Chapter 24 Foiled
Richard disrobed and banked his fire. “Reeves, bring up my bath water at six. I doubt Darcy will need your services before then.”
“Very good, sir.”
His laundry was bundled in the crook of Reeves’s arm, and Richard grinned as he thought of his taciturn cousin.
Darcy was paying dearly for his impolitic manners.
This country girl was schooling him proper.
He chuckled. How long would she make him wait before she allowed him into her bed?
He deserved every bit of her censure. Darcy was proud and had fallen into the habit of speaking harsh judgments without cause and without reprimand.
He had been on his own since the elder Mr. Darcy’s death, and even before then, the man could do no wrong in his father’s eyes.
He had always been allowed to behave just as he pleased.
Well, no more. This lively Hertfordshire girl was his equal in every stubborn particular.
Richard laughed softly and wondered if his elegant, proud cousin would make his bed on the floor, the couch, or a cot in the dressing room.
Still laughing, he extinguished the candles, rolled over, and drifted into sleep.
Around the witching hour, he started awake and lay still, listening.
Someone was in his room. He reached beneath his pillow, closed his hand around his pistol, and waited.
Light footsteps approached the bed. The sound told him it was a woman walking barefoot.
He relaxed, wondering if one of the servants had cast her eye on him.
How had he failed to notice? His brow furrowed.
He felt sure he had locked the door. Richard watched through half-closed eyes.
Caroline Bingley.
She skirted the edge of his bed and came around to the far side. She wore an expensive, transparent negligee that left little to the imagination. What devilry was this? Did she think to compromise him, a military man, to avenge herself upon his cousin? He stifled a grunt and remained still.
He felt the bed dip. From the corner of his eye, he saw her hesitate.
It was too dark for her to see him clearly in the shadows, but he could make her out in the faint moonlight that slipped through the gap in the drapes.
He never slept with the windows shut nor the curtains drawn; after years of sleeping in open fields, he could not bear to be stifled indoors.
She slid beneath the covers and pulled the coverlet up to her chin, then she lay her head on the pillow.
So, she would not invade his body, only his room and his bed.
Well, perhaps there was some shred of decency left in her, though he doubted it; any woman who would enter a man’s bedchamber dressed as she was possessed no true modesty.
The scent of wine lingered in the air, faint but unmistakable.
So, she was a trifle disguised. That explained it.
He had thought Miss Bingley a malcontent, quick to take offense, but not wanton.
Drink, it seemed, had loosened what little restraint she possessed.
He waited a few minutes longer, but she did not move.
So, he thought. Miss Caroline Bingley, you mean to wait until morning, when the servants find us together? We shall see about that.
He rolled out of his bed, strode to the door, and turned the key. He had locked them both in, then he took his time locating the tinderbox and then lighting his candle.
“Well, well, what have we here? A tryst or a compromise, Miss Bingley?”
She gasped. “You locked me in! How dare you!”
“How dare I indeed,” he said coldly. “This is my bedchamber, my bed, and now you have placed yourself in my power. I dare very easily, madam. What did you expect of a hardened military man, certainly not restraint?”
He crossed to where she lay, candle in one hand, his pistol in the other, and stood towering over the bed, his eyes narrowed as he looked at her.
“Move away, you naked devil, or I will scream!”
He gave a low, menacing laugh. “Scream away, my dear. When you do, I shall become the fortunate owner of a twenty-thousand-pound dowry which will be entirely under my control. It is only fair to tell you I am a pinch-penny, my girl, no more lavish gowns for you, no, madam. We will live quietly in the countryside at my estate. I detest the London season, the balls, the soirees, the theater. Or perhaps I shall finish my tour of duty on the Continent and bring you along. How would you like following the drum, my dear?”
He scowled down at the woman, her eyes wide as saucers. “Perhaps I shall require Bingley to add another ten thousand to sweeten the pot. You are not a woman I would ever choose to marry, even with thirty thousand pounds.”
Frightened, she slipped lower under the cover and pulled it up to just under her eyes. “Unlock the door at once! I have changed my mind. You are a brute! A savage! You are no gentleman!”
