Mr. Darcy's Refuge (16 page)

Chapter 9

Elizabeth broke her fast in her room in the morning since all the options awaiting her downstairs would be uncomfortable at best and possibly much worse. If both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were already there, she suspected there would be tension. If it was the colonel alone, she would have to find a tactful way to refuse him. If it was only Mr. Darcy – well, then it would depend on
which
Mr. Darcy it was. The silent, staring Darcy? The dryly humorous one? Or the insulting one, or the flirtatious, or the playful, or the one in pain, or the darkly dutiful Darcy, or perhaps one she had yet to meet? Vexing, complicated man! The colonel seemed comfortingly simple by comparison. If neither were there, she would sit in suspense wondering which would appear first. Staying in her room alone all day was beginning to sound appealing.

She would not be such a coward, though, so after finishing her hot chocolate, she took a deep breath and headed downstairs. She found Colonel Fitzwilliam in the dining room with the tray of rolls and pastries. He greeted her with his customary good cheer, which served as a reminder that his amiability would likely smooth the way through the difficult discussion to come.

Helping herself to a cup of coffee more to give herself something to do with her hands than out of any desire to drink it, she said, “Have you seen Mr. Darcy this morning?”

His raised eyebrow showed he was not unaware of the importance of the question. “He was up and away before I came down. The maid says he was off to the barn, whatever that might mean.”

“The poor folk displaced by the flood are being housed in a neighbor’s barn. Mr. Darcy has been most conscientious about seeing their needs are met.” She wondered if he had left to give her the opportunity to refuse his cousin more privately.

“Ah, yes – Darcy is always the consummate landowner, even when the land involved is not his own.”

“He seems to take his responsibilities very seriously.” Was she actually defending him to his cousin?

“He seems to feel some responsibility to act as landlord here since our aunt tends to give her tenants advice when she should be giving them assistance. His father did the same when he was alive.”

Elizabeth took a sip of her coffee, unable to think of a good way to lead into her prepared speech. Finally, she resolved to take the desperate measure of raising the subject out of the blue. “I have been giving a good deal of thought to your kind offer of yesterday. I cannot begin to tell you how honored I am to be the recipient of such an offer from you, nor how grateful I am for your concern for my well-being and reputation. You are truly one of the most amiable men of my acquaintance…”

He held up his hand to stop her. “Miss Bennet, although I am not practiced at such things, I can recognize the beginning of a refusal when I hear it. Shall we save ourselves the embarrassment of discussing it further and simply consider the matter closed?”

She let out a deep breath. “Naturally, if that is what you wish, but please permit me to say that I was very tempted, and under other circumstances would probably have accepted with pleasure.”

“Under which circumstances -- Darcy’s proposal or the question of whether you have been compromised?” He sounded as disinterested as if they were discussing a game of cards.

“Both, I suppose. I dislike the idea of having no choice about marrying, but I could never be happy knowing that my presence was causing a rift between you, and there is nothing you can say to convince me that would not be the case. You and Mr. Darcy seem more like brothers than cousins in many ways, and I will not be the one to interfere with such an old friendship.”

“Does this argument extend to refusing Darcy as well?”

“From a logical standpoint it should, but in fact I have not decided one way or the other. I have greater faith, you see, in
your
ability to tolerate such a disappointment than in his. You sensibly guarded your heart against me when you thought nothing more was possible, so I am disappointing only a few hours worth of hopes on your part. Mr. Darcy has been struggling with this for many months. I am sure he will be able to forget me if that is necessary, but I suspect he feels it too deeply to be able to put it behind him if he were forced to see me married to you.”

“You have captured our relationship in a nutshell, madam. I bend to the circumstance far more readily than my cousin does.” His voice had an edge to it.

“I will add that to my list of comparisons. I understand you can triumph over Mr. Darcy with a pistol, but not with a sword, that you are his equal in throwing ability, and that your ability at fisticuffs outdoes his, but not at boxing. I confess myself a little baffled as to what the difference between fisticuffs and boxing might be, but I will take it on faith that there is one.”

“Rules, Miss Bennet,” he said with a rueful smile. “Boxing has rules, and fisticuffs does not.”

Since he seemed cheered by her teasing, she said, “Are there other skills at which you differ?”

“There are many. He loses at cards – anyone can read his expression to know what cards he holds – but has the deep pockets to afford it if he chooses, while I do well at cards but cannot afford to play.” He shook his head with a mock sigh, then sat up, abruptly alert, looking over her shoulder out the window.

