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Page 40 of Elizabeth’s Refuge (Mr. Underwood’s Elizabeth & Darcy Stories #16)

A drizzle fell from the sky when Elizabeth, Darcy and the soldiers returned to Brighton that evening with Mrs. Bennet and Kitty.

Jane and her husband, and Mary and the Gardiners had independently decided to come to Brighton after receiving the letters Elizabeth and Darcy had sent out describing what had happened and the portion of their plans that was not illegal.

Elizabeth’s stomach still ached with the after echo of her fear, and she did not think she would ever forget the fear of those minutes, or the sense of terror she felt as Lord Lachglass’s gun turned towards her.

Jane ran out of from under the porch where she stood with the rest of them as soon as she saw the group arrive, followed by Lydia, Mary and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.

Mr. Gardiner embraced his sister.

Mama had not entirely recovered from the shock she had suffered, and every few minutes she profusely thanked Mr. Darcy, and the soldiers, and everyone else. Elizabeth had the impression that she did not understand that it was not one of the soldiers who shot Lord Lachglass.

Kitty had recovered from her own shock more easily than Elizabeth ever would have expected her to, and after they had mostly cleaned the blood off her dress she had been fairly amiable and almost cheerful as they had walked back to the carriages.

She talked a great deal with Captain Dilman, curious about how Lydia did, and about a brother-in-law she had not yet met.

Except… there was something in Kitty’s eyes, something that was in all their eyes. It had been a desperate and frightening situation, and that they would all survive had been by no means a sure thing.

Everyone talked, and Colonel Pike asked what happened, and Captain Dilman gave his report, and they went into the drawing room, where the housekeeper provided them tea.

Colonel Pike claimed to be a confirmed and permanent bachelor, though perhaps he was less confirmed than he pretended, as he glanced at Mary from the side as he said that.

They had been all talking while they waited.

Everyone talked; the Gardiners’ fortunes had been improving of late, for while prices everywhere were still depressed, business matters were not so bad as they had been immediately after the end of the war. Darcy spoke to Jane’s husband a great deal, who Elizabeth could tell he liked.

It was a crowded party that was happy for the most part.

After a while the rain stopped, and Elizabeth needed some air, so she stepped out with Darcy onto the porch.

She leaned back into his arms and he held her snugly and tight.

He kissed the top of her hair, and once more, and then again.

She relaxed deeper and deeper, the terror and bloodshed of this morning began to seem as a distant past, something gone, forever.

The sun was setting, turning the sky brilliant reds and oranges and crimson, and there was a rich smell of vegetal growth everywhere, and the white seabirds flew high in the sky, squawking and flapping their wings.

The stooped beggar with the scar on his neck shuffled along the road in front of the colonel’s house again, and he turned to look at them and he smiled.

And Elizabeth and Darcy smiled back at General Fitzwilliam, and then in his disguise he shuffled away towards the ship that would take him back to France.

Elizabeth and Darcy kissed again, smiling at each other, squeezing each other tight, and feeling how they were well and alive. And then they went back inside, to rejoin the rest of their family.

*****

General Fitzwilliam was snuck by the guard at the door to his rented house in Cambrai into his own room.

The guard was partially in on the conspiracy, and his eyes silently asked a question that he had too much decorum to directly ask upon seeing his general.

However General Fitzwilliam’s grin showed him clearly that the result of his quest had been a success.

Of course no one outside of General Fitzwilliam, his brother and Fergus knew precisely what he had returned in secret to England to do.

But everyone who knew Major Williams had been in the bed pretending to be both General Fitzwilliam and ill, could make fairly good guess.

But all these men were military veterans who had seen General Fitzwilliam in his old days as a colonel lead them bravely under fire, with presence of mind and a sharp tactical skill.

General Fitzwilliam quietly padded his way into his room where his half-brother lay on the bed with a thin sheen of sweat standing over his forehead, staring up at the ceiling blank eyed.

He turned his head absently and moaned piteously upon hearing the entry into the room, and then when his eyes realized that it was his brother, Fitz jumped out of the bed and threw off the covers. “Thank Jove, thank the skies, and the grounds, and everything that you are back .”