“Ah, so you understand me at last,” he said softly.
“I am no gentleman. That was schooled out of me on the battlefields, in the mud and the cold, fighting to stay alive. No, madam, I am no gentleman. If you force marriage on me, I will take what I want when I want it, as long as we both shall live.”
“Let me go,” she sobbed. “For the love of God, let me go!”
“So now you remember God,” he said. “Where were your scruples when you threatened my cousin and his wife with exposure? When you schemed to ruin a gentlewoman’s name?”
“I am sorry. I swear I will never speak of it again.”
“I do not believe you capable of silence. Bingley swears you cannot hold your tongue to save your life.”
“I can! I swear it! Only let me go!”
“If I release you, you will leave for the country. I do not wish to see your face in London for at least a year.”
“I will go,” she whispered.
He moved aside and held out the key. He still held his pistol in his other hand and checked it now with deliberate slowness.
“Remember this, Miss Caroline Bingley, I am not Darcy. He is a gentleman. I, on the other hand, am a soldier. A criminal, if you like. I have no conscience. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” she breathed.
He pointed to the door. “Go. Be gone before I change my mind and take you here and now.”
She took the key, struggled to unlock the door, fled from the room, ran through the dark corridors, and did not stop until she had reached her own bedchamber and locked the door.
Sliding down against it, she crumpled to the floor, trembling and sick with fright.
She resolved to have her trunks packed and be gone from Netherfield before breakfast.
Richard chuckled. He stowed his pistol beneath his pillow and felt for his pocket watch on the bedside table.
Squinting in the dark, he saw that it was only half past two.
He slipped back into bed and laughed softly to himself.
His training as an agent had served him well this night; she had believed every word.
If he were not a gentleman, he might share the tale with his cousin, but Darcy would be appalled, and Richard refused to fall so low.
After all, she had been raised as a gentlewoman, and Bingley was his friend.
It went against his honor to make her the butt of a jest. Nevertheless, he laughed again.
“By Jove,” he murmured, “this is our rescue. I believe she will hold her tongue after this little escapade.”
The colonel rolled to his side and fell asleep.
Lizzy groaned. Someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes to find Mr. Darcy bending over her, freshly shaven and looking as elegant as ever.
“Elizabeth, it is half past five. The maid will be in soon. Move to my bed while I fold these blankets and return them to the closet.”
She sat up, blinking. “Shall I go to my sister’s room?”
“No. Go to my bed and sleep a little longer. The maid must see you there to avoid gossip.” He smiled faintly. “What would Mr. Collins say if he heard my new bride slept on the couch?”
She giggled and stood. He watched her cross the room, her loose curls falling past her shoulders. His gaze lingered on the graceful line of her ankles and calves as she slipped beneath the coverlet.
“Did you rest well on that hard couch?”
“I did. I was exhausted from the long day and from the shock of seeing Nicholas and his wife. I wish I had known what he truly valued. I would have hardened my heart against him.”
Darcy folded a blanket. “He did you no lasting harm, and you must remember he was very young. What was his age when he left you?”
“Nineteen.”
“He was but a boy, Elizabeth. Most men are not ready to commit until their late twenties. I believe you should forgive him.”
She huffed. “He could have told me he meant to go away to university and find a well-dowered woman. He might have given me two or three years’ notice so that I could prepare myself. Instead, he told me the day before he left.”
Darcy folded another blanket. “Perhaps he did not know. Could his father have withheld the information to spare himself years of complaint?”
“Perhaps. Mr. Jones did not like conflict. His character is much like my sister Jane’s. Such persons will avoid contention whenever possible.”
Darcy folded the last blanket and nodded. “Like Bingley. I hope he has the strength of character to send Caroline north to his uncle.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Sir, I am sorry that your good name and reputation are at risk, and all on my account.”
He stopped near the bedside, the folded blankets in his arms. “Think no more of it, Elizabeth. I chose to marry you as you chose to marry me. We agreed to take the risk together, and I do not repent my decision. I believe, as you do, that it was the right one.”
