Chapter 15 Darcy #2
Miss Bennet lifted her chin and said, “I do not wish to change anything about my life or plans in response to the colonel. We should go.”
“As you wish.”
Darcy already felt partially healed, within his soul, after holding and comforting Miss Bennet.
He also felt that one of the few topics that had caused him anxiety since meeting Miss Bennet was at least explained, if not resolved: Richard’s behaviour, seen through the lens of his ill-conceived declaration that morning, was due to his melancholy from unrequited love and from envy that Darcy was now attached to the object of Richard’s feelings.
If it had been any other man who had said to Miss Bennet that he had no honourable intentions for her, but then chased her through a park declaring his love, Darcy would almost certainly have cut that person out of his life with little concern.
But Richard and he had gone through many hardships in the past. When Darcy’s mother had passed, Richard had helped him to cope and to bear with an early admission to Eton.
When the son of Pemberley’s steward, George Wickham, had transformed from childhood friend to personal nemesis, Richard had helped him to understand Wickham’s greed and debauchery as well as his anger at life in general and Darcy in particular.
When Mr Darcy, senior, had shocked everyone by dying suddenly, his heart apparently giving out, Richard had again stood by him and allowed him to rant and rail on two different occasions, in privacy.
Richard never told another soul about those two breakdowns.
As for Richard’s agonies, he had never lost a close family member, other than Darcy’s parents, but he had lost a trusted batman, a respected commanding officer, and too many beloved brothers-in-arms. Darcy and Richard had spent many an evening dedicated to Richard expressing the horrors of war.
He dearly hoped the two of them could somehow move past this, even though right now it felt like a personal betrayal.
He wondered briefly if Richard also felt betrayed; after all, Darcy had fallen in love with the woman Richard loved.
On the one hand, that feeling would seem absurd, since Richard had made it clear that he wished his mother to help Miss Bennet find a match.
On the other hand, feelings are decidedly unruly.
Darcy tried to engage with the responsibilities that needed to be handled and the activities that made up his usual routine, but it was hard to clear his head of the Richard debacle.
He finally decided to take the step he had conceived at the Gardiners’ home. He penned a brief note: “Angelo’s, today. You choose the time.”
He sent the note by messenger, specifying that it was to be handed to Colonel Fitzwilliam in person, or brought back as not delivered. Less than an hour had passed before he received his answer: “Five o’clock.”
Darcy found himself finally able to concentrate on other matters.
At half past four he arrived at Angelo’s, where he exchanged his coat for the side-buttoning fencing jacket.
He donned the specialised footwear and held in his hands an Angelo’s fencing mask, gloves, and his own foil.
He made his way to the gallery and easily found a gentleman willing to spar with him as he warmed up.
When Richard approached, Darcy asked if he needed time to warm up or if he was ready. Richard said, “I am, indeed, ready for my usual thrashing. Or should I anticipate a much more vigorous drubbing?”
Darcy raised one eyebrow and said, “I will attempt to win, just as I always do, Cousin.”
Richard said, “Let us begin.”
As soon as the two men faced off, many nearby gentlemen stopped their own sparring and watched, and Darcy was certain that the viewing gallery was filling up as well. Whenever he fenced, he was watched, for he had held the undefeated record for years.
But the first moments of the bout proved that it was no usual match. Richard approached him with a frown and uncharacteristic ferocity.
Parrying Richard’s undisciplined thrusts took little of Darcy’s attention—and his mind was overtaken by emotion. What the devil? Richard is angry with me, when I should be of a mind to injure him? When I saw him chasing Miss Bennet, driving her to tears—
But Darcy’s thought of Miss Bennet immediately swept his own anger away—because she did not wish him to be a fighter, she wished him to fence for sport.
A part of him noted that, no matter what happened today at Angelo’s, Miss Bennet would remain in a courtship with him, not Richard.
Calm again, Darcy began his own skilled attack.
Touché! voices called out every time he scored a hit.
Richard looked more enraged than Darcy had ever seen directed at himself, and his cousin’s emotionality probably explained why he was fencing more poorly than usual.
Darcy won in short order, and he reached out to shake his cousin’s hand… .
But then Richard struck him—hard—in the gut.
Darcy staggered backwards a step. He straightened, hearing the gasps and whispers all around him, certain that everyone must be appalled at his cousin’s poor sportsmanship.
Rather than striking him back, Darcy turned his back on his cousin and walked away, moving towards the room where he had left his coat.
After changing and calling for his carriage, he directed, “Straight to Darcy House,” as he got into the conveyance.
Once inside, he leant back into the squabs, closing his eyes.
Once again, he saw Richard’s face, a scowl twisting his features.
Darcy rubbed his eyes, but that did nothing to dislodge the mental picture.
He finally opened his eyes and stared out the window, trying not to think too hard.
Suddenly, he noticed that they were going in entirely the wrong direction. He had clearly directed his driver to take him to Darcy House—but then a memory seemed to ring in his ears. He had said “Straight to the Gardiners’ house!”
