Chapter Fourteen
“En garde!” Darcy said before lunging at his fencing partner.
“Enough!” Richard called and skillfully danced out of reach of his cousin’s epee. “We have been at this for almost two hours. I believe we have earned respite.”
“I will find another partner then.” Darcy cast his gaze about the room in pursuit of a worthy opponent, pausing when his cousin laid a large hand on his forearm.
“If you continue in this madcap behavior, you will injure yourself.” He firmed his grip when Darcy would have pulled his arm away. “That is an order.”
He looked from the hand to his cousin’s face and saw worry and anger. It was only when he nodded in agreement, that Richard loosened his grip.
“Freshen up and we will go to White’s for a talk.”
“I have already been at White’s today.”
“You have?”
“Aye, I met with Bingley.”
“Now we definitely need to talk. I will wait for you at the door.”
“Yes, sir.” Darcy mock saluted him.
“You would have made a good soldier, Darcy. Too bad you are tied to that pile of rocks in Derbyshire.”
“That pile of rocks, in one form or another, has been in the family since the eleventh century. The eldest son has always been anchored to it. But that’s nowt to do wi’ whot yo’ axt me,” he said, slipping into the soft northern cant of Derbyshire.
“I do not believe I asked, I believe I ordered you to come with me to White’s for a drink.” Richard grabbed a linen handkerchief from one of the small stacks scattered about the room and wiped the sweat from around his neck.
“Aw’ve drunk mony a quart there, but nowt today.”
“It is almost like your stable master is standing before me,” Richard chuckled.
“I spent much time in Mr. McAllister’s company during my formative years.”
“Good man, McAllister. Now, let us be off.”
“Richard, I truly do not want to go to White’s twice in one day.”
“We shall go to Matlock House and delve into the pater’s illicit horde of French brandy and then you will tell me what you and Bing-a-bong talked about.”
“I wish you would not call him by that horrid name.”
Richard stopped walking and Darcy nearly plowed into his back.
“Bingley” – Richard stressed the name – “bounces about like a puppy, always searching for a new distraction. Bing-a-bong is an apt description.”
“He is attempting to change.”
“Humph…” was all Richard said and stayed silent until they were in the carriage on their way to his family’s townhouse. It was not until they were safely ensconced in his father’s library, with a full glass of brandy in his hand that he broke his silence. “Why are you avoiding your house?”
Darcy choked on his drink.
“Why do you say that?”
“Fine, have it your way. What did your cook serve for dinner last night?”
“Fish.”
“Which you did not finish. And the night before?”
“It has slipped my memory.”
“For a man who can recall, with startling clarity, every line of poetry or verse from obscure books dating back to the fourteenth century, if not further, I find it hard to believe you cannot recollect what you ate the night before last. Especially as the hostess was Mrs. Bennet, known for setting a good table, and I am certain if pressed, you cannot tell me what was served at your house the past three nights before you went to Hertfordshire.”
“What do you want from me, Richard?”
“Word has filtered out you have married and people are beginning to talk. The vultures wonder why a newly married man avoids his wife. Before you know it, they will whisper you have started re-visiting that little house you bought near Drury Lane.”
“It has lain empty since last summer.” Darcy studied the flames which danced in the fireplace. “How do you know these things?”
“You forget what I do for a living. I stay alive by being aware of what is happening around me.”
“Aye, you do have a sixth sense in that regard. Too bad you were on the Continent when Wickham was sniffing around my sister’s skirts.”
“Water under the bridge. As we speak, he is most likely hanging over the side of a ship, puking his guts out. Crossing the Atlantic in winter is not fun.”
“Rough seas?”
“Very rough.”
“Excellent.” Darcy smiled against the edge of his cut glass tumbler before enjoying a taste of his port brandy. “At least one good thing has happened this past month.”
“I would say two good things. You keep forgetting that you have a delightful wife, one whom you have been assiduously avoiding.”
“She is most desirous of me not attending her.”
“Can you blame her? You have treated her and her family most abominably.”
“She accused me of separating her sister from Bingley.”
“You may not have said the words, but you made sure he did not hold them with any regard when you left Meryton.” Richard took a sip of his drink. “Even during my short stay at Longbourn, I heard how he and his sisters fled without a word of farewell.”
