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Posted on Date: Thursday, 7 June 2007

Chapter Twenty ~ A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

It was probably best that he had not woken even with her jumping; Darcy would probably not appreciate being compared to a dead mouse.

Kitty slipped out of the bed and into her dressing gown that Sally had clearly thoughtfully laid out for her. As she moved to stoke the fire a little more Kitty wondered what the maid sent to prepare the room and Sally had thought when they’d entered the room to find their master there, fully clothed. It was like those little things that niggled at Kitty that she often wanted to ask of others but it would be improper to do so.

So she just continued to wonder what Sally thought as she rang for her maid, who made no comment when Kitty moved into her dressing room to change into a morning dress.

“Is Georgiana down at breakfast, Sally?”

“I believe Miss Darcy is still abed, ma’am.”

“I thought it was quite late?”

“Yes ma’am but – “she broke off slightly flustered, and flushed at Kitty’s inquiring glance. “- after yesterday it is to be expected.”

Sally did not seem to want to comment any further and Kitty did not blame her.

“There,” Sally exclaimed as she pushed in the final pin that held the rather austere hair style that Sally had effected. Kitty had asked for quick and simple and was not entirely sure she liked the results.

As she turned her head this way and that in the mirror, she saw Sally looking conflicted. “Was there something else, Sally?”

“Mr Edwards was wondering – “

“Oh yes. I am sure Mr Darcy will ring when he needs him.”

Sally affected a curtsey and left the room, leaving Kitty with the question of what was the correct etiquette to wake up one’s husband. The range of options was almost limitless and somehow none of them seemed appropriate.

In the end she decided it was probably best to do nothing and go downstairs to breakfast.

Kitty was closing the door behind her as quietly as possible when she turned her head to see who was coming up the stairs. She assumed it was Mrs Annesley or one of the servants, but it was Lord Snitterton.

She was astounded to see him and he seemed equally so to see her, which struck her as entirely ridiculous as it was in fact her home.

“What are you doing here, my lord?” Kitty had no idea who would have admitted him, at least past the hallway. Any servant would have led him to the drawing room or Darcy’s study, not up here to the private rooms.

“I could say the same about you,” he replied.

“I do not know why you should,” Kitty felt her face heat and felt angry. He had every and no right to speak to her so.

Snitterton reached the hallway and lowered his voice, though who he expected would hear them Kitty did not know. Unless he suspected servants to be hiding in every corner having nothing better to do than spy on their employers.

“Do you not? I believe I told you what you were when we first met.”

“And I wish I had told you what you were,” said Kitty.

“And what would that be, ma’am?”

“The lowest creature upon this earth,” said Kitty, her hand shaking upon the door knob. She still had it placed there, subconsciously wishing to assure herself of some means of escape. “You think you may judge me? Judge yourself!”

“And what crimes might I judge myself of? I have none. You are the one who has brought shame upon this family. I told my father how it would be. Of course he chose to believe that my cousin could not be so fooled. He chose to believe that Darcy was impervious to the sort of mistakes that could ruin a young man’s life. I know better, of course. You think it was a crime to open his eyes?”

Kitty was silenced. It was such a difficult situation. She knew that she was in the wrong. But if Darcy spoke the truth (and why would he not?), then his cousin would have spread base lies about her whatever the outcome of any walk in the garden might have been. If he had respect for his cousin he would of course reveal her unfaithfulness to him. But not in the way he had. He would be sorry to have to do so. Kitty could imagine the look on the Colonel’s face if it had been him in that garden. She could imagine the tact and grace with which he would have handled the situation.

“You cannot answer that.”

“No, but I can speak against your manner. Your every action revolts. My worst crime is not what I have done but what it will allow you to do with ease!”

Snitterton smiled.

“I wish for you to leave this house,” said Kitty firmly.

“I do not think you have any power to eject me,” said Snitterton.

“Why would you even wish to come here? He cannot thank you for what you have told him. You must not know him – you must know he will not rejoice with the messenger.” Kitty paused. Darcy had told her last night that Snitterton had manipulated others. From that she had thought about his behaviour, his sly underhanded comments, his constant belittling, his suggestions. The way he looked at her at the Opera. He planted ideas and then watered them. Darcy had said he had done so with his mother, and from that Kitty could only assume that Lady Matlock had spoken to Darcy about her that time he had not told her of his aunt’s visit. Kitty wondered now that Darcy would take that time to protect her from what was clearly malicious family gossip – then when she was innocent! – she was not so now. ”Or is that why your mother visited him instead of you? You asked her – “

“My mother has known what you were since she first laid eyes on you. I did not need to ask anything of her.”

That stung. Kitty had realised Lady Matlock disapproved of her, she was hardly blind, but she had thought that was just understandable disapproval and snobbery.

“And you asked me why I have come? I have come to remonstrate with my cousin. If he would just act decisively, he could solve all his problems.”

“If he gives you money, you mean?” said Kitty.

“I have never asked for money,” said Snitterton.

“No?” said Kitty.

He faltered then and Kitty was glad her guess was right.

“Blackmail is a commoner’s sport. I merely want to see my cousin returned to his previous good reputation.”

It was plausible. She was a blight upon the Matlock family tree. A girl with no connections – neither monetary or familiar. A girl who had been essentially saved from ruin by a hasty engagement to – as far as society was concerned – the seducer. More than that a young lady who was ill equipped in every way to be Mrs Darcy. Of course a man’s family would attempt to prevent such a marriage.

But the Matlocks had done little to attempt such a thing. The Earl and his younger son seemed complacent and the Countess merely disappointed. Kitty knew that Lady Catherine de Bourgh shouted her displeasure from the country but she seemed to hold no sway over anybody. It made no sense for Snitterton to attempt to rid Darcy of her now. It would only cause even more of a scandal. It was plausible that he was concerned and that he would keep a watchful eye upon her and that is what it had seemed to have been. An outward dislike.

But Kitty had not been able to shake off a feeling of intense dislike of the Viscount; a sort of cold feeling. Adding to this, Darcy had implied last night that it was more than a mere dislike and it had to be more than a dislike of her.

Kitty eyed the man standing not two feet away from her and looked at him truly. This world she had been thrown into was so difficult to navigate. She’d found both the familiar and the foreign, although lately it was more and more the familiar as she had found that those in town were not so different in essentials than those in the country. But this was something completely alien. Although, she had always thought Snitterton a small man, tolerated only for his title and for his acquaintance who were drawn to him through obligation or something more sinister. Kitty could not help but think of Mary King who’d come into money just before Kitty was married. No one had cared two straws for Mary King until she’d been left ten thousand pounds. She could have hardly missed the sudden attention of the men and the reason why. It had hardly bothered her, perhaps because it was new and it would when the novelty had worn off, but it had bothered the other young ladies of the village. They did not see why they could not have ten thousand pounds and the men’s attention. They’d been jealous and spiteful. All sorts of things had suddenly been known and revealed about Mary King. Kitty had been so busy dreading her wedding that she was sure she only knew the half of it.

“Spreading base tales cannot return anybody to their previous good reputation.” Kitty countered, her hand slipped off the door knob as she put up her chin to step closer to the Viscount. She would not have him think her afraid, and she would not have him think her beaten.

“Perhaps not,” he replied.

Now that she was listening to it, she knew that tone. She’d often had it when she’d liked a young gentleman and he’d preferred one of her sisters. It had been stronger when that sister was Lydia. Snitterton was jealous.

He had much to be jealous of. From what he had said, no one ever paid him much attention. Darcy had said he had underestimated him and dismissed him. Kitty could easily believe that Lord Matlock and the Colonel had also done so. While Darcy would claim that he was only courted because of his position – that men like Mr Middleton admired him for reasons beyond his control – he was wrong. Kitty might think her husband an odious man half the time but that stemmed from his unwillingness to bend and learn. At the heart of it, he was a good responsible man and admired for it. Snitterton was tolerated because he must be. A stronger man would look within himself to see what it was that he could improve about himself. A petty man like Snitterton merely resented the world around him and blamed it for his own shortcomings.

Kitty did not like to compare Snitterton to herself, but she must have felt similar feelings to him – she’d felt undervalued by those around her, she’d thought petty thoughts but there the parallel ended. He’d not contained his thoughts and slowly come to self realisation and attempted to change.

“Jealousy and Revenge are true faults, are they not my lord?” asked Kitty.

He looked slightly startled. “Not when justified.”

“And how might they be justified?” Kitty almost leapt at the voice behind her. Snitterton looked more surprised than she. Kitty stepped backwards to remove herself from between the two cousins and she saw Snitterton’s eyes flick between Darcy and the door he had just revealed himself from.

