Page 97 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Westbourne Green

London

Two mornings later

The sun rose valiantly into the sky, burning off the morning mists, as Mr. Colborne, accompanied by Mr. Manton and another member of the League, Sir Wesley Graves, stepped down from their carriage onto the cool grass of Westbourne Green. Colborne squinted thoughtfully at the area where he and Lord Castleren would exchange pistol shots. It was level, and the nearby trees blocked the breeze; it was a perfect place for a duel.

A few minutes later, another carriage bowled up to disgorge Viscount Castleren, along with the brothers Mr. Alan Richards and Mr. Samuel Richards, who were acting as Castleren’s second and third for the duel, plus a surgeon. The seconds and thirds conferred with one another and examined the dueling pistols, as nearly identical as was possible, both with hair trigger pulls.

“Twenty-five yards?” the elder Richards brother inquired in a professional tone.

“That is correct,” Manton agreed.

The seconds carefully paced the appropriate distance and Colborne took his place, while Castleren took his position with the requisite gap from his opponent, both men holding their pistols pointed toward the ground.

Solemnly, Mr. Samuel Richards lifted the handkerchief in his hand. For a moment, all was silent save for the cry of a nearby bird.

Then the handkerchief fluttered toward the ground and simultaneously both men lifted their guns, aimed, and fired.

And Viscount Castleren, who had sired Anne de Bourgh by raping her mother, fell to the ground as the bullet pierced his heart.

***

Pemberley

22 years later

“And that is how Castleren died,” Lady Catherine explained, leaning back in her chair.

Elizabeth Darcy, who had been leaning forward throughout her ladyship’s recital, blew out a breath and said, “What an incredible story, Madam. Was Mr. Colborne injured?”

“No,” Anne Fitzwilliam, née de Bourgh, said, “Castleren missed him entirely.”

“Was Colborne brought up on charges of murder for the viscount’s death?” Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy asked solemnly, tightening his grip on his lovely wife’s hand.

“No,” Lady Catherine said decidedly. “The duel was carried out properly, you know, and dueling was looked upon more benevolently twenty years ago than it is now.”

“And it is still widely accepted,” Darcy murmured, “though when a death occurs, there might be legal ramifications.”

“Anne?” Elizabeth asked impulsively.

“Yes?”

“This is an improper question, but how do you feel about the death of Lord Castleren?”

Anne Fitzwilliam, leader of the League of the Golden Daffodil, looked up into the face of her husband Richard and said, “I am thankful he is dead and has been these many years.”

“Are you truly?” Lady Catherine asked with a hint of worry.

“I am,” Anne assured her mother. “My father, my true father, Sir Lewis, was entirely correct. The man had to be stopped, and I am thankful that due to the actions of the League, he was prevented from harming any other women.”

The End