Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A TERRIBLE DISCOVERY
Richard,
I have seen her. I joined Bingley at Netherfield to shoot.
We paid our respects to the ladies at Longbourn, as expected.
The company were all very gracious—I confess, they improve upon better acquaintance, although Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of course, has always been above reproach.
Alas, she ties my tongue! I sit with her, and my brain rebels against me.
I can think of not a single witty thing to say, nor even several dull ones.
Perhaps if I loved her less, I could speak to her more, but such is not my lot.
I must, I think, do as Collins does and devise a series of pretty little gems of speech to strew along my path before her.
Do not choke on your coffee, Richard. I jest.
However, I have some hope. She does seem to look upon me with kinder eyes.
I have learned my lesson about seeing only what I wish to see, and I do believe this to be her genuine sentiment now.
She moves closer to me when I sit and smiles a great deal in my presence.
I believe she wishes me to engage her in conversation, if only my brain would rouse itself to the task.
Tomorrow I must return to London for some days to take care of estate business that cannot be put off. I hope you will have leave to join me for a day or two before I go back to Hertfordshire to try my luck again.
Will Saturday the 12th suit? Then you can remain until Monday morning.
Your affectionate cousin,
FD
Monday, October 5
Richard,
You will not believe this, or rather, perhaps you have expected it daily. Bingley has proposed to Miss Jane Bennet, and she has accepted him. He wrote of it last night. I feel responsible for the delay in his felicity, and thus I am doubly happy for him.
I have put in some more bottles of brandy in anticipation of your coming visit.
Yours,
FD
The following Friday evening, Richard knocked once more upon Darcy’s front door. “I have come for my brandy!” he called out, letting his jovial voice ring through the front hall as the housekeeper closed the door behind him.
“Of course you have,” came Darcy’s rejoinder from the library. “Once you have rid yourself of your baggage, come and join me and I shall see what I can procure. I have a grand bottle from Manchester…”
This was answered with a snort. “You do have a sense of humour! ‘Tis a pity it is so seldom taken out in public. Perhaps if you let a certain young lady see it, she might think quite well of you!”
Before long the cousins were settled in the library with their drinks and a dinner tray before each.
The conversation was light, and both men were soon laughing, but after a time Richard changed the topic.
“I have something of a more serious nature to ask of you.” He placed his brandy glass on the table and crossed his legs at the ankle.
“This sounds ominous!”
“Not so calamitous, at least not to me. Or, not directly, anyway. But dire enough to the people concerned. It is about Barrow…”
“Oh, yes! How does he do? I ought, by all rights, to have asked after him the moment you appeared. I did stop by a week ago to inquire after his progress but did not stay longer than to hear he was slowly recovering. Is he much changed?”
Richard exhaled. “No, not much changed. He is growing stronger, and Dr. Jacobi believes he will recover well, or at least, as well as might be expected. But he can no longer discharge his military duties and Emily insists that London is not the place to best protect his health. She wishes to find a suitable house where they might all live, somewhere outside of the city. Do you know of any such place, perhaps in one of Pemberley’s villages, or in one of the nearby towns?
They are, as you know, genteel people and would be a worthy addition to any appropriate community. ”
Darcy held his glass in his hands, swirling the amber liquid around the crystal cup. “Does Miss Barrow know you are asking this? I have learned the hard way that not all good intentions are suitably received.”
“Miss Elizabeth?”
Darcy closed his eyes and sighed. “My ears are still ringing from the set-down she gave me. I was angry at first, but I hope I have learned to be a better man. Now if only I could untie my tongue to speak to her…”
“Perhaps you ought not to try so hard. She is a delightful and rational woman. Speak to her as you would to a man—well, perhaps without the oaths—and let her see who you really are. She will appreciate being admired for her intelligence.” Richard picked up his glass.
“And to your point, yes. I did indeed ask, and yes, I was rewarded for my thoughtfulness.”
Darcy pondered his brandy for a while. “I cannot think of any such place on my lands, but perhaps you ought to look closer to home.”
Richard frowned. “Whatever can you mean?”
“You will think of it yourself, my friend, when the time is right.” Darcy laughed and suggested a game of billiards before the two cousins retired to their rooms for the night.
