Page 21 of Dishonorable Gentlemen (Bennet Gang #1)
A Meeting of Seconds
Darcy left his mount with one of the lads outside the inn and strode up the wide front steps. He entered to the sight of an empty desk and the sound of murmurs as people in the public room to his left caught sight of him through the open doorway. Ignoring them, he rang the bell to summon the innkeeper.
The man came out of the public room wiping his hands on his apron and hurried to take up his position. “Mr. Darcy, sir, how may I assist you this afternoon?”
“I require the use of one of your private rooms.”
“Certainly, sir. For…?”
“Privacy.”
“Yes. Certainly,” the innkeeper repeated. “If you would care to wait, I will have the room made ready.” He gestured to the public room.
“I would not care to wait. I will endure an unlit fire.”
The man nodded, his expression carefully casting no judgment. “This way. I will show you back and then send someone in.”
The innkeeper turned to lead the way down the hall, but not before Darcy took in the knowing glint in his eyes. That, coupled with the hushed rumble from the public room, told him that word of the duel had already spread. He shook his head, wondering how. Certainly, the Bennet sisters would not have told anyone, and he and Bingley had been careful not to speak of Mr. Collins’ challenge in the presence of others.
Darcy was shown into the same room he and Bingley had breakfasted in their first morning in Meryton. The fire, while laid, was indeed unlit, casting the room into chill darkness.
“I will send someone to light the fire immediately,” the innkeeper reiterated. “Would you care to have anything brought while you wait?”
“No,” Darcy said flatly. Taking in the way the innkeeper deflated, he added, “For your trouble,” and extracted a banknote from his wallet. “And when Mr. Robert Collins arrives, please show him back and get him anything he requires.”
The sight of the note instantly reinvigorated the man. He took it, bowing. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I will see that Mr. Collins is shown in at once.”
“Mr. Robert Collins,” Darcy reiterated. For all he’d urged restraint in Bingley, for all his disapproval of dueling, Darcy didn’t know if he could be trusted not to turn one duel into two, were he forced to be in the presence of the odious magistrate. The man was an appalling example of a gentleman.
“Mr. Robert Collins,” the innkeeper echoed with another bow, backing from the room.
He left the door open, presumably so that light from the sconce in the hall could enter, for without it the windowless space would be dark as a moonless night. In moments, a maid bearing embers entered and soon candles were lit and a fire crackled in the grate. After she departed, curtsying on her way out, Darcy took a seat at the table. He was almost a half hour early for the meeting he and Robert Collins had settled on, and so didn’t expect the young man anytime soon.
Five minutes later, Robert Collins was shown in, likewise declining anything from the innkeeper. The man didn’t seem to mind, Darcy’s banknote still fresh in his pocket, and bowed himself out, closing them in. Collins doffed his hat, bowing.
Darcy rose, studying the younger Collins with fresh eyes, now that he’d been in the local region for long enough to hear the rumors of the man’s heritage. Indeed, he looked nothing like his older brother. While that was no confirmation of the claims that he was no true Collins, Darcy could only take the lack of resemblance as a good sign.
Robert fidgeted with the hat he held, tapping it lightly against his leg. “Mr. Darcy. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“As Mr. Bingley’s second, I could hardly do otherwise.”
“Can I hope that Mr. Bingley’s temper has cooled and he wishes to beg off?” Robert blurted. “Only, it would be for the best, I believe, if this confrontation did not take place.”
The man seemed exceptionally nervous, as if Darcy might decide to pummel him simply for being there. “I can see no way to persuade Bingley into bowing out. You do know what your brother said about Miss Bennet, do you not?”
Robert winced. “I, ah, no, I do not, but I know what he is saying all about the village and that is terrible enough.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. He shouldn’t ask. Knowing would only anger him, and he required a cool head. The words leapt forth despite the reasonableness of his thoughts. “What is he saying?”
“I would rather not repeat such sland—” Robert broke off, apparently realizing he shouldn’t call his brother’s words ‘slander’ as he was the man’s second. “I would rather not say.”
And Darcy would truly rather not know, lest he be forced to challenge the magistrate as well. “It seems to me that everyone is aware that a duel is planned,” he said, deliberately changing the topic.
“That is the rumor, yes.” The young man before Darcy rapped his hat against his leg. “I am afraid Mr. Collins has not been circumspect.”
