The lady in question had made an indelible impression on me when visiting her home county of Hertfordshire, and just when I thought I might forget her, she arrived a stone’s throw from Rosings Park to be thrust under my nose with distressing regularity.
So, I deflected. “If you wish to marry a fortune, you should marry our cousin.”
“What—your intended?”
He was being wry, for we had discussed Lady Catherine’s insistence I marry Anne many times over. We had both arrived at the same answer—no, I would not. I then chose to tease himsolely for the sake of directing the conversation away from the parsonage.
“You would do well here at Rosings,” I said as if I were seriously mulling over the idea.
“Lady Catherine has no designs on me. It is you she wants.”
“She wants only my fortune and to live vicariously through the combining of two rich estates. I do not need to tell you again that I will disappoint her.” I finished the brandy at the bottom of my glass, and said, “And when I disoblige her, you should perhaps step in.”
He turned to look at me with one brow raised. “Do you suppose I do not know what you are doing, Darcy? You are speaking nonsense of a purpose.”
I shrugged. “You believe you know me too well. But I assure you I am only trying to help you to secure the fortune you so often allude to as your impediment to marriage.”
“What a cynic!”
“Oh? And you are not? What is this whine that you would court that lady if only she had a fortune, hmm?”
He set down his glass with a thump. “Perhaps we should step outside.”
“I believe we should,” I said, also setting my glass down with intent. “Carsten!” I called to the dressing room where my valet had a cot. “Bring the foils to the back lawn.”
I do not know how my cousin and I might have appeared had anyone been looking down at us from one of the upper rooms of the house. There was a light drizzle of rain that was more like a mist, and in the flickering orange light of two flambeau lit expressly for us, we fenced with an intensity fuelled by many unexpressed frustrations. We had done this often in our youth, less so these days, but the dance of it was still familiar enough to relieve our aggravation.
None of the feelings we exorcised had anything to do with one another, and we were well matched. Fitzwilliam was hardened by war and dauntingly strong, but I was shaped by privilege and the regular instruction of the masters I could afford. I easily deflected his attacks, and he efficiently kept me on the defensive. In under half an hour, we were drenched, panting, and struggling to keep our roars of laughter from waking Lady Catherine.
Carsten, who stood patiently under the eave throughout, came forwards with towels, and Sergeant Donaldson, who had sat on a bench smoking his pipe, relieved us of our foils.
“What fools we must look like to them,” I said to Fitzwilliam as we mounted the stairs.
“Idiots,” he said, hanging his arm on my shoulder. “I might be a touch too old to spar with you.”
“Time does not overlook me. Still, when we are toothless and fat, we should totter around in the dark poking at one another, reliving the privilege of our youth.”
CHAPTER 6
The following morning saw an express rider appear below my window. Carsten, alert fellow that he was, did not need to be told to be curious. He promptly stepped out, returning in under a minute with the information that a letter had been taken to the colonel.
Fitzwilliam was too much a man to force me to compose a delicately worded enquiry upon meeting him over breakfast. He came directly to my room.
“It is as I feared,” he said. “My friend Pinkney has a grave injury.”
I took a breath to offer condolences, but perhaps because he was still too raw, he was not equal to hearing it.
He held up his hand to forestall any words from me, and said, “I must write to his wife if you would excuse me.”
In order to deflect Lady Catherine’s intrusive questions as to her other nephew’s whereabouts, I joined her at the breakfast table later than I would normally eat, and she, sensing her opportunity, spoke at length of the de Bourgh fortune and legacy.
Considering herself to be clever, she believed she was appealing to my greed for power and position. I had failureswhich troubled me, and faults both known and undiscovered, but I did not covet either prize she offered to me in exchange for relieving her of the burden of her daughter. I did not claim this indifference as a virtue so much as it was the result of having sufficient consequence and means of my own. I did not need to be bought, which—I mused as I chewed and swallowed—must be considered the principal hallmark of both power and position.
She left the table in a complacent mood, for I had listened to her patiently. One day soon I would bluntly refuse to fall in with her plans, but it would not be this day. I stood from the table and called for my horse.
The morning had been heavy going in an already uncomfortable visit, and I wished only for silence. To that end, the folly struck me as the ideal destination.
The day was clearer than any other in recent weeks. I watched with a faint smile as Windsor, with his reins dangling lazily after him, wandered deep into the shadows behind the chestnut trees. What freedom animals must have to simply follow their noses! As I climbed the ladder, I wondered where my nose might lead me had I the freedom to follow it.
