Duels of Every Sort Read online

  Duels

  of

  Every Sort

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  By

  Sarah Brown

  Copyright © 2019 Sarah Brown

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 9781071440278

  Cover image Photo by Ricardo Cruz on Unsplash

  Prologue

  Chapter One:

  Three Months Earlier

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Oh, God. This was a bad idea. What was I thinking? And where had John gotten to? It was his sister we were rescuing. How could he run off after just two villains, when here I was fighting off six. I am a good swordsman but not that good.

  "Untie me!" Elizabeth yelled as I parried one attacker and kicked another. Circling toward the dank corner of the dungeon in which she was tied, I frantically blocked one attack after another from the half dozen, sword-wielding blackguards. They really were a most appalling lot. Scruffy haired, unshaven, poorly attired wretches to be honest. It was rather an affront to my pride to admit they were beating me. Quite soundly as it were.

  I tried to take another step back only to find a wall trapped me. I continued to parry and thrust, sliding sideways and managing to disable one with a wound to the stomach. In the split second pause my attackers took on seeing one of their own injured, I leapt, grasped a low-hanging chandelier, and swung away from the wall.

  "For God's sake, Will. Stop dallying with those miscreants and untie me, before you get us both killed." Even in mortal danger, Elizabeth still managed to be sardonic.

  "I’m working on it," I replied, as I pulled a dagger from my boot and flung it at another attacker as he charged. It sank into his chest, and he fell dead to the floor. His sword clattered across the flagstones, skidding to a halt at Elizabeth's feet. I vaguely heard her mutter, "At last," as I turned to face the four remaining swordsman.

  Parry, thrust, parry, thrust. I twirled and kicked, blocked, attacked, moved forward then back. I moved as fast as I could, evading the many strikes at my vital organs, but I was still losing ground, being pushed farther and farther from where Elizabeth was tied. I had to get to her, so I could untie her, and we could leave this stench-ridden hovel.

  Where was John? I wondered again as I felt a sword pierce my shirt sleeve. However inappropriate it may be to wander about in one’s shirtsleeves with no coat and a half unbuttoned waistcoat, I was glad I’d had the forethought to remove my great coat before entering the dilapidated castle in search of Elizabeth. It would have been rather restricting in a battle with this many opponents. I hadn’t really thought that reprobate Wickham had this many lackeys. He had better hope I was not the one to find him, or his life would be decidedly short.

  "Mind if I join the fray?" I whirled to see Elizabeth standing to my left, the dead man’s sword in her hand. Her deep blue muslin dress was wrinkled and grimy, one shoulder had been torn revealing her camisole, her chestnut hair hung loose and disheveled about her shoulders, and dirt smudged one cheek. I was stunned she could still look utterly beautiful in such a state. Apparently so were my attackers, as they momentarily paused mid-thrust and gaped at her. Still, however fetching she was, I was not going to let her hang about to be killed.

  “Elizabeth,” I reproached her as the battle resumed. “Put that sword down and get out of here. Now!”

  “Don’t be absurd, Will. You are hopelessly outnumbered. I am hardly likely to stand by while you are skewered attempting to rescue me.” With that, she leapt into the melee and, without pause or apparent remorse, ran one of the scoundrels through. Another immediately attacked her, leaving two for me.

  As I continued to trade blows with the two unwashed rascals, out of the corner of my eye, I could not help but admire the swiftness and skill with which Elizabeth wielded her borrowed blade. She was clearly more than a match for her opponent. With a quick feint and flick of my wrist, I dispatched another enemy and turned to my last. We crossed swords and parried back a forth until I found a chink in his defenses and wrested his blade from his grasp. The man turned and fled from the room.

  At last there was only one ruffian remaining. I turned to find he and Elizabeth locked in heated battle. They traded blow for blow, thrust for thrust, Elizabeth clearly enjoying the opportunity to engage one of her abductors in combat. She moved with grace and skill. I admired her agility and speed, particularly whilst wearing a corset and long skirts. I knew I should come to her aid, but she was captivating, magnificent. And with superior skill, she knocked the cad’s blade aside and buried her sword in his stomach. God only knew what she had endured over the past two days, to allow her to casually toss her blade aside as her opponent fell on his face and ceased to move.

  She gazed impassively at the fallen man for a moment then turned to look me and smiled. But, her eyes belied her smile, showing the strain of being abducted, ill-treated, and engaged in mortal combat. “Shall we go? Is John here?”

  For a moment, I simply stared. If I had not already loved her, I would have fallen for her then. She was truly the strongest woman, the strongest person I had ever known. Finally, I asked the only thing I could think of to ask. “Where on earth did you learn to fence like that?”

  Now her smile reached her eyes and made them sparkle with their customary light. “My little secret,” she replied. At that, I sheathed my sword, crossed the few steps between us, and gathered her into my arms. Her own arms encircled my neck, and for all her bravado, I could feel the slight trembling of her knees. I wanted to hold her, safe in my arms, and banish any fear, forever. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what?” I asked, holding her tighter still.