“Darcy, I must say I am quite shocked! Though perhaps I should not be surprised, I had thought you much wiser than you have shown yourself to be! Of course my revelation should send any decent man to the other side of the world, but you! It sends you running – “

“I would not finish that sentence if I were you,” said Darcy in a low tone.

“What would you do if I did?”

Darcy did not answer; instead he levelled his gaze at Kitty. “Catherine, if you would be so good as to wait in your room while I see my cousin from this house.”

Kitty nodded and moved past him back to her chamber.

The door closed behind her firmly. Kitty wondered how much Darcy could have heard through the ajar door and how long he had been standing behind it. She pressed her ear against the door but could hear nothing but muffled footsteps.

When Darcy did not return for some time, Kitty cautiously made her way downstairs to find Darcy was closeted with his steward who had some urgent business. She was glad to find that he had not meant to leave her in her room as some sort of punishment.

“Kitty?”

Kitty turned to see Georgiana on the stairs. “Georgie! You are finally up!”

“Yes. I could not sleep,” she confessed.

“Are you not feeling well?” Kitty moved up the stairs so she could place a hand on the other girl’s forehead.

“Have you and my brother cried friends again?” Georgiana sounded so uncertain.

Kitty was not sure what to say to that. It would be flippant to think that she and Darcy had never been friends, for it was so important to her sister. But Kitty was not even certain that despite the communication that had occurred between her and her husband that they could be considered to be on any sort of terms. She had committed a crime and it was only in his power to forgive her for it. Even with forgiveness did not come absolution for it was certain to become public knowledge.

A door opened below them and as the steward left the house Darcy moved into the hallway and stopped short when he saw the ladies on the staircase.

“Perhaps we should ask your brother?” said Kitty, turning to look at Darcy. She hoped that being further down the staircase than Georgiana would mean that he could see her expression when his sister could not.

“Ask me what?” said Darcy, apparently trying to sound light.

“If we have cried friends?” Kitty turned to smile at Georgiana but noticed that she was silent and a little pale. Kitty did not understand it, for it was almost nothing to her if her sisters or her parents fought. It was the way of things for her. For Georgiana it appeared to mean a great deal more than that. Kitty hoped that Darcy could see that, and there was no reason he could not for he knew his sister better than her, by virtue of a longer acquaintance but also because he was so solicitous of her.

“Georgie, how could you ask such a foolish question?” said Darcy. Kitty could sense a certain tightness in his voice, but he looked as if he was in a jovial mood as he moved up the staircase towards them.

“You were so angry,” said Georgiana quietly.

“Yes, but it is forgotten now,” said Darcy firmly.

“Are you quite sure?” she asked anxiously.

“Quite forgotten,” smiled Darcy, Kitty seeing the affection he put into smoothing his sister’s hair. Georgiana did not seem convinced. “What more proof do you need than this?” he queried.

He turned to her and Kitty tried to play her part convincingly, but for a moment she could not work out precisely what he wanted her to do, then she noticed he was looking at her hand so she presented it to him. He bent over it and kissed it. Kitty of course had had her hand kissed before, but it seemed so strange for him to be the one doing so.

Kitty tried not to look shocked and plastered a smile on her face as she turned back to Georgiana, her smile almost faltered at the brother and sister’s next exchange.

“So you shall be going to the Sharps’ musical soiree tonight?”

“Of course,” replied Darcy smoothly.

Kitty blinked. She knew who was invited to the soiree and could not believe Darcy would wish her to go or that he would wish to go. Though she imagined that it must be again for appearances’ sake.

Kitty smiled at Mrs Sharp and dutifully admired Miss Sharp’s harp.

“It is a very fine harp,” said Kitty, not knowing what a not fine harp should look like.

She was surprised that Darcy had wandered away, though she supposed it would look peculiar for him to spend the evening following her about when he had never done so before. She felt far more exposed this evening than she had ever done so before.

“Do you play, Mrs Darcy?” Miss Sharp looked at her, the young lady did not seem to be saying it archly like many other young misses might do.

“Oh no, we never had a harp.” Kitty wondered if Miss Sharp would inquire about the other instruments of her household so she decided to forestall her, “and my elder sister commandeered the piano.”

Miss Sharp laughed, “I wish I had sisters who could have prevented me from learning the harp!”

“You do not enjoy it?” Kitty could not understand doing something you did not enjoy if it was not necessary.

“Not particularly. But it shall catch me a rich husband – “

Kitty must have looked slightly shocked. Of course she realised this was what young ladies came to town to do, and what her own mother attempted to do from the moment Jane was sixteen, but she had never heard it said quite as bluntly as that in London. London seemed to pretend that was not what the purpose of the Season was.

Miss Sharp had broken off in slightly confusion, “I should not be so blunt. I do not enjoy it but if I do not then I shall be on the shelf; I should not wish that.”

“No, I do not believe that would be very pleasant,” agreed Kitty.

“Do you not find it curious that the handsome men are always the most ineligible? I think Sir John MacDonald is the most handsome man, but he is quite poor. Perhaps not for a girl from the country – “ Kitty almost flinched at this but restrained herself because it was quite clear Miss Sharp meant no offence by either the reference to Sir John or to the indictment of country ladies! – “but he is not rich enough for a young lady who has come up to London. “

Miss Sharp looked thoughtful, “Your husband is handsome and rich.”

Kitty found herself nodding slightly bewildered by the turn of conversation.

“Is there something wrong with him?”

A little stung, Kitty hotly replied, “Of course there isn’t anything wrong with him!”

“Oh I have offended you,” said Miss Sharp, looking mortified, “It is just I cannot understand why Mama keeps introducing me to the most – I cannot explain it, but I have begun to fear that something must be wrong with all men!”

Kitty laughed. She was sure poor Jane, if Jane could ever own to an uncharitable thought, had considered the same thing when she was but seventeen and Mrs Bennet had paraded every single gentleman before her. Jane had been very sorry but one was too tall and one was too short, one smelt like onions. Of course the truth was that none of them had been her beloved Mr Bingley. Even then she must have been marked for him. “I am quite sure that it is merely because the perfect gentleman waits for you, he has just not revealed himself yet.”

Miss Sharp smiled, a smile which faltered a little when she saw Mrs Sharp move into the room seemingly to gather people around the harp. “Do stay, Mrs Darcy, and hear my playing.”

“It is a musical soiree! I came for no other purpose,” said Kitty in all seriousness.

Kitty found herself on a slightly distant sofa, in front of some decorative hangings. No one else joined her, either trying to sit closer or further away if they were an eligible gentleman not wishing to be caught in a honey trap. She could not see Darcy anywhere and could only assume he was avoiding the harp, which made little sense because she knew her husband appreciated music, and he could hardly fall prey to matchmaking mamas.

“Do not be alarmed, madam.”

Kitty clutched her reticle when she heard the voice from behind her. It was Sir John.

“I beg you would not look around. I do not wish to – “his disembodied voice broke off. “I merely wished to apologise to you. My actions were not those of a gentleman. But I swear I never meant you any harm. I do not regret –“ Kitty’s eyes flicked across the room but no one seemed to be paying her corner of the room the least bit of attention. Sir John continued, “I do not regret all that I should. I would not have you think the worst of me although I deserve it.”

Kitty was glad some matron had left her fan on the sofa for she could unfurl it and fan herself, hiding the fact she appeared to be speaking to herself.

“I am very sorry that we can no longer be friends, Sir John. I forgive you, but I cannot forgive myself.”

“You have nothing to charge yourself with and I do not deserve your forgiveness. A wolf in sheep’s clothes is still a wolf.”

There was a slight rustle and silence.

Kitty did not believe Sir John was a wolf in sheep’s clothes, that was Wickham; he was perhaps though a fox. But Wickham was the reason she chastised herself she had not been more discerning.

Darcy helped her into the carriage and she waited until the door was firmly closed behind him and they had set off, following the line of carriages also leaving the Sharps’.

“Sir John spoke to me.”

Darcy stiffened beside her.

“I do not think anyone saw him, although if they saw him it would have looked most peculiar he was hiding behind a curtain.”

Darcy said nothing.

“He merely wished to apologise to me,” there was still no response so Kitty continued after a breath, “I told him I regretted it but that we could no longer be friends.”

Darcy turned to look out the window of the carriage and Kitty’s heart sunk, had she not done the right thing? She had thought that it would be best not to make a scene but rather listen and talk to him and then tell Darcy about it immediately. Why could she not make the right decisions?

Then a hand closed over her own and squeezed her fingers. He was still not looking at her but she felt comforted.

