Chapter Twenty-One #2
Elizabeth sighed, threw open the door to the grounds, and tugged Hugh through it into the sunken garden, the first of the many surrounding the house. She had a pressing need for fresh air. “Come. Bear me company for a few minutes.”
“With the Cit? She has gone riding with the Cit?”
“With Mr Bingley, yes.”
“As I said. With the Cit.”
“That is an ungentlemanly way to refer to a guest.”
“Pfft. He is not my guest!” Hugh kicked at the stones bordering a flowerbed. “I have no friends of his stamp.”
“I cannot deny he is not of the gentry, but he is a very gentleman-like man. He is well-educated, and has pleasing manners.”
“And is much richer than me. He must have twice my income, at least.”
“That does not matter to Jane.”
“Does it not? She pays him a great deal of attention. Does she favour him? Over me? Despite all I do to show her my deepest admiration and devotion?”
“Oh, Hugh.”
“I would not have thought it of her, that she would cast me aside in such a way!”
“She has done nothing of the sort! Do be sensible, Hugh. You cannot seriously claim an agreement between you and Jane. I know you admire her. I would think you blind if you did not. But there is no understanding between you.”
“She must know. She must. Have I not been clear enough?” He gave her a sharp nod.
“Then I will speak. I will make my intentions plain. My estate is not the equal of Pemberley”—and the glance at the house he cast over his shoulder spoke eloquently of his love for his home—“but it is at least the equal of Longbourn. I can offer her a very comfortable life.”
Oh, dear heavens. How to avert this? It could only have the worst possible outcome! But she must have hesitated too long, because Hugh, white-faced, suddenly cast off the hand she had put on his arm.
“She will refuse me. You believe she will refuse me!”
“We all love you dearly, Hugh, as our beloved cousin. A brother to Jane and the rest of us—”
“I do not wish to be Jane’s brother!” Hugh snapped out. “I wish to be yours!”
Oh Lord above! What could she say to that?
Hugh launched another kick at the brick edgings, dislodging several. He let out an inarticulate rage-filled roar.
“What on earth is going on?” Mr Darcy demanded.
Elizabeth spun around to face George and Mr Darcy. They had emerged from the house unseen and unheard, and both now regarded Hugh in patent surprise. If there was a touch of amusement also, particularly on Mr Darcy’s face, Elizabeth could only pray Hugh would not see it.
Hugh turned. “You!”
Mr Darcy blinked and the faint amusement faded. Perhaps because of the undisguised loathing in Hugh’s tone. “Are you surprised to see me in my own garden?”
“Huh!” was the only response.
“What is amiss?” George asked, looking from one brother to the other, frowning.
“I will tell you what is amiss, George. That… that parvenu, that Johnny Newcome, has gone riding with Jane.” Hugh cast his brother a glance filled with the same loathing that coloured his tone.
“Your very good friend, Brother, is playing with Jane’s affections and sensibilities! How dare you bring him here? How dare—”
“I dare do anything I wish in my own house.” Mr Darcy tone was winter personified, with the clarity of jagged ice.
Hugh’s answering grimace was a terrible thing to see.
“Hugh. Hugh, please,” Elizabeth begged, reaching out, but once again he flung her hand away.
“Stop that, you young cawker,” George snapped. “If you hurt Lizzy, you will answer to me!”
“And who will answer for that Cit imposing on Jane? Who will answer for that!”
“Do cease enacting such a Cheltenham Tragedy, I beg you.” Mr Darcy took a step forward to stand at Elizabeth’s side.
“And rein in your temper in the presence of a lady to whom you owe nothing but the deepest respect! I will not have it. Whatever your quarrel with me—or with Bingley—you will not vent your spite on Miss Elizabeth. Are we understood?”
“Jane would not have looked at him if you had not dazzled her yourself with your attentions, raising her expectations and showing her she might look above me! I told you to leave my cousins be!”
“Hugh Darcy! If you think Jane is a heartless mercenary, then you do not know us!” Elizabeth would have taken a step forward, reaching for Hugh’s shoulders to shake some sense into him, but Mr Darcy’s hand on her arm restrained her. He tugged her back, most gently.
