As the carriage pulled up outside Darcy’s lodgings in Bath, Colonel Fitzwilliam detected a rise in his young cousin’s spirits, despite the onset of some inclement weather during the latter part of their journey. Though Georgiana clearly felt deeply for her brother in his disappointment, more so now that she knew its full import, he could not help but believe that this change of scene would be of aid to them all.
They stepped down onto the wet pavement and Georgiana looked about quickly before he ushered her into the shelter of the house. The building was at the end of a row of similar imposing edifices on Brock Street and had the benefit of being adjacent to some fields of grass with views over the open country that filled the area immediately below the imposing Royal Crescent, and the Colonel nodded his head in approval as he turned to follow his cousin into the house.
Darcy greeted the travellers at the door to the first-floor drawing room, a light and airy space, with windows overlooking both the front aspect and also the long walled garden at the rear.
“You have a diligent man in your valet,” the Colonel mused as he stood at one of the long windows and looked down into the street. “This is an excellent location to be secured at such short notice.” He turned away from his contemplation of the view outside and observed both of his cousins who were seated on a couch near to the fireplace.
“It is almost the end of the Season. I think Thornton was spoilt for choice, but knew that we would appreciate the proximity to open spaces.”
The Colonel grunted as he took a seat opposite his cousins. This self-imposed exile must be made to benefit them both, but Darcy in particular. He needed distraction and little opportunity to become withdrawn into himself. Thankfully, the fact that he had suggested having company so willingly hinted at his own desire to do likewise.
“And what of Aunt Catherine. You have seen her?”
“Indeed.” A frown crossed Darcy’s brow, but before the Colonel could question it, Georgiana spoke.
“Is there a problem, Brother?”
“No – no there is not. I paid a call of duty. She was much as we saw her last. They both travelled comfortably and are well situated in their usual lodgings.”
“And shall we visit with them on the morrow?” Georgiana spoke quickly, and the Colonel studied her for a moment, though it was Darcy who expressed the thought that had come instantly to mind.
“Though we are obliged, you do not normally express a desire to visit your aunt.”
Georgiana looked somewhat abashed for a moment; then, she met her brother’s eye firmly. “It is Anne that I would wish to see. I think she enjoyed our time at the pianoforte the other day; I wish to discuss music with her.”
Darcy narrowed his gaze as he studied his sister, and the Colonel observed him thoughtfully. Further discussion of Miss Elizabeth Bennet was futile, thus there was little danger in the meeting of the two cousins.
Then, Darcy nodded. “Very well. But it will have to be late morning for I have an appointment first thing at the booksellers in Stall Street.” He turned to the Colonel. “A rare first edition. Would you care to accompany me? I believe they have a substantial selection of military titles that might interest you.”
“Of course. We can return to collect you, Georgiana.”
“Mrs Annesley is due to arrive early, and we may wish to go out. Would it not be better to all meet at Aunt Catherine’s?”
The Colonel exchanged glances quickly with Darcy. This was a step forward for Georgiana and an indication of increased confidence. That she felt secure enough to arrive on a call, albeit upon relatives, with only her companion at her side was a good sign. It was therefore agreed that they would all meet at Great Pulteney Street by the hour of noon, and Georgiana then excused herself to go in search of her maid, that she might refresh herself from the journey.
No sooner had the door closed upon her, than Darcy turned to look at him, and knowing what it was he most wished to learn, the Colonel motioned that they walk over to the windows furthest from the door. For a moment, they both stared out into Brock Street. Though the rain had lessened, the pavements remained full wet and a stiff breeze continued to blow, thus no one could be seen out walking.
Throwing Darcy a quick glance, the Colonel flexed his sore right hand, still encased in a glove. “You may put your mind at rest. He is under lock and key and, last I heard from Whitehall, on his way to the Assizes in Hertford.”
A heavy sigh emanated from his cousin. “It gives me little pleasure, though there is comfort in knowing the general populace is safe from him.” Darcy frowned. “I trust there was little trouble in Meryton? I would not wish for there to be any scandal reflected upon the Bennets or their relations.”
Shaking his head, the Colonel slowly eased the glove from his hand and waved the discoloured knuckles under his cousin’s nose. “You may rest quite assured, Darce. All there was to observe was a fallen man being manhandled with little ceremony into the village lock up, and as Mr Bennet and I were able to secure the matter soon after the sun had risen, there were few witnesses to his ungainly arrival.”
A look of concern crossed Darcy’s face. “What the devil happened? And what of Bennet – all he was charged with was to forewarn his Brother Philips and keep watch on his daughters…”
The Colonel held up a hand. “Be not alarmed. I encountered the scoundrel quite by chance; there was a struggle, he was overcome. It pains me to own that Bennet struck the telling blow, but his presence eased my passage in getting Wickham locked up, so I can forego my pride in this instance.”
“And your injuries?”
“The aforementioned blow to my pride was the severest. A few bruised knuckles – which I am, of course, endeavouring to keep concealed from Georgiana – and a sore head are easily mended.”
Darcy shook his head. “You were fortunate. He would have killed you, given the opportunity.”
The Colonel nodded. “Avoiding capture was essential to him; I think he would have done for me if he could, but his aim has not improved since he was younger.”
“Was he not armed?”
Reflecting upon Wickham’s activity when he came across him, the Colonel grunted. “He had been dallying with a milkmaid, and I think he was intent upon wielding a weapon of an entirely different nature, if you take my meaning.”
