A Duel in Meryton

by Renata McMann

  ***

  The next morning when they all met for breakfast, Mr. Collins walked with visible stiffness. He pulled out a chair for Kitty, then eased into his own with a grimace. He lifted his arm to reach for the pot of coffee before Mr. Bennet, but let it fall back to his side, coffee unclaimed. Kitty retrieved the pot and poured some for Mr. Collins. He offered a grateful smile that made Elizabeth’s sister beam.

  “Perhaps you should take a day off from fencing,” Jane said sympathetically.

  “Lady Lucas said Mr. Collins should take all the practice he can,” Mrs. Bennet said.

  Mr. Bennet, in better color this morning, reclaimed the coffee pot. “Recuperation is part of learning.”

  “I will take tomorrow off,” Mr. Collins said.

  Kitty smiled at him, as if his agreeing to take off the following day, Sunday, was the most intelligent decision a man ever made. Elizabeth stood and went to the sideboard to hide her amusement. She’d never thought to see either of her two youngest sisters more than superficially smitten, and certainly not by the likes of Mr. Collins.

  “The banns will be read tomorrow.” Kitty directed another besotted look at Mr. Collins.

  “You should wear your green dress,” Mrs. Bennet said. “You look sallow in any color but green.”

  “May I borrow your hat, Lydia?” Kitty asked. “The one with the green and cream ribbons?”

  Lydia sniffed. “You may not.”

  Kitty regarded her with a hurt expression.

  “I have extra green ribbon,” Mary offered Kitty.

  “And I have a hat I haven’t had time to trim,” Elizabeth said, returning to the table.

  “Lydia already has a hat that goes with my green dress.” Kitty glared at their youngest sister. “Why can’t I wear it?”

  “Loan Kitty your hat, Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet said. “She is to marry, and she will be mistress of Longbourn someday, so you shall have to be kind to her.”

  Lydia crossed her arms over her chest, expression obstinate as she regarded Kitty. “She may borrow my hat when the officers stop avoiding us.”

  “What do you mean?” Jane asked, looking to Lydia in surprise.

  “Aunt Phillips invited some officers for dinner last night and they declined. It’s all because of Mr. Collins and his stupid duel.” Lydia shifted her glare from Kitty to Mr. Collins.

  “Mr. Collins didn’t challenge Mr. Wickham,” Mary said.

  “But he insulted him. It’s Mr. Collins’ fault,” Lydia complained.

  This degraded into an argument that ended with Mr. Bennet retreating to his room. Mary gave up and went to the parlor to practice, hammering out loud, discordant notes that didn’t overcome Kitty, Lydia and Miss Bennet’s screeching. Mr. Collins fled to the yard to go through the practice forms Mr. Darcy and Mr. Fitzwilliam had given him. Elizabeth elected to take a walk.

  She walked toward Netherfield, unaware of where her feet took her until she crested a hill to look down on the manor. She considered calling on Miss Darcy, but the hour was still quite early. Yes, Miss Darcy had taken that liberty, but Elizabeth wouldn’t be so presumptuous. As she watched, a lone rider left the stable. The gentleman, taller than Mr. Bingley and not so rigidly upright as Mr. Darcy, angled his mount across country, toward Lucas Lodge. Though she felt a pang of sorrow, suspecting that she could soon lose not only Jane and a recently more-bearable Kitty, but Charlotte as well, Elizabeth smiled. She was desperately happy for her dear friend. With a sigh, she turned and headed back to Longbourn.

  At church the following morning, sidelong glances and cold shoulders mingled with effusive greetings and smiles. Evidently, people had elected to take sides in the coming conflict. Elizabeth didn’t mind, finding no surprises as to who remained friendly to her family.

  As Mr. Collins made his way through the church, movements noticeably awkward and stiff, the cacophony of murmurs rose. Kitty, at his side, held her nose in the air and aimed a scowl at anyone she saw eyeing him unfavorably. Elizabeth hoped her sister couldn’t sort out individual words from the general din of the congregation, for most were whispered predictions that Mr. Collins would lose the coming confrontation.