Because he was a fool or because he wanted to make certain Bingley wouldn’t back out? He’d certainly seemed intent on drawing a reaction from Bingley in the garden. Darcy could not help but be leery of such stratagems. “Because it appears that many people now know the source of the insult, the only way out of this is for your brother to withdraw his words and publicly apologize to Miss Bennet. Mr. Bingley will not be swayed from protecting her honor.”
Robert was already shaking his head. “He will neither apologize nor withdraw his quest for satisfaction. He gave me this.” He produced a folded page.
Taking it, Darcy found it contained the magistrate’s official challenge. “Very well.” Darcy folded the page and tucked it into his coat. “I imagine we should move on to discussing the details.” He gestured to the other chair at the table, retaking his, and waited until Robert sat before continuing with, “Mr. Bingley requests pistols.” Bingley was not an accomplished fencer. Collins might not be either, for all Darcy knew, but it was easy to see that he had the advantage of weight and reach on Bingley.
“Very well,” Robert agreed. “Mr. Collins prefers pistols as well.”
“As to the time, dawn tomorrow seems appropriate. There is no reason to drag this out.”
Robert was shaking his head before Darcy finished speaking. “Mr. Collins requests five days to get his affairs in order. He has sent for something from London that he must see to, and it has not yet arrived.”
“Five days?” During which the man would keep going about the village laying down insults to Miss Bennet? “I think not.”
“He is the local magistrate. He says that putting his affairs in order takes longer than it does most men.”
From another, Darcy might believe that. “What is this thing he has sent for from London?” London was not far. Darcy could only conclude that Collins was either plotting or afraid.
Robert shrugged. “He has not confided in me, but I do know that he paid one of the officers to employ his leave time to retrieve whatever it is. He departed yesterday.”
So, Collins had sent someone to London as soon as Bingley had accepted his challenge? Darcy’s suspicions grew, though he could think of nothing from London, or elsewhere, that could aid a man in a duel. “Tomorrow at dawn,” he said firmly.
“Two mornings hence?” Robert suggested tentatively.
Darcy studied the earnest young man across from him. “Very well. Two mornings hence.”
Robert’s shoulders dropped to a more natural angle. “Thank you. He won’t be happy, but at least it is something.”
“As to a location, I am open to your suggestions.” Darcy held up a staying hand before Robert could speak. “But know that we do not want witnesses. This is to be a private matter.” It was one thing for there to be rumors of a duel, even evidence in the way of an injury, and quite another to have a bevy of witnesses able to testify that the illegal act had taken place and to give details of the event.
“My brother suggested…that is, there is a valley. It is in Netherfield. It is where our father dueled General Oakwood. You and Mr. Bingley could walk there, in truth, although I do not see why you would. It is accessible by mount only from the northwest end, and by carriage not at all, though one can reach the head of the valley. Few know it is even there.”
Darcy considered that. It sounded like the ideal location, except that Collins had suggested it. But then, he and Bingley did not know the lay of the land. They would be forced to rely on suggestions, and to whom else could they turn for one? Asking any of the locals for the best location to hold a duel would only result in half the village turning up to watch.
Finally, he said, “Show me.”
“We will need our mounts.”
Darcy’s was summoned and Robert’s sent for, and they thanked the innkeeper for his hospitality. With Darcy’s banknote in his pocket and only a bit of firewood expended, the man seemed quite pleased with the transaction. Soon they were mounted and riding west out of Meryton.
To Darcy’s surprise, Robert Collins led him up the selfsame slope he’d ridden up on his very first morning in Meryton. At the top, no fog waited. Only a fine view of Netherfield Park. Still, Darcy felt a disjointed sense of already having done everything he now did, as if walking through a waking dream. He scanned the hilltop, but no mysterious woman, who in his mind now wore Miss Elizabeth’s face, waited.
“We must leave our mounts here and go on foot, to come at the valley from this direction.”
Darcy turned, almost startled to hear Robert Collins speak. “Do you not fear they will be stolen?”
Robert blinked at him. “Stolen?”
Did no one care that there were bandits lurking somewhere in the vicinity? Shaking his head, Darcy dismounted.
They left their horses tethered to some scrubby bushes and continued along the hilltop. It didn’t surprise Darcy that Robert led him to the steep cleft where his mist-woman had disappeared. Were he dreaming, that was precisely where this day would take him.
