“Fred,” Nicholas called as his brother passed the door to his office. He had left it open with the intent of catching his brother before the good-for-nothing could slip away to participate in some other form of self-created sport. Nicholas closed his eyes and rubbed his right temple as his brother entered the room. There was a pain beginning to thrum just there. “Whittemore, too,” he added without opening his eyes. He waved his free hand toward the chairs in front of his desk. “Close the door and sit.”
At the soft tick of the door latching, he opened his eyes and shook his head. The pair settling uneasily into the chair before him had not been at Rosemoore for four days yet and already he wished them gone. “I have had two unpleasant calls today.”
Fred cast a glance at Whit before cocking his head to the side and feigning nonchalance. Nicholas could tell that his brother was not completely at ease because he was not slouching. Fred and Whit were both perfectly seated — backs erect, feet firmly planted on the floor, hands clasped loosely in their laps. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed them. The information he had received must be true. He drew a breath and released it loudly, doing little to dispel the frustration he felt. Being sent home from school and damaging a curricle paled in Nicholas’ mind compared to endangering the life of a young lady.
“Mr. Elbeck’s man delivered my order. I understand business is brisk this time of year with preparations by many for Christmas celebrations and visits by family.” He stopped and drew another deep breath in an effort to keep his emotions regulated. “And yet, in the midst of holiday preparations and good will, someone in a fine carriage had the audacity to fly down High Street, causing unsuspecting shoppers to scurry to safety.”
Fred pulled the corner of his lower lip between his teeth slightly — it was nearly unnoticeable unless you were watching for it as Nicholas was. It was a small admission of guilt and meant it was the rest of the story that had his brother nervous.
Nicholas lowered the volume of his voice, attempting to contain his displeasure and remain composed. “You get sent home for driving recklessly, and still you insist on behaving without thought?”
“I drove a bit fast.” Fred shrugged a shoulder as if it were not a matter of significance.
“Perhaps on a road that is not crossed by ladies on their way to order supplies for their households!” Nicholas rose from his chair, the anger he had felt upon hearing that his brother had endangered the life of anyone, let alone a lady like Mary Bennet, finally defeating his resolve to remain calm.
“Everyone is well,” Fred argued weakly.
“No thanks to you!” Nicholas snapped. “What if Miss Mary had not been able to scamper across the street as quickly as she did? Then what?”
“But she did.” Fred crossed his arms and gave his brother his best defiant stare.
“You are fortunate,” growled Nicholas. The muscles of his arms and back clenched tightly against the urge to pluck his careless brother from his chair and … well, he was not sure what he would do once he had his hands on his brother, but he knew it would not be pleasant. He had not been this angry with Fred in quite some time, if ever. And so to keep from doing as he wished, Nicholas clasped his hands behind his back as he leaned against his desk in front of Fred. “However, I am uncertain as to whether or not you can be trusted with any vehicle.”
Fred felt the threat and shifted uneasily beneath his brother’s glare. “Luck tends to favour me.”
“Yes, I suppose it does, although it would not need to favour you so often if you would think before acting.” Nicholas held up his hand to forestall any reply. “Let me clarify. If you would think of anything or anyone other than yourself and your own pleasure.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Mr. Halward was my second caller today. He tells me that four young men — one being my brother — were riding in one of his fields. Let me remind you that Halward does not approve of trespassing. He called to inform me that he will shoot the man or horse that does so again.” He shook his head. Mr. Halward was a gruff old man with little tolerance for foolishness of any sort. It was something Fred should know since his leg bore a scar given to him by one of Halward’s dogs. “Not mortally he assures me; however, his eyesight is not what it once was.”
“We can ride elsewhere,” said Whit.
Nicholas nodded. As much as he wished to be rid of both Fred and Whit, he did not want them injured or worse. “That would be wise.” He tipped his head. “You may wish to inform your friends as well — and stay off of Bennet’s property. Rosemoore has fields enough for a good gallop as well as a hedge or two for jumping. There is no need to stray onto other land.”
After both men had assured him they would ride only on Rosemoore’s land, Nicholas dismissed them. So far, no one had been injured nor had Nicholas been asked to pay a new bill, so, no matter how much he might wish to rant and rail at them, there was not much left about which to scold them. He prayed it would remain so as he pulled his last account book for the day in front of him and with a sigh, began his review of the numbers. These were numbers that a wife should be checking, but as long as his brother and father continued to be foolish, a wife was not yet a luxury he could afford. Dresses, hats, children — unfortunately for him, marriage was too expensive a venture at present.
He twirled his pen in his hand and allowed himself a few moments to consider what having a wife and children might be like at this time of year. Greenery would fill the sitting room. Giggles of children excited over gifts and treats would echo in the halls. He smiled — and kissing boughs would hang in doorways, and he would see to it that a sprig of mistletoe would be in his drawer so that when Mrs. Hammond brought these accounts to him for review, he would have an excuse to ignore the numbers for a moment or two. He sighed. The thoughts were lovely, but they were merely a dream at present. Maybe in the new year he could find a way to increase his holdings enough to make it a possibility.
Of course, funds would still need to be available to care for his relations, so the lady he chose to marry would have to be frugal and sensible. This thought caused him to frown at first. A frugal and sensible wife did not sound like one that would be pleasant or pretty; however, as the lovely face of a very sensible young lady came to mind, a smile replaced his frown for a moment as he pondered the thought of her sitting beside him. It was a thought that he found quite pleasant, if he was to be honest, but since she did not have a fortune, and his holdings were not what he wished them to be, such a contemplation was out of the question at present. Maybe if he did well for two years…he pushed the distraction of Mary Bennet from his mind and turned it back to the numbers before him.
