When the front door closed on the obviously awkward pair, Arabella rose and went to the window. She watched as they started out. Lizzy set a fast pace and kept a large distance between them. Something had happened. Maybe it was an argument of some kind. That would fit their current behaviour and would also help clarify why they had not returned together yesterday as expected. Lizzy’s vague and vexing explanation and Maurice’s drunken condition made her think it was something of significance. She wondered if he had offered and Lizzy had turned him down. If that was the case she pitied her niece’s lack of judgement very much, and she thought Mr. Darcy must somehow figure into it.

If only that bothersome man would go away! He had neither the intention of lowering himself in his own eyes nor in the eyes of his friends, or he would have taken the step and not beaten about the bushes with clandestine meetings and rare visits. His very countenance when he was in Lizzy’s presence spoke volumes. He spent half the time staring out of the window, seemingly wishing he were anywhere but here with her. It was clear he would not have her, and yet there was nothing she could do to make Lizzy see her folly in pining for that man while she let a perfectly good one pass her by.

Why did her niece not see Mr. Darcy as the weak man he was? She was a bright girl who deserved someone who would challenge that intellect. Mr. Darcy was not the one. There were no original thoughts within him. He might be rich, but he was created by well meaning and over indulgent parents. He was constructed of all shining surfaces with no substance underneath. Lizzy would wilt under his care and not blossom as she would with Maurice.

She sighed heavily. Holding her locket in her left hand, she fingered the clasp, opening and closing it over and over again. Her wedding band clicking against its gold casing as she wondered whether it might be best to send Lizzy home early or if maybe it was time to write to her brother and inform him of what was going on with his favourite daughter.

“Maman?”

Holly had come in by way of the kitchen and was carrying a tray with a pot of tea. She set it down now and took a seat in front of it.

“I had called to you twice before I could gather your attention. You must have been somewhere far away to be so distracted.”

“I suppose I was, dear.”

“Tell me where. What were you thinking?”

“I was just contemplating birds, Holly, and how one in the hand is better than any number in the bush. Perhaps you might tell me how one might convey such an idea to a silly young girl who knows little of birds or hunting?”

Holly opened her mouth as if to answer, and then closed it again in confusion. Finally she laughed and said, “I see you were quite some distance off, Mother. So far that I am left behind in bewilderment! Please do enlighten me.”

“Be a dear and pour, it has steeped enough since you poured the water over it in the kitchen, and while you do that I will ask you to enlighten me. Tell me what Lizzy shared about her afternoon yesterday. I would not ask normally, as I know you two must have your secrets, but in this case I think it is wise that I be informed for her own good.”

When Holly seemed to hesitate, she urged her with, “Lizzy is in my care, and she is my responsibility as long as she is under my roof. You must understand that, Holly. I care a great deal for her just as you do, but I feel that something is amiss, and I would be there for her if she is in over her head and needs me.”

Holly set a cup before each of them and grimly answered. “Maman, I would happily tell you anything you asked, for you know I withhold nothing from you. I hesitate only because I do not know anything. Lizzy does not confide in me anymore.” Holly seemed even more fretful now. “Or maybe she does, but I feel she does not tell me everything. Not like before, Maman, and I admit I have been troubled by it lately. Even more so now that I am aware you worry for her too.”

“Do not fret, dear. It is not as dire as all of that.” Arabella patted her daughter’s hand. “I just fear that she may make foolish decisions in her self imposed isolation. I fear that she will lose her heart into the wrong keeping.”

“Well, if that is your fear, Maman, I am afraid you are too late. Lizzy has already lost it! She did that before she even came to us, and it seems to me she is not working very hard to get it back!”

“To Mr. Darcy then?”

“Yes. To Mr. Darcy. Of all people!”

“It is what I thought then.” Mrs. Tournier shook her head sadly. “If it is like that, then you would do well to try and help Lizzy. You should tell her about the birds, Holly. Tell her the bushes are no place to find a heart – or to keep one.”

Arabella smiled indulgently at her daughter’s quizzical stare.

