An Unexpected Ally

Part 10

Richard could not recall ever feeling so happy. Here he was surrounded by friends - by family - and he turned to Darcy as Mr Bennet poured all three gentlemen yet another generous measure of brandy.

"Well, what a fine evening for celebration this has turned into." Raising his glass, he saluted his soon-to-be son-in-law and took a hearty sip. "I suppose I must offer thanks to the absent Colonel Forster for bringing you here, to begin with!"

"Aye." Richard chuckled. "I shall tell him so myself when next we meet."

"How long are you to remain in post?"

Darcy's question was a genuine one, but something about his tone of voice made Richard's smile dim.

"My end date is not quite fixed." He nursed his drink, watching the light glint on the rippling surface of the amber liquor. "But I have leave enough accrued to be able to take some time to consider my plans." He shrugged. "I have felt for some time that military life has run its course for me. I have no desire to go back to the front, and at present it does not seem I am needed."

"No, indeed! You have done your part and earned some peace," Mr Bennet agreed. "Property, then. An estate." He eyed Darcy from behind his glasses. "Perhaps Netherfield Park will be open to you, as it does not seem as if its current tenants are eager to extend their lease."

Richard frowned. There was more to this question than logistics and living quarters. He watched his cousin shift uncomfortably in his seat, at last returning a question that was little more than a grunt.

"T'would suit, I am sure."

"I suppose you will write to your sister of the news," Mr Bennet continued, in that same unflinching tone that suggested he would not ask outright that which he wished to know but deduce it from words Darcy did not say. "She will be pleased, do you think?"

"Oh, undoubtedly." Darcy smiled, but he barely met Richard's gaze. "What lady is not delighted by the news of an engagement?"

Richard's lips quirked. He could think of ladies enough of his acquaintance who would not rejoice at the news of his marrying.

At least I am not you, Darcy, he thought, wordlessly watching his cousin as he took a sip of his drink. Their shared aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had made her plans for Darcy's future painfully clear. Were he to even think of forming a friendship - let alone marrying - someone who was not her own daughter Anne there would be hell to pay.

She does not have the same preoccupation with my matrimonial future, Richard mused, wondering if he ought to be offended by being given such freedom. His brother would not care either, except to remark that it was beyond time Richard settled down and embraced a more gentlemanly, settled lifestyle. By which he would mean, of course, that he will no longer be expected to play host to me when I am between engagements. The thought occurred to him then, as it had not done before, that he might, in marrying Jane and securing a home of his own, be spared the trouble of ever stepping foot across the threshold of his familial estate again. The thought was strangely sobering, and he did not realise how far his features had fallen until Mr Bennet remarked upon it.

"Why so glum, Richard? Here, have another drink." He had poured a second heavy measure before Richard could stop him, and he smiled briskly in gratitude.

"Not glum," he assured his companions. "Just reflecting for a moment." He took a sip of his brandy, grimacing at the burning sensation as he swallowed. "It is not every day one proposes, after all."

"I should hope not!" Mr Bennet chuckled, drinking his measure down and pouring another.

Only Darcy's glass remained three-quarters full. He was nursing it, not drinking it, which drew Richard's curiosity. The brandy was his gift, after all, and a fine vintage. His cousin was not particularly given to sobriety, particularly not when politeness dictated he drink, and this was a day of celebration, was it not?

Yet Darcy still looked grim, his features serious, belying the smiles and congratulations he had offered Richard when first official news of the engagement reached him. He does not approve. The thought struck Richard all at once, passing through his mind almost as quickly as it registered there. And what do I care if he does not? My life is my own: it's no business of Darcy's who I associate with.

This brought to mind another associate, one whose presence neither man had discussed in their brief reunion. The time would come, Richard supposed, for Wickham to be mentioned but he certainly would not seek to do so. How could he admit to Darcy that he not only worked with Wickham - which circumstance was somewhat beyond his control - but that the man had become almost a friend? Almost, Richard reminded himself darkly. I still do not trust him. I learnt that lesson only too well years ago. But he is useful to me...and doubtless, I am, to him. He was not quite persuaded Wickham's assistance was entirely altruistic. There would be a cost exacted, he was certain, and when it came he must be ready to pay or risk who knew what level of destruction. Wickham might be a poor friend but he was a far worse enemy, and Richard was unwilling to unleash him on the happy life he was finally building here, with Jane Bennet at his side.

"Well!" Mr Bennet declared, slamming his empty glass down on the table with a thud. "Let us return and join the ladies. I have no doubt they are missing us!"

Richard returned Mr Bennet's chuckle with a smile but noticed that Darcy's features remained impassive. He wondered that his cousin had never mentioned knowing the Bennets, or at least never mentioned how well they seemed to be acquainted with one another. He supposed it was a given, with Netherfield Park lying so close by. He must ask what Mr and Miss Bingley had made of them, for whilst he had met Darcy's friends only once or twice he remembered them being amiable and friendly.

"Ah, Mary is playing!" Mr Bennet remarked as the trio of gentlemen made a weaving path down the corridor towards the parlour. "How quiet Longbourn has been without her here!" He winced, as she hit a wrong note. "And how in-need of a tune that old piano grows."

"She plays well," Darcy said, with a fervent loyalty that surprised Richard. He turned to look at his cousin and saw the slightest hint of a smile. "And I wager music proved a key component of the friendship she formed with Georgiana."

"Georgiana!" Lydia exclaimed, catching Darcy's last word as the door opened to admit the gentlemen into the room. "We were just talking about her. This piece was hers, so Mary said."

"What a shame you could not bring her with you!" Kitty declared, from her position lolling on a settee. She scrambled to sit up, blushing and giggling at being caught in such a repose by guests.

"You will bring her to the wedding, of course," Mrs Bennet remarked, turning to scowl at Mary, whose playing had trailed off as she listened, and who began again with fervour before any critical comment could be made in the ensuing silence.

"The wedding?" Darcy looked at Richard, momentarily thunderstruck, and even Richard could think of no comment to offer. Eager he might be to see Georgiana as well as her brother, but he certainly would not hurry to invite her to Hertfordshire when Wickham was still prowling around.

Although, he reasoned. Wickham seems to have another young lady in his sights, and one for better-equipped to hold her own against his worst characteristics than Georgiana might have been.

His mind ran on, tempting him with a version of the future when they might be able to at least consider Georgiana coming here. Wickham must be securely entangled with another, if not gone altogether. He frowned. There must be some regimental business he could concoct to send Wickham away for the duration of the wedding, and if he did as his so-called-friend had asked and helped smooth the way for a union with Elizabeth Bennet, Georgiana would be safe on two sides. Richard's eyes strayed to the corner seat where Elizabeth sat with her newly-returned father and wondered if he dared support such a match. Darcy hovered towards them, seeming drawn to that particular corner and another thought dawned on Richard, so sharp and sudden and unhelpful that he pushed it away, turning instead to greet Jane with a smile. He would not think of Wickham tonight. That was a problem he could concern himself with tomorrow. This evening he would simply relish his good fortune, and dream of the future he might have with the beautiful Jane Bennet as his bride.