Chapter Twenty-One~ Duelling

Sometimes Darcy wondered if he lived in his study. Sometimes he could go days or weeks without having to attend to business except the odd piece here or there, and then it would suddenly tumble all down on top of him. The past little while he’d had no time to spare to even consider anything else, which he was inordinately grateful for. The several days since the Sharps’ soiree had been awkward between himself and Catherine but more importantly between himself and Georgiana. But he had had so little time to consider both matters.

“Darcy, what are you doing holed up in here?”

Darcy looked up at the entrance of his favourite cousin, which considering the options probably did not say as much as it should.

“I did not think you had returned from Kent, Fitzwilliam?”

“Well both you and my father must have realised my return trip to Kent was a futile one. I may be handsome and charming but not even my address is going to stop Lady Catherine braying like a banshee. We can only be grateful that those that listen to her will not be listened to themselves. She has nothing to accuse your wife of, and nothing to accuse you of.”

Darcy tried to keep his face passive, particularly when the Colonel spoke of his aunt having no evidence.

“Why so glum, Darcy? Our Aunt’s next move I believe – in a plan worthy of a general – is to imply that you are fit for Bedlam. How a nephew bereft of his senses could help matters I do not know, but it is sure to convince everybody that she is the true patient!”

Darcy smiled. If only Lady Catherine was his only worry. “I am glad to hear it, Fitzwilliam. Not that our aunt continues in her quest and in such a foolish manner, just – “

“I know what you mean, Darcy, now what have you done to poor Sir John?”

Darcy froze for a moment and it took him a moment to risk looking the Colonel in the eye. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I asked him to accompany me here and he refused. He seems to be making a habit of refusing to come here – “

Darcy knew that tone in the Colonel’s voice. It meant that the Colonel had suspected a partiality before he left for Kent. Before that ball. It also meant he should have seen it.

Darcy could only conjure up the vision of his meeting with Sir John at his lodgings.

From it, Darcy could gather that while he had been brought up to be reserved, Sir John had been brought up to have no reserve. Each situation brought its own drawbacks and while Darcy would like to have said that it was Sir John’s openness and vigour for life that held the greater share of evil doing or cause of evil doing, Darcy could not but see that either way of life was likely to result in pain.

Sir John had assumed that Darcy would expose his misdoings and wrongs to the Colonel – I can only regret that my association with your family is to be completely at an end.

Darcy had not replied to him in the affirmative, at that moment it had seemed so incredible that there should even be an implication that Sir John might be allowed to set foot inside a Darcy or Fitzwilliam home ever again. Of course Snitterton had proved himself unworthy of that name and was unlikely to follow the family’s decision, but Darcy had stopped thinking of his cousin as family. It seemed unbelievable to Darcy that a gentleman, as Sir John purported to be, would even wish to inflict his presence upon those he had injured. Though his behaviour at the Sharp soiree perhaps meant that whatever his feelings had been on that morning, he now saw how unwise it would be to be seen in public with Catherine. Or to attempt to approach himself.

Darcy observed his cousin in front of him. When Wickham had seduced Georgiana, the Colonel had wanted to kill him. To challenge him to a duel and put a bullet in his heart or his head, whichever was harder. It was Darcy who had remonstrated with his cousin over the scandal that would cause and how it would destroy an already fragile Georgiana. Of course Darcy had felt that flush of anger and if he had had been able to lay his hands on a pistol in those moments that followed the revelation that Georgiana was almost lost to him, it might have been different but sense had been regained.

Darcy did not doubt that the Colonel would unleash his anger on Sir John. He thought of Catherine as his cousin as much as he thought of Georgiana, Fitzwilliam would think it twice an affront: both to her and to himself. It would of course be impossible for the Colonel to challenge Sir John if Darcy had not, but there were other means of settling scores.

“I am the worst kind of villain, I assure you that I will delope.” Those had been Sir John’s words. Darcy had expected it to follow with an explanation or a series of excuses. Not that Darcy had gone looking for an explanation, there could be none not to his satisfaction, and any attempt would make him think worse of Sir John. He had been thrown off balance by the fact Sir John did not attempt to explain the unexplainable. Darcy had not been appeased by this, though he knew that this was illogical since he would not have been appeased by the presence of an explanation.

Sir John had offered little excuse, except to say that he had thought his conscience clear when he had spoken to Fitzwilliam about Snitterton’s feelings. Sir John said that he regretted that immensely, and it had been at that moment that Darcy felt the weight of the Colonel’s words in his study at Pemberley.

”Fortune hunting – from what Sir John has told me, it seems he is convinced that she will cause a scandal.”

Darcy had lost his temper at that point and asked Sir John if he felt that absolved him from accountability. He could not forget the way Sir John had promptly replied that that is exactly what he had thought.

Disguise of every sort was Darcy’s abhorrence yet he seemed incapable of accepting such bald statements. Although, he was sure Sir John’s intent on only seeing guilt in the matter of his cousin and not in the very real one of kissing his wife excused his anger.

Sir John had been evasive regarding Snitterton, making Darcy piece together that puzzle – and it was one that was not yet complete – himself. At one point he accused Sir John of protecting his friend and was surprised at the vehement answer in the negative.

“Darcy?”

Darcy was shaken out of his reverie by his cousin. It was not often that his thoughts were so disordered as this and his insides warred between confessing all to a man he respected so much and who had come to his aid in any and every scrape, and keeping it from him for reasons he could not even put into words.

“I’m sorry, Fitzwilliam, my mind was elsewhere. No there is no reason that Sir John should not wish to come here.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue but it was said.

Fitzwilliam sighed heavily and moved a chair towards Darcy’s desk before sitting in it heavily. “I am very glad you said that.”

“May I inquire as to why?”

“I think there is something you should know and I am glad it is I that can tell you.”

Darcy’s stomach plummeted. He did not think he could cope with what his cousin was about to tell him. He was pleased to know that Fitzwilliam was loyal to him, but he could not sit here and listen to his cousin pity him.

“What would that be, cousin?” said Darcy carefully.

“There have been some rumours. I do not think they have long been in circulation. But you should not have heard them because I do not think anyone would dare say them to your face.”

“What rumours?” Darcy had not thought Snitterton capable of such a thing. He should not be surprised but Darcy had thought he made it clear to his cousin what he would do to him if he spoke of what happened in the garden. He knew now that Snitterton was in debt, Sir John had confirmed that at least. Snitterton would not want Lord Matlock to know and Darcy held that card up his sleeve. While he had underestimated his cousin’s spite and malice, he thought he could have relied upon his desire for self-preservation.

Of course Sir John could have said something but whatever Darcy might think of him he did not think Sir John was that. That left Lady Matlock. Darcy could not see his aunt stooping to such gossip; she would wish for it to be kept in the family. Or…someone else could have witnessed …

It was too much, Darcy’s mind was whirling.

“They are quite vague of course; accusing your wife of behaviour not befitting a married lady. Naturally there are no names or situations – “

Darcy’s head shot up as he looked penetratingly at his cousin. Luckily the Colonel seemed to be having trouble looking him in the face, otherwise he would have known immediately that this wasn’t the first he had heard of it.

“But?”

“But of course Kitty’s friendship with Sir John – “ The colonel shrugged his shoulders, “I expect he has heard the rumours because he would not come here.”

“I expect.”

“So what shall we do?”

“We shall do nothing, Fitzwilliam. I will not indulge small minded gossips. I never have and I never will.”

Fitzwilliam gave him a searching look before standing, “I think I shall go see Georgiana.”

“I know she will be glad to see you.”

Darcy waiting until the door was closed before dashing off a note that he instructed a footman to be delivered immediately and into the hand of the recipient even if he had to run him to earth a hundred miles from here. Then he dashed up the stairs.

He didn’t knock, causing Catherine’s maid Sally to give a little shriek.

“Sir! Mrs Darcy is in the bath,” she sounded scandalised, which was utterly ridiculous as far as Darcy was concerned. But it did put a slight spoke into Darcy’s wheel.

“No, no, I am not in yet,” came Catherine’s voice as she walked into the room from her dressing room. She was barefoot and clutching her dressing gown to herself.

Sally, still looking apprehensive, gave a curtsey and left the room. Darcy wondered when his servants had begun to look askance at him. When their loyalty had started to switch to his wife? He suspected it had been when he’d lost his temper, though he’d seen the looks before that. It seemed strange to him because they could not be unaware of the nature of his anger, he would have thought that would have made them detest their mistress, but clearly they did not think like that or they blamed him for any misstep his young wife took.

“I will be dining at Whites.”

She seemed to be on the verge of saying - is that all? when she recovered herself and nodded.

