His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel

by Nancy Kelley

  "I am not sure Anne knows herself, Georgiana," Darcy said quietly. "You must understand, though we only see Lady Catherine once or twice a year, poor Anne has lived with her all her life."

  Georgiana paled. "Oh, to always be told who you are to like, what you are to think. I do feel sorry for her."

  "As do I. And to answer your most impertinent question, no, I do not plan to marry Anne. I have many reasons, but your point is a valid one. She could not manage the walk..."

  Darcy's voice trailed off, his mind on another young lady who loved to walk, who would rather cross three miles of fields on foot than ride on horseback. He glanced at Georgiana, but she had turned back to her food, believing the conversation to be over. Ah Elizabeth, what must I do to forget you?

  Chapter Fifteen

  As February ended, Darcy was glad for Georgiana's painting on two counts: first, it brought a little light and sunshine into the dreary London winter, and second, it distracted them both from Richard's continued absence. That Richard had hesitated when Darcy asked when he might return did not make him feel any better.

  When a knock on his study door disturbed him late one evening, he knew without being told who it was. "Come in, Richard," he called out and rose to pour some brandy. "You know," he said, his back to the door, "this manner of returning late and unannounced..."

  The words died in his throat when he turned and caught sight of his cousin leaning heavily on the doorframe, his arm up in a sling. "Good God! What happened? Never mind," he said hastily when Richard opened his mouth. "Just sit down before you fall over."

  Richard limped over to a chair and sank into it gratefully. "I believe I will take that brandy, William--thank you." He took a sip and released a sigh of satisfaction. "Excellent, as always. I hope you do not mind if I stay here for a while. I stopped by my rooms first, but they were cold and lonely." He did not explain why he avoided the Fitzwilliam townhouse--both men knew he could not show up there looking so haggard, not without enduring a long line of questions from the Earl and Countess.

  "Of course not. You will want to clean up as much as possible before breakfast, however. I believe your current state would concern Georgiana a great deal."

  "I should be able to dispense with the sling come morning. It was really only necessary to keep my arm from being jolted during travel. That injury at least is nearly healed."

  "What exactly are your injuries? Were you shot?"

  "Shot at," Richard corrected, "which scared my horse. Losing my seat was somewhat ignoble, but it likely saved my life, as the next shot might not have missed. However, I landed awkwardly--you can imagine--and injured my leg."

  "And your arm?"

  Richard's face darkened. "A knife."

  Darcy's fingers tightened on the arm of his chair. "There were two attempts made on your life?" He knew Richard's occupation was dangerous, but he had never expected this.

  "Yes, and it was the second which decided my superiors on returning me to England. An agent of the Crown whose identity has been discovered is of no use."

  "Understandable. Well, I will have Johnston bring you hot water for a bath."

  Richard stood gingerly. "Actually, I already requested one. It should be ready now. Good night, William--I might not make breakfast tomorrow."

  In fact, it was nearly teatime before he showed his face. Darcy and Georgiana were in the salon when he appeared. "Richard!" She half rose, a ready smile on her face. However, a look from Mrs. Annesley settled her back in her seat. "I am glad to see you, Cousin. It has been far too long."

  Richard glanced between Darcy and the companion. "Oh no, this will never do," he said in mock dismay. "I am gone for four months, and the only greeting I receive is one of a decorous young lady? Was I not missed, sweet Georgie, not even a little?"

  "Wretch!" she said on a laugh. "You know you were missed very much. Does the Army not allow you to write, Colonel?" she asked pertly.

  Richard hesitated, and Darcy wondered how he would answer the question. It was not certain to Darcy if he could not write because of the sensitivity of his work, or if he had in fact written and those letters had been intercepted.

  The pause had just become noticeable when Richard smiled. "I did not stay in any one place long enough to write, nor could I receive any letters. If I had, I am sure I would have known how much taller you have become."

  Georgiana straightened in her chair and smiled at him. "I am now nearly as tall as Miss Bingley."

  "Yes, I can see that."

  Richard settled into a chair, and Darcy indicated that Georgiana should order tea. When she had done so, he turned to Richard. "Will you be ready to leave for Kent in a week?"

  Georgiana pouted. "Are you to leave so soon?"

  "I fear we must. Imagine Lady Catherine's displeasure were she to learn you kept us from her side." Georgiana sighed and Richard patted her hand. "Fret not, sweet Cuz, we shall return as soon as we can."

  • • •

  "I am glad you took my advice and left London for a while--though it will be some time before she is back to her old self, Georgiana is much better than she was before. I imagine some of that is just the passage of time, of course."

  Darcy looked across the carriage at his cousin. Though Richard claimed his arm no longer bothered him, he kept his leg stretched out in front of him. "You were right, as you usually are. My presence kept her from regaining her self-confidence." He shook his head. "I do wish she would laugh again. I miss her laughter."

  "She will, Darcy. Just trust her, and yourself."

