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"I'm awfully sorry Darcy." Bingley's tone was very contrite.
"Shut up!" The order issued from under the hat and Bingley dropped back to sit properly in his seat as the motor drew into the yard of the Horse and Hounds. Darcy corrected the position of his hat and slid out of the car, before strolling across to the inn.
"Can I help you sir?" The Landlord came bustling forward to Darcy.
"I wish to speak to Lieutenant McKenna and Corporal Paige." Darcy watched expressionlessly as a disapproving frown came across the Landlord's features.
"Second door on your left. You may tell the Lieutenant that I would like to be paid soon."
"How much?"
"Ten pounds."
"You lie."
"Six pounds and ten pence."
"You are now paid." Darcy handed across the money. "Now feel free to kick those gentlemen and their dog out." Darcy then turned and left the inn.
The matter had been arranged over lunch between Lydia and their Aunt Phillips as a result of Denny and Wickham not appearing again on main street after they had left the Miss Bennets. Mrs. Phillips was to arrange a social evening to which she would invite all the Miss Bennets and the Officers, all that needed to be done was for the invitations to be made and for the miss Bennets to arrive in Meryton at a suitable hour that evening.
Mrs. Bennet was more than willing for them to go to their aunt Phillips' for the evening, and Mr. Bennet willingly excused the reverend Collins from coming to play a game of Backgammon that evening. So at a suitable hour the Longbourn carriage was to be seen heading towards Meryton, and Elizabeth was feeling ill as well as bored, for the Reverend Collins had finally explained the reason for his recent attentions to his cousins.
"I have found that the death of your brother has left me as the inheritor of Longbourn Estate. I feel it my duty to make suitable repatriation to my cousins for the loss they have suffered and which has forced such a fate upon them." The speech, which the reverend Collins called a brief remark, had nearly made Elizabeth cry sick and skip the evening, but they had left immediately after he had made the remark so Elizabeth hadn't had time to formulate a suitable excuse.
The Phillips' was already crowded by the time the Bennets arrived, and Elizabeth hurriedly effaced herself to the back of the room, taking a plate of muffins and a pot of tea with her. Elizabeth was feeling unsociable this evening, if someone wanted to talk to her they could come, but she most certainly wasn't going to stroll around making polite conversation.
"A fellow sufferer?" It was with surprise that Elizabeth realized that McKenna was actually speaking to her.
"Depends what you mean by that." Elizabeth suddenly removed her plate of muffins from a nearby table, just in time to prevent them from falling victim to the appetite of Nero. "You brought your dog this evening?"
"Nero comes everywhere with me, too dangerous to leave him behind. Your aunt was most polite about letting him in."
"You remarked on suffering Lieutenant."
"Indeed I did, I'm only here because Pip wanted to come and wouldn't go alone. Bing wasn't invited and neither was Paige."
"Bing?"
"Lieutenant Bingley, I knew him in France just before Loos, we were stationed behind their bit of the front. We got given the boot by the ever so kind landlord so we've gone to roost up at Netherfield."
"Did you know Lieutenant Bennet as well?"
"The two B's, of course I knew Bennie, he and Bing were nearly inseparable. Rarely had someone get so thoroughly airsick on me."
"He did say that his internals worked against him. What's it like out there?"
"Either incredibly boring or far to hot for my comfort. Nero!" The comment drew Elizabeth's attention to the fact that a damp nose had just stolen her muffin.
"That'll teach me to be interested in what's being said. Why incredibly boring, or too uncomfortable?"
"Well either we're just drifting around taking photographs of various sections of the front, or we're helping the batteries get their range on another battery, or we're getting shot at. Life can be a bit interesting when you have two rifles, three revolvers and a duck rifle to protect yourself and your opponent has a machinegun. Fortunately we got upgraded to Fee's a couple of months back so if we get in too much trouble we can make a run for it, Fee's also have machineguns which means we haven't such a problem with not giving as good as we get."
"Fees?"
"Farman Experimentals 2. Was Bennie a relative of yours?"
"Brother."
"You lucky people, Bennie was one of the best, I was sorry when I heard he'd gone west. Though I'll certainly agree that the Major was a person I'd willingly go west to save."
"Who is this Major?"
"The Major? He was Bennie's C.O. born officer if I ever saw one, what he doesn't know about warfare is worth nothing, there's some story that holds that he was in South Africa for a few years and led a pretty rough life, but I've never heard that backed up with definite evidence. Hello Wickham!" McKenna stood up as he spoke. "Well, I'll leave you to Wickham Miss, I have need of some more muffin and my cup is empty."
"Miss Bennet, how do you do?"
"I'm Miss Elizabeth, my sister Jane is Miss Bennet."
"Please forgive me Miss Elizabeth, I meant no harm."
"I have yet to find someone who objects to acquiring a promotion of position, I merely pointed the matter out so you did not embarrass yourself another time."
"You are too kind Miss Elizabeth." Mr. Wickham sat down in a nearby chair. "Tell me, have you lived long in Meryton?"
"All my life. Where are you from Mr. Wickham?"
"Lambton, Derbyshire."
"I have heard that the scenery is magnificent in those parts."
"Indeed it is, you could find nothing better anywhere in the world."
"So speaks the true son of the land, if I did not know better I think I would be offended by that remark Mr. Wickham."
"Fear not Miss Elizabeth, Hertfordshire certainly has its own charms, not the least of which is the people."
"Flattering Mr. Wickham?"
"Not at all, I only speak the truth. How long has Mr. Darcy resided in this neighbourhood?"
"About a month, and I wish he had chosen some other place for his holiday."
"You do not seem to approve of the gentleman in question."
"No I don't, I'm sorry if it pains you but I have spent five days in the same house as him and all it has done is strengthen my belief in his arrogance and insensitivity to his fellow men."
"Well I am glad to have met someone who has not fallen for his money and looks, I fear that I too am no friend of Mr. Darcy's."
"You speak as though you know him well?" Elizabeth had finally got the subject onto what she was curious about and she had no intention of letting it stray off it.
"I should, the Darcy estate of Pemberley is on the outskirts of Lambton. Though the family have large holdings throughout Derbyshire and indeed the world, the family choose to live on the most historic part of their property, I spent much time there as a boy since my father was the steward and in charge of managing many of the family's legal affairs."
"That must have been interesting."
"It most certainly was, especially when the entire family foregathered together for Christmas. I was a favourite of old Mr. George's so my father and I were both invited to the family Christmases, I can still remember the Christmas turkey. Mr. George was very particular about his food so nothing but the best was ever to be seen on the tables at Pemberley.
My father unfortunately had a poor choice of wife, this is not to say that I did not love my mother, in fact she was one of the most important people in my life, but she had no sense of economy. As a family we would have spent most of our time in a poorhouse had it not been for the generosity of Mr. George, as it was Mr. George was very generous and I was supported the whole way through school and university. It had been decided that I was to join the church, to dedicate my life to the work of God, this was a career I spent many hours discussing with Mr. George and I was to be given the parish at Kympton when the present, at that time, incumbent retired. This was something I was very happy with for it meant I could stay near my family and where I grew up. The matter of my career and the fact that I was a favourite of Mr. George's was later to become a major problem between the current Mr. Darcy and myself, but I don't like to speak ill of the family I know them too well." Wickham shook his head gently. "Have you ever travelled outside of Hertfordshire Miss Elizabeth?"
"A few trips to London to visit an aunt and uncle, but that is all." Elizabeth had no intention of letting this subject stray. "A problem? I assumed that Mr. Darcy's response was due to the uniforms."
"He can hardly object too audibly to uniforms with his own brother in uniform."
"He has a brother?"
"Indeed yes, only one year younger than him and very few people can tell them apart. His brother is in the New Army and is a Major, hence Darcy can on occasion be cramped into a corner concerning his stand on arms, but Darcy takes too much after his aunt."
"His aunt?"
"Lady Catherine de Bough, it is no secret that she expects Darcy to marry her daughter."
"Poor Miss Bingley. Tell me, what was it like living in Derbyshire?"
"I'd rather not Miss Elizabeth, the subject is a painful one."
"Painful?" Elizabeth looked perplexed.