Darcy felt deeply uncomfortable to arrive at Miss Bennet’s residence without an invitation or a prior arrangement. Of course, he had done so that very morning—and look how that turned out, he ruminated.
Although he might have rapped on the ceiling of the carriage and changed the order, he had spent so much time thinking and imagining, and then trying not to think, nor to imagine, that the carriage was quite close to the Gardiners.
He decided to see if Miss Bennet was at home.
He felt more and more reluctant as he climbed the stairs to the front door, where he put his hand out, ready to ring the bell.
They were likely out, or eating dinner. This was quite rude. He should not—
Darcy made himself pull the bell pull, and of course then he had to stand firm. The housekeeper opened the door and smiled brightly at him. “Good evening, Mr Darcy.” He was grateful that she did not appear surprised, but instead she seemed as pleased as she always was.
“I apologise for coming at an inconvenient time, but if Miss Bennet is available at all—”
He interrupted himself because the housekeeper was nodding and smiling, and she even turned and led the way as he uttered the last few words. He found himself being announced in the dining room, and he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Except, all three faces looking at him looked more pleased than surprised. Gardiner said, “Darcy, come join us for dinner.”
Mrs Gardiner said, “Yes, please do. Should I arrange for another plate?”
Miss Bennet said, “What happened? You look…upset.”
At the word upset, the Gardiners looked surprised—Darcy supposed that Miss Bennet alone could read his emotions when he was attempting to mask them—but they said nothing further and did not stare.
He did not know what to say or do, but Miss Bennet apparently did.
She rose and led him by the hand to the parlour, leaving the adjoining doors open.
She sat near him and whispered, “Are you well?”
He shook his head and continued to clutch her hand.
“I tried to reach out to Richard. A fencing match, just as we have done hundreds of times. He fenced angrily, sloppily. Even so, when it was over, I thought he would shake my hand and that we would feel a bit better—that is what we always do, at the end of every bout—we shake hands.”
Darcy never cried, not since he was young. He had not cried when his father died; he knew how much his little sister, along with the tenants and servants and townspeople, needed him to be strong, and so he had been strong.
But now, sitting next to the beautiful woman who had claimed his heart, he realised that the unfamiliar moisture in his eyes was tears. He could not believe that he was crying—and in front of Elizabeth.
She reached up with her free hand and stroked one cheek tenderly. “What did Richard do?” she asked. “Ignore your hand, leave you standing there, embarrass you in front of everyone?”
“He struck me.”
She jumped to her feet, eyes flashing, apparently ready to do battle, had Richard only been there. “Where did he strike you?” she asked loud enough to be overheard.
Darcy shot a glance towards the dining room, and immediately saw that the Gardiners had heard and were standing and coming towards him, so of course he had to stand, too.
“Richard struck me in the abdomen. I was shocked; everyone was shocked. I just turned and walked away, and I thought I directed my driver to go straight to Darcy House, but only when we got here did I realise that I had actually asked that he bring me here.”
Gardiner put one hand on Darcy’s shoulder; he was three or four inches shorter than Darcy, and likely only a decade and a half older, but it still seemed like a fatherly thing to do.
Darcy appreciated the unexpected gesture.
He nodded at the man, who finally spoke, “It takes a great man to walk away from a fight, as you did tonight, and I am feeling more and more that you are, in all ways, a great man.”
Darcy blushed but said firmly, “Thank you, sir.”
Mrs Gardiner said, “I am sorry that any of this has occurred. But we do hope you will stay here and calm a little, and then join us for a meal. I will ask the servants to pause the serving for now, and do let me know if you decide you are up to eating with us.”
Mrs Gardiner stepped out for a few moments, then joined her husband at the other side of the parlour and began speaking in a low voice. Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “Your uncle and aunt are a treasure.”
“Yes, they are, although I am sorry I spoke so loudly, Mr Darcy. I instantly became enraged on your behalf.”
“I am happy I ended up here, instead of home alone. My mind seemed to stop as I got into the carriage, but a part of it must have understood that I needed to see you.”
Elizabeth smiled up at Darcy, looking shyer than she usually seemed. They resumed their seats, and Elizabeth told Darcy an amusing story about her eldest niece and her escapades that afternoon with the neighbour’s cat.
Darcy was not ready to give up on Richard, but his own family’s flaws did not seem to matter as much when he was immersed in her family.
Elizabeth concluded the tale with the cat meowing plaintively to join his new friend in the Gardiners’ house and little Margaret begging her parents to buy the cat from the neighbour because he was “so orange.”
He smiled. Elizabeth asked Darcy how he was feeling.
“Better, I thank you.”
She stood and offered him her hand, saying, “Come, sir, let us eat.”
The Gardiners took his acceptance for granted, and he was delighted to go along with them.
He sat opposite Elizabeth, and when he accidentally bumped her foot with his, and she flicked a glance at him but did not move her foot, he left his in place, too.
Not that he could feel her through the leather of his boot, but just the idea of a steady contact with her made him feel as if everything would be well. .
Even though he had cried in front of the love of his life. And her relations.