“Hell and damnation!” He hurried around the table and took her by the arm, urging her away from the window. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, but I must ask you to go above stairs immediately, and to remain there until Darcy returns. You must move quickly now.”

Taken aback by his vehemence, she asked,“Why, what is the matter?”

“My father and my aunt are coming, accompanied, unless I miss my guess, by a solicitor. They believe you are engaged to Darcy, and this is going to be an
extremely
unpleasant scene.”

“I am not afraid to face them!”

“But
I
am afraid to let you do so, because if I do, Darcy will take that sword of his and carve me into little pieces, and he would be quite correct to do so. It would be kinder to hand you over to a squad of Napoleon’s soldiers.
Please
go, Miss Bennet.”

“Very well,” she said, mystified. “But why would they believe me engaged to Darcy when I am not?”

“Never mind that. Go now, and do not come down unless Darcy is here, even if I send for you, no matter what you hear me or anyone else say.”

He urged her toward the staircase and called for Sally, instructing her to send a boy for Darcy without an instant’s delay. Elizabeth was just out of sight of the stairs when the sound reached her of the front door slamming open without even the courtesy of a knock. She pressed herself against the wall where she could not be seen, listening intently.

The colonel drawled in a voice quite unlike the one she knew, “Why, sir, to what do I owe this honor?”

“Where is Darcy, damn him!” The roar must be from the earl.

“Out and about somewhere. Something about the flood.” Colonel Fitzwilliam managed to sound utterly bored. “Would you care for some refreshment? I warn you, the brandy here is an insult to the name.”

“Is that girl here?” Lady Catherine sounded as if she had eaten icicles for breakfast.

“The maid? How would I know?”

“That Bennet chit, you fool!”

“Her? She is most likely with Darcy. Do, please, make yourselves quite at home here – oh, pardon me, I see that you already have.”

Lady Catherine snapped, “Did he tell you that they are engaged?”

She could not hear the colonel’s response, but the earl could have been heard in the next county. “You should have stopped it, then!”

“I did my best. He wouldn’t listen, so I tried proposing to the girl myself – even told her that my brother was sickly and I was his only heir. No luck, not even when I dangled a countess’ title.” Again, he used that languid drawl.

“You should have compromised her, you fool!”

No wonder Colonel Fitzwilliam had not wanted her present!

“Tried that, too, but Darcy doesn’t let her out of his sight, day
or
night. I should know; I tried climbing in her window last night. Pity, though – she’s a toothsome piece, and I wouldn’t have minded a taste or two. Oh, well - can’t have everything, you know.”

Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. What could he be playing at?

“You stay out of this, birdwit!” the earl snarled to someone - perhaps Lady Catherine? Elizabeth wondered if there would be blood on the floor by the time this was over.

The colonel said, “How did you find out so quickly? He only told me last night.”

“The damn fool put it in the papers! We will have to say it was an error.”

Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth. How could it be in the papers? They had been stranded here this whole time!

“The papers? Probably the soliticitor. Darcy says he wrote him already about the settlement.”

The sound of running feet overtook the conversation, then she heard Darcy’s voice. “Good God, Richard! What is the matter?”

“You have guests,” the colonel drawled.

Darcy made some sort of reply, then exclaimed, “Mr. Bennet?”

“None other,” came the familiar voice, sharp with anger. “You seem to have forgotten my existence, so I thought perhaps you needed a reminder that my daughter is not yet of age, and you cannot and will not marry her without my consent -- which, I might add, I have no intention of giving, now or ever.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, then slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, her knees bent to her chest. Her father! He must have heard all of the terrible things the colonel had said. This had to be a nightmare.

“Doesn’t matter,” the earl snapped. “You aren’t marrying her, Darcy. You know perfectly well I have plans for you.”

The colonel said in a sing-song voice, “You have plans, Lady Catherine has plans – Darcy, you are
very
well planned for!”

That was it – Colonel Fitzwilliam was trying to draw his father’s ire away from Darcy by playing the rake. Despite whatever had passed between the two men the previous night, apparently their old bond still held. The colonel was playing the role for both of them because he knew Darcy couldn’t do it for himself, and from the ease with which he did it, Elizabeth suspected this was not the first time.

Lady Catherine had been silent too long. “He is marrying my Anne, and that is the end of it. That chit may have fooled him with her arts and allurements, but he is promised to Anne.”

“Be quiet, Catherine! He can do far better than Anne.”

“He
must
marry Anne! She needs him, and his mother and I planned it when they were in their cradles!”

“I don’t care if all the saints in heaven planned it. He isn’t marrying Anne. If she needs to marry someone, she can marry Richard.”