“I am sorry for the short notice.”

“The cook is the one you should apologise to!” said Catherine with a small smile, “And Georgiana. She will miss you at dinner.”

He knew as well as she did that the relationship between brother and sister was still not the same, and his hiding himself in his study these past few days had not helped, but Pemberley needed attention when Pemberley demanded it; he could not put it off.

He felt like explaining this to her, but it was not her he needed to explain it to.

“Enjoy your bath,” was all he said before he departed to his own room to dress.

“Darcy,” He’d not closed the door behind him when the Colonel spotted him; his cousin was coming out of the drawing room on the floor below.

“Yes?” Darcy continued down the stairs and past him.

“Where are you going and what have you done to Georgie? I rallied her about you and – “

Darcy turned his hat over in his hands and looked at his cousin. “What, Fitzwilliam?”

“Nothing.” He paused, “Is there something amiss?”

“I lost my temper and Georgie has not quite forgiven me.”

The Colonel looked disbelieving, “You never lose your temper at Georgie!”

Darcy was tempted to tell Fitzwilliam that it had not been at Georgiana, but if he knew he’d been angry with his wife he was likely to put two and two together. It hurt him but he told himself it was a lie of omission.

“Where are you going at this time?”

“I am dining at Whites. I thought I was past the age of having to have a nanny, Fitzwilliam.”

Fitzwilliam flushed slightly then laughed, “Why did you not say you were dining out tonight? I cannot dine with you for I’m expected to dine at Barracks.”

Darcy laughed at his cousin, “A far more exciting meal than one with me is likely to be.”

“I shall walk you,” said Fitzwilliam, opening the door for Darcy to pass through, “And you might not have a Nanny but you have a wife, is that not the same thing?”

Darcy did not answer, instead strode into the cool of the night.

Darcy was glad that while he was an infrequent guest at societal events, at least in comparison to many others, that he had at least frequented his club enough so that they knew his usual table. It was one that was in a quiet part of the club and where one was unlikely to be disturbed or overheard.

The level of conversation as he walked through the club to be seated rose and fell as he had expected it to, if he was the subject of gossip it was bound to be so. It was also only going to get worse when his diner companion joined him.

Darcy could tell by the sudden louder buzzing of his male ton companions when that man had arrived. He looked up to see Sir John weaving through the tables looking completely unflappable. Darcy wondered where Sir John got his composure, or his ability to look serene and open when he must know what was being said – or perhaps he merely had no conscience or feeling, which meant that Darcy was playing a dangerous game.

Sir John effortlessly slid into his seat, ordering wine for the table from the nearest waiter as he did so.

“You do not think I ordered wine already?”

“Have you done so?” said Sir John surprised.

“No,” said Darcy shortly.

Sir John smiled, “I did not think you would have.”

“Do not flatter yourself that you have a grasp of my character.”

“I don’t believe many get to do that, Darcy. But tell me do you not think you dining with me tonight is going to give rise to speculation?”

“I hope it will damper speculation,” said Darcy, “otherwise I would not be here.”

“You do not think it will look as if you condone, shall we say, certain goings on”

“I do not believe that anyone would think that,” said Darcy.

“But you have just said that I who has been a member of your close circle, and an inmate of your household for a period of time can have no understanding of your character – “ the wine arrived and conversation had to be ceased, not that Darcy felt able to respond to that. His equilibrium had been disturbed. He had thought that he would be in control of this dinner but the older man seemed at home like he had been in any other situation.

“Let us not argue,” said Sir John, “I do believe that the impression you wish to give is the one that will be taken.”

“Very well. I think then we should confine ourselves to areas of innocuous conversation.”

Sir John laughed. “You think there can be innocuous conversation between a man who is not sorry he kissed another man’s wife, and that man?”

Darcy attempted not to flush.

“There, I did not think you were so composed. You shall be happy to know I shall be retiring to Scotland for a while.” Sir John affably topped up Darcy’s glass as he spoke.

“You do not think that will give an impression?” said, Darcy trying to keep his voice even.

“I expect something will occur that will divert everyone’s attentions; it is London after all and the Season is not over.”

The waiter at this point asked for their orders and Darcy could only think what a fool he had been to embark on this course of action. He should have told his cousin. After the waiter had left, he found Sir John eyeing him speculatively.

“I wonder what you will do with a bit of information if I give it to you.”

Darcy was not in the mood to play games and he said so, flexing his fingers around the glass in his hand, hoping that no observer could see the tension displayed there.

“I am not playing any game; I wish to know what you would do.”

“It depends on the information. You flatter yourself that you know me. You also know that I could have called you out and I did not.”

“Indeed, but I also know you are a man with a very pretty and lovely wife. A young lady who deserves to be treasured and you look constantly as if you were being led to the gallows.”

“You think I did not challenge you because I do not care for my wife?”

“I do not know, Darcy. I suspect you do not know either. “

Darcy could not answer that, “It is quite ridiculous that I should even consider saying this, but you shall have to trust that I will do with the information what a gentleman would.”

“Touché,” replied Sir John. “But I see our meal arrives. We should eat.”

Darcy had never had a more tough steak in his life; it was like every bite was sinking into his stomach. It only allowed him time to muse on his situation and the man sitting opposite him.

A man with a moral code so diametrically opposed to his own. Sir John did not regret his actions, he merely regretted being discovered and causing scandal that might hurt those he apparently did care about. Darcy could not understand giving into fruitless impulses. He never had. Of course he did not mean he had never collapsed under the weight of desire for something his head knew was wrong or impossible, just that he had justly chastised himself for such irrationality. Then again did Sir John think it was a fruitless impulse? He could not ask. It would be beneath him to utter the words to discover that if Sir John’s perfidy had not been discovered whether he would have continued with it.

“Did you wish to ask me something, Darcy,” said Sir John pouring more wine as he spoke.

“No.”

“I thought that disguise of every sort was your abhorrence?”

Darcy silently cursed Fitzwilliam who had more than likely shared that with his friend over a bottle of wine.

“Come Darcy, I suspect I do know what you wish to ask me. The answer is no.”

Darcy set aside his glass for the moment, “I would not have suspected.”

“Not for any fundamental virtue of character, but because I should not have been successful. Although I should not take that as an invitation to continue on your current path. Time can change all, after all.”

Darcy felt an urge to reach over the table to strangle the other man; it was an urge he tried to suppress when Sir John didn’t continue the conversation he’d abandoned before dinner had arrived and instead suggested they order some dessert.

“What is this information?” Darcy clutched his glass of wine once more, as Sir John called for yet another bottle.

“After I sent that letter to you, I received a visitor, who quite understandably did not wish me to place blame upon myself for what happened in the garden. I am sure you know of whom I speak. He was made so inordinately joyful by the circumstances that he told me something I am not sure he meant to tell me. If I had known at the beginning what he told me then, I would not have believed that my conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam was enough to absolve me of any guilt regarding the Viscount’s actions. I did not know whether he was speaking the truth or not so I did not tell you about it when you called.”

Darcy was leaning forward now.

“I am an open man. It has led me into trouble before and I’m sure it will do so again, but I meant no one any harm. I misjudged your cousin, as I believe so did you. I will offer no excuses. I did not act when I should have acted.”

Darcy snorted and muttered that he rather thought the problem lay that Sir John acted when he should not have done so.

The other man laughed, “Perhaps.”

“This is not very informative,” replied Darcy.

“Then I suggest you look in the betting book at Whites.”

Darcy flicked his eyes towards the door of this room, in the direction of where that book lay even though it could not be seen from where they sat.

“Why would I wish to do that?”

Sir John merely gave him a date and page reference. “I think you will find that informative. I think you know that this talk – “ Sir John made a gesture that took in their surrounds – “was inevitable with or without me, but if you cannot figure out why, perusing the book will explain it to you.”

Sir John downed the last of his wine, wiped his mouth with his napkin and threw it down on the table as he stood up. He stopped by Darcy’s chair.

“Where I have wronged I do make amends. Do remember that and try not to do anything stupid. Although I am an excellent shot and it would be ironic if I were your second.”

On that cryptic note, Sir John departed.

Darcy subtly asked to see the betting book, and turned to the page that Sir John had suggested and made sure the dates tallied.

There it was in black and white, couched in the vaguest terms of course as such improper bets were made:

That a certain new bride will cuckold her new lord and master within a six month

It took the marks of the bettors for Darcy to be certain. Then he looked at the odds and the amounts staked (what he would gain), and then he looked at the date. It was before Snitterton had ever met Catherine. Darcy’s blood boiled.