“Oh, there were words given, in the form of a poison pen letter by Miss Bingley to Miss Bennet. Her uncle had me read it when I was there to have the new settlement signed.”
“Bennet mentioned the letter but I did not read it.”
“Ahh… finally. Something of which you have no first-hand knowledge. I shall have to mark this day on my calendar.”
“I knew it was harsh, but I would like to know what the orange shrew wrote.”
“I cannot repeat verbatim, but suffice to say, she told Miss Bennet she would consign all correspondence from her to the fire and give her the cut direct if seen. She then broadly hinted – no, that is too soft – she bragged of an anticipated alliance between Bingley and Georgiana and that both sides of the family were all in favor.”
“She is dead to me, Darcy. Pray she does not come across me at any future functions.”
“I told Elizabeth I would speak with Bingley and tell him the truth of the matter. We also discussed other things. Private things,” he said, lowering his brow toward his cousin in a warning. “I will apprise her of our conversation when I see her tonight.”
“No need, you will see her in a few minutes.”
“We are going to my house?”
“No, she is here as we speak.”
“Here!”
“Yes, having tea with the mater.”
“Why was I not told?”
“If you had broken your fast with your wife this morning, you would have been there when Mother sent a note. Instead, you hared off to White’s to placate your pet puppy.”
“Why do you hate Bingley?”
“Because he refuses to grow up. He allows his younger sister to lead him about by the nose and lives off the largesse of his brother by marriage or you, when in Town. This vacation he enjoyed in Meryton taught him nothing but how to throw a ball and how to leave a young woman behind. A young woman who has since borne gossip and derision of the acutest kind from neighbors and friends.”
“He gave her no promises.”
“No? Did he not say he was throwing the ball in her honor?” Richard did not wait for an answer before moving on.
“Did he not dance the first set with her? And even though they did not dance the promised supper set because the whole family decamped to Longbourn after your tryst on the terrace, he had also claimed the final set.” Richard set down his now empty glass.
“Let me ask you something. If any gentleman danced with a lady three times at one of these fancy balls we attend here in town, what do you think would be the consensus of the ton?”
“They may as well have posted the banns.”
“Yet, he ran off to London because he thought his friend was not doing the honorable thing. The promise was implied.” Richard leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin.
“Funny thing, society. The Bingleys firmly believe you have not behaved in an honorable manner and still wish to curry your favor. Because of that, they left the Bennet family to navigate what they knew would have been a sea of vicious rumors and innuendo.” He straightened.
“No, I cannot like him, or his ungrateful shrew of a sister.”
“Richard, I cannot change what has happened. I can only move forward.”
“Hiding from your wife will not solve your problems.”
“I am giving her space.”
“Woo your wife, Darcy. She does not require space; she requires your presence so that she may come to know you.”
“When you begin to sound like one of Byron’s poems, I know our conversation has concluded.”
“You know I am right, and we begin your campaign now.”
Richard stood and straightened his jacket, Darcy followed after putting down his almost full glass.
“Now?” he asked.
“We join the ladies for tea.”
***
Darcy and Richard paused before entering the drawing room.
He heard the ladies chattering in a lively fashion but did not understand a word.
He glanced at Richard and noticed him smiling.
At his questioning glance, Richard said in a low voice.
“Your wife just told mother’s guest they should continue conversing in English so as not to be thought rude. ”
“You understood what Elizabeth said?”
“I spent some time in Spain under Wellington. I learned enough to get by while there” At Darcy’s still bewildered expression, he asked, “Have you forgotten your wife’s mother was Spanish?”
He had but felt compelled to defend himself.
“Of course not! Do not be daft.”
He made to enter the room and the footman took hold of the door handle. Both paused when Richard cleared his throat.
“Did I tell you her grandfather was nobility? A distant cousin to the King of Spain?”
“Mr. Bennet made me aware of her connections, something you conveniently did not share. Anything else I should know before we join your mother?”
“Well,” Richard looked a bit sheepish. “From what I have heard so far, the lady they are entertaining is the Spanish ambassador’s wife and she has just told your wife they expect the King to be pleased with the marriage. Her husband sent a letter as soon as he received her note.”
Darcy processed this information before Richard nodded at the footman to open the door. He did his best to smooth his expression and thought he was successful until his cousin elbowed him in the ribs.
“Stop scowling.”
“I am not scowling.”