Page 29 of What Comes Between Cousins

F ITZWILLIAM WAS NOTHING less than an idiot. But he was a useful one. When he had left the barracks, Wickham had had no notion of seeing the man in Meryton and approaching him had been the impulse of a moment. Wickham did not know whether his gambit had any real effect, but it would at least add to the man’s confusion. At present, Wickham had more important matters to consider.

As he had known they would, the men assigned to watch him were less diligent after a few days of nothing happening. This worked to Wickham’s advantage, for when the time came to depart, he would find it easier to give them the slip and make his retreat. But before he could do so, he had business to finish, business which would end being very profitable, both for his purse, and in . . . other benefits. It was truly unfortunate he was forced to deal with a fool and a termagant to get what he wanted.

Collins was waiting for him as usual, taking care not to be seen. As well he should—Darcy and Mr. Bennet would not be pleased to learn the parson was still in the area. He was as foppish as ever, his lank, greasy hair plastered against his head, as if he was sweating, even in the middle of winter. What an odd creature he was. But his stupidity worked to Wickham’s advantage, for it was nothing to mislead him in any way Wickham chose.

“We need to make our move soon, Collins,” said Wickham without preamble. “It is nearing the time for me to depart from Meryton. If Lady Catherine wishes my assistance, she had best make her decision now.”

“Lady Catherine is not to be dictated to by the likes of you,” replied Collins with an arrogant sniff. “It is a privilege to assist her in whatever matter she requires of us.”

“You are her parson, are you not?”

Collins puffed himself up with pride. “I am. Lady Catherine chose me among many candidates for the position. I am her most trusted advisor.”

Wickham almost laughed in the man’s face. The only reason Lady Catherine had chosen such a toadying worm as Collins was because she surrounded herself by those who would never dream of disagreeing with her.

“But you have a home, a roof over your head, and a steady income. I am willing to help Lady Catherine obtain that which she desires, but I cannot live on her ladyship’s good will alone. If she wishes my help, she will meet my price.”

“You should be happy to serve!”

“Altruism is well and good, but a man needs to make his way in the world.”

A sniff of disdain met Wickham’s words. “You have no need to worry. Lady Catherine had agreed to pay you what you want.”

“Excellent,” exulted Wickham. He had known all along how it would be. Darcy and Pemberley were far too great a prize for Lady Catherine to refuse to pay him, though it had taken longer to persuade her than Wickham might have thought. Now it was done, and they could move on with their plans.

“Then we will proceed as soon as is practicable. When we are finished with them, no one of any reputation will marry Miss Elizabeth, and Darcy will go crawling to Lady Catherine for permission to marry her daughter.”

An unpleasant smile of glee was Collins’s response. “I shall inform Lady Catherine.”

“A piece of advice, Collins.” The parson turned and directed a questioning glance at Wickham. “Please ensure Lady Catherine understands that she needs to leave this matter strictly to us. No word of our agreement should make it back to those at Netherfield, else all will be ruined.”

“I will tell her,” replied the parson, and then he was gone.

Wickham then left himself, knowing he would only have so long before he was missed. The sweet scent of revenge was filling his nostrils. He could hardly wait.

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T HAT NIGHT THE EVENT for which they had all been waiting took place.

“We are to be brothers, my friend!” said an irrepressible Bingley, raising his glass in a toast. “It is not in the manner which Caroline always wished, but I am quite happy whether she appreciates the irony or not.”

“We shall be indeed,” said Darcy, raising his glass to his friend before sipping from it. “Though I have nothing but a courtship at present, I am confident in my eventual success. I cannot but feel we are the luckiest men alive.”

“Here, here! I will own, however, that I am surprised you decided to pursue Miss Elizabeth. She is everything lovely and more than a match for you, I dare say, but I had thought your fastidious nature might get the better of you.”

“It very nearly did,” said Darcy, thinking about his conversations with Fitzwilliam soon after they had arrived. Though his annoyance with his cousin had not dissipated in the slightest, he knew he owed much to Fitzwilliam for setting him straight. Darcy might have dismissed the notion of an alliance with Miss Elizabeth out of hand, had Fitzwilliam not opened his eyes.

“Was it merely my imagination,” asked Bingley, pulling Darcy from his thoughts, “or did Fitzwilliam look on you with less heat tonight?”

“I noticed the same,” said Darcy. “It may just be my imagination, but he appeared more pensive than anything.”

“’It has been hard, I suppose. I hope you do not lose your closeness because of this. It would be a shame, considering how close you have always been.”

“Indeed,” replied Darcy, though he could hardly hear his own words.

“Do you know where he went after dinner?”

Darcy looked up. “The billiards room, I assume. I think Hurst joined him.”

