Chapter 3

Richard took a last look at the lovely Miss Bennet, who was dissolving into tears on the bench next to Mrs. Jenkinson. He shook his head. How had a simple explanation of a supposed engagement gone so painfully wrong? He headed toward the stables. He knew his cousin would wish to ride away his troubles.

“Darcy!” he called as he neared the stables where Darcy stood waiting for a groom to bring him his horse.

“Go away, Richard,” Darcy growled.

“No.” Richard grabbed Darcy by the arm and started propelling him away from the stables.

Darcy pulled away, trying to extricate it from Richard’s hold. “Richard, I am going riding.”

“You are not dressed for it.  The fit of your jacket alone will surely make you regret the ride later if you go as you are.”

“I am going riding,” Darcy growled. He broadened his stance, making it harder for his cousin to pull him from his spot.

“No, you are not.” Richard’s tone had turned hard. He glared at his cousin and tightened his grip on Darcy’s arm. “We need to talk.”

“I do not wish to talk.” Darcy once again tried to pull his arm from Richard’s grip.

“That does not signify.”

“Remove your hand from my person.”

“I will not until you have agreed to come with me and talk.”

Darcy scowled at Richard. “I shall agree to no such thing, and you will remove your hand.”

Richard noted Darcy’s balled fist and released Darcy’s arm. “Go ahead. Take a swing at me. See if that lessens the pain and anger you feel or increases it.” He braced himself as he watched Darcy’s eyes flash. “I shall not stop you. You have my leave to hit me.” He clasped his hands behind his back.

Darcy glowered at him for a moment longer before turning away. “I do not wish to harm you.”

Richard took a step closer so that his chest nearly touched Darcy’s shoulder. “But you do wish to harm someone. Who? And why?”

Darcy glanced over his shoulder and took a step away from his cousin. “I do not wish to speak of it. Leave me.”

“I will not, and you know it.” Richard stepped closer to him once again.

Darcy’s shoulders sagged. “Can you not let me ride?”

“Ha. Leave you alone when you are in such a state? I think not.” Richard crossed his arms over his chest. “I did that last summer, and do you remember how that ended?” Richard thought of the state in which he had found his cousin after George Wickham’s attempted seduction of Darcy’s sister, Georgiana.

It had been a fearful sight to behold! His steadfast, composed cousin had a split lip and black eye from one too many sessions at Gentleman Jackson’s, smelled strongly of alcohol, and appeared to have been wearing the same clothes for days. Richard knew that his cousin’s uncharacteristic behaviour was an attempt to rid himself of the guilt he felt over not protecting his sister ─ an unfounded guilt. Darcy had a penchant for feeling the weight of errors more deeply than most.

“This is not the same,” protested Darcy.

Richard laughed. “You are right. Your guilt last summer was misplaced.”

Darcy grimaced.

“Today, I would venture to guess the lion’s share of the guilt should rest firmly on your shoulders. I will not let you avoid it, nor will I help you destroy yourself because of it.” Richard placed a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “Come. We will walk, and you will talk. Then, we will decide how you are going to right your wrongs without doing harm to your person.”

~*~*~

Three hours later it was a calmer Darcy and a less emotional Elizabeth who entered the dining room at Rosings. Tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Martin Barrows of Ravinwood Manor, their younger son Mr. Christopher Barrows, and his sister Miss Abigail Barrows, were in attendance.

Anne’s nerves were on edge as she watched her mother take her seat at the far end of the table. She hoped that her mother would hold her tongue and not let any comment slip regarding their disagreement. She knew it would not be an obvious remark; her mother was too well-bred to air grievances in front of guests, but she was skilled at the covert jibe ─ a raised brow, a slight inflection, an added emphasis on a word here and there. Anne had observed and endured it for years. There was always some sort of disparagement that her mother would impart in such a fashion when in company. But, tonight she feared that the majority of this ridicule would fall on her instead of their guests.

