Chapter 30

Drawing Room

Pemberley

Monday, 23rd August, 1812

Georgiana bent a look of pleasure on the backgammon board before her. Miss Bingley was a skilled player, but the dice had favored Georgiana this game, and she was ahead. It had, thus far, been a most enjoyable evening, with Miss Bingley in good humor despite her lagging behind in the game, and Mrs. Hurst nearby watching without much comment. The polished table shone in the sun blazing in through the window, which had been opened to let in a flower-scented breeze.

The previous few days had been cooler, a hint of the coming autumn, and with the changing in the seasons had come a pleasant and surprising change in Miss Bingley. She had become a more cordial companion of late, dropping her habit of making condescending remarks about everyone she deemed below her. The other day, to Georgiana's wonder, she had even taken time to be gracious to a servant.

Miss Bingley rolled the dice and moved one of her tokens. Georgiana reached for the ivory cube but looked up at a sound from the hall.

The door opened, and Colonel Fitzwilliam sauntered into the room, his coat liberally speckled with dust, his boots muddy.

"Richard!" Georgiana exclaimed, leaping to her feet and holding out her hands. "Is everything well?"

The colonel took her hands and smiled down at his cousin. "Everything is very well, yes. I promise you that George Wickham will no longer bother the Darcy family or, indeed, anyone else in England."

"Is he in prison?" Caroline asked eagerly.

"Better than that," Richard said with a grim smile. "He is working for a mining company on the Isle of Man and will be toiling hard to earn his daily bread. My friend, who administers the mine, was happy to accept Wickham into his fold and will make certain that he never leaves the island. He will also find himself without teeth if he attempts to bother any of the local women."

"Good," Caroline said fervently.

"Indeed. Now, I hope you will finish your game while I repair to my bedchamber to refresh myself. I will see you later at dinner, I hope?"

"We ladies often go for a walk before dinner in the garden," Miss Bingley said brightly, "and would be pleased if you would join us."

"Perhaps I will," he replied, as he bowed himself out of the room.

/

The Garden

Pemberley

The wide, white stone paths that wandered through the Pemberley gardens had recently been swept, and three sets of shoes clicked pleasingly across them. Georgiana walked at Caroline's right hand, with Mrs. Hurst beyond her. The matron had donned a pelisse; as the seasons advanced, the air had grown cooler. Caroline drew her own shawl closer about her shoulders, grateful for the added warmth. This one was one of her favorites, a lovely sage green that flattered her hair and her skin. The sun on her back was pleasant, though she lifted her shawl slightly higher to protect her neck from the harmful rays.

To either side of the path, lupins rose like church spires in arrays of plum and lavender and powdery pink, while pansies of deep midnight purple and brilliant sunny yellow rioted around closer to the ground. The last few bees of the year hummed lazily from one blossom to the next, legs fat with pollen. Birds hopped and rustled through the leaves and sang in the trees about the distant edge of the garden, and a snail slowly left a long silver trail up one tall slender stalk close at hand.

"Hello, Richard," Georgiana said suddenly, and Caroline turned to observe the colonel, freshly dressed in buckskin breeches, a tan shirt, and a green coat, his boots now well polished, striding briskly toward them.

"Good afternoon, Georgiana, Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley."

The ladies smiled at him and continued their stroll, while Georgiana asked general questions about the Isle of Man and Fitzwilliam answered them with his usual flair for detail.

Caroline listened with genuine interest, even as she plotted to spend a few minutes unattended with the colonel. Eventually, Mrs. Hurst remarked that she wished to go to the stone bridge, now that it was safe, and Georgiana agreed to accompany her, leaving Miss Bingley and the colonel alone, though within eyesight of several servants.

Fitzwilliam watched Georgiana accompanying her friend toward the bridge, pleased to see his young cousin moving with brisk enthusiasm and a certain freedom of movement, which had been absent for at least a year. It seemed that Georgiana was feeling far more at ease with Wickham across eighty miles of open water.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

He turned his attention to Miss Bingley, who was gazing up at him with a serious countenance.

"Yes, Miss Bingley?"

"I wished to take this opportunity to thank you for your blunt words regarding your cousin Darcy before you carried Wickham off to the Isle of Man."

This provoked a surge of shock in Richard Fitzwilliam's heart and mind, and it took him a minute to regain control of the expression on his face.

"I am pleased to be of service," he said in a reasonably calm voice.

She smiled now, apparently genuinely, and said, "I do believe that I have the right to ask you a very blunt question, however."

"You may ask, certainly, though I do not promise to answer."

