With the Colonel's Help Page 9

  “I have business to conduct with Colonel Forrester of a delicate and private nature. I see no reason why I cannot conduct that business from the more comfortable accommodations of Netherfield than from an inn. You are my cousin. Bingley is your friend. You made the necessary arrangements for my comfort.” He held Darcy’s gaze. “Every word of that is true, and it is all that anyone needs to know about why you and I are there.”

  Darcy could not argue with Richard’s logic. Every bit of what his cousin had said was true. Still, it felt as if there were a layer of disguise to it.

  “It cannot be helped,” Richard replied the unspoken thought written in lines of uncertainty on Darcy’s face. “We do not conceal anything for our own gain but for the protection of others. It is what you would do for Georgiana.”

  Darcy sighed. It was exactly what he had done for his sister, and in so doing, he now found himself in this quagmire. “I was not wrong to conceal Georgie’s trouble, was I?”

  Richard’s mouth dropped open, and a small burst of incredulous laughter spilled out. “Would Mr. Bennet wish to see his daughter’s name bandied about as having fallen prey to a worthless schemer?”

  Darcy shook his head. “I know it in my heart, but I cannot help thinking I might have prevented…”

  “And Mr. Bennet might have required more decorum from his daughter,” Richard interrupted. “He is obviously not incapable of such. Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth are fine examples of proper young ladies.” Richard shook his head.

  Darcy allowed it to be so.

  “Do you remember how I did not wish to share the blame for Georgiana’s foolishness?” Richard had wanted to blame anyone and everyone for what had happened except for himself, Darcy, and Georgiana. It had taken several weeks before he had been able to see the error of Georgiana’s actions as her own, and it had taken just as long for him to accept his share of her folly. Darcy, on the other hand, had seen his shortcomings immediately.

  Darcy replying smile was rueful. There had been many loud arguments over that very thing. Poor Georgiana had taken to her room on more than one occasion due to the shouting Richard had done at Darcy when his cousin had dared to claim they had not done their duty to Georgiana in the best fashion.

  “Seeing the error of one’s way is not easy for most men,” Richard said with a sheepish grin. “We cannot all be like you.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes. “That is a very good thing.”

  Richard chuckled. “Indeed,” he agreed. “However, if I can be persuaded to see reason, I dare say, Mr. Bennet might also be persuaded.” He made the statement lightly, but in his heart, he was determined to see his cousin happy, and since that depended upon Mr. Bennet’s seeing reason, there was no option but to make it happen.

  Darcy blew out a breath. “That is the hope.”

  Richard rose. “Do you wish to make a foray into the wilds of London and call on Bingley? Or would you rather I bring him here?”

  Darcy came around from behind his desk. “I have no desire to see his sister, so if you would be so kind as to invite him to dinner, I would be most thankful.”

  Richard clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “You have no idea how glad I am to see that smile on your face.”

  “Yes, well, allow me to wear it a while longer and visit Bingley for me.”

  Richard laughed. “With pleasure, Darcy. With pleasure.”

  ~*~*~

  That evening, Bingley attended dinner with his friend, and the inevitable and required topic of Darcy’s part in separating Bingley from Jane was canvassed and quickly discarded. Bingley had read the letter Darcy had sent with his cousin two days prior when Richard had gone to give Bingley Lydia’s message regarding her sister being in town.

  Lydia’s message had been relayed cheerfully and loudly by Richard as he knew Caroline was just passing the door to the study as Bingley was shutting it. The rest of the information of which Bingley needed to be made aware, including Jane’s call on Bingley’s sisters and Darcy’s error in his recommendations, Richard had left to the work of Darcy’s letter. He had, of course, answered questions where he could and assured Bingley of Darcy’s sorrow at discovering his error.

  Therefore, when the subject was broached over wine glasses and cutlery, it was a topic that had already been given an ample amount of contemplation. As is the way of things, time spent in contemplation of anything startling, especially of an unpleasant nature, when taken up in the mind of a reasonable and rational gentleman, such as Bingley was, will give the news and opinions time to soften and provide a greater chance for clarity in understanding to develop.

