Page 26 of Mr Darcy Gets Angry
Darcy’s countenance was a mask of pain. He reproached himself for not having been more vigilant with a woman he had disliked from the first. Yet what had he been able to censure but her coquetries and questionable morals?
Since his unhappy interference in Bingley’s affair had cost him Elizabeth’s hand, he had grown cautious in offering counsel.
He had disliked Miss Henry’s conduct at the assemblies after Kent, or at the dinners in Matlock House.
By then, he had compared every woman with Elizabeth, who delighted in reasoning rather than in flirtation, and who, though unlike the rest, was as pure as the morning mist. Miss Henry, by contrast, understood too well how to please.
Skilled in the arts of desire, she was no temptation to him; one dance sufficed for him to recognise the fragrance his cousin carried, unwittingly, each morning to Lady Catherine’s table.
That she yielded to the colonel’s advances was not in itself blameworthy, since he wished to marry her; yet her look, bestowed on every man, betrayed her.
Once, he would have warned his cousin; now, he had refrained.
She was handsome, she appeared to have a fortune, and his cousin was plainly enamoured.
A mistake—an enormous one.
“Where are…they?” the colonel asked, referring to Miss Henry and Mrs Avery.
“With Mr Gardiner, and my men.”
Suddenly, Elizabeth was seized with dread for her uncle’s safety. “Where?” she cried, and Darcy saw her anguish.
“Fear not, my dear, Winston has his men with him.”
“You knew!” exclaimed the colonel, looking at Darcy with a shade of reproach.
“I did not know; we suspected. We have learned a great deal in these last weeks. Before that…I merely disliked her.”
“I was aware of it—neither you nor my mother approved. Yet I was not alarmed. She was different, and that was the very reason I—”
But he looked then at Elizabeth and understood that a wife must be different indeed: different in the manner of Elizabeth, not one who gave herself within the first month.
“I shall inform my General,” he said, defeated.
“Stop—pray stop. Recover yourself. Let us deliberate,” Darcy urged. “You may not preserve your honour intact.”
“Everything here concerns England, my friend. My destiny does not count!” the colonel replied with dignity, showing the papers on the floor. Darcy trembled with pride, for never had he esteemed his cousin more. He was prepared to sacrifice his honour for the safety of his country.
“I know, and I agree, but let us recover our composure and reflect.”
“Fitzwilliam is right,” Elizabeth said, and for the first time in an hour, the colonel smiled faintly. “'Fitzwilliam’? Is there something I am not told?”
Darcy inclined his head. “Elizabeth has agreed to be my wife.”
“At last,” said the colonel. “I rejoice for you!”
“Thank you. But let us first resolve your affairs.”
“Yes, there must be a solution,” Elizabeth said.
“There is no solution,” replied the colonel, and began to gather the papers he had cast upon the floor, all save the letter and its translation, which he placed in the pocket of his coat.
“Pray, cousin, hear the lady. Her mind is most discerning.”
“I must see her,” the colonel said, as though he heard nothing.
“You shall see her, but now let us listen to what Elizabeth has to say.”
“No one needs to know why we came,” Elizabeth said. “We could depart this evening, leaving Fitzwilliam’s men to guard the ladies until you speak with your General. To all appearances, they might be your own men.”
“She is right! You will lay before the General a case of treachery. With dignity and honour, yet with much sorrow, since it touches upon Miss Henry’s aunt.
At present, you know not how far Miss Henry is entangled, nor is it your charge to determine it.
You consign the affair to those who may bring it to light and preserve England from a disastrous leakage of intelligence. ”
“It feels dishonourable not to mention you.”
“No, we are but an unimportant instrument; what matters here is your resolve to inform your general, in spite of this dreadful circumstance, when your betrothed is concerned. What matters is that you are a patriot, blameless in this design, ready to sacrifice the lady whom you love to save England,” Elizabeth replied with fervour, and Darcy inclined his head.
“Only at fault for being deceived by a woman—the old tale that men never learn.”
“Yes, but the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland cares nothing for such weakness. It cares only for treason. Even if you had erred carnally, you are still a spotless officer, ready to serve his country and his king,” said Darcy with solemn conviction.
“Regent,” added Elizabeth with a touch of humour, and at once the heavy air of misery began to disperse. “Fitzwilliam is right. You will expose a vile conspiracy, and you are willing to hazard your honour to reveal the truth. Once the Frenchman is seized, I am persuaded more will be discovered.”
“My God,” the colonel cried, “arrested—she will be arrested.”
“Yes, most probably. Yet I believe the guilt will fall upon Mrs Avery and her parents, since the papers were found in Mrs Avery’s room,” Darcy sought to comfort him.
“Depart. Go to your General, return with soldiers. When you come back, we shall be gone. You may say that friends brought you intelligence concerning her family.”
“I would like to save her,” he murmured. “She is not wicked, only shaped by this wretched family.”
“You may be right; yet it is better not to see her again. Leave it to the General to decide.”
The colonel hid his face in his hands, then looked at Darcy. “It is torment indeed to be betrayed by the woman one loves.”
“I can well imagine it,” Darcy said.
“They may tell lies about me.”
“Yes, but your superiors will believe you—a gentleman of an ancient English family, and an officer without stain,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, once more the lady is right. They will trust you.”
They rose, and, in a sudden impulse, the colonel clasped Elizabeth in his arms. “Thank you, dear cousin. Thank you!”
“You must rather thank her sister, Miss Mary. But I trust you will not do so in the same manner. She is a shy young lady.”
With this almost playful remark, they parted. The colonel took the papers and even the bottle of perfume and hurried away. Still, first, he summoned his aide and ordered that they should remain to watch over the two ladies until his return.
“Permit them no conversation together, and be vigilant. They are dangerous persons.”
Then he mounted his horse and vanished into the darkness.