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Duels of Every Sort Page 9


  Elizabeth blushed scarlet while I looked at him apologetically. He said, “Elizabeth, have you told your sisters and brother your news yet? I saw from the library window that John has just returned, and I am sure they will be delighted for you. Perhaps you should leave this empty hallway and join their company?”

  Elizabeth avoided his eye as she answered, “Yes, Papa.” She, then, grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the drawing room. I offered Mr. Bennet a shrug and a slight bow as we passed by. I was rewarded with a slight smile.

  In the drawing room we found Miss Bennet and Bingley, sitting suspiciously close together and rather more red than usual. I suspected they had been engaged in a similar activity until they heard us outside the door. When they saw Elizabeth holding my hand, they both grinned, and we all offered each other a round of congratulations and well wishes for happy outcomes to our courtships.

  A while later John joined us. He took one look around the room and said to his sisters, “Well, I see Papa has had some visitors today. As the girls’ elder brother, I must warn you—again—that if you hurt them I will have to call you out over it.”

  “Oh, John,” said Miss Bennet. Lizzy added, “We are quite capable of looking after ourselves, you know.”

  “I know, but I would hardly be a good brother if I did not issue such a warning. Besides, you forget that I knew these two while they were still at university. The things I could tell you about them may shock you. I have to be sure that they have mended their ways.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Careful, John. You might provoke me to retaliate and say something of your own behavior at Cambridge that may shock your sisters.”

  “Oh, please do,” Elizabeth said. “I should dearly love to know how John behaves amongst strangers.”

  I looked to John, who glared back at me but said, “I am not afraid of you, Darce.”

  I did not really know what I was going to say. Nothing too dreadful, as there were things one did not tell a young lady. What came out was, “Well, a few days after I met John, he dragged Charles and me to an assembly, where he danced every dance, though ladies were scarce and more than one gentleman stood by without a partner.” Elizabeth laughed.

  John responded, “I was doing you a favor, Will. I figured if I danced with them, you would not have to bother. We all know how much you dislike that savage occupation.” Elizabeth laughed her musical laugh again, and the rest of us laughed with her.

  Bingley and I decided we had best return to Netherfield after tea that afternoon. It had been a lovely visit, and I did not want to go but had no choice. I consoled myself with the though that eventually Elizabeth would be leaving with me. As we were waiting out front of the house for our horses to be brought round, I remembered our encounter with Wickham that morning. I had nearly forgotten in the contentment of the rest of the day, but I must warn the Bennets. “John, may I have a word, before I go?”

  “Of course,” he said and led me a little away from the others. “What is it?”

  “You will never guess who, of all people, I encountered in Meryton this morning, and being introduced to your sisters.” John looked at me quizzically. I could hear the rancor in my voice. “Wickham.”

  John’s eyes widened in surprise, and he took an involuntary step back. “Wickham is here? In Hertfordshire?”

  I nodded. “Apparently he has joined the militia.”

  Now anger darkened John’s usually cheerful countenance. “And he was speaking to my sisters, was he?”

  “Yes, they had just been introduced when Charles and I came upon them. He was speaking to Elizabeth, in fact. I have warned her about him, though I was too angry to relate the whole of the story to her at the time. I will tell her eventually. In the mean time, I do not want that…man within a hundred yards of her. And you should not want him near any of your sisters.”

  “Of course I don’t want him anywhere near my family. I will try to keep an eye on him and them. What are you going to do though?”

  “I intend to write to my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, tonight and ask that he use his military connections to have Wickham removed from Meryton. I don’t much care how he does it, so long as he leaves. As you convinced me before, I cannot do anything more overt without exposing Georgiana.”

  “Yes,” John nodded. “That sounds reasonable. It might take a while, however.” He paused in thought and ran a hand through his hair. Then his eyes lit up and he smiled wickedly. “You know, Darce. I ran into Colonel Forster this morning, and he invited me to come to the officer’s fencing practice tomorrow. Perhaps you should come along. Wickham may not listen to reason, but between the two of us, perhaps we can make him reasonable through fear. At least let him know we are watching, and he should not try his games here.”