  “I shall not question your opinion on the affections of ladies again,” Darcy said as the conversation drew to a close.

  Having attained a nod of acknowledgment from his friend. Darcy took a sip of his wine before returning to his plate of food.

  Richard was pleased to see his cousin savouring each bite as it indicated his spirits were still lifted, and Richard knew that Darcy with raised spirits would be much more beneficial to their cause. They — he and Bingley — must do their part to ensure Darcy did not slip back into a morose state, no matter how long it might take to set things to right.

  “He is learning,” Richard said with a wink at Bingley. “Before you know it, he will be as knowledgeable about ladies as I am.”

  Bingley guffawed. Richard was rarely without a dance partner or dinner companion when he was forced to attend a soiree. However, he, like his cousin, was not particularly fond of public gatherings where men and ladies were — as Richard put it — put on display and required to peruse each other as if they were horses to be auctioned at Tattersall’s.

  Richard wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair as his glass was refilled and his empty plate removed from the table. “He has tentatively engaged himself to Miss Elizabeth.” He avoided looking at Darcy, for he knew Darcy would not be pleased. However, Bingley needed to know the importance of all that was going to take place over the next few days. The unpleasant must be broached, of course, and directly, but not without some levity and forward movement toward a solution.

  Bingley’s eyes grew wide. “Have I heard you correctly? Darcy has made an offer of marriage to a lady who is not of great standing or wealth and who has ties to trade?”

  “Indeed, he has,” Richard replied.

  Darcy rolled his eyes. It was not undeserved censure. Had he not used those same arguments as to why it was best if Bingley did not return to Hertfordshire and attempt to persuade the lovely Miss Bennet to love him? It was only natural that Bingley should throw back at him Darcy’s own concerns.

  “He has been accepted by such a lady;” Darcy said, “however, the lady’s father has not given his consent and, as you know, his consent is unlikely to be given as things stand.”

  Bingley folded his arms, a smug smile on his lips. “There is a man in Britain who would refuse the great Darcy name and fortune?”

  Again, such teasing was not unmerited. Darcy had never considered that any father would ever object to himself as a husband for a daughter. The thought was humbling. “It appears there is.”

  “Because he did not share all he knew of Wickham when in Hertfordshire,” said Richard. He had told Bingley about this when they had met two days ago, but a reminder seemed as if it might be needed to keep the conversation flowing in the direction he needed it to go.

  “I knew about Wickham,” said Bingley.

  “I would suggest not sharing that bit of news with Mr. Bennet until you have secured his daughter.” Darcy’s tone was bitter, and his smile had faded.

  “I thought you were not going to offer advice where the ladies were concerned,” Bingley said lightly.

  Richard breathed a sigh of relief as Darcy’s lips curled upwards at the comment.

  “I shall not offer advice where their affections are concerned, but I shall where their fathers are concerned. I would not wish my current position on you.”

  “And,” Richard interrupted
before either of his companions could travel down some tangent that would not best serve the purpose of this meal, “in an attempt to alleviate the current circumstances in which Darcy finds himself, we are in need of your assistance in lending us the use of Netherfield.”

  “You are going to Hertfordshire?” Bingley asked Darcy in surprise. “Why?”

  “To deal with Wickham,” Richard replied. “Darcy believes, and I agree, that it is best to have very little left in England to remind anyone of the scoundrel’s existence.” He then told Bingley of his plan regarding Colonel Forrester and Wickham’s transfer.

  Bingley rubbed his chin as Richard explained the purpose of Darcy and his trip to Hertfordshire. “So you are saying that you shall settle Wickham’s debts to the benefit of Bennet’s neighbours and dispose of the louse to the benefit of all but the colonies?”

  “That is the plan,” said Richard. “He will go to his new unit accompanied by a letter to his commanding officer alerting him to the fact that Wickham has deserted once already and has a reputation for dealing unfairly with merchants.” He shrugged and smiled. “A man with Wickham’s reputation will not meet with leniency should he act dishonorably again.”