Richard was startled awake at six o’clock by Darcy’s valet. He groaned. The night’s adventure had broken his rest, and he was exhausted. He dragged himself from the bed, bathed, dressed, and went down to the breakfast parlor.
He started slightly when Bingley spoke from the corner.
The man was never up before half past ten.
Had that termagant squealed to her brother?
Had she decided to make good on her plan to entrap him?
And he had just been feeling guilty about giving her the fright of her life.
It had all been for nought. Richard flushed but steadied himself.
Years of service had taught him to wait, watch, think, and then speak or act, whichever was appropriate.
He crossed the room with deliberate calm and began to serve himself from the sideboard. Bingley, who looked worn and sleepless, set his cup of coffee down and joined him.
“You look beaten, Bingley,” Richard said lightly. “What gives?”
“My sister,” Bingley sighed. “She decided to leave. Today. Before breakfast. She had Stevens drag me from bed at four o’clock. Her trunks were packed, and she was dressed. She demanded the carriage be brought round.”
Richard grinned. “So, she is gone?”
“Yes. I sent her to my uncle Ambrose, who owns an estate in the hill country north of Selby. He is strict. She thinks she is bound for Aunt Almira in Leeds, but that is much too urbane for my sister. She would find mischief there in no time. I sent my head coachman and my strongest man to attend her. If the gods have any mercy upon me, they will cause my cousin Augustus to fall in love with her and keep her.”
Richard raised his brows. “Bingley, you might help that love along. Sweeten the pot with another five thousand pounds added to her dowry. Tell me, is this cousin a clever man? Could he manage her?”
“All my cousins are clever. We were all sent to study at Cambridge or Oxford. And we have all shown ourselves to be good with whatever enterprise we have set our hand to. But my Bingley cousins are not men of resolve, whereas Augustus, from my mother’s side, has a strength of character that could withstand my sister’s willfulness. ”
Richard paused and turned back to him. “If he is so clever, why is he buried on this remote estate you speak of?”
“My uncle Ambrose runs a sheep farm on ten thousand acres. Augustus resides there now, supervising the construction of new shearing sheds and hogg houses. The sheep dips are already built.”
Well, well, perhaps Miss Caroline has met her match.
Aloud, he said, “It seems a large dowry may not easily sway this cousin. That branch of your family must be quite wealthy.”
Bingley said, “They are, but my north-country cousins have a soft spot for red-haired lasses. They believe them livelier in the bedchamber.”
Richard thought back to the night before. Nothing in Caroline’s demeanor led him to believe that to be true of her. She seemed the sort of woman to withhold rather than bestow affection. Last night she had dressed to tempt and to tease, yet even a little tipsy, she had shrunk beneath the covers.
He shook his head pessimistically. “I wish your cousin well. “Excuse my bluntness, Bingley, but it will take a strong man to tame that particular shrew, and I do not envy the man who will have to do it.”
Bingley laughed. “Nor I. I know how difficult it is. A constant struggle, and I am exhausted by it. I will add the extra five thousand to her dowry, and after breakfast, I shall write to my cousin, asking him to consider taking her for wife.”
The two men were eating when Darcy entered. They both looked up as he filled the doorway. Richard grinned in mockery, while Bingley grinned in camaraderie.
“Well, cousin,” Richard said, “how fares the newlywed? Did you get much sleep?”
Darcy frowned in an attempt to depress Richard’s raillery. “As a matter of fact, I did.” He turned to Bingley. “Fancy seeing you up this early.”
Bingley poured out his complaints against Caroline.
“Gone? This early?” Darcy asked.
“It was her idea. She said she refused to remain another hour in this godforsaken county.”
Darcy served himself from the sideboard. “You sent her to your uncle in Selby?”
“Further north of Selby in the open hills, very isolated. Say your prayers on my behalf. If they are heard, Augustus will take her to wife and relieve me of my burden.”
Darcy chuckled. “From your lips to God’s ears, Bingley. I will add my supplications to yours. We leave before luncheon. Richard, I mean to ride out with you. Have you been up to the little hill? Elizabeth calls it Oaken Mount. The view is incomparable.”