An hour later, as his stomach rumbled telling him that it was nearly time for dinner, he stacked his books neatly on his desk, tidied up his papers, and tucked his pen and ink into a drawer. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, and after closing the study door, he tossed it over his arm and proceeded toward the stairs.
“You did not see her as I did,” Nicholas heard Fred say as he passed the library. The comment caused him to stop outside the door and lean against the wall. This was often how he had learned things about his brother. Nicholas’s footsteps were soft, and Fred was careless about closing doors.
“Before she put her bonnet back on, she took down her hair. Brown waves of the finest chocolate, Whit, that is what it was. And as she ran her fingers through it, I could think of nothing more than doing the same with mine.”
Whit laughed. “You’ll not have any luck with her. She did not look pleased by you at all. She is far too sensible, Fred.”
Fred sighed loudly. “But her curves, Whit — thin waist, round hips and –”
There was a snicker from Whit. “Enjoyed helping her mount your horse?”
“I would enjoy helping her mount more than my horse.”
Nicholas clenched his jaw and barely held himself in his place against the urge to throttle Fred when both men inside the room laughed heartily at the comment. To speak of a young woman in such a fashion was beyond the pale!
“She’s not a shopkeeper’s daughter, Fred,” Whit cautioned. “Dallying with a gently bred lady is not wise. It often leads to marriage.”
Fred sighed loudly. “I suppose her stern looks would grate eventually, causing the pleasure of her charms to wane.”
“Wickham said her younger sisters are just as charming and much less austere. Although, it did sound as if we would need to convince them that gentleman’s clothing is preferable to a uniform.”
Nicholas’ breath caught in his chest. They were not speaking of Miss Mary were they?
Fred agreed with this statement and then added, “At least there are two sisters so we will not have to battle each other.”
“So, we will make a visit to Longbourn tomorrow then?” inquired Whit.
Nicholas closed his eyes as his heart sank at the realization that his brother was indeed speaking of Miss Mary.
“We haven’t had an introduction,” said Fred.
“No, but Wickham has.”
“Do you think he will help us?”
Whit laughed. “He thinks he is beyond competition with his easy manners and uniform. He’ll have no idea he is assisting us. Especially if you hint that it is the stern sister you wish to see undone.”
Nicholas pushed himself off the wall and down the hall toward the stairs. “I’ll take my meal in my room,” he said to Mr. Fraser. Nicholas could not bear to look at his brother after hearing such a conversation. Surely, Miss Mary would not fall for a foolish pup like Fred. She knew of his reckless nature. Yes, he assured himself, she would be safe. Her sisters, however, were not so sensible. This thought caused him to stop on the stairs. He turned to go back down and confront his brother, but thinking better of it, he resumed his path to his room. It was often not best to act in haste. Words would be flung about, and Fred would likely become defiant out of spite. Standing in the place of a father to one’s brother was no easy task. It was even more challenging when one’s father was still quite alive since his presence negated any authority one might attempt to wield to curb reckless behaviour in a significant fashion. Nicholas would think on it tonight, and tomorrow, if Fred and Whit went calling at Longbourn, he would join them.
Perhaps he could speak to Mr. Bennet — no, he shook his head as he entered his room. Mr. Bennet was a pleasant enough fellow, but he did not appear to be the sort that would be overset by some young bucks wishing to call on his daughters. He would likely wave away the concern that anything untoward would happen, and Mrs. Bennet — Nicholas shook his head and rolled his eyes — she would assist his brother in compromising her daughter if it meant another one of them was married off.
He rang the bell for Walters to assist him in changing into riding clothes. A short ride toward Netherfield to look at that land — he paused, his shirt hanging half over his head — Bingley or Darcy — he would speak to them. They were both men of sense and would likely understand the danger. Could he call on them this evening? He would be riding in that direction.
“Are you stuck, sir.” Walters chuckled as he tugged the shirt the rest of the way off of his master.
“Lost in thought,” Nicholas replied. “Do you suppose it would be too late to call on a gentleman you are little known to after dinner if you felt you had something rather urgent to share?”
“I could not say,” replied Walters.
“You can say,” retorted Nicholas.
“Very well. I should hope to see this gentleman on my ride, sir, so that I might not have to guess at what a particular gentleman would find acceptable or not.”
“You know you are of very little use,” muttered Nicholas.
“I could not say, sir,” replied Walters. “However, had I not appeared when I did, you might still be stuck in your shirt.”
“I should sack you,” Nicholas said with a laugh, “but I dare say I could not find a man of your caliber, such that it is, to replace you at the salary I give.”
“I could not say, sir,” replied Walters.
Nicholas chuckled. Walters was a good man who was willing to say only as much as necessary and never carried a morsel of news to the rest of the house or neighbourhood. Such loyalty was not something Nicholas would dismiss on a whim. He allowed Walters to finish his job and then settled into a chair with a book to wait for his dinner to arrive.
“Where will you be riding, sir?” Walters paused at the door, Nicholas’ soiled clothes draped across his arms.
“If I do not return, send the search party toward Netherfield. There is a piece of land I wish to look at once again before I approach Bingley.” He knew he did not need to explain his reasons to the man, but Walters was trustworthy and the closest thing he had to a confidant.
“I have heard below stairs that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy often ride after dinner, sir. It is suspected that it is to get away from the sisters.” A small smile tipped up the corners of Walter’s mouth.
“I shall bear that in mind,” replied Nicholas. Perhaps, it would not only be his brother that luck would favour.
But as luck would have it, Nicholas returned from his ride without having seen either of the gentlemen he wished to see. However, he was not entirely outside of luck’s circle of friends, for just past midnight, when Nicholas was just beginning to fall asleep, rain began falling and continued for the entirety of the next day, confining his brother to the house.