  “Which he will,” said Bingley, nodding his head.

  “It is rather likely,” agreed Richard.

  “Very well,” said Bingley, reaching for his glass of wine, “I shall send a message along with you to the staff at Netherfield and shall do my part to aid your cause while I am here.”

  “What part is that?” Darcy shifted in his seat and placed his empty glass on the table.

  “I shall speak well of you, of course.”

  Darcy eyed Bingley with concern. “You may regret doing so. It may make Mr. Bennet less than pleased with you.”

  Bingley chuckled. “I do not intend to speak of you to Mr. Bennet. There may be one father in all of England who would refuse you, but what of the mothers?”

  “An excellent thought,” agreed Richard. “A subtle comment about your friend’s regard for Mrs. Bennet’s daughter accompanied by a subtle reminder of his income and estate…” He rubbed his hands together in delight. “Yes, yes, that just might work.” He had not yet met Mrs. Bennet but from all he has heard regarding her desire to see her daughters well-married, he suspected she might be more forgiving than her husband.

  Darcy sighed. He did not like the idea of being thrown on the mercy of Mrs. Bennet, but at present, he was not in a position to object to any plan that might win him Elizabeth’s hand.

  Chapter 11

  For four days, Darcy House sat empty of its master. For four days, the Gardiner’s sitting room was occupied for an hour each day by Mr. Bingley. For four days, Darcy and Richard made calls and paid debts, and for four days, Elizabeth sat by Lydia’s side reading her poems while she improved and gained strength.

  Hours ticked past. The sun set and the moon rose, and Mr. Bennet’s opinion began to soften. Whether this was due to the arguments presented to him by Mr. Gardiner, who through his wife’s intelligence had learned of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, or whether it was due to Mrs. Bennet’s constant laments over her second daughter never marrying and how delightful it would be to have Elizabeth marry Mr. Bingley’s friend with ten thousand a year, or whether it was simply due to time and seeing his youngest daughter becoming well, one cannot say. But no matter the cause of his waning displeasure with Mr. Darcy, the results were such that on the morning of the fifth day, he was in a humor to be amenable to a call such as Colonel Fitzwilliam intended to make.

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Mr. Bennet greeted as Richard entered Mr. Gardiner’s study.

  Richard would have been happy to meet in the sitting room, had it not been filled with females, but it was, and what he needed to discuss with Mr. Bennet needed no audience larger than Mr. Gardiner, who was seated across a chess board from Mr. Bennet.

  “Mr. Bennet, Mr. Gardiner,” Richard nodded to each man. He motioned to a chair and waited for Mr. Gardiner’s permission to take it. “How is Miss Lydia?”

  “She is improving each day,” replied Mr. Gardiner. “I should think within a week, she will be well enough to travel.”

  “That is excellent news.” He had one week to make Mr. Bennet see reason if today’s meeting did not do the trick. “My cousin and I have just returned from travelling ourselves.”

  “Was it a pleasant trip?” Mr. Gardiner asked.

  “The results were positive, but the trip itself was not one of pleasure.” He drew a folded document from his pocket. “Five days ago, I was made aware of some debts that Mr. Wickham had left unpaid when he left Hertfordshire.” He unfolded the paper he held as he spoke. “I made my cousin aware of these numbers and together, we have seen each account settled. More accurately, Darcy has seen these settled. I am, after all, merely a colonel and do not have the deep pockets of my cousin — not that he would have allowed me to pay a shilling toward any of these anyway.” He held Mr. Bennet’s gaze. “Darcy does not take responsibility lightly and would never defer duty to another when he could see to it himself.” He handed the paper he held to Mr. Bennet. “You may wish to see the damage Mr. Wickham did in such a short time while in Hertfordshire.”

  “But those debts,” said Mr. Gardiner, motioning to the paper Mr. Bennet was accepting, “were not Mr. Darcy’s.”

  Richard shook his head. “No, they were not his, but it was implied that they were his fault due to his neglect in warning the inhabitants of Hertfordshire that Mr. Wickham was untrustworthy. So, they became his.”