"Let's say it is part of my life I have put behind myself and would rather not remember. Why poor Miss Bingley?"
"She is very interested in the same Mr. Darcy whom you say is as good as engaged to Miss de Bourgh. Surely there must have been some good in your boyhood?"
"There was much good in it, it is more how my boyhood ended that I would prefer to forget, it is so easy to become bitter if one dwells on certain circumstances and I would hate the actions of others to prevent me from having a reasonable life."
"That's an interesting stance to take, most would wish to avenge themselves on anyone who injured them."
"My case is not usual Miss Elizabeth, if I were to try to avenge myself I could never live with myself for I would bring pain to one I dearly love and who already suffers enough without my adding to it, I also know that a good friend would never forgive me if I were to bring pain to the same one that I dearly love."
"Please tell me." Elizabeth's curiosity was now thoroughly aroused. "It isn't fair to say something like that then not explain it."
"You force my hand miss Bennet, very well you will have your story.
"I was the favourite of old Mr. George Darcy, his sons were merely duties he was expected to carry out, while I was a person he seemed to hold great affection. While I could go into George Darcy's office whenever I felt like it, he was available to his sons between the hours of four and six in the afternoon. Admittedly this was for them a sad state of affairs, but I do not solely blame Mr. George. He had two sons who were both taller than him before they reached their fourteenth year, and the Darcy men are considered large, both sons were introverted and silent, they made it clear from a very early age that they did not appreciate any interference with their lives. The Darcy motto is 'back to back' or at any rate that is the rough translation of it the two boys used, they were the terror or the neighbourhood...but not in the usual manner, both of them exhibited an uncanny ability to manipulate people from quite a young age. 'Back to back' that was how they were, they watched out for each other and would back up each other to the death, as a result you can have two men with totally opposite points of a view who can live together in relative harmony. Most people would mistake them for twins if it were not for their immense size. I pity their father, he was a fine man and he really didn't deserve such sons.
Until I went to Cambridge as well I had in fact had relatively little to do with either Mr. Darcy or with his younger brother, those two firmly believed in class difference and as the son of a lawyer and their father's steward I most certainly did not come near being in their class. Not that they excluded me from anything, they were always kind and polite when we were together, but there was little in common between us. At Cambridge I was a familiar link for Darcy, I think he missed his brother more than he would ever deign to admit to anyone, so I moved up into a bit of favour with Mr. Darcy, we were both studying classics at the time, but on top of that Darcy had modern history and some course that I never understood the point of. I would the last person to try and claim equality with those two brothers, single track minds dedicated to an all important aim, they are also savagely intelligent to the point of brilliance, I'm afraid that I'm more of the average variety when it comes to intelligence and I am frequently distracted.
Mr. George died during my last year at Cambridge after a brief illness, his wife had died some ten years earlier with the birth of the youngest Darcy, a girl by the name of Georgiana, so the two brothers were joined with one of their cousins in the guardianship of Georgiana and Mr. Darcy inherited the entire Darcy Estate in all its immensity. We completed our last year at Cambridge before all the legal matters of legacies and annuities were sorted out, and I had been applying for theological colleges and every possible scholarship. The Darcy Estates might be massive in their size and yield, but the cost off keeping them productive was also massive, I had no wish to drain any more money than was absolutely essential in the course of my education as I was well aware that any sudden and large expenditure might topple the Darcy Estates into a debt spiral which it could not get out of.
As we finished at Cambridge I realised that Darcy had running himself absolutely to the bone over some matter, but no inquiry of mine got any answer until Darcy dropped the bombshell in my lap that the Darcy Estates were now financially frozen. The gist of this meant that all legacies and annuities were terminated for the temporary if not long term future, so too were all allowances cut off, this included the allowance to Mr. Darcy's own brother. In fact the only person who was not affected by the freezing of the estate was Georgiana, and Darcy would have mortgaged everything to the hilt sooner then deprive her of anything. The Darcy men might be cold and manipulating, but they certainly cared for their younger sister who was the image of her mother. Of course as a result of this I was required to put my theological career on hold, not that I objected to that in the slightest, after all the prize we were fighting for was the continuation of the Darcy Estate. To see all the work broken up would have broken my heart I feel, for my father and Mr. George had spent many hours in the management. The problem was solely based on a financial purchase of a large quantity of stock in some South African company which had since failed, the purchase itself was unwise and was made with funds the family didn't actually have to spare. Though admittedly had it come off the family would have been much better off, the purchase itself was made by Mr. George and managed by someone long since retired from any position in the Darcy management scheme.
My own father had died while I was at Cambridge so I no longer had any connection with the management of Darcy affairs, and as I was not accepted as an equal by the brothers I in fact had no contact with the family except through some cousin who was actually a second cousin or something like that. As a result I had no idea what happened in the Darcy family, for those brothers never talked abroad, even when they were cheerful, and they became even more close-lipped on the matter after problems appeared on the scene. Mr. Darcy himself went to South Africa within months of the whole affair arriving and I never saw him between the day when he asked me to delay my theological career and his return from South Africa some four years later. Neither did I see Mr. Darcy's younger brother who buried himself in military matters and was soon sent to India to deal with certain matters that continued to be of a problem there. About a month or so after Darcy left for South Africa the news came through that his brother had defected from his majesty's armed forces, the next news that the people had at Pemberley was that Darcy was off to India. He returned a year later from India, but stayed in South Africa. Three years after that he returned to England and started unfreezing the estate, allowances were resumed, legacies and annuities were paid off, the depleted staff was brought back up to size and the salaries which had been reduced were brought back up to their original size. I actually don't know what happened either in South Africa or in India, but Darcy returned with a working knowledge of more than one language and was as close-lipped as ever on the subject. One thing is beyond doubt and that is that while he was in South Africa he manage to retrieve the hundreds of thousands of pounds that had been lost. I have been somewhat puzzled as to how Darcy retrieved the money, for the company where it was lost was certainly never refloated.....I really hate to think such of them, but the estate had number one priority with those brothers and the return of the family fortunes line up rather nicely with that treasury scandal concerning the forged notes, which by the way were traced entirely back to a company in which the Darcys were the major stockholders. May I also add that no one knows what Darcy did or where he went when he was in South Africa, all we can assume was that he was using a different name to his real one." Wickham stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts and take a drink of tea. "I wish I could remember the name we sent mail to."
"What happened to the brother?"
"Nobody knows except perhaps Darcy himself, certainly the brother has never been seen again." Wickham shook his head briefly, then continued. "While Mr. Darcy was in South Africa and his brother was in India the actual management of the Darcy Estates was relegated to a cousin, the eldest son of Mrs. Darcy's brother, one Jermyn Fitzwilliam. Though I have little doubt that the management would have been handed to his other cousin, one Captain Edward Fitzwilliam, had it not been that he was currently on active duty in India. By the management of the estates I do not refer to the monetary side, just the choosing of people to do the work which needed being done, ensuring that everything was done to a satisfactory standard and the firing of inefficient staff. But Jermyn Fitzwilliam was taken away to South Africa to deal with some troublesome estates of his father's, so he relegated the job of the Darcy estates to myself and his second cousin Lieutenant Peter Fitzwilliam. Peter Fitzwilliam was actually a second cousin of both Fitzwilliam's and Darcy's and was at the time in the Navy, he was the grandson of the younger son of Darcy's Great-grandfather, you have probably heard of the man Admiral Sir Peter Fitzwilliam, though the family all call him Peperu. Some months before Darcy returned to England Peter sent off a request to pay his addresses Mr. Darcy's sister Georgiana. Between Peter and Georgiana there had been a long standing friendship and I honestly doubt that I have ever seen a man so truly in love with a woman as Peter was with Georgiana Darcy. Darcy sent a positive reply and voiced absolutely no objections to the match, so Peter proposed and was accepted, though the bride-to-be specified that the wedding was not to occur until her brother returned. Peter had no objections about that either, so the wedding was set for September of '14 which was Darcy's projected time of return. Then Darcy returned very suddenly four months earlier then he had predicted much to the surprise of everyone. He had been home barely two days when he suddenly ordered Peter to break off the engagement and never see his sister again. I doubt I have ever seen a man so shattered as Peter when Darcy forced him to break off the engagement."