“Never mind, my dear. Your mother is just being all wise and mysterious again. At least she thinks she is, so we both shall pretend it is so.” She gave Holly a rare grin. “Now, tell me how your day went, please, for I am in need of a subject as solid and quiet as a library in flux.”

“Solid may describe the books, Maman, but I do not think I would exactly use the word quiet regarding the room.”

“Child, do not tell me you argued with Lord Brougham yet again?”

“Then I will not. For I was not the one to argue…”

Vian walked along at the brisk pace Miss Bennet had set, sure that she would indeed be running if she could in order to make this time alone with him as short as possible. The thought that disturbed and saddened him most however, was that she might just be moving so quickly out of fear, as if to achieve a distance and speed that would allow her to keep safely out of his clutches.

He had been uneasy in his mind about what was to come next from the moment the painful rays of the sun had brought him to consciousness. Their touch had felt like the stab of a knife as he lay in bed, eyes fuzzy, head aching, and with a tongue seemingly made of cotton. He had lain there wondering what Elizabeth had said of their misadventure when she had arrived home last evening. Dragging himself out of the shelter of his blankets, he had decided to meet whatever his aunt would say to him directly and at once, certain he would find himself on the road out of town before noon. Part of him wished for that outcome, and he would simply arrange it himself if he did not have something else to do before he left.

He had to admit that he was almost disappointed when his godmother greeted him warmly and with a great deal of sympathy for his apparent condition. Anger and indignation would have suited him better. He could have then at least wrapped himself in the cloak of the villain or played the part of the vastly misunderstood man. However, being greeted in this kind manner by her gave him no outlet for his own disappointment and self-loathing. Yet Mrs. Tournier’s poking and prodding in an effort to try and glean information from him about last evening made him realize that Miss Bennet had shared nothing about it at all. As much as it might be easier to hate Miss Bennet, he could not. She was the woman he thought her to be and more, for she had managed to sidestep such a skilful interrogator as Mrs. Tournier, who surely had been hammering away at her all evening trying to gain information. His already high respect for Elizabeth grew in prominence as he wondered in awe how she had managed it. It must have taken some doing and much perseverance on her part, and he knew it could not have been easy for her.

He now stole a sideways glance at his companion and wondered what exactly it was she did think and feel about yesterday’s events? In her eyes was he only a brute who did not know how to take no for an answer, or was he instead some pathetic man who wanted something that was beyond his reach – something that clearly belonged to another? And a prize the other man did not care for nor covet at that! If only she knew it…

He was unsure how to even begin to breach the awkward silence between them, but he knew he must. Somehow. He needed to at least tell her that he had meant no harm, that he had misunderstood and that she need not fear him, for he could not stay, nor did he wish to leave, with her thinking such things of him – even if he could not have her.

“Miss Bennet…” he began tentatively.

She glanced over at him quickly, seemingly almost startled by his voice, and then just as quickly looked away.

“Miss Bennet, I would like to offer my apologies for my behaviour yesterday.”

She said nothing, not that he had expected her to, and he stumbled on.

“I would only wish you to… to know that I did not have a proper understanding of what you… I did not realize that you meant it when…” What could he say that would not make it worse? “I wish you to know that I am truly sorry, and you need have no fear that I… I am sorry I had not realised I was acting against your wishes earlier, but I assure you nothing of the sort will ever happen again.” He looked at her and quietly added, “I could never hurt you.”

She continued to walk on, not acknowledging that he had even spoken.

“Miss Bennet, at least say something. We shall have to endure each other’s company for a while longer. We cannot do it in complete silence. I think you must know that.”

She spun on her heels to face him; her eyes flashing with the anger she seemed now prepared to shower on him in answer.

“What would you have me say that you will now comprehend, Monsieur? For it seems that you have great difficulty in that area where my words are concerned! Might I ask if you now have a proper understanding that I mean exactly what I say when I say it? For surely that is the confusion you began to express in your apology – that my wishes were somehow incomprehensible! Perhaps you are simply used to women who play such games. I might only ask if you are crystal clear on the subject now, then?”

His eyes flashed with indignation of his own. She may as well have slapped him, for her words had the same effect. “Quite!”