To add to her discomfort, she knew that Mrs. Barrows was not ignorant of her mother’s methods of censure. Lady Catherine and Mrs. Barrows had been friends for many years, both having come out in the same season and being fortunate enough to have married men of wealth whose estates were situated so near each other.

Anne smiled through dinner, keeping Miss Elizabeth occupied with conversation and doing her best to ignore the particular inflection that her mother was placing on the word disappointment tonight. Indeed, it was astonishing how many times her mother had managed to work that one word into every conversation she had. Had Anne not been the source of the disappointment, she might have been impressed by her mother’s skill, but as it was, Anne only felt its sting.

“Miss de Bourgh,” said Charlotte quietly as they rose to retire to the drawing room. “May I have a word with you?”

Anne gave a slight nod and led Charlotte to one of three alcoves in the room.

“I was watching Elizabeth during dinner. She does not seem herself. She pushed her food around her plate; her eyes only left their downward gaze when spoken to directly; and she never truly entered into any conversation ─ there was no debate, no levity ─ it is quite unlike her. Is she well? I would ask her, but I know she shall say she is well, even if she is not.”

Anne glanced around the room. She took note of how Elizabeth sat silently near Miss Barrow, who was in animated conversation. “Her spirits are low.” Anne sighed. “Much has transpired this afternoon and not all of it ─ well, nearly none of it, actually ─ has been pleasant.” Anne dropped her voice to be even softer. “I spoke to my mother of my father’s wishes. While I spoke to her, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I arranged for Mr. Darcy to walk with Elizabeth in the garden. We had hoped he would explain about his supposed engagement to me.”

Charlotte placed a hand on Anne’s arm. “They argued?”

Anne nodded. “I am afraid they did. Injurious words were spoken on both sides, and it took the better part of the afternoon to calm them. Instead of securing their happiness, which was our plan, it seems we have been the cause of great agony.”

“But they are calm now,” said Charlotte with a smile. “That means Elizabeth is now in the process of evaluating her words, and her silence means she is seeing her own errors. We need but a small opportunity for an apology, and happiness will be back within the realm of possibility.”

Anne furrowed her brow. “Are you certain?”

Charlotte laughed softly. “It is how Elizabeth has always behaved. Her anger or hurt often overtake her sense and her tongue. I have witnessed it ─ nay, have been a recipient of it on more than one occasion. At home in Hertfordshire, she would wander off into the wilderness and then return with her sense restored and repentance on her lips.”

“But we are in company.” Anne looked around at the number gathered. “The gentlemen shall rejoin us shortly, but I do not see how we can provide for such an opportunity with so many gathered. And my mother, should she suspect what is happening ─.”

“Anne, of what are you and Mrs. Collins speaking? I must know. It is quite disappointing to be excluded from your conversation.” Lady Catherine called.

Anne turned and smiled as sweetly as she could at her mother. “Pray forgive us. It is but a trivial and personal matter. I assure you we are not sharing secrets of great significance.” She bit back a smile of triumph as she watched her mother’s eyes narrow slightly.

“Oh,” said Miss Barrows as if she had suddenly been poked with a stick. “Miss de Bourgh, could we not play a parlour game? The gentlemen shall be joining us soon, and if we do not entertain them with music or games, they shall wander off again to find their own amusements, and conversation is ever so much more pleasant when there are gentlemen involved.”

Anne gave the young lady an appraising look. It had not escaped her notice how Miss Barrows batted her eyes at both Darcy and Richard. “Perhaps you could take a turn on the pianoforte so that the music will draw them into the room, and then we can discuss the possibility of games.”

Miss Barrows fairly glowed with pleasure. “Oh, but I know the exact game we should play.”

“I do not play games,” said Lady Catherine.

“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Barrows. “It would be much more sensible to just entertain with music, my dear.”

Anne noted the small pout that started to form on Miss Barrows’s lips and felt Charlotte’s light pat on her arm.

“Miss de Bourgh,” said Charlotte. “Could not those who wish to play a game gather on the far side of the room, while those of us who do not remain here. I am sure my husband will be happy to have me play for him, and then we shall have both music and games?” She gave Anne a significant look.