“He has been wearing out the balls on the billiards table these past days,” replied Bingley. “I have never seen him play so much.”

“Nor have I. But it keeps him occupied. I have not the stomach for his poor mood or his injured silences.”

“I understand, my friend.”

They sat speaking in a desultory fashion for some time, though both were more engaged in their own thoughts than in exchanging words. When they had been there for some time, Darcy began to give thought to retiring to his room for the night. His thoughts were interrupted by an urgent knocking on the door.

When Bingley gave permission to enter, his eldest sister hurried into the room. Her distress was evident for them both to see.”

“Charles, you must come now!”

Bingley paled and shared a glance with Darcy, who knew they were both thinking the same thing.

“Please, Charles, we must hurry!”

“Mrs. Hurst,” said Darcy, rising to speak to the distressed woman. “You can trust in my secrecy. Your brother has already shared your suspicions with me. Has your sister made her move?”

Though Mrs. Hurst regarded him with shock, she soon gathered her wits and nodded. “The housekeeper reported to me this afternoon that Caroline had requested keys for various chambers. Her maid has just informed me that she was dismissed for the evening and instructed to go to Lord Chesterfield’s room after the viscount retired for the evening, no doubt to catch them in flagrante . As his lordship’s man has been dismissed for the night, I have no doubt she is making the attempt even as we speak.”

The dismissal of his valet was a legacy of Fitzwilliam’s time in the army. He maintained he was well able to remove his own clothes, and as such, his valet usually did not attend him until the morning. Miss Bingley had obviously become aware of this fact and was now using it to her advantage.

“It is good Miss Bingley’s maid is not nearly as loyal as Miss Bingley believes,” commented Darcy.

Bingley snorted. “Loyalty has nothing to do with it. I bribed her. Let us go and put an end to Caroline’s scheming.”

Darcy shot a look at his friend, noting the grimness of Bingley’s countenance. This matter had the potential of ruining him forever, and perhaps ending his own engagement. Darcy was heartened to see his friend act with the decisiveness he knew was warranted in this situation.

They left Bingley’s study and quickly made their way back to the entrance hall and the stairs to the second floor. As they passed the billiards room, they stopped and listened to the clacking of the balls for a moment, confirming that Fitzwilliam was still there, before proceeding above stairs. In a moment, they were standing in front of the door to Fitzwilliam’s suite of rooms.

“I will lead,” said Bingley, and he opened the door, not waiting for an answer. The room inside was lit with a selection of candles, and a small fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the room for when its inhabitant would return to prepare for the evening. Bingley ignored all this, moving to the door to the bedroom.

When Bingley opened the door, Darcy noted that the room within was dark, with nary a candle lit, nor a fire in the hearth. As Bingley entered, the light of the candle he held spilled into the room, illuminating it in a dim light, and chasing the shadows to the corners of the room. There, in the bed, on the far wall, lay Miss Bingley, her seductive smile of triumph changing to a gasp of mortified surprise.

“Charles!” shrieked she. “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask the same thing of you, Caroline,” snapped Bingley. “Unless my memory is deficient, I do not think this is your room.”

For once, Miss Bingley had no reply to her brother’s implacable question; Darcy thought it was the first time he had ever seen the woman at a loss for words. The longer Bingley stood and stared at her the more uncomfortable she became, her jaw working with no sound emerging and the light of panic shining in her eyes.

“Let us get you to your own room, Caroline,” said Mrs. Hurst. “I think it is time we spoke about your future.”

“Yes, it is,” growled Bingley. As Mrs. Hurst helped her sister from the bed, and into the robe she had thrown with careless disinterest over a nearby chair, Charles, so furious now that he was stalking in front of the door with disgust, turned on her again. “This is the end, Caroline. I will no longer be responsible for you. I will arrange for you to go stay with Aunt Amelia. Perhaps she will have some success in reforming your character, for I certainly have not.”

Miss Bingley gasped. “You cannot send me to the hinterlands of the kingdom! I will not tolerate it!”

“You will do what you are told, dearest sister !” Miss Bingley gasped at the disgust dripping from Charles’s tone, and Darcy himself was surprised to hear it. “I still control your dowry until you are five and twenty and as of this moment I am revoking your allowance. I will not have you in my house accosting my guests, spewing your vile slander on my neighbors, or attempting to compromise a viscount who is staying with me.

“How could you, Caroline?” yelled Bingley. “Do you care nothing for the credit of our family? You, who have always been so keen to climb society’s ladder. Your actions might have seen us banished from society forever!”

Miss Bingley found a little of her spirit. “I am not the one who offered for an unsuitable country adventuress!”

“At least I offered for her, rather than resorting to compromising her!” Bingley glared at his sister, who returned it in full measure. “You have become a stranger, Caroline, though I will own that I never truly knew you. I have no faith in your ability to treat my future wife with the respect she deserves, and as such, I have no choice but to banish you from my home forever. The only place you can go is to Aunt Amelia.”