  I smiled, too. “Yes, John. I think fencing practice with the officers sounds like just the thing.”

  --- --- ---

  The moment Bingley and I entered Netherfield that afternoon, Miss Bingley accosted us. She was apparently angry that we had not informed her of our plans. “If you are going to be out all day, I should appreciate being notified about it. I had thought you were just going to Longbourn to issue an invitation to the ball. What on earth could have kept you so long?”

  “Once we arrived at Longbourn, we were invited to stay for tea,” I told her. I knew that Bingley and I would have to tell her about courting the two eldest Miss Bennets, but I was not looking forward to it. She would be annoyed with Bingley, but I was sure she’d be absolutely livid about me. Ever since I have known her, Miss Bingley has been plotting and planning and ingratiating her way toward her goal of being Mistress of Pemberley. It does not matter what I do to discourage her.

  I would have to keep Elizabeth away from her as much as possible. She might be civil to Bingley’s Miss Bennet for the sake of her brother and that she would have to live with her when they married, but I doubted she would extend the same courtesy to my Miss Bennet.

  “Well, you might have sent a note back to inform me of your plans, Charles. I cannot be expected to run this house properly if I do not know who will be here and for which meals.” She huffed and sighed.

  Bingley looked nervously to me. I knew he was just as apprehensive about telling Miss Bingley as I. He swallowed then began, “I am sorry we forgot to tell you of our change in plans, Caroline. I am afraid it quite slipped our minds in the midst of the business we went to Longbourn to conduct.”

  “What, issuing an invitation to a ball? How distracting can that be?” Miss Bingley retorted.

  “Well, yes,” Bingley continued. “We did go there to issue the invitation, but that was not the only reason for our excursion.” Again, he looked at me, silently begging for my help. I just shook my head ever so slightly. I was not about to tell Miss Bingley my news before he had told her his. I would not allow my courtship to distract Miss Bingley from Bingley’s. He would actually have to deal with his sister for once instead of sidestepping her.

  “What other business?” Miss Bingley asked. Her eyes had narrowed as she studied Bingley’s nervous demeanor.

  “Well, you see Caroline,” he tried, then hurried on, “I have decided to pay court to Miss Jane Bennet and went to Longbourn to gain Mr. Bennet’s permission, which he granted.” He let out a breath once he was done. Then waited stiffly for Miss Bingley’s reaction.

  Miss Bingley wasted no time in letting him know how she felt. Her face screwed up in anger. “Charles! Are you out of your sense to be courting this girl? We all know she is a pretty, pleasant sort of girl, but she is beneath us. She has no fortune, no connections. You cannot be serious.” She went on a bit more before she seemed to remember that she was throwing a tantrum while I was present in the room. She made a visible attempt to reign in her contempt then turned to me. “Mr. Darcy, do not you have anything to say? You cannot mean to allow my brother to make such a mistake. Surely, you can see what a misstep this is.”

  I did not immediately reply. I was rather angry at Miss Bingley’s dispa
ragement of the Bennets but also angry with myself for once having considered the same objections when contemplating a connection with Elizabeth. If I had been half as conceited and arrogant as Miss Bingley had sounded, I did not deserve Elizabeth’s attention. Thankfully, I had come to my senses before I made a colossal mistake and lost her. I had only known Elizabeth for a little more than six weeks, and already I was a better man for it.

  At last, I said, very evenly, “Firstly, Miss Bingley, I have not allowed your brother to do anything. Charles is his own man and can make his own decisions. Miss Bennet is his choice, and I support him in it completely. Secondly, do not disparage the Bennets in either your brother’s or my presence again. I have the highest respect for them and will not tolerate further abuse on your part. And lastly, I will inform you that I also had business with Mr. Bennet today. I asked for and was granted permission to court Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a circumstance that brings me no little happiness.”