“She is beguiled by him.” Hugh clenched his fists, his face twisted into a sneer. “Entranced by his money and his soft words. If I had Pemberley as I should have had, she would take me, and Bingley might go hang!”
“Hugh! Jane does not care about that!”
“You would scarcely wish to marry any lady in such circumstances.” The frost was back in Mr Darcy’s tone, freezing all who heard it.
“I would marry her tomorrow. She is the only woman I shall ever love! Until you came here, I had every expectation of persuading her to accept my suit, before you brought that man into the house.” Hugh flung both arms up.
“Dear God, why could you not have been killed by some savage somewhere? Why could not I have had Pemberley?”
“Hugh!” Elizabeth barely breathed out her cousin’s name.
“I love Pemberley. But you… it is only a house to you, is it not? Not your home, not a place woven into your very bones as it is woven into mine.” Hugh’s hands dropped to his side, and his wild, angry tones of a moment earlier were now sad and defeated, heavy with loss.
“And now I cannot call it home any longer. It is more than I can bear.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked off towards the gate leading out to the estate, heedless of the calls Elizabeth and George sent after him.
“Oh, good heavens.” Elizabeth put a hand over her mouth and took in several deep breaths to steady herself. Everything was so shaky for a few moments, so uncertain, so thick with anger and pain and envy, it would be a relief to emulate Hugh and kick at the bricks. Or to cry.
“The young fool,” George said, half in sorrow, half exasperation.
“I am sure he did not mean it. He is overwrought.” Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, in the hope the tears could be suppressed.
Mr Darcy sounded exasperated. “It is unconscionable that he should subject you to such a scene. His behaviour is outrageous.”
“I am so sorry. I should have been quicker to reassure him.”
“You bear no responsibility for this, Miss Elizabeth. None. Please do not blame yourself. Hugh has… ” Mr Darcy frowned and raised one hand in a helpless gesture.
“He has struggled since my arrival. The loss of our father, his wishes regarding Pemberley, his admiration for Miss Bennet… all have wrought on him. He is very young.”
George snorted. “At his age, Fitzwilliam, you were undertaking your first mission on behalf of the king. No, Hugh is spoiled and over-indulged. His dislike is born out of envy and disappointment.” George pursed his lips. “I tell you, he is not to be trusted when in such an ungovernable temper.”
“George, please,” Elizabeth said, imploring, but the loud crash of masonry flashed into her memory, and the stink of fire. She found herself shuddering.
Mr Darcy marked it at once. “You are shocked, Miss Elizabeth, and must rest. George, I beg you go after the young fool and see what you may do to calm him. Allow me to escort you indoors, ma’am.”
“No. I must walk. I must, before I can face my aunt. I would not have her know of this for the world, and distress her so. I will walk.”
“Lizzy…” George started, but she shook her head.
“I am well. Please go and calm Hugh. He will listen to you, I am certain. Please.” She touched his arm. “I trust you to see to him, George.”
George hesitated, then nodded. He bowed over her hand, raising it to his lips, then followed Hugh on the same path to the gate leading out onto the estate.
Mr Darcy regarded her carefully.
“Do you suspect Hugh of some malignant intent? George implies it.” When he did not answer immediately, she went on, “Sir, I know you would prefer to keep your counsel about such things. I do not blame you. And I am likely to be the last person in whom you would wish to confide, as unrelated as we are. But Hugh is my cousin, and dear to me. He is very unhappy. He loves Pemberley. His lack of moderation… oh…” Elizabeth sighed, despite her efforts to suppress it.
“Mr Darcy, while I think he deserves every chastisement you inflict on him for his behaviour, I cannot believe him to be a danger. The fractures in the family are growing into chasms. It is dreadful, and I do not know how to heal them.”
“Will you accept my company on your walk?” was all he said.
“Ah…” She floundered for a moment, then sighed again, not pretending to hide it. “I would be honoured.”