  Darcy tapped his fingers against his leg. He had not told Richard about seeing Wickham in Hertfordshire, but if they did not change the subject, he would not be able to avoid it. "Yes, well, it seems I am destined to save all those I care about from imprudent matches of late."

  "Really? I could use a good tale. Come, tell me what you have been doing while I was away."

  Darcy shifted in his seat. He had said those words more to himself than to Richard. Mention of Bingley and Miss Bennet would take the conversation far closer to Elizabeth than he wished. Still, this was the most animated he had seen Richard since his return from France.

  "I do not know that there is a great deal to tell," he said with a shrug. "A friend of mine came quite close to offering for a young lady this winter, but I was able to persuade him to do otherwise."

  Richard raised one dark eyebrow. "I value your opinion, William, but when I choose my bride, I would appreciate it if you did not interfere."

  Darcy snorted. "When you choose your bride, she will be worthy of the name. I know you, Richard. You are not a romantic. You are far too practical."

  Richard laughed. "True--that is one thing the Army has given me, at least. So tell me, what was lacking in this young lady? Fortune?"

  "Yes, though that was not my primary concern. My friend has more than enough to provide for a wife and children. Her family, however..." Darcy shuddered.

  "Was she not a gentleman's daughter?"

  Darcy flinched at the echo of Bingley's own words. "She was, but her family connections would do nothing for his standing in Society."

  Richard carefully stretched his leg out in front of him. "William, you know that not everyone is looking for the same high connections you are."

  "Yes, but I imagine most men would like to see a semblance of propriety in their family," he countered.

  "Was the lady herself lacking?"

  Darcy pursed his lips. "No, most of the objections were against her family. I cannot tell you the vulgar displays I was forced to witness. Why, I believe her mother already had the wedding planned."

  Richard grinned, and Darcy was relieved to see his cousin's playful spirit returning. "By that count, you must despise most of the women in town. They have all had you married to their daughters for years."

  Darcy laughed and shook his head. "It will take more than the will of the matchmaking mama to convince me to marry."

  "True, or you would be wed to our cou
sin by now. Tell me, how long will you let her continue to believe you will marry her?"

  "I beg your pardon," Darcy said stiffly. "I have never misled Anne."

  "Oh no, not Anne--I am sure she is very aware you do not intend to marry her. But what of our aunt?"

  Darcy raked his hand through his hair. "That is not a conversation I relish. I prefer to postpone it until I can present my engagement as a fait accompli."

  "So much for the vaunted Darcy integrity!"

  "As a military man, you will, I am sure, be familiar with the phrase, 'Discretion is the better part of valor.'"

  Their laughter softened the jolts as the carriage passed over ruts left by spring rains, and the hours of their journey passed swiftly by. All too soon, they reached the palings of Rosings Park, and Richard put a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "Are you ready to see your future bride?" he jested.

  "Alas, I fear she will not have me," he joked in return.

  They rounded a bend and Hunsford rectory came into view. A figure of a man was visible standing outside along the road, and Darcy stiffened with a sudden certainty that he knew who it was. Sure enough, Mr. Collins sketched one of his odd little bows as they passed. Darcy nodded in reply, and Richard looked at him curiously.

  "Do you know him, William?"

  "He is Mr. Collins, our aunt's new parson. He introduced himself to me in Hertfordshire."

  Richard's eyes widened. "He introduced himself to you?"

  "He did."

  "I see. And how did you meet him in Hertfordshire, if he is the rector of Hunsford?"

  Darcy ran his hand over the soft satin lining of the carriage. The conversation veered dangerously close to the Bennets, and for a moment he thought he could change the subject. A glance at Richard revealed an intent expression, and he shrugged. "He visited family in the neighborhood."

  "How lucky for him to meet a family member of his patroness."

  "I believe that is precisely what he thought." Darcy groaned and rested his head against the side of the carriage. "You cannot comprehend how ridiculous a man he is, you truly cannot. I would be glad to avoid his presence for the whole of our visit."

  They arrived at Rosings before Richard could reply. The butler's familiar face greeted them at the door. "Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, her ladyship has asked you to join her for tea in the small salon."

  "Of course, Brewster. Thank you."

  The butler bowed, and the gentleman walked down a short hallway and into the room indicated. "Darcy, Fitzwilliam. Come here at once! What has detained you--we expected you half an hour ago, did we not, Anne?"

  Darcy bowed over his aunt's outstretched hand and kissed it. "We were not detained, Aunt. We had fine weather the entire way from London. However, I do wish you had let us clean up before we greeted you; I am sure our journey did not leave us fresh."

  She waved her hand at him. "Anne would not hear of any delay in seeing you after so long. She has missed you both excessively, have you not, Anne?"

  Darcy turned to his cousin, whose faint blush strongly reminded him of someone, though he could not quite figure out whom. "And how have you been, Cousin?" he asked felicitously.

