Darcy alighted from his carriage and headed through the arched entrance of Kings. It was mid-afternoon and although not often seen at the club, especially at such an hour, he had promised Richard he would drop by. He would spend an hour or so here before collecting Georgiana from the Swanston's, returning to dine at Grosvenor Street by the appropriate hour. As he removed his hat and overcoat, handing them to a server, he nodded in response to several acknowledgments of his unexpected arrival.
Crossing the room, he spotted Richard at a table playing what he assumed to be Commerce. Catching his eye, he then headed towards a quiet alcove, collecting a copy of The Statesmen as he went. He settled into a large leather, winged backed chair, ordered a brandy and was content to be left thus reading his paper until Richard finished with his card game. He was, and never had been, one for drinking in the afternoon, yet today he felt the need to be quite justified. He had just come from a business meeting which included Charles Bingley. Charles had decided to expand the family textile business further north, taking ownership of a factory in Manchester. Darcy, though uninterested in trade, was not so idle on the subject as to not see a good investment when one presented itself. He had signed with Charles as a silent small percentage stakeholder; offering an upfront sum in order to supply some immediate cashflow against the purchase on which he expected a most profitable return. It was not the business dealing itself which had left him unsettled, by and large it was highly acceptable; it had been Bingely's contemplative mood which had unnerved Darcy's countenance. Not once, not twice but three times did Bingley bring up Hertfordshire and their stay at Netherfield last September. Although he never spoke her name, he was certain Miss Jane Bennet was the true reason for such reminiscing. Had he been so wrong on that count? Was the sister correct in her accusations of his high handedness in separating the two. Was he simply a foolish Lord Capulet towards his own star-crossed lovers? Foolish man no, you did as you believed to right! He scolded himself for doubting his own judgement, he had been kinder to Bingley than he had been to himself.
Never before had he questioned his behaviour thus, never had words uttered by a female wounded and plagued him so deeply. Why could he not think of his behaviour in Hertfordshire without feeling the stab of guilt and remorse. Elizabeth Bennet was indeed correct. He had behaved in an unforgivable boorish manner; but why should he behave otherwise? Surrounded by people so decidedly beneath his notice; such frivolous, small minded country folk. Their conversation so lacking, their manners not to be borne. Who could blame him for not inserting himself into their social circle? As true as this general assumption was for the town of Meryton and its inhabitants, it could not be said of all residents. No, Miss Jane Bennet and Charlotte Lucas both seemed quite sensible, well-mannered ladies; and as for Elizabeth Bennet, well there were no words to describe such a female. Elizabeth Bennet. He must not think of Elizabeth Bennet.
He was most certain there was no hope where that woman was concerned, her distaste towards him she had made more than apparent. Yet, since his failed offering for her hand, he could think of nothing but Elizabeth Bennet. Although her acquisitions against his character were harsh indeed; on reflection and much inner scrutiny, one could conclude that such assumptions were not without cause. Oh, how she had wounded him. Her uncivil manner had both only heightened his reservation of her character and made him admire her all the more. His thoughts and feelings on the matter were so contradictory; one moment he cared not for her good opinion, the next he wished it above all else. If only he could see her once more. If only he could be in her company to gauge if his feelings were still true; to observe if there was any hint, that such feelings could be returned. If only he could have the opportunity to show her. He was not so proud and conceited.
"I must say, the concentration on your face is almost audible. What in the paper has caught your attention so?" Richard asked, taking the seat opposite Darcy and a quick swig of his cousin's brandy.
"If you want a drink," Darcy replied dryly, "you need only ask Richard." He motioned to a server to bring them a bottle. "How did the inquest go this morning, no trouble I take it?"
"By the by it was a quick show. The cross examination started early this morning down at the Cat and Bagpipe; you know the one, horrid curtains. Seems the culprit was motivated by personal reasons alone, so concluded no one else was involved." Richard poured himself a large glass of the amber liquid. "Saves me a lot of trouble I can tell you. I shall likely stay in London until the new Prime Minister is appointed, allows me full opportunity to enjoy the season. I might, if you are still willing, take you up on that offer of staying with you and Georgie. Wouldn't mind giving Henry a wide berth, and your table is far superior to that of the barracks."
"Of course, as soon Anne takes residence on the Square, this following Thursday, you are most welcome. Personal you say; what was the fellow's defence for shooting a man dead?" Darcy asked. He was intrigued to know what sort of grudge could fill a man with such rage that he could commit cold murder.
"From what I can tell of the matter," smirked Richard. "The only flaw which I could find with old Perceval was the man was greatly opposed to hunting – but that in itself is no reason to shoot a gentleman!"
"I think you will find when a man has spent four years in a Russian prison, for reasons he believes himself innocent; we must make some allowance, that it is justified to assume it does warped things to the mind." Came a low, straight vowel voice from behind Richard.
"Ah Colville, how the devil are you!" Richard cried standing to shake hands with the Viscount. "Tried to catch you earlier at the trail, but of course you had other things demanding your attention. Are you acquainted with my cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley?"