It had not subsided by the time he arrived back at the townhouse even though he had walked. He could not stop turning it over and over in his head.

The townhouse was dark, with only the barest candles lit for his return, another sign of disapproval from the servants no doubt. Darcy stumbled up the stairs, blaming the poor lighting but wondering if he had had too much wine at dinner.

He only had one thought in his head. He had to find his duelling pistols and then he was going to find his cousin.

Posted on Thursday, 14 June 2007

Chapter Twenty-Two~ Things That Go Bump in the Night

Kitty was staring at her book. She had not turned a page in the last ten minutes, she was sure. Dinner with Georgiana had been slightly stilted as their interactions had been over the last days.

From her end Kitty was conscious of Georgiana feeling outraged on her behalf, when Kitty had no right to expect such support. From Georgiana’s Kitty could only assume that her sister felt unable to intercede and comment on the relationship between Darcy and herself. Kitty had never minded commenting on her sisters' flirtations, but she knew that marriage was very different from a flirtation and that Georgiana’s temperament was far more reserved than her own.

It had been a relief though not to have Darcy at dinner; the tension between the siblings was almost too much to bear. Clearly the two had never had such a feeling exist between them, and Kitty herself knew how appalling her husband was at communicating. But Kitty was at a loss to see what she could do beyond what she had already done, apparently it was only time that could heal the situation.

She wished it could be only time that was needed to resolve her own situation. She had not cried off from all of her invitations and had felt a churning sensation when she thought of whom she might meet and what they might say. It had all passed off all right, but she had been angry at herself for putting herself in this situation, and then she had felt angry at Sir John. She had used to look forward to his support and now she dreaded even meeting him!

She could not help but think of Miss Smith and Reginald Bower once more; she had thought it perhaps most unfair (though how stupid of Miss Smith to like such an ugly fellow) that Reginald Bower should receive so little of the blame. Yet now here she was doing the same thing; she could only think it was because she knew that her thoughts and actions had not been the correct ones. They had not been the thoughts that a married lady should have and she did not precisely regret them. Of course it should not have happened but …

Kitty’s musings were interrupted by a crash in the room behind her. She jumped and whirled around, even though she was unlikely to be able to see through walls.

Had burglars managed to break into the house? Kitty wondered if it was her duty to interrupt them. After all they were sure to come into her chamber after they realised that they had only entered the master’s chamber. She had jewellery and other items worth stealing in here, she did not know what could be next door.

Kitty grabbed the candle from beside her bed and cautiously opened the door adjoining the two chambers, ready to run if the worst should be revealed. As she opened it she heard a familiar voice, and sighed with relief. It was only Darcy. He must have tripped over something in the dark. She could leave him her candle to rectify that.

He was nowhere near his bed, which Kitty found strange; even in the dark he could not have forgotten the layout of his own room. Stranger still, and what made her gasp, was the language he was indulging in.

He looked around when he heard her. “Go back to bed.”

“What are you doing?” Kitty crossed the room when she realised he was fumbling with a case. Whatever could be so important that it had to be found in the middle of the night?

“Finding my pistols,” was his response. He had clearly opened the case as upon that reply he had turned towards her holding one of the said pistols.

Did he intend to shoot her? That was Kitty’s first thought and her alarm must have shown on her face. Or perhaps she was giving him too much credit, her frightened shriek must have told the story well enough.

“I’m not going to shoot you”, said Darcy in some disgust.

“Who are you going to shoot?” Kitty thought it was unlikely he could shoot anyone at night anyway. Unless he was going to do it indoors, after the candles had been lit.

“I’m going to shoot my cousin.”

Kitty decided it was not the time to be flippant and ask which cousin this was precisely. She had met two cousins and she knew he had a third in Anne de Bourgh. No, he could only mean Snitterton.

“Why are you going to shoot your cousin?”

“Don’t you think that’s a foolish question?”

It was perhaps but Kitty decided to phrase it another way, “I meant why are you going to shoot your cousin now? Have you not have provocation before now?”

Darcy was looking in the open case and did not appear to be listening.

“You cannot shoot your cousin. You would have to flee the country or stand trial for murder – are you listening to me, Darcy?”

“I think I know the consequences better than you,” was his reply.

Kitty was bewildered. What on earth had happened? She did not know who he had dined with – perhaps they had seen Snitterton at the club and he had been rude. Why would this surprise Darcy? Snitterton’s customary manner was rude!

“Has something happened? Whom did you dine with?”

“I dined with your lovely Sir John.”

That made Kitty blink – dine with Sir John? It seemed ridiculous. But what could have Sir John said to make Darcy wish to kill Snitterton? She had begun to think that perhaps this was not all her making and this only confirmed it which made her heart ache. To be so deceived! Was he playing a game?

Darcy loaded the pistol. He could not walk around London with a loaded pistol! It was the height of stupidity. Kitty had put down the candle and was beginning to see, as her eyes grew used to the light, that the reason Darcy was acting so completely peculiar was perhaps because he was not quite himself. Had Sir John purposely got him drunk and then turned him loose on an unsuspecting world?

“I cannot think you would believe anything he would say,” said Kitty, carefully keeping her eyes on the pistol.

“Oh I do not believe many words he says, but I am afraid this is incontrovertible.”

He could not be too foxed if he managed to say a word with so many syllables without stumbling; she could talk him around. It was the last thing Georgiana needed – a brother indicted for duelling!

“But a duel? You told me yourself the pointlessness of them!”

“Did I say I was going to duel with Snit?”

Kitty did not respond to this and did not have to; the door suddenly flung open and Edwards stood there with his blunderbluss and Robert behind him lighting the way. More weaponry! Was Kitty’s first thought. Darcy had his back to the door, and his body hid the pistol he held in his hand from the servants gaze. He had turned his attention to the servants’ so Kitty took her chance to snatch the pistol, return it to its case and shove the case back into the dresser. It had only been the work of a moment and she was sure Edwards and Robert behind him could have only seen a quick flurry of movement.

“I apologise, Sir. We heard noises.”

“Well there were not any candles left out for my return,” said Darcy rather haughtily.

“I am sorry sir. I shall speak to those responsible,” said Edwards, who then eyed Kitty. Kitty could feel her face flushing under his gaze.

“What is it?” Darcy sounded annoyed.

“Would you like me to help you undress, sir?”

“No, no, just go back to bed,” said Darcy. Kitty wished that Edwards would ignore him and stay anyway.

“Of course, sir, I apologise again for the interruption.” With that both Robert and Edwards closed the door behind them.

Kitty felt like laughing. They had not interrupted what they thought they were interrupting. They were interrupting their half-sprung master’s attempts at murder!

“Catherine, stop being silly and move away from there,” said Darcy.

“I’m being silly? You wish to shoot your cousin and you will not even explain why!”

Darcy would not respond.

“Do not be so stupid!”

“Strange. Sir John said that to me as well, I wonder why anyone would think that I would do anything stupid” Darcy sounded irritated.

Kitty was even more lost. Sir John had told him not to do anything stupid? Just how long a conversation had they had and just how much wine had they consumed? Kitty did not voice any of this but rather just looked at her husband, who finally relented into answering.

“He made a bet.” Darcy could only mean Snitterton.

“Like Mr Lewis and scraping of the carriage wheels?” Kitty knew men were very serious about their bets but this was surely an overreaction.

“That is not the only subject men bet on.”

He could not mean what she thought he meant, Kitty felt slightly ill – “A bet about me?”

Darcy merely nodded.

“But if he has been trying to – then he cheated as well!”

Darcy laughed. She had not heard him laugh very often and this was a very different laugh. She knew from experience that men were different when they were bosky, but she had not realised their voices could change as well.

“That is an interesting focus to place upon it. I would have been more concerned about the impugnation on my virtue, “said Darcy, almost mockingly.

“Well I have already proved him right about that!” retorted Kitty.

Darcy scowled and moved to reach around her and wrench the dresser drawer handle open. He was tall enough to do so without so much as touching Kitty, but in the process she still lost her balance.

Darcy had a choice to make between his pistols and his wife. Kitty was so very grateful that at that point he chose her.

“You are unhurt?”

Kitty caught her breath and her footing, although he still had such a hold on her that she could have fainted dead away and not fallen to the floor if she so chose. She nodded quietly and expected him to release her.

But he was looking at her quite oddly. Searchingly even, and Kitty felt as if she was being examined. He brought his free hand up to move her hair away from her face. She had tied her hair up before going to bed, but she’d always found it would come loose by morning and running around in the middle of the night had made it loosen itself much earlier.

