Page 26 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

"Three!"

The Spy moved with fluid grace. George moved like a man walking through treacle.

"Four! Five! Six!"

Darcy watched, holding his breath. The silence of the heath was absolute, save for the squelch of boots and George's whimpering.

"Seven! Eight! Nine!"

George stopped. He was shaking so hard the pistol rattled in his grip.

"Ten!" Richard roared. "Turn and fire!"

George spun around. Or rather, he flailed around, his feet slipping on the wet grass. He squeezed his eyes shut. He raised the pistol blindly towards the grey sky.

He pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing happened. A misfire.

George opened one eye. "Oh."

Across the grass, the Spy turned. He raised his weapon. He took a careful, deliberate aim at George's chest.

George screamed. A high, thin sound of pure terror. He dropped his pistol. He threw his hands up in front of his face.

"Don't shoot! I yield! I yield!"

BOOM.

The sound of the Spy's pistol shattered the morning. A cloud of white smoke erupted from the barrel. Pigeons scattered from the trees.

George dropped.

He fell backward as if struck by a cannonball. He hit the mud with a wet slap and lay perfectly still, his arms flung out, the greatcoat fanning around him forming a shroud.

"George!" Darcy yelled. The scream was real. For a horrifying second, he forgot the plan. He forgot the blanks. He just saw his friend down. He sprinted across the grass. Richard was already moving, reaching the body first.

"Man down!" he shouted, kneeling in the mud.

Darcy skid to a halt beside them. George lay on his back, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent scream.

"Am I dead?" he whispered. "Is this hell? It is very wet."

Richard patted George's chest theatrically, checking for blood. There was none. Only mud and the rough wool of the dress.

"Missed," Richard announced, his voice filled with feigned amazement. "By an inch. The wind took it."

George opened his eyes. He patted his own chest. He felt his ribs. He wiggled his toes.

"Alive?" George breathed. "I am... intact?"

"You fainted, you swooning maiden," Richard hissed, hauling him up to a sitting position. "Stand up. You are embarrassing us."

Across the field, the Spy lowered his smoking pistol. He stood watching them.

Darcy stood up. He walked towards the figure in black. He stopped five paces away.