She took the arm he proffered and they went out a side gate, leaving the sunken garden for the lawns sloping down to the lake.
He spoke when they turned to follow the lake path clockwise. “I do not hesitate to confide in you, as you put it, Miss Elizabeth, through mistrust or because of a lack of familial ties. I do, in fact, trust your good sense and judgement. I hesitate because I would not add to your concerns.”
“My concern is that Hugh is an utter fool.”
“I deplore his language and his voicing his feelings at all, but I do understand his sense of displacement. I was here so seldom as a boy, and I have not been here at all these last five years. I do not feel the same connection to Pemberley. I do not love it as he does.”
“It is his home.”
He nodded. “But not quite mine.”
“Not yet, perhaps. You have been absent for so long, no one would cavil at your need to grow accustomed to these new circumstances. Hugh acting worse than a boy denied a nursery treat does not help. But truly, that display of ungoverned emotion, of a lack of moderation… that is Hugh. More… any kind of malice… I cannot believe it of him. For all his temper, he has not that darkness in him. I am sure of it.”
“I hope Hugh strives to be worthy of your good opinion.”
“Oh, I am not blind to his faults, but I assure you, sir, Hugh has many excellent qualities too. He is heartsore and heedless at the moment. He… he loves Jane, as you know.”
“Goaded by the disillusion of a failed first love.” Amusement warmed Mr Darcy’s voice, chasing away the last lingering frosts of earlier.
She smiled slightly. “He is not so very old yet, and feels things sharply. Philosophy and resignation come with age and experience, they say.”
He laughed aloud. “You are very wise, Miss Elizabeth, and yet Hugh is older than you.”
“Women age more swiftly. Our position in life is less secure. We do not have your opportunities, and that forces us to blossom early, the way your gardener forces the plants in the hothouse.”
“A point I had not considered before.”
“Forgive me. I should not be maundering on about such things after the scene we just endured. You have more important matters to consider.”
“Not at all. I am enjoying our conversation. You possess the talent which I lack, of conversing with ease and grace, catching other people’s tones and interests, showing a genuine sympathy with their concerns. It is admirable.”
“You are very kind. But surely, your work for the king means you have some talents in that way.”
“I practised most assiduously, I assure you. I do not have your ready facility. As does Hugh, I must acknowledge. He can be pleasant company when he wishes to be.”
“But what Geor— that is, what Mr Wickham said, is true. You were already engaged in missions for the Colonial Office at Hugh’s age.”
“Yes. My father was hale and hearty when I was finished with Cambridge, and he needed no assistance to manage Pemberley. I had no wish to copy the behaviour of so many elder sons, rootless and idle while they await their inheritance, prey to every Captain Sharp in Town. Such men seldom account for much in the end. My uncle, of course, knows everyone in government. Lord Camden was Secretary of State in the year five. Although he is of the opposite party to my uncle’s interest, they respect each other, and the earl recommended me to his lordship.
I went first to the Americas, and have remained in service until now. ”
“I do envy your adventures. Although”—and here Elizabeth was able to laugh at last—“I remember the climate of a place was more fixed in your mind than its more exciting attributes.”
“What a lout I was the evening I arrived! I assure you I appreciate now your attempts to put us all at our ease, but I was a bear that night, thinking only of my own discomfort. I was never close to Mrs Darcy, you see, and Hugh’s resentful behaviour set me on edge.
I never properly apologised, either, which is wrong of me.
I hope you will forgive me for my unfriendly demeanour. It truly was not directed at you.”
“I know, sir. Please think on it no more.”
He smiled. “You are far kinder than I deserve.” He smiled, his habitual reserve melted away.
“May I tempt you into taking another circuit of the lake? As I said, I practised most assiduously what little art I have for conversation. I would be glad of more practice, and, moreover, be pleased to take tuition from a mistress of the craft.”
“It seems to me you gained some mastery, if such silver-tongued compliments flow so easily. But yes, sir. I would be delighted to walk with you—and school you.”
Truly, his smile was most becoming, and he allowed her impertinence with a laugh. “The delight, Miss Elizabeth, is all mine.”