"How horrible." Elizabeth couldn't help a gasp.
"Well I must admit that it wasn't particularly nice to stand there while a very good friend was forced to do what he had no wish at all to do. Darcy gave no reasons for why he had suddenly decided against Peter's marrying Georgiana, but such is his habit, he very rarely explains anything. The only other person who saw any of this was Nash and it is in Nash's personal interest for him not to leave the Darcy service. Peter left immediately and got himself assigned to some job in North England and I assumed it was the last of it. Peter sent letters for a couple of months which were decidedly hard to read, but then he seemed to stabilize and he went back to writing about his everyday life and the joys of being alive. At this point I have to admit that I completely forgot about Peter for I had suddenly received rather a bitter pill to swallow. Darcy had turned down my request for support through theological college point blank, he claimed no knowledge of the agreement between his father and myself and there was certainly no written record of the matter. Whether he was telling the truth, or just avenging some assumed slight from childhood, I do not know. But when I pressed my case he had me forcibly removed from his estate and gave instructions that I was never to be admitted again."
"To have so ignored his father's requests!" Elizabeth was decidedly horrified. "How could he do such a thing?"
"That I do not know, but I'm afraid the matter doesn't end there. Four months after he turned back my request Peter Fitzwilliam was found in the river that passed near his base, he was dead as a result of suicide. It wasn't until several months later that I discovered that Peter had been charged and discharged on a matter of discipline, this I thought at the time was a pity. Then I heard quite by accident that Peter had attempted to see Georgiana, why he tried I cannot say, perhaps just to explain his behaviour perhaps for some other reason, the truth I doubt I will ever know. But with the knowledge that Peter had tried to see Georgiana I did a bit of private looking around and discovered that there had been some strings pulled. Darcy had warned Peter that the cost would be high if he tried to see Georgiana again, but I doubt Darcy intended the matter to go as far as it did."
"The man should be tried for such deeds." Elizabeth was absolutely horrified.
"Unfortunately I knew the father and I know the sister, and Peter would never forgive me if I made the sister unhappy. And unhappy she would most certainly be if her last remaining brother suffered any."
"Well I wish see no more of him, unfortunately I fear I must." Elizabeth wasn't happy.
"Seymour, thank you Miss Elizabeth, David Seymour was the man all mail was sent to." Wickham had a relieved expression. "Maybe Seymour could answer some questions apropos Darcy's work in South Africa."
"Maybe he was Seymour while he was in South Africa, certainly his friend keeps starting to call him one name, then changing to Darcy." Elizabeth watched the interest dawn in Wickham's face.
"You might have a point, I never thought of that."
"Mr. Wickham, you said you were only going to be half a minute and that you needed a cup of tea, you have now been half an hour!" Lydia grabbed Mr. Wickham's hand as she spoke and dragged him away to the tables, Wickham looked back over his shoulder as he left and gave a slightly apologetic shrug. Lydia knew her action was too late, that wasn't half obvious from Elizabeth's expression, what story had been told Lydia didn't know, and who it was against Lydia didn't know either, but the discussion had most certainly not been about the war. It was with annoyance that Lydia dragged Wickham back to her table, she had actually completely forgotten about the man until Lieutenant McKenna had suddenly offered her a 'cup of tea minus the muffin'. Whether Lydia liked it or not she could not ignore a warning like that, and how McKenna had known Uncle Mac's emergency alert sentence was another mystery, but there was absolutely no doubt about the matter McKenna had been very interested in making her aware that there was trouble in the room. Lydia successfully managed to occupy Wickham for the rest of the evening, not that she found the task at all onerous for Mr. Wickham was most certainly a handsome man and quite to her taste.
"Get to Netherfield tonight if you can." McKenna caught her at the door as she struggled with her boots, and Lydia responded with a miniscule nod before hurrying out to join her sisters in the carriage.
Private John 'Griz' Behr went down the slope the only way that might possibly get him out with his skin intact, also known as a run with no control at all. He spent half of the trip down in a horizontal position thanks to having tripped on rocks or some other obstacle. He lost his rifle near the beginning, but not even the threat of death would have persuaded him to go back for it as it was death that he was running from. One final trip catapulted him down into a dry little gully, and when his head cleared enough to see anything at all he found himself being stared at from close range by puzzled face, and buried to his waist in general rubble.
"A trifle unusual, Private." The NCO moved back and handed him a small shovel. "You'd better dig yourself out and check for injuries." Griz cautiously freed his hands and set about digging himself free, acutely conscious of the fact that the officer continued to watch him. "Where are you from?"
"Australian Light Horse, 10th Battalion, Corporal."
"What were you doing up there?" The NCO vaguely indicated the hill which Griz had descended from with such expedition and which was now being shelled out of existence.
"Sniping, Corporal." Griz dusted his uniform and tried to conceal some of the damage it had suffered in his descent. The NCO lifted a condescending eyebrow and looked at Griz, before closing his eyes and shuddering slightly.
"Your rifle Private?"
"Somewhere between here and my former position, Corporal." Griz was rapidly getting very miserable, he had been on watch the night before, his position had been bombed out of existence and now some corporal was playing cat and mouse with him on the matter of punishment.
"You left your rifle behind Private?"
"Yes, Corporal." Griz kept as rigidly to attention as he could with the knowledge that he had some world class bruises on various parts of his anatomy and blood trickling down the side of his face. Whether the injury was from a bit of shrapnel or the result of a tumble he did not know, but the slow trickle of blood was irritating him.
"You know the punishments for moving without your weapon?"
"Yes, Corporal."
"Have you a reason for being without your weapon?"
"Ahhh, no Corporal." To say you lost your rifle when you fell over was not considered a suitable excuse. Griz had a very low feeling that he was about to have the book thrown at him, just the thing to finish up a totally rotten couple of days.
"There are Turkish lines that way, or the supplies depot that way." The NCO pointed in two opposite directions, then turned his back on Griz and proceeded whistling to continue shovelling sand and rocks into sandbags. Griz looked doubtfully at the NCO for a minute then turned and headed off down the dry little gully. He was just getting free of the gully when an Officer stopped him.
"Have you seen Corporal Harris?"
"I couldn't say sir." Griz's honesty was met with a growl and rolled eyes.
"Have you seen an Corporal filling sandbags?"
"Yes, sir! He's about 500 yards behind me."
"Then go back to him and say that you've been assigned to help him fill the bags, that firing point is coming along too slowly."
"Yes, sir." Griz turned and retraced his steps up the dry little gully to where the Officer was still filling bags.
"Corporal Harris?"
"What do you want?" The NCO looked at him in annoyance.
"I was ordered to help you Corporal."
"There's a shovel over there and even more bags, help yourself." Harris turned back to his work without even glancing at Griz again. Griz paused for a second, then grabbed a shovel and a bag and set to work. Filling sandbags had a specific knack to them, and Griz was thoroughly in command of the art of filling sandbags, so with minimum effort and maximum speed he was soon packing the bags full and setting the ends so the contents didn't leak out again.
"Blimey Teddy mate, don't burn out." Harris had stopped work and was watching Griz's progress with stunned amazement.
"Yes, Corporal." Griz didn't change a single motion as he responded and soon a load was ready, the work was not particularly difficult as his previous descent had brought a lot of rubble down into the gully. With the load complete Griz picked up as many as he could carry and looked expectantly at Harris, who had picked up two sandbags. They moved off down the gully in single file and soon were wriggling through a network of unfamiliar saps. The firing point was about half built, the position of it didn't half say that the command were planning some sort of action, and Behr had a feeling that the action would be messy. It was another two hours of work before the point was completed and Griz went to get three more sandbags while Harris built the loophole. Coming back his stomach tied itself up in sympathetic knots, an NCO had obviously got in the way of a catapulter, for the man lay slumped on a stretcher which was bearing him to the back of the lines. There was almost no probability of the man surviving, half his face had been caught in the blast, Griz himself had had some near misses with catapulters, the catapulters were nearly as great a liability as the bombs themselves, but at the same time he had to admit that the bombs were incredibly effective. Made from used jam tins, they consisted of general trench trash and a small charge, and Griz knew for a fact that they made a hideous mess of anything that got in the way. At the firing point a guard was standing looking rather ill. Griz unloaded his three bags and put them in place before turning to the guard.