  Still, no one protested when the banns were read, and Kitty received many congratulations. If some of their neighbors were notably absent from the well-wishers, and others offered their felicitations in tones tinged with sorrow, Kitty either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. With Mr. Collins by her side, her smile held a joy that made her beautiful, and her eyes sparkled. After the service, the first their father had attended in several weeks, Mr. Bennet confided in Elizabeth that, overall, the morning had gone more smoothly than he’d expected.

  The following day practice at Lucas Lodge resumed, with several new additions in the form of Mr. Long and the two Goulding brothers. To Elizabeth’s amusement, Lydia also joined them. She frowned as she watched, but Elizabeth could tell she enjoyed seeing the men in shirtsleeves and vests, dancing about the practice areas they’d marked off.

  “What are they all doing here?” Kitty asked, as two more young men arrived, asking to participate.

  “I suspect they’ve felt a bit neglected by the women of Hertfordshire since the arrival of so many officers and other eligible gentlemen,” Charlotte said.

  “And they’re here to support your Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth added, mostly to induce Kitty’s worried look to transform into a smile.

  “They are not here to support Mr. Collins,” Lydia muttered before raising her voice to call, “Mr. Long, are you here to support Mr. Collins?”

  Mr. Long turned toward the benches where Elizabeth, her sisters and Charlotte sat. “I am. It was cowardly for an officer to challenge a clergyman, and everyone knows as much.”

  This evoked a round of hear! hear! from the other young men, though Mr. Fitzwilliam simply watched with mild amusement.

  Lydia tossed her head. “A clergyman can’t hide behind his profession.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Miss Lydia,” Mr. Long said and turned back to his opponent, one of the younger Lucas brothers.

  Lydia’s expression folded into a pout, but she didn’t elect to defend Mr. Wickham again. Elizabeth was again called on to hide her amusement. Obviously, as she’d been deprived of officers, Lydia needed someone with whom to flirt. As uninterested in flirting as Elizabeth was, even she knew it was easier to flirt with a man when you weren’t arguing with him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After several days of trying, and finding Richard gone each morning, Darcy set an appointment to take a walk with his sister and cousin. They stepped outdoors to chilly, blustery weather, but that couldn’t be helped. Not when Richard had been unavailable the past few mornings and Georgiana was becoming increasingly displeased with Darcy’s constant hovering. He’d no desire for her to hear rumor of the duel until he and Richard could speak to her, so he hadn’t permitted her from his sight during waking hours.

  As they descended the steps of Netherfield, Darcy cast an appraising eye on the inky clouds. A little rain wouldn’t deter him. In truth, it may be a boon. The inclement weather would keep Miss Bingley from one of her so-called accidental meetings with them. Bingley’s sister would never risk appearing before Darcy and Richard bedraggled by rain.

  With a glance about to ensure no one else trod the garden paths, Darcy set a quick pace. He led Georgiana and Richard to the shelter of a grove of ancient oaks and halted, praying the clouds wouldn’t open in a deluge before he could conclude the upcoming discussion.

  “Well?” Richard said as he and Georgiana turned to face Darcy. “You’ve obviously brought us out here for a reason, Darcy.”

  “So no one will overhear us,” Georgiana said. She rubbed her arms and tugged her shawl tighter. “And they won’t. No one sane would come out in this weather.”

  Darcy nodded. “Georgiana, Miss Elizabeth described what happened in Ramsgate differently from what I understood, and I repeated her words to Richard, but I would like to hear the story from
you. Please recount what occurred.” He locked gazes with her. “What truly occurred.”

  Georgiana let out a sigh.

  Richard held up a hand, staying speech. “You were aware Miss Elizabeth shared your confidences?” he asked Georgiana.

  She nodded. “I told her to. I wished my brother to know, but I’ve been too great a coward to broach the subject.” She offered Darcy an embarrassed grimace.

  Richard nodded. “Continue.”

  Georgiana drew another deep breath and launched into her tale. She gave details of her interactions with Mr. Wickham and Mrs. Younge, not in chronological order, but a clear picture emerged. Darcy attempted to keep his anger in check, aware that Richard studied his reactions as much as he watched Georgiana.

  By the end of his sister’s recounting, Darcy felt relief on two counts. He’d long worried that paying Mrs. Younge full wages and giving her money for transportation of herself and her belongings back to London was inadequate if she had been duped, but Georgiana’s information painted Mrs. Younge as an accomplice, not a victim. It also pleased Darcy that the long, disjointed description matched what Elizabeth had told him.