“I will live with Louisa,” snapped Miss Bingley. “She will not betray me as you have done.”

“No, Caroline,” said Mrs. Hurst. “I will not allow it, and even if I was amenable, Hurst would not be. We have had enough of your airs and your ill humors and your cutting remarks. And we do not wish to support someone who could behave in so dreadful a manner.”

The look with which Miss Bingley regarded her siblings was filled with horror. But at that moment, they were all interrupted by the sound of a voice none of them wished to hear.

“What is the meaning of this?”

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H URST TRULY WAS NOT a bad companion at times, Fitzwilliam decided. The two men had spent the evening in the billiards room, but as the night had deepened, so had their consumption of the fine brandy Bingley kept in the room. When they finally quit it for their beds, Fitzwilliam felt himself to be pleasantly half-sprung. For once, however, Hurst was not completely foxed, though he was in much the same state as Fitzwilliam.

When they entered the corridor above stairs, however, both noticed a commotion in one of the rooms, and it was with a start that Fitzwilliam realized it was his rooms. A quick step took him to the door and he passed through it, noting that there were several figures in the door of his bedchamber.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded he, stepping forward, only wobbling a little because of his state.

At once, four sets of eyes found Fitzwilliam’s: Darcy and Bingley turned and regarded him without emotion, while Mrs. Hurst squeaked and jumped in sudden fright, fixing wild eyes upon him. The fourth person in the room, Miss Bingley, clad in nothing but a nightgown and robe, eyed him with what could only be called cunning.

“Oh, Lord Chesterfield!” cried Miss Bingley. “I was waiting here for you when these people interfered. Our assignation cannot proceed as planned. But now it seems to be a propitious time to announce our happy news to our relations.”

The implications of Miss Bingley’s speech hit Fitzwilliam like a carriage careening through the streets of London. He felt the blood run from his face at the thought of being tied to this harpy for the rest of his life.

“I have no notion of what you are speaking, Madam,” declared Fitzwilliam. The cruel smile ran away from Miss Bingley’s face. “I was never a party to an assignation, and I deny any ‘happy news,’ as you put it. I would not offer for you if you were the only woman alive!”

Shock settled over Miss Bingley’s face, and Fitzwilliam idly wondered if the woman thought her schemes would be successful merely because she planned them. What conceit this woman possessed!

“B-but, your l-lordship,” attempted she, stuttering over her words. “Surely you will not betray me in this fashion. Just because our family has not discovered it ere now, does not mean we have not come together since your coming to Netherfield.”

“Do not be ridiculous, Miss Bingley,” snapped Darcy. Fitzwilliam regarded his cousin with surprise, but Darcy only glared at the woman, his gaze filled with pitiless loathing. “Until Fitzwilliam came to Netherfield, you were fixed upon me . Will you now attempt to lie about our relationship?”

“That is enough,” said Bingley, speaking in a firmer tone than Fitzwilliam could ever remember him using. “There was no assignation with Lord Chesterfield, and there never was anything between you and Darcy, much though you wished it had been different. It is time to return to your room, Caroline. As soon as I can manage it, you are for the north and Aunt Amelia.”

The woman squawked and protested, but soon Bingley had herded her from the room in the company of his elder sister. As Fitzwilliam watched them go, he noted that Hurst had followed them into the room. He stood watching them leave, his face lightened with a truly unpleasant smile of satisfaction. When he noted Fitzwilliam watching him, Hurst laughed and shook his head.

“Well, my lord, it seems you have managed to avoid the headsman’s axe at present. You should be especially grateful—my sister-in-law possesses a singular ability to make a man miserable. I should know, for she has intruded upon my marriage since we left the church. Actually being married to Caroline would have been infinitely worse.”

“You knew what she intended?”

Hurst shrugged. “It was not difficult to guess, even if my wife had not spoken to me of her suspicions.”

Struggling, as if his head was encased in molasses, Fitzwilliam turned a glance on Darcy. Fitzwilliam scowled at his cousin.

“I suppose you were aware of this too?”

“I was,” replied Darcy, his tone short. “If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed it yourself, for Miss Bingley was entirely transparent.”

“Then why was I not told?”

“Because it was Bingley’s intention to deal with the issue and ensure you never knew about it.” Darcy turned his gaze upon Hurst. “Did you lead Fitzwilliam back here of a purpose, so that he would be aware of it?”

“I did not know it was to happen tonight,” replied Hurst, his tone entirely insouciant. “But it has occurred to me that an event of this nature might induce a little humility in your manner, Chesterfield. You have always been a good man with whom to associate. I hope this haughty behavior in which you have indulged of late does not mark a change in your character.