"What happened to Corporal Harris?"
"Damn catapulter thought we were Turks or something, pitched his jam tin in here and copped the Corporal as he looked back in to check."
"Who needs to be informed about this?"
"Infantry Officer up hopper way." The guard jerked a laconic thumb further up the same trench. So Griz took another look at the point then hustled off up the trench, the thing looked fine to him but neither was he an R.E., those Royal Engineers frequently wouldn't clear constructions for reasons that Griz couldn't understand. Nevertheless Griz scurried up the trench until he found the Infantry Officer in question.
"Sir, I got told to tell you that the firing point is prepared."
"Right." A curt order was given and a group moved off in the direction of the point. Griz hesitated for a minute, then, having received no instructions at all, he headed back towards the dry gully where he had initially been recruited by the R.E. Officer.
"Evening Private." It was nearly seven when the Officer who had initially ordered him to help with the sandbags reappeared.
"The Corporal was hit, sir, and carried back to the dressing station, what should I do with the equipment?" Griz stubbed out his cigarette as the Officer came into sight and rose hurriedly to his feet. The Officer turned his head and glanced at the pile of equipment.
"Leave it, someone else will come get them later, you....... Maybe I better clear that firing point." The Officer led the way through the network of trenches until they reached a small rise that looked down on the point. Griz's brows lifted at the activity which was occuring below, smoke concealed most of what might be seen, but bombs and explosives were flying thick and fast. "Well it seems to be working alright, the point is cleared." The Officer reversed and turned.
"Sir, could you tell me how to get to the Australian Light Horse?"
"You're miles from home Private. That way. You'll either find them or walk into the sea, or both." The Officer waved a hand in the other direction than they had just come
"Thank you sir." Griz knew he would cop it when he got back since he was late and he had no rifle. Without doubt he would be on orderly duties the next day, either that or worse.
The rooms were filling swiftly with people from the nearby military camp and with people from Meryton and its surrounds. All the faces were now very familiar to Darcy, except for one face which was conspicuously absent, and more than one young lady was showing disappointment over his absence. That Wickham was tied up in the matter of the piece of paper Darcy now knew without any doubt, but where he was in it was another matter entirely. From his seat on a windowsill Darcy watched silently as Bingley and his sisters moved about through the crowd, taking a minute to talk to everyone, to feel the atmosphere. The seating arrangement was still unfinalised and Bingley would have to give the final positions soon or he would have to announce a table scramble, which meant that everyone sat wherever and Darcy had to admit he was not to partial to them as he usually ended up with absolutely frightful table companions...he usually ended up with frightful table companions no matter how the seating went, but that was beside the point.
The Bennets arrived with their usual fanfare and a large number of the officers moved towards the door. Darcy rolled his eyes and looked away, he had the feeling that tonight was going to be very long and painful, long because Darcy was not a great fan of social activities, and painful because he had finally dispensed with his brace for the evening and the tendons and muscles in his lower leg were already starting to raise their protests against usage. Darcy pulled out his watch and took a look at it, carefully closing his right eye before he looked, he had only once made the error of trying to read his watch through that monocle and it was an error he never intended to repeat. Admittedly he had found no equal to it for an innocuous looking device which was easily transformed into a respectable telescope, but to actually look at something through it which was at close range was indeed an error.
Elizabeth had not been looking forward to this evening, the week preceding had been miserable and wet, which meant that except for Jane no one left the house. Elizabeth had taken shelter frequently in the kitchens where Mr. and Mrs. Hill ruled supreme, it was a practice she had taken up almost as soon as she became a VAD, and now she was sufficiently skilled that she could help somewhat with the various duties. Wet weather spelt no trips to Meryton for the inhabitants of Longbourn, and as a result Lydia and Kitty had spent the week complaining bitterly on the fortunes of fate that they could have weeks of clear when they had no wish to go to Meryton, then when they wanted to go it rained. Elizabeth had to admit disappointment when she realized that Wickham was not to be present for the evening, she had been hoping for the third dance with him, her first two had been claimed by the Reverend Collins and that was something Elizabeth was not looking forward to.
"Lizzie!" It was Charlotte Lucas who came hurrying over. "Oh Lizzie, it's been an age since I've seen you. Can you make it to tomorrow night's meeting?"
"I don't know." Elizabeth returned Charlotte's embrace. "I haven't been out of the house for an age so maybe I will make it."
"I would be glad if you could make it Lizzie, we have a magnificent speaker coming. He's a Count from Warsaw and has quite a good reputation, we were more then a little surprised when he accepted our invitation to come and speak here. Admittedly we have quite a respectable number of people here, but I cannot fool myself that we might live up to London or Glasgow, apparently he is going to Glasgow once he has finished here and he has just finished in London."
"He can't be intending to stop here and nowhere else." Elizabeth was so stunned that she didn't even realise that Mr. Darcy had once more moved his position so he could overhear her conversation.
"That's what it looks like, we count it as quite a compliment to our work."
"That doesn't surprise me at all." Elizabeth gave Charlotte a teasing smile, then groaned. "Oh dear, here comes Reverend Collins. I'll speak to you later Charlotte." Elizabeth turned away and was promptly escorted onto the floor by Mr. Collins. Charlotte watched Elizabeth onto the floor with a slightly disappointed look.
"Something the matter to cause Miss Lucas to frown?" The soft voice had Charlotte looking up.
"Why Mr. Darcy, please take a seat. I had not realised you were here tonight."
"I tend to keep a low profile when the armed forces come out in force." Darcy was well aware that Miss Lucas would misconstrue his meaning, but he had no intention of telling her that he actually kept a low profile because he was dead afraid that someone would recognise him.
"Yes, I will agree that I do not understand it at all. How did you like Mr. Harolds yesterday?"
"Quite impressive oratory, but I feel he chose a weak subject."
"The man could hardly help the presence of those privates at the back of the hall."
"No he couldn't have helped them, but he could have ignored them. Nothing more degrading then seeing him wrangling with the masses of the army. I can assure you that the Count Alexei will never stoop that low."
"You know Count Alexei?"
"I have met him on several occasions, a most inspiring speaker, I have never met his equal when it comes to speaking."
"It is certainly a pleasure to hear what you say on his account Mr. Darcy, we were somewhat surprised when he agreed to come here, but maybe we can put his presence down to you."
"I doubt that Miss Lucas, Count Alexei actually prefers to travel into the unknown, he is more likely to go places where no one else has been then to go places where his friends are."
"Have you spoken with Mary Bennet, she is by far the most knowledgeable one of us."
"Indeed I have spoken with her, I held a most interesting conversation with her at your father's party a week or so ago." The conversation had in fact supplied Darcy with much amusement and the surprising knowledge that Miss Lucas was only a recent acquisition, though a most energetic one.
"Oh yes, I remember, you had just left her when my father tried to get you to partner Miss Elizabeth Bennet for a dance."
"Is the Reverend Collins in your group?" Darcy had been watching that gentleman dance with a faint touch of amusement, no surprise the man hadn't enlisted he definitely had very flat feet, if not something worse.
"He is a member, though he does most of his work arranging for speakers here through his patroness, there is in fact a rumour that he is shortly to change his parish, which will be a sad loss to us."
"Indeed I could believe that to be so. Who is his patroness?"
"Lady Catherine de Bourgh from Kent, a most kind patroness she has been, she has made it possible for us to have many speakers we would otherwise have been unable to get."
"Indeed, Lady Catherine is a most devoted member to the search for peace. Absolutely shocking the losses we have suffered in this recent offensive, and to think that none of it would have happened if the government hadn't considered it their duty to interfere with this fight."
"Perhaps you would be willing to speak in one of our upcoming meetings."
"I fear I must refuse, I am most certainly not a public speaker of any note and even worse skill."
"I'm sure you underestimate yourself Mr. Darcy."
"I am sure I do not Miss Lucas, for I am easily cornered by my background."