  Georgiana ended by saying, “I am so very sorry. It was not that I wished to lie. I simply wished the whole incident to end as quickly as possible.” She turned beseeching eyes on Darcy. “I wanted you to take me away from there.”

  Darcy nodded. “So Miss Elizabeth made me understand.” He put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I forgive you.”

  He dropped his arm and they both turned to Richard, who made a dismissive gesture.

  “I forgive you as well, cousin.” Richard eyed her shrewdly. “And that really is why you’ve been so quiet? Out of guilt for lying to us? You conceal nothing more?”

  “Yes. At school we were taught that girls who aren’t out should be quiet, obey orders from their elders, and not speak unless directly addressed, and then do so in a manner so as not to garner attention.” She raised her hands, palms up. “I wanted to be perfect, to make up for what I’d done.”

  “A truly ridiculous recommendation for any young woman’s behavior,” Richard said.

  Darcy raised an eyebrow. “An accepted recommendation.”

  Richard shrugged. “Either way, you can forget that, Georgiana. By letting you dance at the assembly, you are out.”

  “That was only practice.” Darcy didn’t wish his sister to be as meek as she’d been of late, but he did not want her behaving like Miss Lydia Bennet, either.

  Richard shook his head. “Women who are not out do not dance at assemblies. Impromptu dances at private parties are acceptable, and are good learning experiences, but an assembly is altogether different.”

  “We aren’t even in London,” Darcy protested.

  Georgiana appeared thoughtful. “Once someone is out, they can’t go in.”

  “I think the opposite of ‘out’ is ‘not out,’” Richard said. “Georgiana is definitely out.”

  Darcy aimed a frown at his cousin, Georgiana’s co-guardian. “If you felt the act would constitute a come out, you could have protested and told me I was wrong to promise she could dance at the assembly.”

  “But you had promised it. I am not saying that Georgiana should have a full season in London this winter but attending a few events as an adult would probably be good. If you remember, that is what my sister did.”

  Darcy frowned. He didn’t recall well, being some five years younger than Richard’s sister. “She couldn’t have been as young then as Georgiana is.”

  “She was sixteen, as Georgiana will be soon enough,” Richard stated. “The real question is who will chaperone her. You, as of yet, are unwed.”

  “What do you mean by a few events?” Georgiana asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  Richard chuckled. “More than your brother would like, but considerably fewer than you would.”

  Excitement unwavering, Georgiana looked back the way they’d come, toward the manor. “We can start here. Miss Bingley can accept invitations and invite people here. There are lots of opportunities for impromptu dances at private parties. Maybe Mr. Bingley can even throw a ball.”

  “Georgiana,” Darcy protested. He glanced at Richard. Although Wickham had nothing to do with his original protest, Darcy grasped at the idea of him to support his case. “You know George Wickham joined the local militia.”

  She tipped her chin up. “So I learned at the Bennets, and I do not care. George Wickham means nothing to me.”

  She obviously didn’t understand how much trouble Wickham could make for her if he’d a mind to. Ignoring that, Darcy said, “Be that as it may, what you do not know is that the Bennets’ cousin, Mr. Collins, is going to duel Mr. Wickham over Wickham’s treatment of you.”

  Georgiana’s eyes went round.

  “Point of fact,” Richard inserted. “Mr. Collins is dueling Mr. Wickham because he abused your father’s trust, not because he abused yours, Georgiana.”

  Darcy shrugged. “The exact reason is not my point.” He hoped his declaration would subdue Georgiana’s desire to socialize.

  “But it is important.” Richard’s gaze held sternness. “And, even scared as he is, Mr. Collins has been making a concerted effort to be quite clear on the subject. He is not dueling over Georgiana. I am sure you appreciate the distinction, Darcy.”

  Darcy most decidedly did, but he frowned. “Regardless, putting Georgiana in the same company as Wickham can only harm her reputation. We should go to Pemberley.”