“Pretty and lovely,” he said quietly, with his hand still to her face, which to Kitty’s ears did not seem like words he would ever say. Well perhaps lovely, but pretty? Was that a word he would use? He was still looking at her intently and Kitty felt her heart thudding painfully in her chest. She had a sudden thought that he was going to kiss her.

This thought was replaced by a sudden memory, one where she was being equally held in a vice like grip. The smell of wine that invaded her senses at this moment made it all the more real.

With a gasp she shoved with all her might and released herself, stumbling backwards.

Kitty trembled, and could only bear to look up for a moment. And a moment was all it took to see the anger both in his stance and his face. He was angry with her, because how could he know that – she could not even think it again.

“I – I – I am sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” he said in a brutal tone.

“Wickham,” she could only whisper. That threw him she could tell. “The wine and … “

There was a pause and Kitty still could not move or look up. “Go to bed.”

That did make her look up because how could he be left here when only moments before he seemed intent on ending someone’s existence? She wanted to question him about that, but his body language now, which seemed a great deal more defeated than it had moments before, told her that her queries would not be welcomed.

She ran past him and closed the door behind herself before dissolving into quiet tears. She had thought that she had recovered, and would be unaffected. She had not …

Kitty could not think for some time, but slowly she recovered hugging her pillow to her chest.

Breathing deeply, she could not but suddenly think that she had misread the situation and that Darcy was not intending to sleep but was still intending to go searching for his cousin. Although she did not know what the use of knowing would be – for by this time he must be long gone if he had gone – she had to know.

She opened the door between the chambers once more and crept in; the candle was doused but the curtains had not been fully drawn and the moonlight allowed her to see that Darcy had in fact decided to sleep on his anger.

She was about to creep back out again when he turned over in his sleep. Kitty froze, she was not sure what the consequence of being caught here would be but she did not think he would appreciate her checking upon him. Except he was apparently not asleep because he had opened his eyes to look at her and then threw his arm over them, muttering something about Fitzwilliam being right about nannies.

Kitty moved out of the room wondering if he had been awake or talking in his sleep like Lydia sometimes did.

“Do you not wish to come to visit Miss Gable with me?” said Georgiana brightly over the breakfast table.

Kitty had not, in the end, managed to sleep a great deal, and the thought of several young ladies all talking about how they longed to be out, and asking her all manner of questions did not appeal. It was better that Georgiana go and visit her school friends on her own, then she could be the expert of the party; for apart from Miss Dears who apparently was becoming too grand to associate with her old friends, none of her friends had such obliging elder sisters as apparently she was to Georgiana. Kitty did not think she was very obliging in telling Georgiana all the gossip and fashion, but apparently if she only told a little the others told none at all.

“I am very sorry not to, Georgie, but Lizzy and Jane are to come to me today. They shall go back to Longbourn soon to prepare for the wedding.”

“Oh, yes. We shall be attending the wedding, shall we not?”

Kitty had no idea, she had not even thought about it. She had assumed that they would but it was not her decision. “I expect you will have to ask your brother.”

“But Jane is your sister, of course you must be there. Fitzwilliam would never …“ Georgiana paused and suddenly looked upset and Kitty regretted saying anything at all.

“I was just being silly. I did not get enough sleep last night,” said Kitty airily before considering what her words might imply to Georgiana, “because of course your brother fell over that trunk.” She finished lamely.

“I do not understand why there were no candles, and my brother usually can see in the dark. Was he not well?”

Kitty wondered how Georgiana could be quite so naïve.

“Yes, he was most unwell,” she almost added, something to do with the wine but even Georgiana could not have missed that implication!

Apparently a great deal of wine, Kitty thought since he had not been down to breakfast but on asking if they should keep some of the spread aside the footman confided in her that Mr Darcy had gone riding quite early that morning. Kitty squashed the desire to run upstairs to see if he’d taken his pistols. No, once he was in his right mind she could not believe he would do such a thing.

Georgiana had tripped off to see her friends and Kitty attempted to continue her embroidery. She’d brought down her fashion magazines and some material she had recently purchased so Jane and Lizzy could take them back to Longbourn with them.

Jane hardly needed another stitch but they knew their mother; if she could not have some say over what her dear Jane would wear she would go mad, and inflict said madness on the household.

Kitty was glad Jane was marrying Charles, not only because it would make both of them so happy but because it also had allowed her a good reason to decline those invitations that she had not felt up to attending. It had been so easy to say that she must help with the preparations. It was not a complete lie. She had been to several emporiums with her sisters and visited twice with her aunt to aid discussions.

They’d even run into Mr Devinsham at one of the emporiums buying gloves for himself. Kitty had not thought him at all a rude man, yet Lizzy could not help censure him (once, of course, they had parted company) for his abominable vanity. Kitty did not understand her sister most of the time.

After stabbing herself with the needle at least twice, Kitty realised she could not embroider and think at the same time. It was just not a possibility. So she packed it away and wondered how else to idle away her time between now and when her sisters arrived.

She did not have much time to think on this because she received a visitor in the form of Darcy.

He looked fresh from his ride and Kitty wondered if he expected to find his sister here. She also wondered if it was just her who felt the attendant awkwardness. She expected it was. Darcy began to pace about the room and Kitty watched him in some hesitation.

“My actions were unforgivable,” Darcy had moved to the window looking down into the street before looking back towards her. “It was not the behaviour of a gentleman and I cannot forgive myself for it.”

Kitty was surprised by the vehemence of his apology, an apology she hardly expected.

“To present myself to anyone in the condition that – “he broke off, “I can only offer in my defence… I cannot offer any defence. It was cruel and unthinking.”

Kitty twisted her hands in her lap before speaking. “You need no forgiveness.”

This brought him towards her side of the room, and then to her side. He sat beside her on the sofa and, noticing her trembling hands, put his hand over hers. “You are too gracious. But I do need to beg your pardon, not just for my behaviour last night but for – “

Kitty felt wretched. It had been her weakness! She did not realise that it was not just her hands trembling until he put his arm around her, pulling her towards him.

“You must know that you are safe in my house. You must know that you are safe with me.”

Kitty did know, but last night it hadn’t been him she was frightened of, not really. She tried to say as much but it was muffled by both her inability to speak and Darcy’s lapels.

“It does not matter; it was unconscionable of me.”

“You are not only to blame. I should not have – “ Kitty could not finish that sentence. “If you need forgiveness than I do not know what I need.”

“Others are far more culpable than you,” was Darcy’s quiet reply.

“If I forgive you, will you – “ Kitty did not know how to ask what she wanted to ask.

Darcy had her hand in his, and he leant back from her for a moment to bring that hand upwards. Kitty glanced up, not sure what he was doing. He looked her in the eye. “It is already done.”

Kitty let a sigh go that she did not know that she was holding, and watched him place a chaste kiss on her inner wrist before dropping her hand. “Perhaps we should start afresh,” he said quietly, moving his hand to stroke her cheek.

“Without shooting anyone?” said Kitty almost archly.

Darcy gave a short laugh before enveloping her into a tighter hug, and Kitty felt him bestow a kiss on her forehead. She felt comforted and happier than she had in quite some time.

This comfort was shattered when the door opened and Lizzy and Jane were admitted. Kitty turned rapidly as Darcy sprung away from her, and almost laughed at the pole-axed expression on Lizzy’s face. Darcy on the other hand looked embarrassed.

Such a reserved man could only be embarrassed by being caught in such a position thought Kitty as she watched her husband bow hurriedly and almost flee the room.

Jane appeared not to have noticed anything untoward, being as she was behind Lizzy and blind to anything that did not have to do with her wedding. So Jane was able to carry on the conversation until it seemed to Kitty that Lizzy and herself had recovered from their respective shocks.

“Do you think it would be possible, Kitty?”

Kitty had missed what Jane had just said and blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I was thinking how lovely it would be if you could come to Netherfield before the wedding. Of course you will be there for the day, but I think Charles would need Mr Darcy’s support before then, and I would want you there.”

Kitty smiled, but inwardly she could only wonder what it would be like for either her or Darcy to return to the scene of their misfortune.

Posted on Thursday, 21 June 2007

Chapter Twenty-Three~ Vengeance

“Do you not think so?”

Darcy stared at his friend uncomprehendingly. He was seated in Whites where he had run most opportunely into Bingley. Opportune for his friend who seemed to wish to speak to him, and opportune for Darcy because Darcy wished to be able to while away some time without looking peculiar. Burning a hole in his inside pocket was a note from Lord Matlock summoning him to the Matlock townhouse in the afternoon.

Darcy had not thought he could keep his composure at home so had braved the gentleman’s club. He would rather look a fool there than alarm anybody at home. His greatest fear was that Lord Matlock had heard the rumours.