  When I had done, Miss Bingley just gaped at me, her mouth hanging open. Then her eyes went back a forth from Bingley to me. She opened and closed her mouth as if trying to speak. She blinked repeatedly. I fought valiantly to keep a smirk off my face. At last, she stomped her foot, spun on her heel, and ran from the room, the feathers in her hair trailing in her wake.

  Bingley watched her go, concern creasing his brow. I took a deep breath and turned to him. “Charles, forgive me if I overstepped my bounds there. I can’t listen to her malign the Bennets any longer.”

  “No,” Bingley said. “It is all right. You have always been very tolerant of Caroline and her scheming. I have tried to put a stop to it, but she will not listen. Perhaps you have finally gotten through to her. I appreciate that you have put up with her for my sake. I shall give her a while to regain control of her emotions and check on her later.”

  I nodded. “I do hope her disappointment will be of short duration. I will not have her make Elizabeth uncomfortable.”

  “Nor Jane,” he added. He looked thoughtful for a moment then continued, “It is really I who should apologize, Darcy. I should have checked Caroline long ago. I did not for the sake of harmony, but I should not have let it go. I will speak to her later and make sure she understands that if she offends any of the Bennets, there will be consequences.”

  “Good luck with that,” I smiled at him. He returned my smile, and all was well between us. “If you will excuse me now, I have a letter to write to my cousin.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I shall see you at supper.”

  I retired to my room where I could write my letter undisturbed and drafted the following:

  Fitzwilliam,

  As you know I am currently residing with my friend, Charles Bingley, at his estate, Netherfield in Hertfordshire. Today I discovered that George Wickham is in the area, too. He has taken a commission in a regiment of militia, commanded by a Colonel Forster and currently encamped in the town of Meryton. As you can imagine, this is a circumstance that I find intolerable. John Bennet, whose estate is not three miles from Netherfield, is also concerned as he has three younger sisters, and, in light of what he deterred between Georgiana and Wickham this summer, he does not want Wickham anywhere near Meryton.

  I write to you to ask that you use your connections to remove Wickham from the vicinity as quickly as possible. Both you and John persuaded me that calling Wickham out would not be the prudent course, but the longer he remains in the area, the more tempting it will become. In addition, I had hoped to invite Georgiana to Hertfordshire to meet the Bennets, which is now made impossible by his presence.

  Please respond as soon as you have news of what is to be done. Thank you for your assistance in this matter. Please give my regards to your family when next you see them.

  Your cousin,

  F. Darcy

  I sealed the letter and rang for a servant to send it express. I could now only wait and hope that Fitzwilliam would be able to do something. The militia and the regulars were generally separate entities. But, Fitzwilliam was well connected everywhere, and I hope he would be able to affect a transfer. There was nothing more I could do—until tomorrow. I very much looked forward to the officer’s fencing practice.

  Checking the clock on the mantle, I found that there were still several hours until supper would be served. I decided that I should rest to insure I was in excellent form for the morrow’s activities. So, I lied down upon my bed and turned my thoughts to more pleasant events. I drifted off to sleep with visions of Elizabeth swimming before my eyes.

  --- --- ---

  The following morning dawned bright and clear. Most of the leaves had fallen from the trees by now and there was a definite crispness to the air signaling that winter was not far off. Despite the fine weather, my mood was grim with the task ahead. John arrived at Netherfield, and we breakfasted together before the rest of the house was about. At half past seven, we called for our horses and made our way to the fields where the militia held their practices—there were no rooms of a proper size in Meryton to hold such events indoors.

  Upon arriving, we were greeted by Colonel Forster, whom I had met at the Lucases and several other neighborhood gatherings but had not spoken to at length. John explained, “I hope you don’t mind my bringing Darcy along this morning, Colonel. He is quite good with a foil and could not resist the opportunity of a good practice with your men.”

