Chapter Eighteen
Darcy heard the quick double tap on his bedchamber door, recognizing Richard’s signature knock.
His valet carefully laid down the single-edged razor, wiped his hands, and opened the door to admit him.
He then calmly took back up his task and finished shaving his employer.
While he waited, his cousin paced to the window and stood overlooking the back garden which led to the mews and stables.
Once his face was cleaned of all soapy residue Darcy stood and shrugged into his tailored jacket, and patiently waited while Jenkins tied his cravat in what looked like deceptively simple knots. Only then did he address his cousin.
“Did you sleep well?”
Richard had stayed the night following the evening of cards. This was not out of the norm, but now that there was a woman involved, his cousin’s interest in staying at his house instead of his parent’s, only a few short blocks away, was suspect at best.
“I did.” Richard made to turn from the window but suddenly leaned in, his attention centered on the activity outside. “Bingley has arrived.”
“This early?”
Darcy strode to the window and joined his cousin looking down onto the mews.
“He looks a little haggard,” Richard said with more than a little self-satisfaction threaded throughout his tone.
“I may as well go down and wait for him. Jenkins, advise Burke I will see Mr. Bingley in the library and have him send in some coffee.” He crossed the room and said to Richard as they walked down the stairs together, “I will see you later for breakfast, then.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Richard tutted. “You are stuck with me like mortar to brick. Your flibbertigibbet friend is here to talk about his angel and if you think I am going to trot off like a good little boy until you are done, think again.”
Darcy held back a sigh of defeat. His cousin was tenacious and would not back down or retreat in the face of an adversary, no matter from what quarter.
“Very well, but please do not kill him. I had the rugs cleaned a few short months ago from when you spilled that brandy.”
“That was not me, it was Ashton.”
“I blame you both. You are too old to wrestle with your brother over who gets the first taste of my father’s French brandy.”
“You wound me, cousin. You are never too old to fight for a good brandy… or a good woman.”
Richard stopped at the study door and opened the door.
“After you, kind sir.”
They each settled into a chair and awaited the announcement of Bingley’s arrival.
“Mr. Bingley, sir,” Burke said after knocking lightly and pushing the door open.
Bingley hurried into the room, greeting the two men with a garbled good morning. He then realized he still had his hat in hand and handed it to Burke before advancing a few steps. Darcy took this time to study his friend and, Richard was right, he did look quite unkempt.
“Have you slept at all, Bingley?”
“Not a wink. Caroline ranted for most of the night and when she finally went to bed, I found my mind would not stop thinking.”
“That must have been a novel experience,” Richard muttered under his breath.
“This is my fault,” Darcy said and gave Richard a look that told him to keep his opinions to himself. “I should have sent a note and canceled last evening’s activities.”
“But why?” Bingley sputtered. “We have always come for Twelfth Night.”
“Charles, you must realize how awkward it was for everyone involved.”
“I know there is no love lost between Caroline and Mrs. Darcy, but surely we can all get past that as we might soon all be family.”
“What exactly do you mean you could soon all be family?” Richard asked in a deadly quiet voice.
Darcy instinctively tensed, ready to come between the two men if needed. Relief washed over his shoulders when Mrs. Whittaker appeared with a tray of coffee and biscuits.
“Thank you, Mrs. Whittaker. Has my wife called for her maid yet?”
“She’s already out and about on her walk.” At his look of concern, she hastened to appease his worry. “She always goes with one sturdy footman, Mr. Darcy. She knows not to walk alone.”
“Very good. That will be all, thank you.”
She poured them each a cup of coffee and then left the room.
“You did not answer my question. What did you mean by family?”
Richard had eased back in his chair, taking a sip of the strong brew. Bingley picked up the silver tongs and dropped four pressed sugar lumps into his coffee. As he stirred the sugar to dissolve, he answered.
“I know I left Meryton quite precipitously last November, but before that, I am confident Miss Bennet held me in some regard. I mean to renew our courtship and ask her to be my wife.”
“If you knew she held you in some regard, why did you leave?” Richard asked, his voice dangerously soft. “Did you not think she would wonder why a gentleman, who had given her his undivided attention, would leave like a thief in the night?”
“I did not leave like a thief in the night!”