"Your background Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes, I am most unfortunate in the fact that most of my relatives are either holding prominent places in the military or have held prominent places in the military."
"I could believe that to be most awkward on occasion, but I am pleased that even with that you have managed to see the light and take the wise stand."
"I am glad to have attained your approval Miss Lucas." Darcy stood up as he spoke and after a brief bow he moved away to another point of the room, leaving Charlotte to puzzle over his words, for they had left her feeling vaguely uncomfortable, like she had been caught where she ought not to be.
Elizabeth had taken the third dance with Lieutenant Denny and it had certainly made up for the two dances with Mr. Collins, he had also given her Wickham's apologies. Wickham had not felt it would be wise for him to come as he might do something he would regret later. She had the fourth dance with Lieutenant McKenna, but could not get from him the reason for why he always called Denny Pip, and as a result let herself be pacified with the history of Nero, a history she found most diverting she had to admit. She sat the fifth out as she wished to speak with Charlotte, not that she actually had much to talk about.
"Miss Bennet." Elizabeth rolled her eyes as Mr. Darcy's voice softly interjected into her conversation.
"Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth turned to look at him, wondering if her expression was as annoyed as she felt.
"I was wondering if I might have the honour of the next dance with you?" Darcy noted ruefully that Elizabeth was looking a trifle annoyed, oh well if she accepted it could be his penance for being so foolish as to try dancing, he would now have to dance with Miss Bingley, and quite possibly her sister as well. He could of course cry off, but the only way he could cry off would be to claim injury, and the only way he could claim an injury was by claiming that he sustained it dancing with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and that was certainly something he had no intention of admitting.
"Well..." Elizabeth stopped, she had absolutely no reason or excuse for refusing him. "Certainly Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth watched in silence as he accepted her response with a curt bow before walking away.
"Goodness Lizzie, you are popular tonight, in all the time Mr. Darcy has been in Meryton he has danced with no one except for the occasional dance with one of Mr. Bingley's sisters."
"I am well aware of that Charlotte, and I am furious that I had no suitable excuse."
"You weren't intending to refuse him Lizzie?" Charlotte looked surprised.
"Of course, surely you don't think I would willingly dance with Mr. Darcy after what he did to Mr. Wickham."
"I am not going into that Lizzie, but you must admit that Mr. Darcy has a lot more consequence that Mr. Wickham has, it would not be at all wise to snub him. Besides which, you may find him to be an enjoyable partner."
"I'll snub whoever I like Charlotte, now if you'll excuse me, I observe Mr. Darcy approaching and I wish this dance to be over as soon as possible. Even you cannot wish the evil on me to enjoy a partner I am determined to hate."
"Oh Lizzie, there are times when you are very foolish." Charlotte spoke softly as Elizabeth walked away, it was no lack of annoyance to her that Elizabeth continued to work at the hospital and uphold the war.
"So Mr. Darcy, are you enjoying this ball?" It was some minutes into the dance when Elizabeth finally spoke, and she spoke only because she knew that it would cause a lot of talk if they went through the entire dance without exchanging a word, enough talk had already been generated by the mere fact that he was standing up with someone outside his own party, Elizabeth did not want even more to generate.
"Most certainly, Miss Bennet." His response was cool and conversation certainly did not flourish between them, another five minutes passed in silence. Half the dance was over and they had exchanged approximately a dozen words.
"Now it is your turn Mr. Darcy, you might comment on the number of people here, or perhaps the size of the room."
"You may consider it said Miss Bennet." This response was accompanied by a slight smile and Elizabeth immediately made a conscious effort not to crease her brows together. What did he mean by that response? and why was he smiling?
"That will be sufficient for now, but bye and by you are permitted to observe whether you prefer public balls to private balls, then we may be silent."
"Do you talk as a rule while dancing Miss Bennet?" This question followed the observation that he had been to few balls so he had no opinion on the matter.
"Well it certainly causes a lot less talk if the partners are observed to be conversing then if they pass a full twenty minutes without exchanging a word."
"I had not considered that."
"Most conversation though is arranged so a minimum need be said."
"And in that are you consulting your own feelings or attempting to consult mine?" The dance separated at this point giving Elizabeth time to find a suitable response.
"Both." She gave her own small smile, and was satisfied by the slight frown that appeared between his brows. "I have observed that we both have a similar turn of mind when it comes to conversing out loud. We prefer either to say nothing at all, or something that will draw the attention of the entire room."
"I fear you do yourself an injustice Miss Bennet." The crease which had vanished had returned again, but oddly enough it was merely a crease of concentration, not of annoyance. "You probably think that to be a faithful portrait."
"I never presume to analyse my own character." Silence fell with this remark for an entire length of the dance.
"You often walk to Meryton?" The question came as they started the next round.
"Quite frequently." Elizabeth let out a small smile as a little devil prodded an idea into her mind. "We were making a new acquaintance when we met you the other day." Elizabeth noted in surprise that Mr. Darcy's features stiffened remarkably, she had not thought that a man could look even more arrogant and haughty then Mr. Darcy usually did, but she was now proved more than wrong and an uncomfortable silence settled on them.
"Mr. Wickham had a great ability to make friends when I was acquainted with him, his continued ability to retain them is another matter entirely."
"He seems unfortunate enough to have lost your friendship." Elizabeth responded with emphasis. "In a manner which he is likely to suffer from for his entire life."
"On that matter I would not concern yourself Miss Bennet." The tone of the response was very stiff and it wasn't half obvious that Mr. Darcy wished for the subject to change.
"Mr. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth, what a pleasure to see you dance." Sir William Lucas interjected into what was a very uncomfortable silence. "Such superior dancing is rarely to be seen in Meryton, but with luck we will see it again. Ehhh Miss Eliza, a time when the congratulations flow." Sir William cast a significant look over at Jane and Bingley. "But I do apologise for interrupting you, Sir you will be eager to return to the dance and one young lady's eyes are upbraiding me." Sir William ducked away, little realising that his last words had hardly been heard and certainly not registered by either party, for Mr. Darcy was staring thoughtfully across at where his friend was dancing, and Elizabeth was trying to ignore a worried feeling as she watched the strong face which was above her, it was not the first time that Mr. Darcy's extreme height more than annoyed her, she would need a chair at least before she might equal his height, and one could not dance on a chair. Height was frequently an advantage when it came to an argument, there was nothing so damping as having someone look down their nose at you.
"Your pardon Miss Bennet, Sir William's interruption has caused me to forget what we were talking about." Darcy recovered himself with a start and turned back to his partner.
"We were speaking of nothing Mr. Darcy, I doubt Sir William could have possibly found anyone else in the room with so little to say as we have. I have not the slightest idea about what we might talk of next for I have run completely out of prepared subjects."
"What think you of books?" Darcy couldn't think of any subject less likely to produce a conversation.
"Books - Oh no, certainly not books. We should never agree on them."
"Why not discuss our disagreements then?"
"Certainly not in a ballroom, I can never think of books in a ballroom." Elizabeth's attention wandered.
"You are occupied solely by the present...scenes then?" Darcy was doubtful on this, and on whether she was paying any attention to him at all.
"Oh yes, certainly." Elizabeth had in fact not even heard the question he had asked, and realised as soon as she had spoken that that was far from the best response to make when you haven't heard a question. "I remember you once saying that you hardly ever forgave, and that your disapproval once earned was unappeasable."
"It has certainly appeared to me to be like that." Darcy's response was cautious, though this absolute change in direction of conversation more than verified the matter that she had not listened to his question.
"I assume you are then cautious about where you bestow it?"
"I am." Darcy had no doubts on that score.
"You never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?" Elizabeth finally lifted her eyes from his waistcoat button and looked curiously up at him. There were many disadvantages to being so close to someone who was so much taller than you, one of which was the fact that you could only look at their face for a short space of time before the neck became cramped.
"I certainly hope not." Darcy responded warily as he had no idea where this was headed.
"It is particularly important for those who possess implacable hatred to be careful where they create it." Elizabeth dropped her eyes back to his waistcoat button, not only was her neck stiff but it also gave him a better view of her expressions than she got of his.
"To where do these questions tend Miss Bennet?" His tone was curious.