"Yes, Darcy and I met but yesterday, I must say it is a pleasure to see you again so soon. In answer to your question Darcy; the man believed he was due compensation from the Government after being held, in his eyes wrongly for several years in a Russian prison. The experience left him bankrupt and as expected, quite unhinged. His hatred towards Perceval stemmed from his days as Chancellor of the Exchequer. I have sympathy for the man, I truly do; but one cannot allow such feelings to get in the way of what is right and wrong. He was found guilty of wilful murder and will be hanged before the week is out. There was nothing else for it. It is a sad affair indeed. I feel for the widow most, a family of twelve children left without a father."
"Heavens," Richard laughed. "It is a good job you are not in the militia; one must make quick fire decisions at a moment notice; one cannot dwell on emotion or feel sorry for the decided outcome."
"Then I am thankful for my lot in life, for I do believe it is not a profession in which I would excel. Now on a much lighter note, I do hope to see you both present at the Epsom Derby. It is but a few weeks away, and I would be amiss if I did not tell you to place a bet on me. I am certain this year will be my horse. I would bet my house in Bedford Square, for I am certain Aella is a sure win."
"Is it the same filly you ran at the 2000 Guineas'?" Richard asked.
"The one and the same," replied Edward. "She is by far the best racer I have ever bred. Runs like the wind, her paternal grandmother was the first female horse to ever win at Epsom and I am more than confident my little whirlwind will do the same."
"Some things never change, such fine horses I have never seen. Darcy, I am certain even you have never seen such excellent horses than the ones in this man possession. Father insisted we buy several for Matlock, cost an arm and a leg but every single one of them is a damn fine seat."
From across the room Lord Francis beckoned towards Edward, whom in return nodded his head to imply he would be with him momentarily. It appeared Lord Francis was most anxious that Colville should join them for a game of whist.
"Gentleman," he smiled, "it would appear I am being summoned if you will excuse me."
"Colville, if it would please you, the invite to dine is still very much open. May I suggest," continued Darcy, "this Friday perhaps? There is a plan to take a trip to Vauxhall Gardens later that very evening for an open-air concertino. If you are so inclined I am sure you would make a most welcome addition to the party."
"I think that an excellent invitation and accept most willingly. Colonel Fitzwilliam, always a pleasure, we shall meet again I am sure. Now gentleman, if you do decide to come to Epsom let me know, for I have all the best reservations."
"Capital," replied Richard, shaking Edwards outstretched hand. "Perhaps you and I can have some laughs and sport over at Whites sometime soon. Darcy is no fun at the tables, and I seem to have lost all my other sporting partners to the allure of married life."
"I too am soon hopeful to count myself as one of that happy lot," replied Edward.
"Oh, not you too, cried Richard warmly. "Heavens is no man safe! Well I wish you luck in your endeavour." Richard smiled and raising his glass towards Edward in a comical flurry, as Darcy simply observed, taking in the scene before him. "May the path of true love run smoothly my old fellow."
"Trust me," Edward replied with a devilish wink at the Colonel. "I am working on it." Richard laughed before downing the rest of his glass as the Viscount bowed and left the gentleman to their brandy.
"Capital fellow, was at school with Henry can you believe, poor soul! Jolly lovely looking sister too. I think she was presented at court that same summer your father wore that god-awful purple waistcoat, do you remember! I think she ended up marrying some nobody, wouldn't matter of course, her dowry was excessive! How did you come to meet him? Are you looking for another horse?"
"No, not at all," replied Darcy. "He is a close friend of Anne would you believe. A dear friend of the de Bourgh extended family in Elgin. They seem to have become well acquainted during her stay with her aunt. We met but by chance, yesterday at the Royal Academy. Seems a decent enough fellow."
"He is a friend of Anne's?" asked Richard casually, not daring to meet Darcy's eye. He recalled the panic he had felt last night upon seeing her stood within Darcy's drawing room as though mistress of the house. A vision in crimson, the red only emphasised her creamy pale skin and dark chestnut hair. "Well good. Good. I am glad Anne has been able to make new acquaintances and friends. It is good to get her out of Rosings Park and away from the control of her mother. You said last night she intends to stay in London. Do you know for how long?"
"She is taking possession of the house on Grosvenor Square indefinitely. From what I can tell has little desire to return to Rosings. Though we have not discussed the matter in any detail."
"And you are sure," Richard asked trying to keep his voice as level as possible, "that neither of you wish to marry? That you are both content to go against the wish of family and feel the full wrath of Lady Catherine?"
"We are both certain that a happy marriage is not on the cards between us. It is not our story. I have offered to protect Anne in any way I can; yet I doubt very much she will need much more from me than the occasional piece of guidance. Did you know she is the sole benefactor of the late Sir Lewis's will? She continues to invest well and has sound council. Her mother should take heed, for Rosings Park is not hers to wield."
"I did not know, so she owns it all? How Lady Catherine must detest such a notion." For a moment Richard appeared deep in thought before continuing, "I wonder how much her fortune acquaints to... have you any idea Darcy?"
"None whatsoever and also no desire. I am pleased she now seems to have the will to do what she wishes and certainly has the means to do so. Too long has the girl retired from living life. I barely recognise the Anne of now as the same poor, ill soul girl from a few years past."
"Yes indeed," replied Richard thoughtfully, refilling his brandy glass for the third time. "She is quite the lady to watch is our Anne."