“You left the area without saying your farewells to any of the residents of Meryton, least of all the Bennets.”
“There was so much confusion following the… the incident at the ball.” Bingley chewed his lip, seemingly deep in thought. It became quite apparent he was agitated. “Do you think I should speak with Jane… er, Miss Bennet?” he finally blurted out. “You know, to explain my reasons?”
“No.” Darcy gave a sad shake of his head. “It is time for you to find another lady.”
“But surely she will forgive–”
“I am under the impression that she is, at present, being courted by another gentleman.”
“She lost her affection for me so quickly?”
Richard grunted and Darcy was close enough to him to hear him grumble, ‘Insolent pup.’ Bingley may not have heard what was said, but he knew Richard had said something.
“What do you make of all this, Colonel?”
“While you attended balls and charmed other women, did you think Miss Bennet waited by her window in the faint hope of your eventual return?” Richard leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other.
A picture of deceptive calm. “I can tell you, for a fact, Miss Bennet is being courted by another gentleman.”
“By whom?” Bingley demanded.
“Me.”
Richard gave him what could only be called an insolent smile.
“You!”
“Charles—” Darcy began.
“You knew of this?”
Bingley’s focus switched from Richard to him.
“I only found out myself last night. My cousin and I have not had time to discuss details.”
“What…? How….?” Bingley ran a hand through his hair, causing the red gold curls to fall about in a tangled mess. “You always said you had to marry a wealthy woman. How can you afford to wed someone like Miss Bennet?”
“Bingley is not wrong to ask you that question,” Darcy interjected because his cousin looked as though he wished to take the younger man apart with his bare hands.
“It is common knowledge the Bennet sisters do not have much by way of a dowry.” He held up a hand when his cousin began to argue.
“They have a nice portion from all the careful planning Elizabeth and her uncle have done, but not enough for an estate or any type of comfortable housing.”
“I do have an estate.”
“You do?”
“What estate?”
Bingley and Darcy spoke at the same time. Richard chose to answer Darcy.
“The one mother brought with her when she married. It is hers to bequeath as she sees fit and as she had no daughters, it is mine whenever I wish to take possession.”
“What will you do for money? You cannot live on love.”
Darcy well knew his cousin made a healthy living for a single man but supporting a wife and future children would be difficult at best.
“Not that it is any of your business, but I have a nice tidy sum saved and the estate clears about four thousand pounds per annum.”
“That much?”
“Aye.”
“Wait one minute,” Bingley finally sputtered out. “Are you attempting to steal Jane from me?”
Richard directed a hard glare toward the younger man, disdain etched on every feature of his face. At least, Darcy recognized it as disdain. Bingley did not know his cousin as well as him.
“Miss Bennet is not yours to steal. You fled Meryton at the first whiff of scandal and your sister followed up on your atrocious behavior in the form of a poison pen letter, spelling out in clear concise terms what she thought of Miss Bennet and her family. She also outright lied in saying you were betrothed to Georgiana. As one of her guardians, I find that piece of gossip highly offensive.”
“She would never do that.”
“I have read the letter, Bingley. She did exactly that.” Darcy said quietly.
“But why?”
“Are you daft, man!” Richard finally exploded and stomped to the far side of the room before turning around.
Darcy saw his hand clench and unclench into a fist and knew he’d purposefully distanced himself from Bingley to stop from taking a well-aimed jab at his face.
His cousin, having gained control of his anger, stalked back toward Darcy and Bingley, his steps measured and firm.
“Your sister continually maligns Miss Bennet and Elizabeth. Her tongue is so spiteful it is a wonder she can taste any food or drink over the bitterness which fills her mouth.”
“Caroline wants only what is best for me.”
“Believe that if you must, but your sister looks out for only one person, and that is herself.”
“I do not understand. When… where did you meet Miss Bennet?”
“I met Jane” – Bingley winced at Richard’s use of her given name – “when I attended Meryton on business with the militia not long after Darcy and Elizabeth wed and knew immediately, she was a lady of refined manners and gentle disposition.” He gave Bingley the gimlet eye.
“I did not require anyone’s permission to court the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld.
Beautiful not only in physical composition but in her soul. ”
“I am very aware of her good nature.”
“Are you? What else are you aware of? Tell me some things about this woman you claim to love.”