  “For coming after me,” came her muffled reply, as she hid her face against my shoulder.

  Hearing that, I pushed her away just enough so that I could look into her eyes. The bewitching eyes that had so captivated me since her brother had first introduced us. “Elizabeth, darling, I love you. Of course I came for you. I always will.”

  I gently tucked one of her disheveled curls behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her. But before our lips met, I heard John’s sarcastic drawl from the doorway as he admonished, “I hate to interrupt such a touching scene, but may I point out that we are still in a den of thieves and, regardless of the fact that the majority of them have been dispatched, we should probably repair to the safety of your fine coach, Darcy.”

  Smiling, Elizabeth looked up at me and said, “He is right. Please, I do not want to be here anymore.”

  I nodded and smiled back. “Yes, let us leave this place.”

  John nodded too and headed back up the stairwell. I disentangled myself from Elizabeth and turned to lead her from the room, but she grasped my hand, and I paused. Standing on her toes, she whispered in my ear, “I love you, too. I always will.” Then she pressed her lips lightly to mine, turned, and, her fingers still entwined in my own, started up the stairs. Completely lost in love, I followed her out of the castle and to wherever she would take me.

  Chapter One:

  Three Months Earlier

  How do I get myself into these things? Really, I have no idea. I have always tried to keep to myself. Never being particularly comfortable in company, I have a small group of close, loyal friends and family that I am generally quite content to be amongst, but I somehow find myself in similar circumstances far more than the average wealthy gentleman. Considering that dueling is
illegal, it is a wonder I have not encountered legal consequences. I suppose there are perks to being Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley.

  I was currently standing in a deserted field just outside London at the break of dawn on this misty September morning ten paces away from my latest opponent, my two best friends, John Bennet and Charles Bingley, standing off to the side waiting for my fourth duel in the past four years to begin. I was not really concerned about losing, after all I am a superior swordsman and have worked hard to become so. But it was utterly tiresome to be constantly insulted and called out by silly young bucks over the most absurd of perceived slights.

  This latest meeting had come about when I was accosted the previous evening in the middle of my club’s dining room by the impetuous, rather dim, and still quite young Andrew Billings. He claimed that I had been overly familiar with his new, and very rich, fiancé while dancing with her at a recent ball. This was utterly absurd, of course, as I have never been improper or familiar with any young lady of the ton. Had I been, I would have been forcibly married by now. And I had only danced with the girl because my aunt was hosting the ball and had asked it of me. I’d danced with any number of ladies that evening, all against my will.

  However, having been engaged in duels three times previously on similar charges—none of which were true but merely based on the men’s jealously that their fiancés preferred me to them (I cannot help it if I am richer and more handsome than they are)—it seemed to have become the fashion for some stupid young man to challenge me at least once each year. At the age of twenty-three it had been exciting, at twenty-five amusing, but now at twenty-seven it was just annoying. However, as I had been challenged in such a public environment, I could not back down.

  “Very well, gentlemen,” called the surgeon overseeing the duel. “Let us get this underway, shall we? The duel continues until one of you is either disarmed or blood is drawn.”

  Billings and I both acknowledged the terms and accepted our swords from our seconds. I took mine in my left hand, intending to give the boy a fair chance in order to avoid complete humiliation. We bowed to each other, crossed swords, and the duel began. As I had suspected, Billings was not a great swordsman, but he was adequate and slightly challenging when using my left hand. However, after five minutes, I had gained a decided advantage and was quickly backing Billings down.

  “Come on, Darce,” I heard John call. “Quit messing about and finish this already.”

  “Breakfast is waiting, after all,” added Bingley.

  “Yes, all right,” I called back to them. I began to press my advantage in earnest and quickly divested my opponent of his sword. Billings stared dumbly at his weapon as it lay in the grass several feet away. “Yes, well. No hard feelings, Billings. I wish you and your fiancé very happy.” I retrieved his sword from the ground, held it out to him, and offered my hand.

  Before I knew quite what had happened, Billings had grabbed his sword from my hand, fiddled quickly with the handle, pulling it apart, and was suddenly attacking wildly with not one, but two blades. “Cheat!” yelled several spectators as I scrambled back. I tossed my sword from my left to my right hand and blocked a thrust aimed at my gullet. I continued to back away under the double bladed onslaught as I parried Billings’ vicious attacks.

  However, I soon found that Billings was no more proficient with two swords than he’d been with one. A quick flick of my wrist removed the sword in his left hand and a few further parries found Mr. Billings on one knee with no sword at all.

  “I fought you an honest duel, you coward,” I addressed him, the tip of my sword at his throat, “and you repay me with this base trickery. Explain to me why I should not run you through.”

  “Miss Cartwright broke off our engagement,” he spat at me. “She said you were going to make her an offer, and she would be far richer than I could ever dream.”

  “I have never had anything but a passing acquaintance with Miss Cartwright and have not the least idea what would make her claim such a thing. However, that does not excuse your cowardly behavior this morning.”