She briskly turned away and started off again, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head in the process.

They went the rest of the way in silence, him letting her work out her anger by force-marching them at a speed that put a new focus on his crapulence*, his head aching all the more.

Vian had waited outside while Elizabeth had gone in to post the letters. She came out to find him leaning against the building in the shade, his eyes closed. She noted that he did not look well at all. His face looked almost ashen and the area under his eyes was darkly lined with shadows. Her anger had subsided somewhat by this time, and so she took some pity on his condition, reminding herself that there were two sides to every story, and she partly knew his. Even though she thought some of his conclusions about her were incorrect, it only gave her more cause to pity him at least a little. After all, he had only acted on what he thought he knew to be true. Exactly how often had she herself done the same sort of thing and been proven to be wrong in the end? More times than she would like to admit.

“Monsieur,” she spoke quietly, “are you ready to return or would you like a moment?”

He opened his eyes and gazed at her, surprise written on his face as he answered.

“I am ready now if you have no other errands.”

She gave a shake of her head. “I have no others.”

They set off at a somewhat slower pace this time, though the distance between them remained the same. She may have felt slightly sorry for him at the moment, but she had no intention of letting him read any encouragement in her actions.

She said nothing, only allowed the silence to continue and took the time to give the current situation its due consideration, for she had to admit that in her elation this morning, snugly encased in Mr. Darcy’s embrace, she had not given it proper thought at all. The reality of having Mr. Vian ensconced at Rosefarm had not come to her until she had found herself standing before her aunt this afternoon – when it was far too late to do anything but be stunned by it.

Of course things would be much simpler if he would leave as soon as possible, but this was no time for such selfishness on her part. There was Holly and Mrs. Tournier to consider. The situation with Mr. Tidwell must to be dealt with for their sake. She herself was happily situated. She had all she could need or ask for as of this morning, and she could afford to be charitable. A few uncomfortable moments were a small price to pay when she had so much to look forward to for herself.

Glancing over at Mr. Vian’s profile as he walked along next to her, she wondered how might she feel if she were in his shoes. If she had lost the one she wanted with all her heart and soul to another woman, and even worse, now had to admit to herself that it never was in her power to have it end any other way? Depression and devastation would surely follow. Had she not already felt that many times over these last several weeks when she thought her own situation with Mr. Darcy was hopeless? While she did not truly know exactly how Monsieur Vian viewed the situation regarding herself or his own loss, she had to assume that his feelings were real and valid to him, and she did know enough to realise it could not be easy for him. She resolved to show forbearance for whatever was to come and to do what she could to make things as normal as possible at Rosefarm as long as he remained there.

She was not so foolish or optimistic as to think it would be without its challenges or complications though, and that was where the problem lay. Her aunt would be the hardest obstacle to overcome, and since Lizzy did not want Mr. Vian to gather a wrong impression from her behaviour, he would have to be a willing partner in the subterfuge when others were around. This would require some unpleasant and blunt conversation with him now, but she supposed there was no better time than the present to put her newly found resolve into practice.

“Monsieur, this is not only an uncomfortable situation for us both, but an uncomfortable subject as well, so please forgive me, but I must speak on it further.

“You were correct in saying that we cannot spend the rest of your necessary time here not speaking to each other. It would lead to too many awkward situations, especially with Mrs. Tournier and my cousin, who are very inquisitive women. Both of them are already unsatisfied with my answers last evening about why we did not return together. While they did finally leave the subject, they are not likely to remain quiet if any further questions were to come to their minds regarding our behaviour towards each other.”

“I know of what you speak all too well after spending the morning in an inquisition myself. I must also add that you had my full sympathy this morning when I realised what you must have endured upon returning alone – and my admiration.”

She wondered if he understood that what she had just said was only to make things easier and not intended as a way to build a bridge between the two of them.

“Please do not concern yourself on my account. I assume we both would not wish to see either of them hurt in any way…”

“Miss Bennet, you need not worry that I will misinterpret any future actions on your part when others are present. I am well aware of what your wishes and intentions are, I assure you.”