Darcy had done his best to scotch these rumours by his actions. The source of the rumours was more difficult. His cousin had seemed to completely go to ground. He was never ‘at home’ and his servants seemed completely unable to furnish Darcy with either his whereabouts or when he might be home. Darcy was loath to try and run him to ground himself, because if it looked as though he was stalking someone to ground, the wrong impression might be given.

He was sure those at Mantons had thought Darcy imagined an entirely different fellow than the one he had done when Darcy had in frustration gone to the shooting gallery. Not that they would be entirely incorrect, Darcy had imagined Sir John during a few rounds of firing. It had been satisfying in a hollow sort of way to release his anger on the drawn targets, particularly since he was denied his cousin and Sir John had not gone to Scotland.

Darcy was in no mood to discover why that gentleman had not kept his word, it was enough that he had not!

But before he could consider the baronet, he must face his uncle. Surely Snitterton could not have been so stupid as to acquaint his father with the rumours that he himself had spread? Lord Matlock was the best of noblemen and was in no way mentally deficient. No, Lord Maltock had to have heard the rumours from other quarters and Darcy feared he faced an interrogation he was not sure he was prepared for.

Darcy became aware that Bingley was staring at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry?”

“The settlements, Darcy!”

“I can read them later,” said Darcy dismissively.

“When later? We depart shortly for Longbourn.”

“Tomorrow, Bingley, or the next day. There is plenty of time.”

Darcy shook his head. As his nuptials approached, Charles Bingley was becoming more and more nervous. Darcy would have thought he would become more animated and impatient, since he was marrying a lady he loved more, he claimed, than life itself. But there it was, Bingley was apprehensive and jittery.

He’d been fussing over the settlements to be made over his wedding for nigh on a week, and Darcy could only be glad that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth had departed for Longbourn first. Mrs Bennet would be sure to take one look at Bingley and fear he was wishing to cry off!

Darcy knew Bingley did not wish to do any such thing, but his whole demeanour spoke of his internal distress of fearing that he was doing the wrong thing. Not in marrying Miss Bennet, but in the manner of doing so, in the way he would provide for her, whether he could provide for her.

Darcy could only hope that he would calm down on the carriage journey to Hertfordshire. Georgiana was not to go with them, Darcy having encouraged her to keep a prior engagement with a school friend. She would join them later before the wedding, but this way Darcy was sure the whispering and comments that were sure to occur with his return to the neighbourhood would have died down.

Darcy wished he had not his own problems to attend to so that he could focus solely on soothing his friend. Bingley had no reason to worry; Mr Gardiner was attending to the drawing up of the settlements and Darcy had no reason to doubt his ability. Mr Bennet, if Darcy correctly surmised his character, would no doubt only give the settlements a cursory glance. Mrs Bennet would only see the 5000 pounds per annum and Miss Bennet would not care a jot. No doubt she would not even understand the settlements made upon her. It was not a subject many men spoke to young ladies about.

“I can read it in the carriage, if it worries you that much Bingley.”

Bingley did not look appeased by this offer, rather he looked appalled. If Darcy was in a lighter mood the look on his friend’s face would have given him a great deal of amusement. He looked for all the world like Darcy had kicked his puppy.

At this point Darcy noticed the sort of furtive groupings around the clubroom that denoted a fresh on-dit. He hoped it was something to divert attention from the rumours attending his marriage; but he could not deny that knowing his current circumstances it was probably some fresh attack upon his family and his heart sank.

“Do you think this is enough of an allowance?”

Darcy blinked at the paper thrust under his nose.

“I hardly know, Bingley! You should be able to judge yourself what you can best afford and what Miss Bennet is likely to need!”

Bingley looked hurt and Darcy realised that he should not inflict his temper upon the other man. Bingley needed advice and reassurance and that is what had attracted them to each other at Cambridge. Darcy enjoyed giving advice and Bingley enjoyed receiving it and, to be fair to Bingley, marriage was not a step he had taken before thus the prior knowledge he could obtain without advice was slim.

“But I will say this, Bingley, if she is anything like her sister she will not need half that amount.” Darcy offered his friend a smile and hoped that he was forgiven.

Darcy walked up the street towards his uncle’s townhouse and almost ran into Sir John on the footpath.

Sir John made an exaggerated bow and doffed his hat. Darcy stiffly returned the greeting. He expected Sir John to pass him and continue up the street, but instead the baronet stood still as if he expected some conversation as if they were any two acquaintances who met in the street. Darcy stonily did not reply and wondered if there was any etiquette he should employ when abruptly turning to walk up the stairs. Of course Sir John would put him in this position in public.

“You do not think we should have some conversation, Darcy? Perhaps I could ask after your lovely wife?”

Darcy reddened, “Do you take delight in vexing me?”

Sir John laughed, “Of course. I quite treasure your wife’s, your cousin’s, your sister’s and your friend’s friendship. I mean that quite sincerely. You however, I am afraid to say I think you a fool.”

Darcy knew he should not ask why. Sir John’s opinion meant nothing to him after all, but he could not help the question spilling out, although he assured the other man of the worthlessness of his opinion.

“Darcy, therein you have answered your own question!” replied Sir John.

Darcy stiffened further, if that was at all possible, and made a slight bow to Sir John, who returned it with a flourish.

He expected them for them to part, and for it not to be a good preface to what Darcy knew was going to be a trying conversation with his Uncle. Except he found their feet taking the same path up the Matlock stairs. Darcy stopped short, grabbing Sir John’s arm to prevent his further motion at the same time.

“Is something wrong, Darcy?” said Sir John with ease.

“Have you been summoned by my uncle or is this a mere social call? If it is a social call, I beg you call some other time!”

Sir John smiled, “No, I assure you I have been summoned.”

Darcy could not believe it. If his uncle had heard the rumours he would not ask the man in question to visit him at the same time, would he? Unless his uncle thought that it would dispel gossip!

“Was there something else, Darcy, or do you just enjoy ruining coats?” Sir John looked significantly at Darcy’s hand which was still digging into his coat. Darcy dropped his hand rapidly.

“No, nothing. After you, Sir John.”

“Oh no, after you,” said Sir John.

Darcy felt they could stand on the stoop being falsely polite to each other or he could just knock.

Darcy had always looked up to his uncle as the epitome of breeding, good manners and other manly arts. Of course his father was held an equal position in Darcy’s view, but an uncle was far enough removed for a young man not to feel that chafing that might occur when a father handed down an edict.

Now Darcy wished Lord Matlock didn’t adhere to societal niceties. Sitting in his study as Lord Matlock offered everyone – Darcy had been unsurprised to find Colonel Fitzwilliam there – drinks. Darcy did not think for one moment the Colonel had spoken to his father about the rumours. Lord Matlock also inquired after family and friends. Darcy willed him to get to the point and wished he had accepted the proffered glass merely so he could have something with which to distract his mind.

“I am deeply saddened by the reason I called you to wait upon me today. It is so serious an event that I could not but ask you as members of my family to be here today.” Darcy took in the absence of Snitterton and stared at Sir John - family? “Of course Sir John is here as a friend,” concluded his uncle to Darcy’s relief.

His relief was short-lived when Lord Matlock turned to him, “I must ask you, nephew, is the information Sir John has brought to me correct?”

Lord Matlock seemed to think that no other explanation of what information was necessary and Darcy thought asking for a clarification might mean his uncle started to wonder what other scandal was about to be brought down around his ears. Darcy flicked his eyes to Sir John who was looking at him expectantly. He had to make a split decision based on his willingness to trust in Sir John’s character no matter his behaviour to himself.

“Yes, I am afraid it is, Uncle.”

Lord Matlock took several paces so that he could lay his hands upon his desk, where his hands clenched and unclenched. “That I could countenance such a member of this family!” For a horrific moment Darcy thought he had answered incorrectly and leant forward determined to defend his wife, then his uncle continued “That my own flesh and blood, that my heir, would stoop so low!”

“I am just sorry, sir, that my admiration of Mrs Darcy could lead to such an end,” said Sir John.

Lord Matlock looked up and shook his head. “No such admiration when well placed is ever to be regretted. An innocent admiration brought low by baseless accusations and gossip mongering.”

Darcy was pleased to see the almost flinch Sir John gave when his uncle mentioned the word innocent. Lord Matlock did not notice as he was now addressing his other son, who looked overwhelmed by the situation.

“I guess you have little idea of what we speak, Richard?”

“No, sir, I do not!” replied the Colonel.

Darcy let Lord Matlock’s explanation to his son wash over himself. The story was almost identical to the truth, down to the bet. The only aberration was the scene in the garden.