  “No,” Georgiana said firmly. “That is cowardly. I can face Mr. Wickham with a clear conscience. Perhaps I didn’t conduct myself as well as I should have, but I can do better now. Mr. Wickham is the man who courted me persistently and asked me to elope with him. I refused. I wrote you about it, even if the letter was never delivered. I told my governess about it. She continued to allow him access to me.” Fisted, Georgiana’s hands found her hips. “I will meet him in company on those terms. Why should I hide?” She looked back and forth between Darcy and Richard. “If anything, we should confront Mr. Wickham. We should make him back down from the duel. Let poor Mr. Collins stop being afraid.”

  Darcy stared at his sister, rueful. He’d wished for a return of her spirit. He’d gotten that wish, tenfold.

  “She’s right,” Richard said. “If we leave now, we will be perceived as running away. The scandal will be worse. We shou—”

  Richard whirled and held up a staying hand. A moment later, Darcy, too, heard footsteps. Light and quick, and accompanied by the swish of skirts. He suppressed a groan. He’d been wrong about the strength of the threat of rain.

  Miss Bingley flittered into view between trunks, hurrying down the path. She sighted them and slowed, a smile touching her lips. “There you all are. I was wondering to where you disappeared. It’s almost as if you have secrets.”

  Chagrin shot through Darcy. Georgiana frowned.

  Richard gave a chuckle. “We do. Georgiana was telling us she wished you to accept more invitations.”

  Miss Bingley’s expression lit with pleasure as she turned to Georgiana. “Why, certainly, dear. I shall be more than happy to, but let’s get you inside before it rains. You’ll catch your death, like that poor Miss Bennet. It’s so unfortunate such a lovely girl is beset by ill health.” She proffered her arm.

  Georgiana favored Darcy with a grimace, but accepted Miss Bingley’s arm. As Miss Bingley led her away, her voice drifted back to them. “The whole family, really. The lot of them are sickly. Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Kitty. I’m sure we shall discover Miss Elizabeth is, too. Such a shame.”

  Richard cast Darcy an amused look and headed after the women, leaving Darcy alone and disgruntled under the ever-darkening sky, glimpsed through the lingering leaves of the oaks.

  ***

  Miss Bingley took the opportunity to make calls with Georgiana quite seriously, undoubtedly hoping that if she could show Darcy and Richard how good a companion she could be, one of them would marr
y her to secure a chaperone for Georgiana. Suddenly, they were about the community day and night. It didn’t deter Miss Bingley in the slightest that Darcy and Richard insisted on accompanying them on their calls, as did Bingley, in the hope of seeing Miss Bennet. Mrs. Hurst and Mr. Hurst sometimes joined them, but more often remained at Netherfield.

  A few evenings after their meeting in the oak grove found all six of them on their way to Lucas Lodge. Darcy hoped the Bennets would be present at the Lucases, since that would permit him to ask after Collins’ progress. That, surely, was the only reason he wished to see any member of the Bennet family…to assuage his guilt for neglecting Mr. Collins’ training after their initial session, which he had. Though, in his defense, Darcy had heard that Richard had things well in hand on that front, and Darcy had needed to keep a close watch on Georgiana.

  When they arrived, well-played strands of music spilled forth from the parlor, and Richard suggested to Sir William’s butler that they not be announced so they wouldn’t interrupt. As they traversed the foyer, a lovely contralto joined the playing, the notes tugging at Darcy’s heart. Beside him, Miss Bingley appeared quite put out, but she said nothing as their party entered quietly and stood at the back of the room, only noticed by a couple of people.

  Despite certainty that he was only interested in Mr. Collins, Darcy’s gaze swept over him, searching the room. To his delight, Elizabeth sat at the pianoforte playing that delicate, sorrowful tune that had washed over them in the foyer. Her voice, lovely and sincere, filled the space. From the corner of his eye, Darcy noted two women dab at their eyes. Finally, Darcy could listen to Elizabeth play and sing, and he wasn’t disappointed. Calmness settled over him as she performed. Worry and fears melted away.

  When her song ended, the room filled with applause. She stood to the sound of protests, but shook her head, declining to play again. As she moved to stand with her mother and Miss Bennet, Miss Mary scrambled forward to take her place.

  “Oh dear,” Miss Bingley said. “Now we shall be subjected to hours of Miss Mary’s squawking. The Bennet sisters are surprisingly devoid of talent.”