She hesitated briefly and then said, with a mixture of determination and embarrassment, "Is there any chance you would be interested in entering a marriage of convenience with me?"

This provoked another surge of shock, this one so profound that Richard was aware, a moment later, that his mouth was hanging open.

Caroline flushed miserably and looked away, swallowing convulsively. "I see the answer is no. I apologize and will return to the house."

"Please wait, Miss Bingley. I did not mean to be so rude. You surprised me a great deal but…"

She did not move from her position, but neither did she look at him. "But?"

"But it is possible," Richard said thoughtfully.

She spun around slowly and gazed into his eyes. "Would you care to discuss the matter now, or think about it?"

"Oh, we should discuss it. My first question, I suppose, is why you have any desire to marry me. I am a younger son, and not wealthy."

"But you are the younger son of an earl, and a cousin to the Darcys. You are a member of high society, and I wish to climb higher in the ranks."

The colonel looked down at her, and his lips curved into a smile. "That is both practical and reasonable."

"I, of course, have a large dowry, and am, according to you, handsome, occasionally charming, and capable of interesting conversation. Indeed, I know that as a woman with ties to trade, I am not the sort of lady whom your father, the earl, would likely wish you to marry, but it seems that…"

She stopped as the colonel held up a hand. "Forgive me for interrupting you, but I truly have scant interest in the opinions of my father. I am almost thirty years of age and very much my own man. If I choose to marry you, do not concern yourself with the earl's response; I can manage him, and the countess as well."

She allowed herself to smile a little. "That is good news, Colonel."

Richard tilted his head and regarded the lady thoughtfully. "I do think I should warn you that while I am considered an amiable man, I have quite a strong will; one cannot effectively lead troops if one is a milksop."

"Do you think I wish for a milksop of a husband?"

The colonel lifted an eyebrow and said, "I will be entirely honest with you. While I like your brother very much, he seems weak willed to me. He allows Darcy to direct him and you to nag him into doing what you want him to do."

Caroline flushed. "Are you saying that I am a shrew, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

He grinned and shook his head with admiration. "It is at times like these that I can imagine a happy marriage between you and me, Miss Bingley. You have spark, you have energy, and you are by no means a timid lady. You are, to be truthful, beautiful when you are angry. Not that I wish for you to be angry at me, or angry at all, but I wonder if perhaps there is a butterfly within you trying to break free from the cocoon of societal expectations."

This took Caroline so by surprise that she nearly let her own mouth hang open again, but managed to stop herself at the last moment. A lady did not gape!

"A cocoon?" she repeated incredulously.

He wrinkled his nose. "My apologies. I do find it easy to speak honestly to you, more so than I usually do, but I fear I am being uncivil."

"A cocoon," she repeated again, this time primarily to herself, and turned to stare at Mrs. Hurst and Miss Darcy, who were standing on the stone bridge. "Oddly, I think perhaps there is some truth to that."

Fitzwilliam felt his shoulders relax at these words. He had, he knew, been dreadfully rude to Miss Bingley, and her willingness to accept his rebukes and remarks was surprising.

"Shall we attempt to be friends?" he suggested. "Like you, I do not require a love match, but if I am to marry you for your money, and you are to marry me for my position in society, we must at least appreciate one another tolerably well."

Caroline shook her head to distract herself from her thoughts. "I believe that to be an excellent and wise plan, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Shall we?"

She placed her hand on his offered arm, and they proceeded to join the others on the stone bridge.

/

On the Road to Hertfordshire

A Few Hours After Noon

Darcy heaved a sigh as the carriage finally escaped the bustle of London. He had intended to leave Darcy House at the crack of dawn but had been stayed by a civil note from his Uncle Matlock, who requested that he meet with Anne, her new husband, and the earl at ten o'clock at Matlock House.

He had reluctantly done so, but had been entirely satisfied by the meeting. Mr. Evan Buckley was neither handsome nor wealthy, but he seemed sensible and honorable. It was obvious that he genuinely cared for Anne, and while Darcy was confident it was not the sort of passionate love he felt for Elizabeth, he believed that the Buckleys would do well together.

Matlock had apologized for his suggestion that Darcy repudiate his engagement to Elizabeth and had promised to hold Lady Catherine in London for the next few weeks as the Buckleys settled in Rosings. The former mistress of Rosings had continued to yell and scream about her daughter's marriage and was now confined to her room with two strong female servants to keep her there.

Darcy thus had been able to leave London without any concerns about the rest of his family. Now he could go to Hertfordshire and stay with Bingley, waiting for his darling to return from Scotland.

If they made excellent progress, they would return by Thursday.

Three days seemed a very long time to wait.