“And there is no basis for these rumours?” asked the Colonel whose eyes had sharpened upon Darcy.

Lord Matlock looked shocked his son would ask such a thing.

“Do you think my pride would allow me to sit here if they were, Richard?” said Darcy calmly.

The colonel nodded. “I knew my brother lived outside of his income but to need money so desperately as to make such a bet– “

Sir John nodded. “The difference between your brother and myself is that he may draw upon his expectancies. It is not only mere bills he must pay back, and I am afraid his manner has offended a great many of his creditors so they are not willing to wait for – I beg your pardon, my lord – the inevitable.”

Lord Matlock nodded. “I thank you, Sir John. But I must now beg your indulgence in my desire to see this matter resolved within my family circle.”

Sir John bowed, “I understand but I fear that circumstances may have overtaken you, my lord. I have just come from Whites – “

Darcy’s head shot up at this lie. He had just been at Whites. Sir John had certainly not been there, he had come to the townhouse from the completely wrong direction.

“I believe your son was playing cards last night. I am afraid I do not know the particulars although I am to gather it was some disreputable hell…”

Sir John was cut off by the Earl’s sigh. “My son is not of an age where I can dismiss such actions. He is not a young boy looking to sow his oats and run on a spree.”

“I am afraid that is not the whole story,” said Sir John.

“I am loath to ask.”

“Lord Snitterton cheated at cards last night. Of course I have only heard this second hand at Whites but the source I do not doubt.”

Darcy thought of the gossiping groups at Whites. If this was true, it would ruin his cousin. Gaming, although seemingly dishonourable, was where honour was held to be the highest. One paid one’s gambling debts before one paid the grocer. One did not play if one could not pay. To cheat was a step that society would not tolerate. Darcy did not disbelieve the fact that Snitterton was capable of cheating; Catherine had been right when she had said that making that bet and then spreading the rumours himself had been cheating. Although being caught at that was far less serious than being caught cheating at cards. But the fact Sir John lied about the circumstances in which he had discovered the Viscount’s crime gave Darcy pause for thought.

He let both his cousin and his uncle’s exclamations wash over him and tried to examine the baronet.

The conversation in the room was interrupted by a footman who had come to announce Lord Snitterton.

“I will see him in another room. I do not wish to inflict his presence on you, my boy,” said Lord Matlock to Darcy. “I hold no hope that my son will admit to his crimes but -“ The earl broke off in some anxiety.

“I have no hope for that either, my lord,” said Sir John. “I feel sure he will deny it.”

His uncle left the room and the Colonel dithered for some moments before following his father.

Darcy was on his feet and across the room in seconds. “Of course he will deny it For he has not done it! I do not know what you have done but you have ruined my cousin!”

Sir John shook his head, “Do you know why Snitterton’s debts are so pressing?” At Darcy’s lack of response Sir John continued, “No, I did not think so. A large sum was paid to a certain feckless younger son of a peer of the realm. This young man caught your cousin cheating at piquet. However your cousin forgot that in such cases often one sum of money is not enough.”

Darcy shook his head, “You knew this and you knew of his plan to – “

“No. I did not know of the bet. I thought he was just venting his spleen. What gratification he could get from spreading such lies; I did not think it was monetary. If I had known it was then I would have realised how much was at stake.”

“Venting his spleen or not – “

“Who would have believed him if you acted as you should?”

Darcy tried to restrain himself. “No one would have believed him, as no one believes my aunt and her ravings from Kent, if you have not acted as you did!”

“You would have preferred your wife shunned? Interesting, Darcy, very interesting!”

“I will not deign to respond to that. You feel no shame in what you did?”

“Do you refer to the garden or your cousin?”

“Both.”

“My sense of regret is deep in one, though not in the way you think I should regret, and not at all in the other.”

“Even though you have caused my uncle and Fitzwilliam pain?”

“I?” said Sir John. “As the messenger, I grant you, but your cousin made his own way and he sought to manipulate me, I cannot forgive that.”

“You mean you cannot forgive that he did not manipulate you. So you cannot absolve yourself of blame.”

“And you wish to absolve yourself by defending a man I am entirely sure you have wished to kill? You think that makes you noble, Darcy?”

Darcy stood stock still.

“It would make you noble if you truly meant it! But you use it to pretend to yourself you are virtuous, holding yourself in judgement of all others, seeing no fault within yourself but that can be blamed on others. You would be better to give in to your desires –“

Sir John could not continue his speech as Darcy was incapable of restraining himself from punching him cleanly in the face.

Sir John brought his head back to face Darcy, fingers examining his split lip, he laughed. “Better Darcy, better. I am sorry that I have caused your family pain, but I feel it was only a matter of time where your cousin is concerned, and I would rather protect the truly innocent than wait for a time where the circumstances were true. Please apologise for my absence to your esteemed uncle and the Colonel.”

Sir John bowed and left the room. Darcy flexed his fingers and rubbed them unconsciously. He thought he would berate himself for that loss of control, but he did not. He had known the truth in perhaps what Sir John said, but he had no right to say it. Darcy did acknowledge his faults; he could not but think in shame of his actions in his chamber when he had become little better than Wickham! No, he did own to his faults and now he had seen how close to tragedy his behaviour had led him he would not ignore said faults again.

Darcy felt drained as he handed his hat to Robert. He’d missed dinner, remembering to scribble a hasty apology to both Catherine and Georgiana, because he had spent the afternoon sequestered with his uncle and cousins.

The truth of the matter had been that although several persons had seen Lord Snitterton with cards up his sleeve; it could yet still be hushed up to some degree. The rumours of course would still exist but they would die away in time. Snitterton wished of course to brazen it out, as he still protested his innocence. Although he had not been so vocal when Darcy had given him a look; Snitterton was not innocent.

Lord Matlock could of course disinherit his son. He could not prevent the title going to Snitterton but he could prevent the money, but Darcy had counselled that that should be only the extreme. Breaking up the family estate should be considered the last resort. It had been a close-run thing because of Snitterton’s obstinacy, but he had at last accepted banishment to the Matlock’s West Indian property. Darcy wished he could feel sorry for his cousin but he could only hope that there Snitterton would learn to be a man and not a weak-willed boy. Age did not necessarily mean maturity, a fact Darcy was rapidly coming to accept.

Of course with the ton buzzing about my lord Snitterton’s disgrace, they were either forgetting past scandals or beginning to disbelieve such things; after all, who had told them? And look at what he was capable of! Darcy was glad of his stiff uncompromising character, as far as society was concerned; it made scandal harder to stick.

It was Edwards’ day off and Darcy rued the fact he’d agreed to it, though he could not have known at the time how much he would desire to be waited upon when he returned home. He pulled off his jacket and deftly removed his cufflinks.

There was a knock at the door and Darcy turned to see Catherine enter. She entered from her room and Darcy was surprised she knocked. There was little reason for her to knock. Darcy hoped that it was not because of what had occurred some nights previous. He had thought that they had moved past that together and had agreed to forget past grievances.

“I am sorry, even though Georgiana has gone to bed early, I thought I might as well ask. She was worried that your absence meant an illness with her aunt or cousins – “

Darcy shook his head, “No, no illness.”

Catherine closed the door behind her and crept closer a little, “It is not because of me – “

Darcy gave a tight smile and shook his head, “No, nothing to do with that. My lamentable cousin stepped one step too far that is all.”

“Oh.” He expected her to ask, but she seemed willing to leave the room, which surprised him. She had certainly not restrained herself from questioning him in the past! Although, he had needed that questioning desperately to prevent himself from doing anything brainless.

“He will be going to the West Indies as soon as a passage can be secured under the circumstances,” he was of course referring to the war.

She blinked, “How nice for him.”

“Nice?” Darcy was astounded. The West Indies nice?

“Is it not supposed to be very sunny?”

Darcy laughed, he had certainly not thought of it that way. He could not imagine his cousin in the colonies; Snitterton was too particular. Now, he would always envision his cousin blinded by sunlight! Darcy could not help but be glad he could appreciate Catherine’s conversation. If it had been not two months previous, he might have assumed she really meant that it would be pleasant for his cousin.

“Well I shall leave you.”

“Wait.”

She turned back towards him, puzzled and inquiring. Darcy had tried to be noble and virtuous and had played the martyr. He could not but regret it; it had prevented not only his happiness but that of all those around him. He’d refused to see any virtues in the lady standing before him. His introspection and petty jealousy of those with more open tempers was getting him nowhere. It would have to stop.

Without allowing his mind to interfere, Darcy made the two paces that brought him in front of her, cupped her cheek and kissed her.

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