  Anne raised her hands to her neck, where they fluttered uselessly for a minute before they dropped back to her lap. "I have been well enough, William," she replied, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear it.

  "Winter is the greatest discomfort to Anne, Darcy," Lady Catherine said, as if the Lord had created the season to vex her child, "but she bears up admirably."

  "The cold does seem to settle in my bones," the young lady admitted.

  "Then it is good we had a mild winter this year," Darcy observed. He took a seat next to Richard, who, except for that first greeting, had been completely ignored until this point. "Indeed, we were saying on the journey here that we have never known an earlier spring."

  "Ah, but you do not recall spring four years ago then," Lady Catherine said. "Why, I had roses blooming in April that year."

  Her soliloquy on spring lasted some minutes, and Darcy paid only the barest amount of attention. Anne caught his eye and shrugged apologetically; he smiled in return. He felt nothing but pity for his cousin, trapped by a mother who could only embarrass her.

  He sat upright. That is who she reminded me of--Jane Bennet, when her mother was so obviously attempting to snare Bingley.

  The conversation took a turn then that drew his attention. "Though, the Bishops are in town for the Season, which leaves us with paltry company. Of course, there is the rector Mr. Collins and his wife..."

  "Mr. Collins is married?" Darcy broke in. Surely not Elizabeth...

  "Of course. I advised him to take a wife, and he saw the wisdom in my suggestion. He went to Hertfordshire last fall for the express purpose."

  "I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Collins when I visited my friend Mr. Bingley in that neighborhood, but I had not heard of his marriage. Pray, tell me which of the local ladies became his wife?"

  "Mrs. Collins was Miss Charlotte Lucas before her marriage," Lady Catherine answered, and Darcy fought to remain upright against the onslaught of relief. "Did you meet with her there?"

  "Only in passing. I believe her to be a very practical sort of lady." Except in her choice of spouse.

  Richard stood abruptly and bowed. "Thank you for your forbearance, Aunt, but I believe Darcy and I have tarried long enough. If we do not retire to our rooms now, we will not have time to change for dinner."

  She looked down her nose at the elder of her nephews. "Very well, Fitzwilliam," she conceded. "But you will remember we dine early --"

  "So as not to tax Anne," he finished smoothly and bowed over his cousin's hand. "We shall see you in a few hours, I hope?"

  The tired lines on her forehead eased and she graced him with a small but genuine smile. "Of course, Richard. We will see you at dinner."

  After the gentlemen left the salon, Richard turned to Darcy. "I have a question for you, William, if you have a minute."

  "Of course. Shall we go to the study?" The study at Rosings Park was largely unused, there being no male in residence. Even Lady Catherine would not interrupt them there. "What did you wish to ask?" Darcy said once the door was shut.

  Richard leaned against the wall, his arms folded in front of him. "You showed an unusual interest in Mrs. Collins. Is there anything regarding your stay in Hertfordshire you wish to tell me?"

  Darcy's pulse sped up, but he remained outwardly calm. "What do you mean?"

  "You did not form an attachment to Miss Lucas yourself, did you?"

  Darcy laughed--Richard was so close and yet so wildly off target. "Not at all, I assure you. If we have the opportunity to meet Mrs. Collins, you will see she is as far from my ideal wife as you could imagine. I was merely curious," he repeated.

  Richard put his hand on the door and looked Darcy over. Apparently he was satisfied Darcy told the truth, for he smiled and said, "Very well then. I shall leave you to dress for dinner."

  Darcy grinned. "Yes, thank you for getting us away from Aunt Catherine."

  Richard shook his head. "Do not thank me yet. I have not the patience to be ignored on this trip, and I am likely to make you uncomfortable." Before Darcy could ask what he meant, the door swung shut in his face.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Richard's meaning became abundantly clear at breakfast the next morning.

  Aware of their aunt's habit of lying in bed with her chocolate until late morning, the two cousins always made sure to rise with the dawn. Those morning hours were often their only moments of peace and quiet.

  On this morning, however, Brewster interrupted their solitude with an announcement. "Mr. Collins is here to see you, Mr. Darcy."

  Before Darcy could order him sent away, Richard said, "Show him in, Brewster." The butler bowed and retreated, and Richard looked over at Darcy. "I did tell you I would likely make you uncomfortable, did I not?"

  "You did," Darcy acknowledged, "but in this particular instance I bel
ieve you will come to regret your penchant for teasing me."

  "Oh? What do you mean?"

  Darcy gestured to the door, which opened to admit Mr. Collins. "Mr. Darcy!" He bowed to the appropriate level for a duke, and the cousins exchanged amused glances over his back. "I am glad to see you in good health, sir. How good it is of you to give attendance to your noble aunt. I have often told her ladyship that if a member of the court were to come to Kent, it would be to pay honor to her, rather than the other way around."

  "Quite so, sir," Darcy said, enjoying the look on Richard's face. "I understand you have lately married. Allow me to wish you happy."