Saturday and Sunday were spent as so many had been before, with visits to the Barrows and many pleasant hours in Darcy’s company.
Barrow was looking much improved, even if he complained about lying about like yesterday’s rubbish, and some colour was returning to his face.
He might even, he said, be permitted to stand soon and try to walk.
Richard was greatly cheered to see his friend return to some health.
On Sunday night, the cousins had finished dinner and had just concluded a friendly game of billiards. Richard had to leave early in the morning to return to the camp and was about to say goodnight when a great rattling din shook the front door.
“Let me in! I demand to be admitted!” The too-familiar strident voice sounded clearly through the thick wood.
“Aunt Catherine?” Richard felt his eyes roll. He was certain she had not been invited. His planned early night could go to the devil. This boded some excellent entertainment. Aunt Catherine’s visits seldom passed without drama. Richard stifled a smirk.
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “What in blazes is she doing here?” No, definitely not invited.
“Let me in, I say!”
Richard heard the housekeeper shuffle to the door, and moments later, Lady Catherine de Burgh strode into the billiards room.
She wasted no time in greetings and pleasantries. Not a breath was spent inquiring after her nephew’s health, or that of her niece. She seemed not to notice Richard at all. Instead, she burst out in a storm of fury.
“Darcy, to shame. I am most seriously displeased. I demand to be satisfied! I insist that you tell me the truth.” She glared at her nephew, her eyes black and her face thunderous.
For his part, Darcy looked quite befuddled. “Will you sit down, Aunt? Let me call for some tea, or a glass of wine. Perhaps you can explain —”
“I will not sit, nor will I rest until you assure me that she is deceiving me. I will not tolerate it! Insolent, headstrong girl!”
Ah! Aunt Catherine must be speaking of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Richard gave up the last thoughts of an early evening and leaned back against a bookshelf, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankle, the better to watch the show playing out before him.
“Aunt!” Darcy all but yelled at her. His patience must be growing very thin. Richard could not think of the last time he had heard Darcy raise his voice. “What is it, exactly, that has happened? You will explain yourself politely, or I shall ask you to leave my house.”
The imperious lady slammed her cane down on the marble floor with a loud crack.
“Do not play the innocent with me, young man. You know exactly of what I speak. I have just come from there this very night. From Longbourn, of course! Hertfordshire—the thought of it. Impossible. A very fine lady she must think herself, to talk back to me like that!”
Light dawned in Darcy’s eyes. “You have spoken to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” He did not look pleased.
“She plainly refuses to deny it. You must tell me the truth. You cannot seriously be thinking of marrying that… that insolent chit. You are, after all, engaged to your cousin Anne.”
“Pray tell, Aunt, what exactly did she say?” His voice was tight. This was no idle repartee.
“I confronted her with the knowledge that you were engaged to be married. When I pressed enough, she had the grace to deny it, but refused—she refused me!—to state that she would never enter into an engagement with you. The audacity! The impudence! To think that she might darken the shades of Pemberley as its mistress.” The older woman’s eyes narrowed to slits below glowering brows.
A wide smile spread across Darcy’s face. In all his memories, Richard could not recall his cousin looking as delighted as he was now. As Darcy’s expression cleared, Aunt Catherine’s darkened.
“And that is all she had to say?” he asked.
“I pressed her, but in her obstinacy, she would not yield! She insisted, even, that I had mistaken her character by believing she might be swayed by my application. Furthermore, she cast aspersions on how you might think of my actions. I am not interfering in your affairs. No! I am merely asserting my rights as head of the family to insist upon you marrying Anne. Now, I must hear it from you: Do you promise never to enter into an engagement with Miss Bennet?”
To his aunt’s ultimate humiliation, Darcy began to laugh. It was not a chuckle or a quiet giggle, but a loud and most ungentlemanly belly-laugh.
“I am afraid you must be going, Aunt Catherine,” he said when he was under better regulation.
“Your nephew Richard must depart very early for his camp, and I, likewise, must quit London at once for Hertfordshire. I find, suddenly, that my presence there is of the utmost importance. Franks? Please throw… I mean show Lady Catherine out. Good night, Aunt.”