  “He paid all these?” Mr. Bennet’s eyes were wide as he scanned the page a second time.

  “Every one of them.” Richard shifted. “We did not only travel to Hertfordshire to settle accounts. I said I would see to Mr. Wickham, and, with Darcy’s help and the approval of Colonel Forrester, I have. Wickham has taken a commission in the regulars and will sail to Canada in a fortnight. He will remain under strict supervision until he can no longer see land.”

  “Mr. Darcy paid these and purchased Mr. Wickham a commission?” Mr. Bennet stared at the sheet in front of him as if incapable of comprehension.

  “Again, it was implied that Mr. Wickham’s actions were Darcy’s fault.” Richard allowed his voice to carry in its tone a morsel of the anger he felt at his cousin being accused of such a thing. “I believe our business is now at an end, Mr. Bennet. I will continue to inquire after Miss Lydia for my own and Darcy’s sake until I know that she is well.” He blew out a breath. “There is, however, one thing about which I must speak before we part ways.”

  He put his hand in his pocket and drew something out but kept it concealed. “As you are aware, Georgiana’s care since her father’s death has been shared by Darcy and myself. We have done our best for her, but we have not always done the best for her. We have erred many times. Caring for a young lady is not an easy task.”

  Mr. Bennet muttered his agreement.

  “She was foolish — naive — caught up in her sensibilities rather than her sense, and we nearly lost her.” He paused a moment and then place the rock he held in his hand on the table next to the chess board. “We are not unlike. We have both nearly lost those we loved due to our own errors.” He stood and tapped the rock. “A story from the Good Book,” he said in reply to the unasked question he could see on Mr. Bennet’s face. “I know I am not worthy to cast the first stone.” He lifted his finger and moved to leave. “The question remains,” he said as he reached the door, “are you?” And with that and a good day, he left.

  ~*~*~

  For two days, Mr. Bennet carried that rock in his pocket, running his fingers over it as he thought, weighing it from hand to hand as he considered all that had happened. Finally, on the third day after Colonel Fitzwilliam had called, he could no longer deny that he had been wrong, and after another two hours of attempting to avoid doing what he knew he must, he called for the carriage and made his way to Darcy House, where he shifted from foot to foot as he waited in the entry for the butle
r to inquire after whether his master was home to callers or not.

  Thankfully, or perhaps not, Mr. Bennet could not decide, Mr. Darcy was at home for such a call.

  “Please, have a seat.” Darcy motioned to the chair not occupied by Richard as, and Mr. Bennet sat — but only just. He did not fill the chair completely nor did he relax his posture in any way. Clearly, the man was a ball of nerves. Darcy tipped his head and propped his chin on steepled fingers as he waited for Elizabeth’s father to speak.

  Mr. Bennet carefully placed the rock that had kept him company for two days on the desk. He turned and gave Colonel Fitzwilliam a small smile. “I find I have no need for this, Colonel.” And then he turned toward Darcy. “And I pray that you will not either.”

  Darcy’s brows furrowed as he reached for the rock and looked at his cousin, who gave a small nod of his head. So this was the rock about which Richard had told him — the one that he had left with Mr. Bennet at his last meeting with the gentleman.

  “I do not know why I should need a rock,” he said, turning the stone over in his hands.

  “Because my words and actions were grievously in error,” offered Mr. Bennet. “I allowed my good sense to be overcome by my fear for my daughter. I expected from you what I would have never done myself.”

  Darcy noted how, though Mr. Bennet’s hands were clasped in his lap, the gentleman kept rubbing his thumb and how Mr. Bennet’s chest rose and fell as if breathing were a thing about which one must think and not just do. A small thought about putting the gentleman at ease scurried through Darcy’s mind, but it did not stop long enough to be acted upon. It was necessary, Darcy surmised, that Elizabeth’s father feel the weight of his error, so that the impression of it would be long lasting and of greater effect. It was how he had often dealt with workers who had not met his expectations and how he was learning to deal with Georgiana. It was not an easy thing to do, but it was necessary.