They descended into a shallow valley, trees thick to each side. The dell, for that was all it truly was, was neither deep nor long, the far end opening to a field, but was wide and relatively flat along the bottom. It would serve their purpose well.
“If you go out the end of the valley or through that copse,” Robert gestured left, “You will find yourself in Netherfield Park’s fields. If you go up the northeast slope, the forest is far more dense. Dovemark lands. General Oakwood did not convert much of his holding into fields.”
Darcy walked about the dell, finding the footing good. “You say a carriage may be kept waiting at the far end, there?”
“There is a farm track that a skilled driver can easily manage.”
Darcy nodded and turned his back on the open end of the valley to study the hill down which they’d come. The sun rose in the southeast at this time of year, which would give one combatant a slight advantage, but which one would be decided by the flip of a coin, so that couldn’t be part of Collin’s plan. At least, not if Darcy supplied the coin.
The trees gave them shelter. The land was private and removed from the village. It was, in fact, land Bingley currently leased. Darcy could see no reason not to agree to the location, except for a vague, lingering doubt. That doubt, however, overshadowed the entirety of this affair, and Darcy knew of no other location to propose.
He came full circle. “Very well. Two mornings hence, at dawn, in this valley. Coin toss, or a count?” He offered only those options, though he suspected Collins would attempt to insist that, as challenger and supposedly the wronged party, he held the right to shoot first.
“Mr. Collins prefers a count. ”
Again, doubt filled Darcy. Why would Collins forgo the right to take the first shot without even an argument? He looked about again, trying to ascertain why he felt they were being led astray, then turned back to Collins to say, “We will come ahorse. Aside from the four of us, I require that the local doctor be present nearby.”
“That would be Mr. Jones, the apothecary in Meryton. We can bring him in the carriage.”
“Then we are agreed.” Grimness edged Darcy’s tone. He could not shake the feeling that, despite being warranted, this duel was a treacherous undertaking.
They climbed back up the slope in silence, but when they reached their horses, Robert Collins turned to Darcy. “Is there any way you can persuade Mr. Bingley to forgo this?” Worry lined his features, adding gravity to his youthful countenance.
“I do not see a way.” Darcy wished he did. Or, at least, that he saw a way that wouldn’t end up with him or Bingley challenging Collins anyhow. The man was a cad.
“I hate to…that is, he is my brother, and has had the care of me since our father died. He employs me and treats me well enough, even though we both know the rumors about my parentage, so it pains me to speak this way, but I feel, in my bones, that a plot is afoot. I fear for Mr. Bingley.”
Darcy did as well, but could see no way out. No world in which Bingley would permit what Mr. Collins had said about Miss Bennet to stand. Especially now that a challenge had been issued and accepted. “All duels are dangerous.”
Glumly, Robert nodded. “Yes. Well, true enough.” He turned to his horse.
“But I thank you for voicing your concern. It is honorable of you.”
Robert turned back. “If I learn anything, anything at all that impugns my brother’s honor and expunges Cousin Jane’s, I will come to you.” With that, he mounted.
Darcy considered that as they rode back down the narrow track and could only conclude that Robert Collins was a good man.
Where the trail into the hills met the roadway, Darcy turned for Meryton, receiving a look of inquiry from Robert Collins that he ignored. He had a second task to carry out on Bingley’s behalf. Darcy did not quite know how he would go about it, but he must call on the Bennets and Oakwoods and persuade Miss Bennet to rescind her words. More than the prospect of a duel, the weight of her declaration that she would not wed Bingley if he carried through on the act weighed on him. Bingley wallowed in a misery that could only hinder him during the bout.
When they reached the center of the village, Robert drew up before the magistrate’s office. Darcy halted as well, to give his farewell, but the words were curtailed by the office door opening and Miss Bennet, accompanied by a maid, stepping into the street.
She clutched a handkerchief and tears stood out against her white cheeks. Sighting them, she gasped, rapidly dabbing at her face, and attempted a smile.
Surprised as he was to find the miss with whom he must speak before him, Darcy still dismounted with alacrity, Robert on his heels. They both hurried forward, their trailing mounts shielding them from the rest of the street as they converged on Miss Bennet.
“Cousin Jane.” Though worry colored his voice, Robert Collins bowed. “Whatever is the matter?”
She looked up at them with pink-rimmed eyes. “Oh, do not tell my sisters I was here. Please.”
