Page 171 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

"Fitzwilliam."

He looked up to find Colonel Edmund Lindon standing beside the booth, his blond curls slightly dishevelled and his brow furrowed with cautious concern. The man wore his dress uniform, and Richard's blurry eyes took a particular interest in his boots which were polished to a shine that could blind the unwary.

"Lindon." He gestured to the empty seat across from him. "Sit. Drink. Contemplate the futility of existence."

Lindon took the chair opposite, signalling a waiter for his own glass. "That bad, is it?"

"Worse."

"I heard you were courting Miss Bingley."

Richard's hand tightened around his glass. "Who told you that?"

"Everyone. The entiretonis gossiping about it. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, the confirmed bachelor, suddenly attending every ball in London with the same woman on his arm." Lindon accepted his brandy with a nod of thanks. "Though I must say, I am surprised. I thought you despised her."

"I do not despise her."

"You called her a lemon. At Robert's wedding breakfast. Very loudly. In front of half the peerage."

Richard winced. "I was drunk."

"You were sober. I was there. You had consumed exactly one glass of champagne."

"Then I was an idiot."

"Now we are talking."

Lindon took a sip of brandy, his eyes sharp despite the casual tone. "So what happened? Why are you here drowning your sorrows instead of courting the lemon?"

"She thinks I am after her money."

Lindon's eyebrows climbed high. "Are you?"

"No! Yes. I do not—" Richard stopped. There was no point in lying. Not to Lindon, who had known him since they were both lieutenants freezing in the Peninsula. "It is complicated."

"You love her, do you not?" Lindon leaned back, shaking his head. "It is not only about the money."

"Yes, Lindon, I love her. There, I said it. And I have not a clue how to make her listen to me. She will not see me. Her maid barred me from the house."

"Then go to her at a ball. A musicale. Somewhere public where she cannot refuse you without causing a scene."

Richard shook his head. "She will not attend. She feels humiliated."

"About that." Lindon hesitated, his easy cheer faltering. "Fitzwilliam. When did you last see Miss Bingley?"

"Yesterday. At Matlock House. Why?"

"Because she was at Faversham's ball tonight."

Richard's head snapped up. "What?"

"Faversham's ball. I saw her myself. Not an hour ago." Lindon took a long drink, as if fortifying himself. "She was with her brother."

Richard's pulse hammered. "What was she wearing?"

Lindon's mouth twitched. "You want to know what she was wearing?"

"It is relevant."