  “Not at all,” the Colonel replied. “You are very welcome to join us, Mr. Darcy. I hope you will add a bit of variety to the usual practice that the men receive.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” I said. I scanned the area for Wickham and saw him leaning against a fence post watching Lieutenant Denny and an officer I did not know spar. I began to calculate how I could engage him in particular without drawing too much attention. There were a fair number of men on the field and a good deal of noise and activity to serve as distraction.

  My only real problem would be how to convince Wickham to cross swords with me. Having grown up together, Wickham and I learned to fence from the same masters. He knew of my prowess and was not so bad with a blade himself. I had not engaged with him since we had been at Cambridge, but I had lost a match to him on occasion when we were younger. He was quick and skilled, but so long as I bided my time and waited for the appropriate moment to strike, I should be able to defeat him—I doubted he had practice as much as I in recent years. I hoped that both John and I would be able to intimidate him in front of his companions so that he would take our warnings seriously. Between the two of us, I did not think it would be a problem—so long as we could actually get the coward to engage in a match.

  John had finished speaking with Colonel Forster, and we moved farther into the field. I indicated with a bob of my head where Wickham was located, and we headed in that direction. A Lieutenant Saunderson and a Captain Carter, with whom I was vaguely acquainted, were practicing near to Wickham. In silent agreement, we joined them first; Better to approach Wickham slowly. After removing our coats and waistcoats, we engaged the two in several standard drills.

  Saunderson and Carter were decent swordsmen but no match for John and me. They soon realized this. “You gents are quite skilled,” said Saunderson during a break. To the side, Wickham watched us warily. He had been joined by Denny, whose partner had left for some other group.

  “Aye,” added Carter. “You are far too skilled for me. We’ll have to find you a better opponent with which to practice.” He searched his fellow redcoats nearby for a suitable option. “Ah! Here we are. Denny, Wickham, come and give these two gentlemen a go. You are two of the best swordsmen amongst us. These gentlemen could do with some competition.”

  All too easy, I thought, with a glance at John. Wickham could not back out now after his friend had given him such praise. He was bound to show off his skill.

  Denny approached straight away, but Wickham hesitated for a moment, suspicious of my presence. He didn’t know that John was the man to have had alerted me of this summer’s events. H
e only knew that John was my friend and must guess at how much I might have told him.

  As such, when he made his way over, he appeared to have decided that John was the safer bet. I would let John lay the groundwork and then challenge Wickham myself. I murmured to John, “Don’t tire him out too badly. Just get the point across. I shall do the real work.”

  John nodded, a gleam in his eye as he sized Wickham up as though he were a pig for auction—a notion I did not find too far off the mark. “Not to worry. I believe I shall enjoy this very much.”

  I shook hands with Denny, saluted him, and we engaged. Out of the corner of my eye, I could keep track of John and Wickham as they too began. Denny was indeed skilled, but I sensed no immediate danger. I would give him five minutes and then finish the battle. After all, it was not him I wanted to intimidate. I would allow him to keep his pride intact despite him being Wickham’s friend—after all, I had been his friend once too.

  It was not a terribly complex match. I sensed that Denny was not giving it his full attention either. We parried back and forth, thrust, riposted, shuffled back and forth. All this while I kept my eye on Wickham and John. As promised, John was not engaging Wickham in full. I could also gauge Wickham’s present skill. As I had thought, he had not kept up with his practice as he ought. He was slower, a little clumsy.

  At last, I grew bored with Denny’s half-hearted swordplay. I gave him my full attention, turned up the heat and we locked in earnest battle four about thirty seconds before I decided that it was not worth the energy and quickly scored a touch. Denny acknowledged it, as a gentleman should. We shook hands, saluted, and then turned to watch John and Wickham.

  John was still playing with him. He would let him get close, then step aside and change tactics, quick as a flash, disconcerting Wickham and sending him into a frenzy trying to find the correct defense. After several minutes of this entertainment, I coughed deliberately to signal John to end the match. He launched a complicated series of thrusts and parries with which Wickham could not keep up. The touch was scored, and Wickham acknowledged it. As they shook hands, John murmured something to Wickham that I could not make out.