"Oh, I am merely trying to get a sketch of your character." Elizabeth looked up again with a slight laugh, trying to lighten her mood.
"And are you having any success?" His tone remained curious, had anyone else asked the question Elizabeth knew she would have become angry, so she was somewhat puzzled that his question disturbed her not at all.
"No success at all, I am totally befogged on the subject. One hears such...different...accounts that I find you most puzzling."
"I could readily believe that report on me varies greatly, and I would wish that you do not try to sketch my character now Miss Bennet, I fear the outcome would reflect ill on both."
"But if I do not sketch it now I may never have another opportunity."
"Be it not in me to deny you a pleasure Miss Bennet." The response was cold and definitely annoyed Elizabeth.
"Is your brother much like you?"
"My brother." An expression Elizabeth had no name for flitted across Darcy's face and as he had given no answer, Elizabeth was unwilling to start another question, and as he said no more the dance ended in silence with both of them unhappy with the outcome. Elizabeth had immediately departed and gone to the punch bowl, where she was detained by Miss Bingley.
"So Miss Eliza, I hear you are acquainted with Mr. George Wickham, Mr. Darcy's father's steward."
"So he has said himself." Elizabeth responded in a disinterested tone hoping that Miss Bingley would give up in disgust and walk away.
"I fear that he is not an acquaintance you should cultivate."
"And why not?"
"I have heard that he behaved shamefully to Mr. Darcy."
"And what did he do?"
"That I do not know."
"Then his crime and his descent seem to be the same thing."
"I beg your pardon, I was only trying to be helpful." Miss Bingley walked away, leaving Elizabeth to set down her punch glass in annoyance and walk out onto the balconies. She slid silently out onto the balcony and sat down in the shade of some shrub hoping that no one had seen her come and that no one else was out there, she wished to be alone. She had a moment or two of respite before a door opened and slow deliberate footsteps paced out onto the balcony.
"Sir?" It was a soft whisper and Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Yes Nash." The response was quiet, but even if the name mentioned had been unfamiliar the voice was unmistakable, one did not forget the voice of a dancing partner who annoyed you that quickly.
"You are five minutes late, sir."
"Just give it here." Darcy was more than a little annoyed, he had just had one of the worst dances in his career, not that he could blame his partner for it, and now Nash was taking him to task on a matter he was all too conscious about.
"I don't like it sir."
"I'm not asking your opinion, just give me the stuff."
"But sir..."
"Do you want me to hit you Nash?"
"No, sir."
"Then give it here before I bloody well do. I know, Alastair wouldn't approve of what I'm doing, you don't approve of what I'm doing, I don't approve of what I'm doing, but I damn well don't have a choice. Now give the stuff here."
"Sorry sir." Nash's response was apologetic.
"Don't be sorry, just don't try to tell me what I should and shouldn't do."
"Your cane sir?"
"I don't need it." Darcy hurriedly drank off the slight dose of morphia and sat down heavily on the bench.
"Will you be alright sir?"
"I'll be fine, just shut up."
"Yes, sir." Nash slid quietly away, and Darcy knew that Nash had gone to get his cane. There was a soft creak and Darcy jerked his head up, the last thing he needed was company at this moment. The sound wasn't repeated so after a minute Darcy lowered his head and ran a cautious hand up and down his leg, by the feel the problem was solely muscles unused to such a large amount of work.
"Thank you Nash." It was some five minutes later when Nash returned with the cane and Darcy had the feeling that it would come in use, but right now it was nearly suppertime and he needed to get inside.
"Sir?" Nash held out his hand having noticed that Darcy had seated himself in a position where he had absolutely nothing to help him get to his feet again.
"You need to get to bed Nash." Darcy took the offered hand and used it as little as possible, Nash's rather breathless condition did not escape his notice. "You need to get back on the machine."
"So fortunate for you, what stories I could tell if I wasn't dependent on that machine." Nash sounded a trifle disgruntled
"Couldn't you just, maybe I'll respond by finishing the job off." Darcy couldn't help a glimmer of laughter in response to Nash's devilish look. "Get to bed." Darcy waited until Nash had left the balcony again before finally re-entering the ballroom, he went immediately to his supper
Elizabeth scowled darkly out over the balcony as the door closed behind Mr. Darcy, she had never heard such arrogance before, Mr. Darcy hadn't even attempted to sound like he was paying any attention to Nash at all. Well if she had had any doubts about the history of Wickham her doubts were now settled, Nash was indeed dependent on something that Darcy could supply and he sounded disgruntled by his situation. Elizabeth shook herself and stood up, it must nearly be suppertime and she didn't actually know where she was meant to be sitting.
"Elizabeth." Jane caught her arm as she came back into the ballroom. "I've been looking for you all over."
"I was just outside Jane, the air in here is quite stuffy."
"Well it is nearly suppertime, besides which I needed to talk to you."
"What about?" Elizabeth carefully arranged her cheerful smile.
"Well you had asked me to ask Mr. Bingley about Mr. Wickham, anyway I did. Mr. Bingley says that certainly Mr. Wickham was to be given financial support through theological college, but there were some conditions attached. He doesn't precisely remember what those conditions were but he seems to think that Mr. Wickham behaved somewhat badly to Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley was somewhat unsure of the history as he has not seen Mr. Wickham in five or six years, but he does say that Mr. Darcy would never treat badly someone who did not deserve it."
"You surprise me Jane, I assumed from your expression that you had probably forgotten all about Mr. Wickham. Still I will certainly not say anything against the sincerity or honesty of Mr. Bingley's character, but I feel that his reading of his friend is inaccurate. I just heard the way Mr. Darcy treats his valet and he threatened to hit the man."
"Valet!" Jane let out an exclamation. "Oh dear, Mr. Bingley did say something concerning Mr. Darcy's valet, but I cannot remember what it was."
"Try Jane, please try, the man appears so unwell most of the time and he is apparently dependent on some machine."
"Machine." Jane grabbed another word and creased her brows. "What he said had something to do with Nash, apparently the man was shot in a hunting accident sometime last year. It was a shotgun and from what I understand the man has only one lung left. Bingley says that Nash is only alive thanks to his iron constitution and the generosity of Mr. Darcy as he is very reliant on a lung motor."
"And he thr..." Elizabeth suddenly marched away to the supper tables absolutely seething, that Mr. Darcy would even consider hitting a man so disabled...unless Mr. Darcy had caused the accident, after all hadn't Wickham said that Darcy had ensured that Nash couldn't tell. Elizabeth's head spun as the idea settled, surely even Mr. Darcy couldn't be that despicable...or could he?
"Lizzie, is something the matter?" Jane caught her sister by the arm worried that such a thunderous frown would cause talk.
"No Jane it was just an unpleasant thought. How was your dance with Mr. Bingley?" Elizabeth was satisfied with the diversion created by her question and listened with honest pleasure to Jane as she commented on her hopes and thoughts concerning that gentleman, until that gentleman arrived then Elizabeth excused herself and went to join Charlotte who was standing next to the wall looking at nothing in particular.
"Lizzie! How was your dance?" Charlotte was delighted when Elizabeth came up to her.
"Which dance? My dances with Mr. Collins were bad, my dance with Mr. Denny and my dance with Mr. McKenna were most enjoyable, however my dance with Mr. Darcy made Mr. Collins a most respectable partner."
"Lizzie! do not exaggerate."
"I'm not, as a dancer Mr. Darcy far outclasses Mr. Collins, but as a conversationalist he makes a drainpipe seem talkative."
"You seemed to be talking quite a bit after the first couple of minutes."
"Ten minutes Charlotte, and after that bout of silence we were arguing."
"Well then you must have said something for Mr. Darcy is not argumentative."
"Charlotte!" Elizabeth stared at her friend in amazement. "When did you become such a expert on the subject of Mr. Darcy?"
"I do not claim to be an expert on Mr. Darcy, I merely said that Mr. Darcy is not argumentative."
"Well I most certainly disagree with that!" Though Elizabeth had to admit that the argument on the dance floor was entirely her fault as she had been deliberately provoking him. "I spent nearly a week in his company and I can say that he provoked everyone he could, and did it deliberately."