She held his gaze for a moment, showing him a very solemn countenance to make sure there could be no mistake, before she added, “If there is anything I might do… any information I might provide to be of assistance to you in your efforts on Miss Tournier’s behalf, please do not hesitate to ask it of me.”

“I thank you for your offer. I will take care of it and be on my way as soon as may be, if that is what you are trying to discover.”

She was frustrated with his response, but not surprised by the bitterness she heard in it. Looking away she answered his tone with quiet resignation. “It was not my intention. I am not simple. I know it is unlikely that I could be of any help to you in such a situation, but I would still offer my aid all the same.”

It was a long moment before he softly responded, “I will be sure to let you know if there is anything you might do.”

There was nothing else they could say to each other, although there was much left unsaid. They arrived back to Rosefarm, an uneasy truce ruling their every move in relation to each other. Things would be far from the same, but it would suffice for now.

Having posted the letter, Darcy decided there were more things that should be taken care of that afternoon. He stopped his horse in front of the Caledonian Thistle and, once inside, enquired about lodgings for his solicitor. Having arranged it, he then asked after his men who were already staying there. He ordered an ale to be brought to a corner table while he waited.

The same smiling barmaid who had served him before brought the drink, and Darcy accepted it in stern silence. Soon, his driver appeared before him.

“Sit down, Nichols.” Darcy pointed to the chair with a slight nod of his head. “Is there anything you need?”

“Nay, Sir, the arrangements you made are sufficient.”

Darcy nodded, but entering customers diverted his attention. Nichols’ eyes followed those of his master curiously. Tidwell took a stool at the bar and ordered a drink, sneaking a lusty peak at the barmaid’s cleavage.

Darcy returned to his own conversation. “I saw you at the fair yesterday,”

“Aye, Sir. We thought we might go since we have no duties here so far. I hope you do not mind.”

“No, I do not.”

“This gentleman…” Nichols began hesitantly.

“What gentleman?”

“The one that just entered. Mr. Tidwell.”

“Yes?” Darcy’s awareness rose.

“I saw him bother that lady yesterday. The one that was accompanying you.”

“Yes.”

“He was also talking about her. I thought you might want to know.”

“I do.”

“I would rather not repeat everything.” Nichols hesitated. “I would not like to offend, but he said this is no lady. Her sister ran off with a man.”

“Anything else?”

“No, Sir.”

“Her sister is married to my old friend, an officer in the regulars. If anyone talks about it again you are to tell them that.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Is there anything else you know about the man?”

“Aye. He’s a mighty figure here. A customs officer. He drinks at the innkeeper’s expense all the time.”

“Does he? A regular customer? I would think it would be quite a financial burden for the innkeeper.”

“Aye, Sir. He comes almost every day.”

“Anything else?”

“It seems half of the neighbourhood is in his pocket. They say he charges heavily for his services.”

“The innkeeper too?”

“That I do not know, but the pretty barmaid here often takes him upstairs.”

“Thank you, Nichols. That will be all.”

Darcy stayed behind at his table after his driver had left, slowly nursing his beer and observing Tidwell while pondering the situation regarding that man. When the object of his study was ready to leave, and there was no point in remaining there any longer, he tossed some coins onto the table and made his way to the door.

Once outside however, he waited before mounting his horse, as something Tidwell was saying caught his attention.

“If Tournier can apply her tongue to other tasks as well as she does to lashing out at men she might be quite a toy.”

“I must say I would not mind availing myself of such services,” his friend chuckled, “but she strikes me as rather a prudish woman, Tidwell. Do you not think it too? I cannot imagine her bending down for any man.”

“They are all like that at first. I dare say if she was not as flat as a board I would have taken the trouble and been over her by now.”

“So that is why you now go after her cousin!”

“Certainly it is!” He grinned. “Now that one has everything a man desires to put his hands on, and in abundance, but she keeps her nose too high. She probably thinks the richer gents are the way to go.”

“And you think she is wrong.”

“I think she will be sorry, Gordon. Gentle treatment is not what her kind needs, she only does not know it yet.”

Gordon laughed at his companion’s words. “You always think you know the lassies well, Tidwell.”