  “Go ahead, Darcy. Do what you will,” Billings replied. I could see his fear plainly. Oh, he was angry and hurt at his fiancé’s defection, but I could see him tremble beneath my sword. No, he may have been foolish and cowardly, but he was just a frightened boy who had ruined his life in a single morning. Five gentlemen had witnessed his poor form, and news of it was sure to spread quickly.

  “Get up,” I ground out. “Get out of my sight. Do not ever cross my path again.” I turned my attention to Billings’ friends who were standing by the surgeon and looking at him with a mix of shock and disgust. “Take your friend, Billings, here and get him away from me and out of London. I doubt his behavior this morning will be looked upon kindly once it reaches the ton.”

  I, then, turned back to John and Bingley put my coat and hat on, mounted my horse, and road off, my two friends just behind me. I did not slow down until we reached my townhouse in Grosvenor Square. The three of us retired to my study where my housekeeper, Mrs. Glenn, brought us tea and a light breakfast. Bingley was the first to speak after she left, “Can you believe Billings? I would never have thought he could behave in such a manner.”

  “You never believe anything bad of anyone,” John replied. “Billings is a fool, who has effectively banished himself from good society for quite a number of years.”

  “That is not all he’s accomplished,” I added, pouring myself and the others a glass of brandy despite the fact that it was not yet seven in the morning. “Once word of this reaches town, nothing else will be spoken of for weeks. I will not be able to go anywhere without being gawked at even more than usual. Not only will I still have to put up with all the match making mamas and their insipid daughters, I will now have every man in town begging me to recount the incident.” I took a long drink of the fiery liquid. “God, I hate London.”

  “Look, Darce. Why not you come with us to Hertfordshire?” offered John. “My father has called me home, having grown tired of his all female companionship, and Bingley here just leased Netherfield, which is just three miles from Longbourn. We can partake of all the usual sport to be found in the country and be out of London until this blows over.”

  “Yes, Darcy, come with us. I know you did not want to leave Georgiana, but she seems much recovered since the early summer and Mrs. Annesley seems more than capable of looking after her. I think some time apart may do you good.” Bingley smiled, his customary joviality shining about him. “You can stay at Netherfield with me, my sisters, and Hurst, and we will spend the autumn having a good time in the country.”

  Bingley was right. I had not wanted to leave my younger sister, Georgiana, after the Ramsgate debacle earlier in the summer, but my presence did not seem to be helping her recover. Perhaps my absence would. And I desperately wanted to be out of London, though I did not relish the idea of living in the same house as Miss Bingley. However, a few weeks of sport with good friends sounded like just what I needed to disperse the cloud that had been hanging over me for months now. “Very well. When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” was John’s reply.

  Chapter Two

  I had never been to Hertfordshire before but found the countryside quite pleasant as I rode next to John and Bingley with the carriage containing Bingley’s sisters and brother-in-law following behind. It was early afternoon on a warm, sunny day in late September, and the trees were just beginning to change color. Various shades of red and gold dotted the low hillsides that stretched around us. We were nearing the town of Meryton, which was just in the middle of Longbourn, the Bennets’ estate, and Netherfield, the estate Bingley had leased in his quest to become part of the landed gentry.

  As I took in the view, I contemplated the strange set of circumstances that had led me to this point in the summer. John Bennet had been a good friend to both Bingley and me while we were all at Cambridge together. We had met while I was attempting to teach Bingley how to fen
ce properly. He had always had a short attention span, and being a jovial, non-confrontational type, he had no attention at all for combative sports. John came upon us while we were practicing in the fencing hall and asked if I wanted to have a go with someone who actually knew how to wield a foil.

  As we traded parries and ripostes, I found that John was one of the few men who could actually challenge me with a blade. He was quick, had excellent footwork, and never flinched. To top it all off, I found over drinks later that day that he had a wit as quick as his sword with intelligence to match. The three of us became inseparable during our remaining time at Cambridge and then for a short time after we graduated.

  Unfortunately, I lost contact with him when I was called home to tend my father in his last illness and subsequently had the responsibility of a great estate and a younger sister more than ten years my junior thrust upon me at the tender age of twenty-two. About the same time, John had been called home to Longbourn to help rebuild the estate after a fire had devastated a good portion of the fields and destroyed the homes of several of the tenants. We were both too busy to keep up with the other.

  Bingley kept contact with both of us, but spent more time at Pemberley with me, helping to keep me from drowning in my new role as Master of Pemberley. He said that John had his father to help him, and I needed his friendship more. I was very grateful to him. His cheerful presence was often the only reason I made it through the days following my father’s death.

  I had not seen or heard directly from John Bennet in more than four years until earlier this summer. By some strange twist of fate for which I will forever be grateful, he had been on holiday at Ramsgate at the same time I had sent Georgiana with her new companion, Mrs. Younge, to that area for a bit of relaxation from her studies. John had happened to overhear Georgiana being proposed to at the seaside by Mr. Wickham—whom John remembered as being a profligate rake from our Cambridge days—and convinced to elope. Recognizing Georgiana’s name, he immediately sent me an express informing me of the situation, and I arrived in time to save Georgiana from folly.