Confront No Evil （Mixed） #2
She immediately sought her husband and showed him the letter. His face lit up with delight at every sentence. He was a man formed for amiability, and when he read the final lines, he looked at her with a smile so enormous it was nearly frightening.
“Give them my best regards indeed! We must find Darcy immediately.”
With a happy cry, the couple set off to pack their few possessions with alacrity, as there was a need to depart immediately—though with a couple married only three months, the definition of that word did not precisely match what it might for ordinary people.
~~~
Two days later, Jane burst into the parlour at Rosings, the site of many of her fondest memories.
She should have gone to the parsonage to clean up and see her sister first. If nothing else, it would have been the proper thing to do, but Lady Catherine had never stood on ceremony with the Bennet sisters, and Bingley had seen the Darcy coach next to the stable.
Jane was so giddy with excitement she practically skipped into the room, Lizzy’s letter in hand, ready to spread joy and sunshine to all and sundry.
The mood did not survive the absolute shock, like a bucket of ice water, of finding the expected Lady Catherine and Mr Darcy alongside the thoroughly unexpected Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Both parties gasped. They stared, spellbound and frightened, and Jane’s progress was arrested so quickly her husband nearly collided with her. Lizzy’s letter fell unnoticed, and everyone was rooted to the spot, unable to do or say anything.
The colonel reacted first.
With a short, quick bow, he said, “I beg your pardon,” and turned to leave.
The words unfortunately came out like gravel rolling under a barrow wheel, and Jane understood not a syllable. It was however clear that the man was embarrassed, frightened, ashamed, or merely polite, as he immediately started walking out with a stride just short of a run.
He had almost reached the far door when Jane found her voice. It emerged with surprising authority, sounding closer to Lady Catherine than Jane Bingley.
“Not so hasty, if you please, Colonel.”
Looking very much like a creature caught in a trap, the colonel stopped.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Jane stepped over Lizzy’s forgotten letter and marched across the room with alacrity.
Her husband followed. Mr Bingley had no idea what she was about, nor what he should do, so he fell back on the reliable action of wise husbands: he placed himself at his wife’s disposal and decided to do whatever she said.
As Jane marched, her mind was in turmoil. Such a contrariety of emotions possessed her that she could hardly think, and acted on pure instinct. She could not explain why, but she was certain these next few minutes were to be among the most important of her life.
As she approached, the colonel’s breeding and training took over. A man must face his superiors; by the time Mrs Bingley was a pace away, he was facing her… more or less.
Jane stared at him until it became clear he had no intention of saying anything at all, so she took charge.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, you may take my word for it that your boots are fine. I will have you look at me, sir.”
The intensity of the outburst surprised everyone save one. Darcy knew what Jane Bingley was made of; he simply nodded and waited to see the outcome.
Colonel Fitzwilliam eventually raised his eyes, though he only managed to fix his gaze on a spot half a foot to the right of her face. Her eyes were too much for him, but he finally found his voice.
“Mrs Bingley, I would have spared you this pain if I could, but since you are here, may I offer my most abject apologies.”
Jane heard the words with suspicion. There was definitely something wrong with the colonel’s voice.
He had previously possessed a melodious tone, well-tuned to deliver amusement, and used with gusto to entertain all who chose to converse with him.
Now, he sounded like an ancient man who had sat by the fire with nobody to talk to for decades.
“I will accept your apologies, sir. Nothing about the experience was right per se, but it has worked out for the best.”
The colonel, apparently wanting to say as little as possible and escape, replied, “May I offer my congratulations on your nuptials, Mr and Mrs Bingley. I sincerely wish you every happiness in the world.”
Everyone in the room expected Jane to play the gracious lady she always was—to offer the words that would put the matter to rest—when she gasped. Her husband stepped to her side, but she waved him away without looking.
Surprising everyone, Jane moved a step closer to the colonel. She reached up and pulled his cravat down an inch, while the colonel stood frozen, staring at his boots.
“What have you done? she gasped, her voice barely audible.
Mr Bingley moved to intervene, but a flick of her head dissuaded him; he stepped back a yard, watching carefully.
The colonel said nothing. What could be said?
“Colonel, this may seem an indelicate question,” Jane asked softly, as if settling a spooked horse. “Was this your doing? Just how injured were you, sir? Was this… all this… everything that happened caused by your experiences on the Continent?”
Now everyone in the room stared in open admiration or surprise. None expected Jane to put the pieces together so quickly, or have the spirit to say publicly what anybody else would only whisper in a dark room.
Jane continued relentlessly. “It must be the case. It explains so much. Now I understand. You were not that man before… you are… altered. Mr Darcy would not have allowed it. He would not have trusted you if you were not trustworthy. What have you endured?”
The colonel finally found his voice. “Perhaps I did endure much, but not enough to justify my actions. Nothing can justify that. I shall live in shame the rest of my life.”
“You most certainly shall NOT!”
The words, shouted at the top of her lungs, startled everyone in the room. The only person aware of how formidable Jane’s temper could be was unfortunately four thousand miles away, and this display caught everyone off guard.
Calming herself, the ever-pleasant Jane Bingley returned. “What is done to help you, sir? Have you recovered? Are you once again reasonably sane and whole?”
The colonel still stared fixedly at his boots when another voice joined them.
“That has been my task, Jane. He is sufficiently recovered to take his place in society, and I would bet my life on his conduct now. The insanity has passed.”
Jane’s demeanour, which had vacillated between distress for herself, the situation, and the colonel, immediately broke into a radiant smile. “Charlotte!”
Momentarily forgetting the colonel, she ran across the room to embrace her oldest and dearest friend.
The two held each other, whispering the things both needed to know to endure this meeting.
This continued for a few minutes, while everyone else talked quietly and the colonel stood rooted to the spot like a statue.
Finally, Jane returned to her spot in front of the colonel to resume her campaign.
With a much gentler tone than before, she pressed the man. “Colonel, will you please look at me?”
He finally managed it with so much reluctance his neck seemed to creak like an old wagon.
“I believe I have a right to demand some satisfaction from you. Do you agree?”
The tone was simultaneously steely and gentle.
The colonel could only nod.