“You mark my words and you shall see I am proven right in the end. Whomever she ends with, she is going to cheat on him with a stable boy who knows how to take her really hard.”

“And Tournier? She will not?”

“Tournier will go with whomever once she learns what she is missing. Bennet strikes me as the one who is ripe and ready to trade her bounties now though. There is always time to come back to Miss Tournier later. I shall have them both in the end.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightened, and his fists clenched as he listened to the exchange. His normally cool reasoning was blurred by fury. He moved purposefully towards the men, his eyes locked with Tidwell’s, but a fraction of a second later the connection was broken by a flurry of movement coming from the side and the man suddenly lay flat on ground.

“Maybe that will teach you how to speak of ladies!” Vian said through clenched teeth while standing over Tidwell, rubbing his right fist.

Gordon eyed both Darcy and Vian cautiously, his gaze also taking in his friend who now lay prostrate before him. Tidwell’s nose was bleeding profusely and appeared to be set at an odd angle to the rest of his features.

“I am not looking for any trouble, gentlemen,” he offered tentatively. When no further move was made towards Tidwell or himself other than angry stares, he carefully made no sudden movements as he lifted his friend by the shoulders and dragged him backward to the inn door, Tidwell’s heels leaving a trail in the dirt along the way. Giving one last look at the two still standing there, he managed to open the door and pull his burden inside.

Once the door was kicked closed by Gordon, Vian turned his anger on Darcy. He thought it obvious, after having observed him stand there and do nothing at all just now, that his supposed defence of Miss Bennet yesterday was merely a reaction of Darcy’s own wounded pride that he might lose his mistress to another. It seemed he felt no such worry where Tidwell was concerned.

“You know, I find it curious that you will fight me with your sword but do not react at all when such scum speaks so offensively of the very same woman whose honour you claimed to be defending yesterday.”

“And you think you have stopped him for long?”

“You think you have stopped me?” Vian smirked.

“Vian, if you assault Miss Bennet again I will have your head,” Darcy said coolly.

“I would not do that.” Vian was offended. It was not what he had meant at all, and Darcy was simply obtuse if he thought it. “But it does not follow that I would not take care of her when she is in need.”

“I thank you for that, but Miss Bennet does not need you as her protector.”

“It does not seem you are doing very well on your own.” Vian gave a vigorous nod in the direction of the inn’s door.

“Tidwell will start his slander again as soon as he comes to. Your behaviour may have led only to more unwanted gossip. I bet the whole inn is now alive with speculation.”

“That will all cease once I deal with him for good.”

Darcy looked Vian directly in the eyes. “Once we do.”

“Darcy, I can hardly see any we exists. You did not seriously think I would let you meddle in my family’s affairs, did you?”

“Miss Bennet is not your family.”

“Yours either, nor is she ever likely to be, but Miss Tournier is my responsibility, and if by helping her I can also be of service to Miss Bennet then all the better.”

Darcy sighed heavily. “There is little sense for us to argue about our respective responsibilities. You have every right to protect your family, and I have mine to protect my… Miss Bennet.”

“Your what Darcy? Your interests in your petite protégée?”

“Leave it!” Darcy’s glare left no room for any further remark from Vian. He had no patience for it. Ready to depart, his feet already in the stirrups, he added, “Our main focus should be on Tidwell. You should reconsider your unwillingness to cooperate with me. I have information that might help you.”

“Thank you, but I have found my own source of information. I do not need your help.”

“As you wish, Vian, but you should know that I will not stand idly by if it appears your pride will get in the way of your solving this Tidwell business.”

Darcy turned his horse to leave, then thoughtfully turned back and added, “You should also know that gaining Miss Bennet’s gratitude will not win you her affection.”

“Nothing would, Darcy, would it?”

“No, but a cool head might gain you her respect. Good afternoon, Vian.”

Darcy urged his horse into a trot and left.

*We couldn’t use the word hangover since its origins lay in the 20th century, so we used crapulence instead, which means sickness or indisposition resulting from excess in drinking or eating.

This story is written by Laura and Sylwia, and they own full © copyrights to it.

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