“Well, well, I believe it is time to retire. I wish you a good night.”

Then Hurst turned and departed, leaving a befuddled Fitzwilliam staring after him. Haughty behavior? Fitzwilliam had not the foggiest notion of what the man referred to.

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D ARCY WATCHED HIS COUSIN as Fitzwilliam stared after Hurst’s departing form. Though he wished to return to his own room, Darcy waited, for there were a few choice words he wished to direct at his cousin. But when Fitzwilliam made no indication of even remembering that Darcy was in the room, he spoke up himself.

“It is my hope as well.”

Fitzwilliam blinked and turned to Darcy, a frown settling over his countenance. “None of you are speaking sense this evening.” He paused and when he spoke again, it was clear his words were more grudging than sincere. “I suppose I must thank you for your assistance with respect to Miss Bingley. I do wonder, however, why you simply did not take the opportunity to remove me as a threat. Without my presence, you would have the field all to yourself.”

Darcy knew exactly to what his cousin was referring, and his ire exploded into a white-hot flame of anger. “Perhaps I should have just left you to your fate. Given how you have behaved of late, I declare, you and Miss Bingley deserve each other.”

The shocked expression with which Fitzwilliam regarded him touched a dark chord of amusement in Darcy, and he fixed his cousin with a cold smile. “But I am not one to behave in such a manner, regardless of how you deserve it.

“And Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy, passing by his cousin toward the door, “I do not need you out of the way. The field does not exist.”

“What?” demanded Fitzwilliam.

“Oh, yes,” replied Darcy. “Did you not know? I requested a courtship from Miss Elizabeth today, and she accepted. We now have her father’s blessing. So you see, I have no fear of your attempts to woo her. Contrary to what you might believe, I never did. If I continue to treat her with respect and show my regard for her, that courtship will become an engagement before long.”

The shock in Fitzwilliam’s countenance quickly turned to anger. “A courtship is not tantamount to an engagement.”

“And well I know it. Mr. Bennet informed me himself that he would not force his daughter in this matter. It will remain her decision. Then again, you already knew that, did you not? Mr. Bennet informed me he told you the same thing only yesterday.”

Fitzwilliam had the grace to appear a little shamefaced, but this was soon swallowed up in his continuing fury. “I cannot believe you, Darcy. I had not thought you would act in this way, to steal away a woman I wished to make my own.”

“Listen to yourself, Fitzwilliam!” exclaimed Darcy, his patience with his cousin exhausted. “Your words stink strongly of possessiveness. Do you think Miss Elizabeth wishes to be dominated?

“You know, she has informed me of your actions herself. Do you know how disgusted she has been with your behavior of late?”

“What? She has always enjoyed my company!”

“She did before you began to behave as a true member of the nobility. Did you think you deserved her simply because you outrank me? Your opinions are shocking. You have always disdained the airs of the nobility, but now you behave worse than any of them.”

Rendered speechless by Darcy’s charges, Fitzwilliam did not seem capable of mustering a response. But Darcy was not finished.

“Yes, she enjoyed your company when we first came, for you spoke to her, friendly and open as if her opinion was valued. But as I began to fall in love with her, you began to compete with me, flattering her, making her feel as if you were interested in her only because I was.

“Do you know that at Bingley’s ball she actually thought you meant to make her an offer of carte-blanche ?”

Fitzwilliam gasped. “I would never do such a thing!”

“I know that,” spat Darcy. “I informed her of it myself. But by then she had already worked out the reason for your changed behavior for herself. And if you think about it, her fears were justified. You, yourself have spoken harshly of members of your set, of their dissolute ways, gaming, wenching, keeping mistresses, of their excesses and immorality. When you suddenly began to flatter her, what else was she to think?”

“She should have thought I was interested in her as a potential wife!”

It was clear Fitzwilliam was determined to defend himself. Darcy was not about to allow him.

“Members of the nobility do not marry country misses, Fitzwilliam. It happens but rarely. She had not known you long enough to be confident of her understanding of you. Such a sudden turnabout cast aspersions on your character, and rightfully so!”

It was clear Fitzwilliam had no response to Darcy’s words. There was no defense, after all. He had been behaving the same as that which he hated. A little humility would do him no harm.

“I do not wish to argue with you, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy. “I will leave you to your thoughts. At the very least, I think you owe Miss Elizabeth an apology, especially since I fully intend to make her my wife. She will be family someday—do not forget it.”

As Darcy was departing from the room, the sound of his cousin’s voice arrested his leaving. “Surely you do not think I was contemplating offering such a disgusting position to her.”

“No, I did not,” replied Darcy. “But I know you better than she does. Or at least I thought I did.”

Then Darcy left without a backward glance.