.
“You do not understand,” he whispered through gritted teeth. Since Eton, Wickham did anything within his power to gain his heart’s desire. It would only take one careless comment to open Pandora’s box, destroying Darcy’s name and his sister’s reputation.Had Wickham not been his brother, the least Darcy would have done was seen his carcass rot in Marshalsea or transported to Australia. But this he could not, no, he would not do.
Richard shook his head. “No, I do not. And I guess I will never understand. But I do know how to act. Know it now that I shall pursue Miss Elizabeth to win her friendship and nothing more. However, if I discover that our companionship could last a lifetime, then”—he pointed his finger at Darcy’s chest—“you stop gazing at her with longing. You stop accidentally seeking her out. And you stop thinking of the possibility of a future with her. Do you understand?”
He couldn’t breathe. Every inch of him was on fire. Closing his eyes, Darcy’s head fell back. The pain in his chest almost suffocated him. The cost of what Richard demanded was too great. Blast and damnation!
Emptiness threatened to drown him as he finally replied, “I do.”
“It is far too soon to know if we could love one another, and I might find something more diverting than a wife to keep me busy. But know this: once I make my decision, nothing or no one, not even you, will be able to stop me.”
His cousin never spoke less than the truth. These were not idle threats or promises. Darcy wanted to vomit.
Behind him, Richard crammed the rest of his gear into his saddlebags and left without another word.
Cursing under his breath, Darcy rubbed at his heart. He cursed his father for setting him on this course and for the journal he found that revealed the shocking truth. How was he to recover from such a blow? Everything he had ever known or believed changed with the turning of the page.
Leaning against the window’s edge, he watched his cousin strolling across the yard towards the stable. He respected Richard Fitzwilliam. He was a man of honor and incredible courage. He was the brother Darcy thought he never had. Everything he said about Georgiana, Wickham, and Miss Elizabeth was the truth.
In his heart, Darcy agreed with his cousin. Yet, if he veered from his course, if he fought for his desires, the destruction could cause his whole family to shatter. What on earth was he going to do?