A look of distaste crossed Darcy’s face. “I am relieved that you are well, and I am thankful that he is under lock and key.” He held his hand out and the Colonel shook it. “Thank you, Cousin. I am in your debt.”
Fitzwilliam laughed. “On the contrary. It gave me immeasurable satisfaction to be so actively involved in his defeat! I assure you, it is I who thanks you for the opportunity!”
Darcy smiled faintly, and turned once more to stare out of the window, and the Colonel glanced over at the clock on the mantel.
“Come – let us talk no more of the scum. His future – what is left of it – is sealed by his own hand and deed. What say you to planning our stay in Bath, that Georgiana feels the benefit of the change of scene?”
“Of course. Though I beg of you, no visits to the Upper Rooms.”
The Colonel stooped to pick up the Bath Chronicle from the table as they walked over to the chairs by the hearth and settled himself opposite his cousin.
“Honestly, Darce. With your aversion to dancing and Georgiana not yet out, do you think I would be such a simpleton as to suggest it?”
Darcy raised a brow. “I put nothing past you, Cousin.”
“Wise man. Now – what had you in mind?” The Colonel tapped the paper that rested across his knees. “There will doubtless be plenty of amusements still to partake of, despite the lateness of the Season.”
“I have a mind to take Georgiana out into the countryside. It is very pretty hereabouts, with ample fine walks to be had. What say you to a carriage ride on Saturday, should the weather bid fair?”
The Colonel turned his attention to the paper. “A good plan. We could make a day of it, if you wish. Tell me,” he raised his eyes to meet Darcy’s. “How long do you intend to tarry here? Had you given it any thought?”
Darcy nodded. “I am considering taking Georgiana on a trip further afield – perhaps Ireland.”
The Colonel frowned. “Might I enquire why?”
Running a hand through his hair, Darcy sighed. “Bingley. His intention is to secure Miss Bennet. If I am in Town, few excuses will hold sway with him over not visiting in Hertfordshire or even attending his nuptials. A valid absence will save me the pain of offending his good nature.”
“Ah. I see.”
“Precisely. I appreciate that once the connection with the Bennets is secured, I cannot guarantee that I will never cross paths with… any of the family again; yet, at this particular time…”
His thoughts had clearly meandered down another path, and the Colonel was fairly certain he could discern where they had gone – to the implications of Elizabeth’s engagement to Harington, and how soon that marriage might take place.
“But you cannot constantly be on the move, Darce.”
Darcy met the Colonel’s eye. “No – no, I understand that. But just now – in the interim – I would rather be active, doing something, going somewhere. You do comprehend?”
The Colonel nodded. “Most indubitably. I will support you in whatever decision you come to, though I will not always be at liberty to accompany you.”
“Thank you. I have set Thornton the task of investigating a sailing that I saw in the paper. It departs for Dublin on Thursday next, and I thought that we might pass the interim here.”
“It sounds a fair plan, Cousin. Let us see what intelligence he finds.”
With that, they changed the subject, and turning their attention to the Chronicle, soon identified several suitable diversions, including a recital in St Swithens at Walcot and a play at the newly restored Theatre Royal, either of which would provide entertainment and distraction enough. A concert in Sydney Gardens on Sunday, weather permitting, was also considered a possibility, and putting the paper aside, the Colonel settled into his chair and listened as his cousin outlined his intentions with regard to including Anne – and if need be, their aunt – in some of their excursions during their residence in the city.
~o0o~
Elizabeth had passed a disturbed night at the coaching inn. Her acceptance of her condition as she owned what it was she had been fighting these past few days had drawn her spirits low. Yet she knew she must endeavour to overcome her depression of mood. It was sufficient that Serena comprehended the situation, and without Jane to confide in she had to own that her friend’s ear would be invaluable over the coming days.
They had risen to a dull morning, and as their carriage made its way further westwards, the heavy clouds had broken and a downpour had ensued. Nicholas had sensibly opted to travel inside with the ladies and thus was adequate distraction at first for Elizabeth’s wayward attention. She was conscious of Serena’s concerned gaze, but beyond a gentle hug from her that morning, she had not alluded again to their conversation of the night before, and Elizabeth’s throat had remained too tight for words. Now, as the steady stream of water spilled down the windows, obscuring all from view, she found the weariness borne of a disturbed night overcome her; soon her eyes closed to the rhythmic sensation of the carriage and she slept.
The two friends studied the sleeping Elizabeth for a few moments before Nicholas turned to whisper to Serena.
“Is all well? Did she reveal what ailed her last evening?”
Serena bit her lip and shook her head.
“I am not at liberty to talk of it.” She spoke softly, keeping an eye upon Elizabeth’s slumbering form. “She is troubled; yet, it is not something that any of us can resolve for her.”
Nicholas frowned. “I do not like to think of Lizzy suffering. Has someone upset her? What was in that letter?”
With a sigh, Serena turned to face him, and he took her hand in his.
“It merely brought word from her father.” She glanced over at Elizabeth once more. “She will be well. You know Lizzy; she will not countenance being troubled for long.”
Nicholas grunted at this, but let the matter drop, turning the subject instead to their imminent arrival in Somerset and how to break their news to his parents, and Serena, leaning her head upon his shoulder, closed her own eyes, relishing the opportunity to be so close to him, and listened to him talking. She could only hope that she spoke the truth and that her dear friend would be able to soon overcome her disappointment. She had been shocked to see how affected she was; Elizabeth had always been so resilient, the one everyone turned to in times of strain. Who would be strong enough to aid her in her own hour of need?