“Mrs. Collins, that is an excellent idea!” Anne stood. “Miss Barrows, you shall take your turn at the instrument first. Then, we shall play your game while Mrs. Collins has her turn. Perhaps afterward, you might exhibit for us some more?” This last comment brought a pleased smile to Mrs. Barrows’s face. Obviously, the girl’s mother was eager to have her daughter brought to the attention of one and all.

Miss Barrows took her turn on the pianoforte as the gentlemen entered the room and found their places in one of the two groups. Darcy hesitated in his decision for a moment until Richard pointed out that refusing to play games meant an extended conversation with not only his aunt but also her parson. So it was that Darcy took his seat in the game circle.

“Abigail,” said her brother. “I have saved you a seat.” Mr. Christopher Barrows moved one chair away from Darcy as he stood to extend his hand to his sister.

Richard fought the urge to roll his eyes at such an obvious tactic. “And what is the game you wish to play, Miss Barrows?” he asked.

“Oh, it is called Three Wishes.”

“I have not heard of that game,” said Richard.

“Oh, no, you would not have, for it is a game that my school friends and I created. It is ever such a good way to learn about people.” She smiled at him.

“Then, you must inform us of the rules.”

Miss Barrows sat a bit straighter and lifted her chin. “We shall go around the circle, and each person will share a wish. The first go round we may only wish for something to give to another. On your second turn, you must only wish for some object for yourself. Your third wish must be a character wish. You must wish for one thing which you think is lacking in your character. I shall start, then my brother, then Miss de Bourgh and so on until we have completed the circle and begin again.” She glanced around to see if there were any remaining questions before she began.

~*~*~

“Miss Bennet, it is your turn,” said Miss Barrows on the third pass around the circle. “You must tell us a character wish.”

Elizabeth lifted her eyes and smiled at Miss Barrows. “I wish for my sister’s serenity and gentleness of spirit.”

“You must explain why,” prompted Miss Barrows.

“I lack a calmness of spirit. I wish for the ability to keep my emotions under regulation at all times.”

“But would it not then be difficult for others to know what you are feeling? Surely too much serenity could lead to difficulties of misunderstanding,” Miss Barrows questioned.

“It may,” replied Elizabeth. “It may also lead to disappointment, but a lack of peace coupled with a spirit lacking in gentleness can lead to a far greater amount of pain. I have often become overwrought, and I can assure you that doing so can lead to hurt and shame.”

“Shame?”

“Yes, Miss Barrows. One tends to feel shame when one has spoken without thought and with unbridled passion.”

Miss Barrows opened her mouth to question further, but Richard swiftly moved in and shared his character wish.

“Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Barrows sweetly. “What is your character wish?”

“You may be asking too much of my cousin, Miss Barrows,” said Richard. lightly. “He is a man who has few character flaws.” Richard gave his cousin a teasing smile.

Darcy scowled at him. “My cousin jests. I have many flaws. There is not one of us perfect, but Colonel Fitzwilliam is correct in that sharing such flaws is not something I do easily. Perhaps that should be my wish.”

“Is it your wish, Mr. Darcy?” asked Miss Barrows.

He shook his head. “No, my wish is for eloquence.”

“Eloquence?” said several in unison.

Darcy nodded.

“But, Darcy,” said Richard, “I have heard your ability to instruct your steward; I have heard you debate many a complex topic with my father; and I cannot say with good conscience that you lack in eloquence. Unless you have a plausible explanation for your choice, you will have to make another wish.”

“I do not speak of an eloquence of thought,” replied Darcy.  “I speak of an eloquence of the heart. What you have said is true. I have a vast amount of knowledge gleaned from years of learning, and I do possess the ability to debate and instruct.  However, I lack the ability possessed by the poet. I cannot speak things as I feel them. Indeed, I often lack the ability to listen to my heart.” He shifted his gaze from Richard to Elizabeth. “And this lack of ability has led me, on more than one occasion, to injure those I love.”