He wore a fine silk nightshirt of General Fitzwilliam’s that General Fitzwilliam rather liked. The instant Major Fitz stood, he groaned in pleasure and stretched his arms high above his head. “Jove, I could run a mile.”

“You seem surprisingly happy to see me, since this is the end of your vacation.”

“Vacation! Leisure. The deuce! This was no vacation. Have you ever tried, when you were entirely healthy, to lie in one place for more than a week without moving? There was a close call when the Duke stopped in for one of his inspections the first day you were out, and after that we decided I must always stay near the bed prepared to look the invalid. Vacation! This was the hardest most unpleasant duty you’ve ever given me. ”

The young officer paced back and forth stretching his legs and almost growling as he worked the kinks out of his body. “A run, on foot. And then a horse gallop for a ten-mile distance, at least. At least.”

“I cannot win, I tell you to lie in bed and you complain, I tell my other men to exercise and drill and they complain. You all just will not be satisfied.”

“Making a man lie in a bed for ten days without break is a damned fool way to reward a man. You might use it to torture those who you want to pretend you are pleased with, but who have secretly angered you.” He turned and looked at General Fitzwilliam suspiciously. “Say… I haven’t done anything?”

“I’m still in too good spirits to needle you by pretending you had.

” General Fitzwilliam with an annoyed grunt got the last of the plastered nose off his face.

“Strange that I do not feel some remorse, or sense of tragedy, or guilt, or something of that sort. My mother’s nephew.

My cousin. The deuce of it is, I don’t feel anything of that sort.

Just a solid, cold satisfaction at delivering a fine shot. ”

Looking almost like himself in the mirror, General Fitzwilliam pulled a heavy glass bottle from his bag and handed it to Fitz. “For you, for keeping me in Cambrai these last weeks. A fine cognac from Darcy’s stores, so you don’t need to worry about my taste in alcohol.”

Fitz laughed, and unstoppered the bottle. He took sniff of it and whistled. “Very fine. How were Mr. and Mrs. Darcy?”

“Happy, and embracing each other last I saw them. Surrounded by Mrs. Darcy’s family who all arrived in Brighton in time to greet their return from my cousin’s estate.”

Fitz poured two shot glasses full and handed one to General Fitzwilliam. “To Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.”

They clinked the glasses and General Fitzwilliam drank his down. He let the rich alcohol swirl around his tongue for several seconds to savor the taste before swallowing it. Fitz sipped his slowly.

General Fitzwilliam stretched out, and laughed. “I suppose I’ll need to take my turn lying in the bed, before my miraculous recovery happens.”

There was a knock on the door, and the surgeon’s voice called out, “It’s Mr. Holmes.”

Fitz and General Fitzwilliam called out at the same time, “Enter.”

The surgeon bowed his way into the room. “General Fitzwilliam, you look much better, but you really should not stand around drinking so soon.”

“I’m not going to let you bleed me .” General Fitzwilliam laughed.

“Very kind of you, Major Williams, to call on the General as soon as you returned from your trip to Paris.”

Fitz shrugged. “I had business with him.”

All three men laughed. The surgeon came forward and studied the bottle on the counter. “Oh, oh my. That’s a very fine bottle. Very fine.”

“No!” Fitz cried. “Not after how you’ve tortured me the past weeks.”

“I only bled you twice.”

“I’m healthy, entirely healthy.”

General Fitzwilliam laughed and pulled another bottle from his bag. “Mr. Darcy was quite generous with the stores he laid in for himself in Paris; I have enough for you both.”

“Well, in that case.” Fitz laughed and poured a third glass for the surgeon and handed it to him.

Like Fitz, Mr. Holmes savored and sipped the liquid.

“So matters in this mysterious family matter of yours that necessitated this matter…” Mr. Holmes vaguely waved his hand as he spoke. He then held up his hand. “I of course do not want you to tell me .”

“Matters went very well.”

General Fitzwilliam looked at his reflection in the mirror one last time before taking off his clothes to crawl into bed. He looked harsh and wolf like.

Family was important. Perhaps the most important thing.

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