"You exaggerate Elizabeth." Charlotte suddenly smiled. "'Evening Mr. Collins."
"Miss Lucas." The Reverend Collins nodded briefly then turned to Elizabeth. "Cousin Elizabeth I have just come to tell you a most amazing discovery I just made. I cannot think why it escaped me before, and I really deplore that it did escape me, my noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh would be most disapproving if she knew I had made it. But I heard it from his own lips when he was speaking to Miss Bingley, the lady who was doing the honours this evening, I heard him refer to his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh and his cousin Anne de Bourgh. To think that I might possibly meet a nephew of one so highly respected, I must go and assure him that his aunt was well a se'ennight and one day ago. Too think that I had not known this before, I must plead guilty to negligence of duty and hope he will forgive me for not having introduced myself before. My ignorance must plead for my failure to pay my respects."
"You're not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth was absolutely horrified.
"No, I am going to introduce myself to the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, to call him Mr. Darcy is an offense when he is such a close relation to such a great lady."
"But I am sure that Mr. Darcy will consider your introducing yourself a gross impertinence." Elizabeth continued for most of a minute to persuade Mr. Collins that Mr. Darcy was more likely to take offense then he was to take it as a compliment if Mr. Collins were to introduce himself, but her protests were in vain as Mr. Collins spoke as soon as she paused to take a breath.
"Your forethought and concern does you credit Cousin Elizabeth, but I feel that I know better as I have been in the world for many more years than you have. Certainly I agree with you that he would be more likely to take offense than take it as a compliment if one of the rabble were suddenly to introduce himself to the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but as an emissary of our noble Lord I feel that such a move as introducing myself would not be considered an impertinence, in fact I feel sure that he should take it as a compliment that I am concerned enough for him that I trouble myself to assure him of his aunt's good health..." At this point Elizabeth gave up even attempting to listen to what Mr. Collins was saying and it was with a sigh of relief and despair that she watched Mr. Collins leave them and approach Mr. Darcy some two minutes later.
"Lizzie." Jane suddenly came and stood behind her, with Jane's arrival Charlotte discreetly left.
"Yes, he announced his entire plan before he acted on it. He seems to feel that it is negligence on his behalf that he did not discover Mr. Darcy's relationship to Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
"Oh dear."
"That, Jane, is an understatement." Elizabeth watched with growing embarrassment as Mr. Darcy's expression grew ever more haughty and distasteful, before Mr. Darcy slammed the small notebook he was holding together and stood up. He addressed a few words to the bowing Mr. Collins, then turned and walked away to where the punch bowl was situated.
"Cousin Elizabeth, I have come to report that he was most gratified by the concern I had and he did not seem to consider it at all impertinent of me to so address him."
"I'm glad to hear it cousin." Elizabeth turned slightly then excused herself, she did not believe that the evening could get any more embarrassing.
"Why my dear Mrs. Lucas, of course it is to be. I have never seen a man so in love before." It wasn't until she started to sit down that Elizabeth realized that not only was she seated but one seat from her own mother, but Lydia was on the same table and Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth was prepared to revise her thought that the evening could not get any worse, it most certainly could, and plainly intended to do so. "And to think of my dear Jane so well settled in such a lovely house. Such a comfort for a mother to have a daughter so well settled."
"Mama!" Elizabeth hissed in horror, for Mr. Darcy could hear every word of what she was saying.
"Such a pity all the girls won't marry so well, in fact I'll be surprised if Lizzie here marries at all, she is so determined to be independent, and so...unladylike." Mrs. Bennet shuddered, but at the same time cast Elizabeth a 'told-you-so' look. "Those trousers of hers! But will she listen to her mother? Not at all, Miss Lizzie always claims to know best! But back to my dear Jane, it will be such a comfort to have her settled so close, she is bound to attract rich young men, and then the other girls will marry well to."
"Mama!" Elizabeth hardly even bothered to lower her voice this time, how could their mother so betray herself in front of Mr. Darcy.
"No Lizzie I will not be quiet, I do not care if Mr. Darcy can hear me, what care I for the opinion of such an ill-bred man? No Lady Lucas, none will equal my Jane in beauty, and such a relief it will be when she marries she'll probably stop working at that awful hospital, our life has been so uncertain ever since dear Folin died." Mrs. Bennet dabbed at her eyes affectedly and Elizabeth hurriedly excused herself from the table. She could take it no longer, it was bad enough having to listen to her mother talking about Jane in that manner, but to drag Folin into it. Elizabeth fled, but not before she noted that Mr. Darcy's expression had changed from disgusted contempt to grave consideration. Elizabeth returned from the ladies room as soon as she had recovered and immediately had an urge to return, for Mary had just risen to play and entertain the company. Elizabeth wondered how much it would take to bribe the floor to open up and swallow her as Mary began her first song. It was not that Mary was not a good piano player, in fact Elizabeth knew for a fact that technically speaking there was no better player in Meryton, unfortunately Mary's playing was as interesting as a slate pencil and her voice sounded the same. It was with eagerness that Elizabeth awaited for the close of the first song, but her eagerness was ill rewarded as Mary began a second song after very minimal encouragement. Elizabeth turned to look at Jane as the second song began, but Jane was sunk in conversation with Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth's composure was aided not in the slightest by the sight of Bingley's two sisters making signs of derision to each other, her eyes then passed onto Mr. Darcy, who continued to stare at his wine glass with impenetrable gravity, Elizabeth then looked to her father, who nodded slightly, then back at Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy sat there with one piece of chicken on his plate and with a full wine glass in front of him, it was such an odd setup that Elizabeth couldn't help but stare at it, why should he have one piece of chicken and a full wine glass?
"Thank you Mary, you have entertained us quite enough, perhaps if you let some of the other young ladies display?" It was the sound of her father's voice that drew Elizabeth away from her puzzle over the oddness of Darcy's setup and into the realisation that Mary has finished her second song and that she, Elizabeth, should be applauding. It was in a half hearted manner that Elizabeth applied her hands together and it was in sympathy that Elizabeth viewed Mary flush, it seemed her entire family were out to embarrass her and Jane that evening, how could her father have been so insensitive when it came to putting a hold on Mary's performance. Elizabeth glanced unconsciously back at Darcy as Mary descended and Miss Bingley ascended to the piano, but her unconscious glance turned into a very conscious study, for Mr. Darcy had now looked away from his wine glass and was studying Bingley and Jane with that same impenetrable gravity.
"Mr. Darcy!" Miss Bingley was only halfway through her technically complex piece when Lydia's shrill tones interrupted proceedings. "Mr. Darcy you promised me a dance!" A soft ripple of laughter eddied around the room when Lydia voiced her demand and Miss Bingley's music died away in an atonal chord. Elizabeth turned her head and stared at Lydia and Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy was staring at Lydia as if his chicken had suddenly sat up and started talking.
"I beg your pardon?" His tone was most blighting.
"You promised me a dance!" Lydia repeated her demand.
"There is no dance music playing." Mr. Darcy shifted slightly as if to close the conversation, but he obviously had not counted on the determined streak in Lydia.
"You promised me a dance!"
"Go on! Give her a dance!" It was one of the Canadian Officers who suddenly spoke up.
"As I observed before and as I will observe again, there is no dance music." Icicles were practically hanging off each letter as he uttered them.
"Well I'm sure our hostess will oblige us." The same officer cried. "Miss Bingley, please, some music we may dance to." Miss Bingley responded by closing the piano lid and descending back to her seat. "Alright! Miss Mary Bennet, will you oblige us with some dance music?" Mary immediately rose and took her position, giving out the warm up chords of a jig. In a remarkably short space of time the tables were pushed to the sides and couples had risen, Mr. Darcy himself had risen, but he showed no intention of doing anything other then possibly leaving the room.
"Let her what proposed it and him what noted the lack of music start it." Once again the Canadian's voice rang out and as he spoke Elizabeth felt a tap on her shoulder, and turning she observed Lieutenant McKenna to be holding out a mute hand. Elizabeth accepted it promptly and joined the other couples who were forming up on the floor.
"This could get interesting." McKenna's remark was made in a low undertone.