Robert looked to Darcy, who shook his head. She was not Darcy’s cousin. He had no notion what the trouble was.
Robert peered past her at the closed door. “What did he do?” The question held a surprisingly hard edge.
Miss Bennet shook her head. “Nothing. Truly. He simply refused me.”
Behind her, pinch-faced, the maid dropped her gaze to study the walkway at their feet.
“Refused you?” Darcy repeated.
Miss Bennet drew in a deep breath, applied her handkerchief a final time before stuffing it away, and drew back her shoulders. “I told him that I would accept his proposal if he would call off the duel.”
Darcy gaped at her.
“Never,” Robert said with considerable vehemence. “You cannot bind yourself to him.”
She turned her now composed face to him. “I would rather that than see Mr. Bingley end up the way P-p-papa Arthur did, but Mr. Collins said that he would be rid of Mr. Bingley soon enough and would instead take Kitty’s five thousand p-pounds.” She looked away, her recently claimed composure cracking.
“Your cousin is correct.” Darcy gestured to Robert Collins as he spoke, to make certain Miss Bennet knew he did not refer to the magistrate. “As much as I decry this duel, any dueling, it would kill Bingley more surely to have you marry Mr. Collins than any ball from a pistol can. ”
She closed her eyes, her misery so acute as to awake a like emotion in Darcy’s chest. “I do not know what to do,” she murmured. “I will not be able to bear it if Mr. Bingley is slain, especially over my honor.”
Lowering his tone to match hers, Darcy could only reply, “There is nothing to be done.”
“Mr. Darcy and I have inspected the location,” Robert said hurriedly, his expression nearly as wretched as Miss Bennet’s. “And I will examine the pistols ten times over. Everything will be fairly done.”
Her gaze snapped to him. “Why would it not be?”
Robert blinked, startled. “I-I do not know. I simply thought to reassure you.”
If anything, the worry in her eyes amplified.
“It is unlikely that Bingley will come to any great harm,” Darcy said firmly, then gentled his voice to add, “But he is in a state of misery in which no man should go into danger.”
Miss Bennet flinched, offering no prevarication but rather, “I am sorry for my hasty words. I was desperate to prevent a duel.”
“Then I may tell Bingley that you rescind your declaration?”
She nodded. “I do. Please tender my apologies to Mr. Bingley. My words were spoken in desperation and hold no truth.” Pink chased away some of her pallor.
“He will be pleased to hear that.”
Robert Collins looked back and forth between them in confusion. “I imagine that I ought to return to my post,” he said glumly.
Darcy turned to Miss Bennet. “Do you require an escort home?” Hope bubbled in him that he might still see Miss Elizabeth.
But Miss Bennet shook her head. “As I intimated, I do not wish my sisters, or my mother for that matter, to discover the offer I made today. They do not know I am out.” She stood straighter and offered a watery smile to her maid. “Lucy is with me. We will be perfectly well returning to Dovemark, but I thank you, Mr. Darcy.” She looked from him to her cousin, her gaze sharpening. “Is it tomorrow, then?”
Darcy did not need to ask what. He shook his head. “No.”
“May I ask when?”
He exchanged a look with Robert Collins. Would Miss Bennet spread word about?
“Please,” she said softly. “So that I may know when to expect news. It would be heartless to leave me in undue suspense.”
“I ask that you keep the information from becoming generally known.” Darcy infused firmness into his words.
Miss Bennet dipped her head in acknowledgment.
Darcy’s gaze slid past her, to her maid.
Lucy appeared surprised at being noticed, but nodded vigorously. “I won’t tell a soul, sir.”
“Lucy can be trusted,” Miss Bennet added. “That is why I chose her to accompany me today.”
The girl flushed, appearing pleased.
Darcy studied the two a moment longer. “Two dawns hence.”
Sorrow filled Miss Bennet’s features and she nodded again. “Very well. Thank you for telling me.”
After a round of farewells, their impromptu meeting broke up. Miss Bennet and her maid carried on up the street. Robert Collins led his horse away, and Darcy turned for Netherfield. He did not urge any speed from his mount, happy for time to ponder what he’d learned. While it pleased him that he could reassure Bingley of Miss Bennet’s affections, Darcy could not tamp down his growing fear that Collins plotted in some way. Despite his lack of evidence and Robert Collins’ reassurance, Darcy did not believe that Bingley would be allotted a fair duel.