Richard cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I withdraw my objection. Your wish is valid, Darcy.” He leaned a bit forward both to look around his cousin to Miss Barrows and to, hopefully, afford Elizabeth some measure of privacy. “Miss Barrows, did I hear that you were scheduled to entertain us with your musical abilities? If so, might I escort you to the instrument?” He stood and offered her his arm.

“Miss Bennet?” Anne leaned a bit closer. “I believe I would very much like to take a stroll to the library. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”

Elizabeth tore her eyes away from Mr. Darcy. “It would be my pleasure, Miss de Bourgh.”

“Darcy, your arm would be a most welcome support.” Anne rose and stood expectantly before her cousin.

“Of course.” He looked to Elizabeth. “I have two arms.”

Elizabeth blushed but placed her hand on his free arm. The threesome proceeded to make a turn around the sitting room before exiting through the far door as Richard made a show of helping Miss Barrows get situated at the instrument.

Anne dropped Darcy’s arm as soon as they had reached the library and found a single chair tucked away in a tight corner. She picked up a book from the small round table which stood next to the chair. “Darcy,” she cautioned, “choose your words wisely, for I shall not afford you another moment of privacy with Miss Bennet if you upset her again.” She waited for him to give a nod of acknowledgment before turning her attention to her book.

Anne bent her head over the book, but her eyes followed the progression of Darcy and Elizabeth as they moved to a nearby sitting area. She strained to hear their lowered voices.

“Mr. Darcy,” began Elizabeth. “I must apologize for my intemperate speech earlier today. I allowed –.”

“Your head to be controlled by your heart. That is not something for which you need apologize,” Darcy interrupted.

“I, on the other hand,” he continued, “tried to control my heart with my head. That is by far a more grievous offense. My sentiments were not expressed as they should have been.” He looked down at his hands, which were nervously rubbing small circles on his knees.

Elizabeth placed her hands on his to stop their motion. “My heart has pondered your words, sir, and I believe it has finally heard what you were attempting to say.”

Anne turned an unread page and shifted slightly in her chair.

“Despite your misgivings,” said Elizabeth, “despite your machinations to rid your life of all evidence of me, you could not, for your heart would not allow it.”

Darcy grasped her hands in his. “I know you have little reason to think highly of me. I have behaved abominably.”

“And I have not?” Elizabeth asked. “I, who willingly, determinedly, believed the worst of you without evidence?” She shook her head. “We have both behaved in a shameful fashion. You have been proud, and I have been prejudiced. Neither of us has much good to recommend ourselves to the other. We must begin again.”

“I should like that, but there are words which were spoken which we must address.”

Elizabeth sighed. “You are right. There are matters we must necessarily discuss, but perhaps we will do so with a better understanding of the other person.”

“But not tonight,” said Darcy.  “Tonight I only wish to know that you are willing to consider me. Have I any hope of success?”

Anne held her breath and stilled the page she was about to turn as she listened for Elizabeth’s reply. An impertinent smile graced her friend’s face, and a twinkle of mischief shone in her eye. Anne released her breath and flipped the page.

“I have no doubt you are successful in most things, are you not, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth raised a brow and tilted her head slightly, giving him a playful look. “I have no reason to believe you shall not also succeed in this.”

Richard slipped into the library and approached Anne from behind. He smiled as he saw Elizabeth blush slightly when his cousin kissed each of her hands. Gingerly, Richard grasped the little curl that always hung in front of Anne’s ear and gave it a slight pull. Anne jumped and let out a little squeal.

“Your mother is beginning to question your disappearance and longing for Miss Bennet to exhibit. I believe she grows tired of Miss Barrows’s limited repertoire.”

Anne snapped her book shut. “That is no reason to disturb my reading in such a fashion.”

Richard chuckled softly. “Reading?” He reached down and took the book from her hands, turning it right ways up before returning it to her. Anne’s cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of crimson, and she quickly laid the book on the table.

“Come.” Taking her hand, Richard helped Anne to her feet and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “We must return without delay.”