"Why do you say that?" Elizabeth looked at him curiously.
"We're nearly at quota for this particular floor and dance and our friend Mr. Darcy is yet to take his position with your sister."
"You think he actually will?"
"He has to." McKenna grinned suddenly. "Thanks to your sister's very public announcement, he is compelled to dance, either that or suffer a visit from the Canadians."
"Suffer a visit?"
"They're Canadians, not always precisely civilised in some of their notions and if Darcy lets them down I am sure they will make a fuss... " McKenna's explanation was interrupted by another yell from the Canadian who had really set proceedings rolling.
"Last one in is a Monkey with wax on his tail and they have to dance the jig a second time alone."
"I knew it!" McKenna's whisper was gleeful as Darcy suddenly dragged Lydia onto the floor, only just beating a flimsy looking officer in a Canadian uniform who was dragging Mariah Lucas.
"Hey! Lead the way man!" The Canadian immediately formed up behind Darcy and the other couples soon followed suite, and it was with surprise that Elizabeth identified the possessor of the voice in the flimsy looking Lieutenant. Mary, having patiently given warm-up chords through all of this finally went on and started the jig. The jig had been going for perhaps five minutes when Darcy suddenly fell. The room froze as he crashed to the floor, there was something terrifying about the way he fell, then Bingley was at his side in a flash from his position on the edge of the dancing.
"Are you alright S...Darcy?"
"I'm fine Bingley, just give me a hand up." Darcy grabbed Bingley's shoulder and hauled himself to his feet. He stood there for a minute gingerly testing his right leg before walking up to the flimsy Officer who began the matter, he limped only slightly as he approached the man, and before anyone could react Darcy had suddenly lifted the man into the air by his collar.
"Wha...?" The man's protest died away into a gurgle both from a sudden shortage of air induced by the hold on his collar and because murder was clearly to be read in Darcy's expression. Dead silence fell on the room, not a man uttering a word and everyone watching tensely.
"In future my friend, I suggest you investigate matters further before you interfere with things." Darcy then contemptuously dropped the man and turned towards the door. As he turned the room seemed to re-animate, some of the women fainted and there was an instant rush first towards the officer who was tugging weakly at his collar, then towards Darcy, who was limping slowly towards the door.
"Stop!" Mr. Bennet's yell caught the room by surprise and everyone stopped, including Darcy whom wheeled around and stared thoughtfully back towards Mr. Bennet, silence came to the room once more. "A more disgraceful display I have never before witnessed by members of the armed forces, are all of you intending to rough up one man?" Mr. Bennet looked enquiringly down at the officers who were headed towards Darcy.
"He attacked Lieutenant Phelps." A Canadian voice objected from somewhere in the mob.
"Who says he attacked Lieutenant Phelps?"
"I do!" A fairly burly looking Lieutenant stepped forward.
"Well permit me to introduce myself, my name is Colonel Bennet." A gasp of amazement went around the room as Mr. Bennet suddenly jerked the man off his feet by his collar. "Do you call that an attack?" Mr. Bennet returned the Lieutenant to the ground.
"No, sir!" The Lieutenant gave a stiff salute as his feet met the ground and he could resume regular breathing.
"Then why do you call his move an attack?"
"He's not an officer in the army!"
"How do you know?"
"He's not in any uniform."
"So an officer can do that and it is not called an attack, while a civilian is said to be attacking because he does the same thing?"
"Well, yes sir." The Lieutenant was starting to look uncomfortable.
"Then what makes an officer?"
"Well sir..." The Lieutenant started to look very uncomfortable.
"Mr. Bennet, sir." It was Darcy's soft tones, which interrupted the Lieutenant's nervous gurgling.
"Yes Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Bennet turned to look at Darcy.
"Perhaps you leave me to my own fights?"
"Darcy!!!" Bingley suddenly came to his feet.
"Bingley be quiet!" Darcy didn't even take his eyes off Mr. Bennet, while Bingley subsided back into his seat.
"Your fight Mr. Darcy? I thought you were issuing a warning?"
"Indeed I was, I was warning him in future to be wary of situations where someone refuses to do something. There is usually a reason for it."
"You trying to say there was a reason for your refusing to dance?" The second Lieutenant stared at him in disbelief.
"Seems odd doesn't it? Seems even odder that I was enough annoyed with my fall that I bothered to lift such a wispy scrap of humanity off the floor."
"I'll admit it, it does."
"Then I suggest in future you and your fellow officers make inquiries BEFORE enforcing a form of action."
"That still doesn't explain why you lifted Phelps off the floor."
"You care to fight the matter out with me?" Suddenly the entire room seemed to realise that Mr. Darcy was a good head taller than the rest of the room and at least as broad.
"Wax tail!" The Officer spat at Darcy as he turned away.
"Oh no you don't my friend." Darcy got in front of the Lieutenant in two steps and suddenly the Lieutenant was hanging by his collar. "Let me assure you my friend that no one wax tails me."
"Mr. Darcy, how do you know what he means?" Another Lieutenant came forward but he clearly was merely curious, nothing else.
"Not all of us are limited in our knowledge, you seem to have forgotten where that came from."
"Where what came from?" The Lieutenant lifted an eyebrow.
"Wax tailed monkeys. There were Canadian troops involved in the Boer War and the phrase comes from there."
"Know anything else about it?"
"Certainly, it is merely a translation of a curse which was used at Magreeta's Kraal."
"You've been to South Africa?"
"Before this war for a bit." Darcy suddenly shifted his grip then removed his right hand. "Name's Darcy, care to introduce yourself?"
"March, Lieutenant March." Elliot shook the offered hand.
"Hey March, could you see whether he'll release Morely, he's looking a bit blue."
"Would you possibly release Lieutenant Morely?"
"Depends." Darcy suddenly turned and looked at the Lieutenant he was holding, then made a sudden group of glottal sounds before dropping the Lieutenant back to the floor. "Now what were we talking about?"
"When you'd been in South Africa. You responded that it was just before the war. What did you say to him?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Darcy smiled slightly and left the room.
"Well I'm a monkey's uncle." McKenna rubbing his chin and gave a silent whistle before suddenly meeting Elizabeth's surprised gaze.
"Why do you say that? And is it the monkey with the waxed tail which has just been under discussion or some other monkey?"
"I think it was another monkey I'm the uncle of." McKenna turned sharply. "Bing are you sure that the Major is in a hospital in Kent?"
"Quite sure Mac, do you think the Major would wear civilian dress and ignore you?"
"I wouldn't be sure, the Major has done some damn queer things before." McKenna rubbed his chin again.
"Well if he's that queer then I'm mighty glad I won't have him for a C.O. again. Damn it all he doesn't even play Major to me if he is the Major."
"What's this about?" Elliot suddenly stepped closer.
"Friend Lieutenant McKenna here, known to all as Mac, knew the younger brother of Mr. Darcy. He has most intelligently observed along with most of the rest of the human race that there are many similarities between Mr. Darcy and his brother."
"Brother of Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes, last I heard of him he was in a Kentish hospital with his leg in a cradle. Major by rank, Major by manner, and I doubt you'll get far in France without hearing at least of his immense height. He was my Commanding Officer until we got shot up at Loos."
"That must have been fun."
"Not much, to much noise and blood for it to be fun."
"Do you know what he said to Morely?"
"Haven't the faintest idea." Bingley admitted with a grin. "I don't happen to be fluent in any form of language other than English."
"A pity, now Morely's going to have to ask the man in question himself."
"Well assure Morely that he probably won't get an answer. Well it looks like I have not only managed the ball to end all balls, but this evening looks like ending an hour sooner than expected." Bingley couldn't keep the bitter note out of his voice, he was very nearly angry, and at a guess he'd say that Caroline was angry judging from her expression.
"Looks like I'd better clear out then, I'm hoping to catch a lift back with Morely and Phelps."
"Fellow Company Officers?"
"Yep." Elliot gave his excuses before hurrying from the room. McKenna excused himself soon afterwards, and the party thinned away at a rapid rate. The Bennets were the last people to leave and even they were home within the hour, Mrs. Bennet complaining bitterly at such a sorry ending to such an enjoyable event.