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“Perhaps,” said Hildie, with a twinkle in her eye; “though I must say I was swayed more by your bare backside...”
Realising she was referring to the incident of the saddle sores, Richard opened his mouth in mock shock before deciding to confront the bête noire of his dastardly predecessor head-on.
“Well! Only one week till we get married! That does not give me much time to best the competition!” Then, getting a mischievous look on his face, he grasped one of Hildie’s breasts over her stays. “Did he do this?” he asked, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Richard!” objected Hildie, batting his hand away.
“Or this?” said Richard, running his hand along the silk over her thigh and leaning towards her to take another kiss.
Hildie leaned away from him in protest but gave up when he continued to pursue her. She collapsed giggling onto the settee under his playful assault. A spirited bout of kissing followed, during which Richard continued to take liberties with his hands. When he drew back momentarily to stare lustfully into her eyes, Brunhilda decided to get even.
“Does ‘Richard’ really mean a man’s...?” she gestured vaguely.
Richard’s eyebrows rose. “I see you are becoming familiar with the vagaries of the English language. Yes, it does or, at least, the contraction ‘Dick’ does. Where are you learning these things?”
“Oh! I just overheard two carriers sparring with each other when I was out in the carriage today.”
“Clearly, we need to fit our ladies with earplugs before letting them loose in the world,” joked Richard.
Glad that he had dispelled the oppressive atmosphere of Hildie’s confidence, Richard sat up and straightened his uniform, taking out his pocket watch.
“I’d better get off to Gunter’s before it closes! Mother asked them to put Robert’s name on the cake.”
“Yes, you had better!” agreed Hilda, feeling rather overcome. “We would not want to celebrate the wedding night before the engagement party!”
Richard burst out laughing. Reluctantly, he let Hildie go, giving her one last look of proprietary satisfaction. His wife! All six foot five of her! She was magnificent!
With a final squeeze, he was off, calling for his horse. When he mounted not fifteen minutes later, he looked up at the balcony to see that Hildie was waving goodbye to him. With a cheerful salute, he spurred his horse towards Berkeley Square.
Hildie went off to relieve the countess’s mind.
Chapter 45: Poetic justice
Although Caroline had sent Darcy her felicitations on his engagement, the word she had been tempted to convey to Georgie during their encounter near Gunters’ was ‘commiserations’. The news from Charles several days ago that Darcy had recovered sufficiently to use his carriage had reanimated Miss Bingley’s ambitions towards the master of Pemberley. The advantages of having a blind, rich husband who did not go much into society had begun to dawn on Caroline. As the Bingley barouche-landau had set off down New Bond Street, Caroline revealed her true feelings to her sister Louisa. Louisa’s shock at the news of Darcy’s engagement had almost equalled her sister’s.
“Why, this is terrible, Louisa! This brain fever has affected poor Darcy’s thinking! He did not show a particle of interest in Eliza Bennet in Hertfordshire! This is Mrs Bennet’s doing! She wrote that letter demanding that they marry!”
“It must be so, Caroline. Poor Darcy has likely given in to their demands in his incapacitated state, or perhaps his mind is so enfeebled that they convinced him he had promised himself before he left Hertfordshire, and that he forgot all about it!”
“Blackmail or manipulation, Louisa! We must do something! But what?”
“Send Charles over to talk some sense into him, Caroline!”
“Heavens, no! Charles would probably come back convinced that he should marry Jane Bennet! Not a word of this to him, Louisa, till we have rectified the situation!”
Over the fur rug the sisters had drawn across their laps, Caroline’s gloves twisted together as several schemes darted through her mind. Finally, she gave a shout of triumph: “I have it! Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh is staying at the Pulteney! I heard that she is up from Kent to make another push to get Darcy to marry her daughter—some sickly thing who never mixes in society. I am sure Lady Catherine cannot be apprised of this news. She is the very one to save him!”
“But Caroline, if you are thinking once more of marrying Darcy yourself, surely that could very well upset your own plans?”
“I do not think so, Louisa. Darcy has been resisting a connection with Miss de Bourgh for years on the basis that cousins should not marry.”
“But Caro, Darcy’s illness may change that situation entirely! Surely there cannot be any hope of children from their marriage now? Why, Charles says Darcy cannot even walk! Perhaps their consanguinity is no longer a consideration?”
This point gave Caroline pause, but her base motivations very nobly pushed this objection aside. “We must risk it, Louisa. To save him from the odious Eliza!”
After saying goodbye to Elizabeth when she returned to Cheapside in the late afternoon, Darcy retreated to his bed after several hours up and about, considerably fatigued.
While his body had reached its limits for the day, his mind was still active. He felt he was back in the labyrinth he had dreamed of in Vienna. His uncle had taken the form of the Minotaur. Elizabeth was the prize should he make it through to the end. She would be his if he was patient, but if he was clever enough to navigate the maze, she would be his sooner. Darcy knew they had reached a crucial juncture when Hildie was summoned to Matlock House. If all went well, tomorrow might just be the day to approach his uncle. If not, a perhaps more felicitous moment would be the day after Robert’s wedding, when the earl would have Princess Brunhilda’s dowry in his hand. Darcy had just decided it would be best to play it by ear when his cousin arrived and overset all his plans with his news.
