“Darcy”, he said as they entered the house, “I find myself in ardent need of a drink and a slap on the head.”

Darcy, who had grown genuinely tired with his friend’s recent chain of mishaps, raised his brow at the suggestion. “You may be assured of my lending my hand to slap your head. Whether you deserve a drink still remains to be seen.”

“It is not so much what I deserve but what I need.”

Brougham slouched into his chair in the library with mixed feelings, sulking and brooding. He started to tap the arm of the chair unwittingly.

Darcy approached the drink tray and poured for them both. If for no other reason, at least the glass would occupy Brougham’s fingers so that the irritating sound would cease.

“Yes, quite.” Brougham accepted the glass and took a sip. “Right. All in all, this was not a good afternoon.”

Darcy chose patience as his approach and took a seat in another chair, slowly twirling his glass in one hand, waiting for his friend to compose his thoughts into a coherent stream.

“Right!” Brougham said, taking another sip. “I can have the drink in advance, and we can introduce the slapping later. And I am well aware of what those two fists of yours can do, so that order may even be advisable.

“I might also talk in the meantime, but I have not yet quite decided about that. Although, on the other hand, it might help in discovering whether the slap is deserved at all. Perhaps I should, indeed, only be rewarded with a drink. Or two.”

He stared at his glass until he decided to drain it in one go, and grabbed the bottle to pour himself another dose. He looked at Darcy, who was eyeing him quizzically, and spoke.

“I am a fool, Darcy. A damned fool! Surely otherwise I would know what a gentleman is supposed to do in a case such as this. Instead, in my utter idiocy, I cannot decide whether the right action was to have offended her feelings or destroy her reputation. And in my indecisiveness I might have done both.”

He rose and paced about the room, his steps performing a squared pattern reminiscent of a turn in a dance.

“If a lady is in a need of a gentleman’s arm, he offers it. If a lady outstretches her hand, a gentleman places a kiss on it. If a lady kisses a gentleman on the lips…

“Now, Darcy, please be so good and advise me on this! What on earth should a gentleman do in an instance such as this?! I know already that kissing her back was not what she desired. Should I have pushed her away then? Did she kiss me because she wished to be pushed? Where is the logic in that?! Should kissing gentlemen not be forbidden to prevent confusion such as this?!

“Oh, this was one damned afternoon!”

Darcy was watching Brougham with no less confusion than before his speech began. “Could you provide some more details on this?”

“Right. Oh, well. There is not much more really. Well. Here. We went outside, and I blame that on you by the way, for it was done on my part only to prevent Miss Tournier from occupying Miss Bennet since I knew you had wished to talk to her. So we went outside, under the pretext of discussing plants, and I am not certain exactly what was said about that. But then she said something about trying to do favours for friends, and so I thought she saw through me, so I admitted that I had disappointed my friend and felt it was my responsibility to remedy my shortcomings in order to avoid his wrath. And then she said something that I did not exactly comprehend so I looked at her for explanation and then she kissed me.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and?”

“You said she kissed you and then she slapped you. What happened between the kiss and the slap then?”

“Right. Then. Well. She kissed me, and I kissed her back. First, it never occurred to me to not kiss a young woman back when she so pleasantly employs her lips. Second, I took lessons on manners, and I was taught to never refuse a lady. Third, it is not exactly a moment when I am used to applying my mind in general, and so I believe I was not thinking much on it, but then I do not think that thinking under such a circumstance is expected even from a gentleman. Anyway. She kissed, I kissed her back, and while we were going on amiably she slapped me.

“I really do not know what else had happened, Darcy. Perhaps she wished for me to accompany her for only a very short kiss and I overstayed my welcome, or maybe she desired only to kiss me but not be kissed back. Or it is possible she had a momentary lapse of consciousness and once she realised what she was up to she decided to put the action to a sudden termination.

“Anyway, then I was abused for being a flirt and a tempter… She also paid me the honour of comparing me to you in her rebuke. Oh, this is no use! For whatever she did I have every reason to be ashamed of myself. I have used the woman abominably ill being driven by nothing else but my own pleasure.

“All in all, I assume you can punch me after all.”

Darcy became thoughtful for a while before he finally spoke, “And what happened after that?”

“After. Right. The usual thing rather. I offered my apology of course and she accepted. I gave my word it would never happen again. I asked her then if I could offer her some relief, a glass of wine or something, but she declined saying that she would rather return home at once and asked for her cousin to join her. Then I repeated my apology and went in search of Miss Bennet.

“I am sorry, Darcy, I know you wished to talk to her. I feel I have quite ruined your plans.”

Darcy paid Brougham a look which was a mixture of incredulity and confusion. “Was there anything between the two of you that would warrant such an occurrence in advance?”

“Oh, please, Darcy! There is no two of us. I can hardly keep the woman from exhibiting continued insolence towards me. If I have harmed her reputation then so be it, but do not berate me. I have been hard enough on myself. I do not really wish for the matter to be mentioned again.”

Darcy was bemused by what Brougham had revealed. Had the girl had a father, his friend might not escape the consequences easily. But an honourable man should not take advantage of that. However, it was difficult to place blame since it was the lady who kissed his friend, and Darcy did not have any other reason to think Brougham might have done anything to encourage her. In fact, had it been some other woman, he would not give the matter another thought, but she was Elizabeth’s cousin and he would not like to see his beloved suffer because of the actions of his friend. Seeing Brougham’s distress, he eventually responded.

“As much as I understand that you do not wish it to be mentioned again, I do not think you can avoid it. What do you plan to do? Do you have some feelings for her?”

Brougham pursed his lips and went over to lean against the fireplace.

“I do not know what to do. I might feel some healthy attraction for her as any man would.” He stared at Darcy and added, “Right, you would not. But any man under normal circumstances would feel some attraction to a young pretty woman. But that does not mean that I cannot satisfy this feeling elsewhere, so please do not concern yourself about it. She has accepted my apology and will be most content if this whole affair is forgotten just as I wish for it to be. I should not have even told you about it, so please do not mention it again.”

Darcy paid his friend a worried look. “I am afraid that you mistook my intentions. I was not asking out of concern for you, but rather for Miss Tournier. It can be forgotten only if she can. It does not matter whether I ever mention it again or not.

“Brougham, I do not wish to berate you. Also, I do not think that Miss Tournier is the kind of a woman who would hold you to your actions, but I truly hope that she did take offence. I hope that she will not be too willing in giving her forgiveness. For both your sakes.”

“What the devil are you talking about?”

Darcy took the glass from his friend’s hand and filled it with more brandy.

“Only that this whole matter will become much more complicated if Miss Tournier has feelings for you. After all she kissed you, did she not?”

Brougham was dumbfounded. “Nonsense! I told you she slapped me. And while we are about it, do not insult me please, for you are hardly the person from whom I would take romantic advice regarding the behaviour of infatuated women! As far as I am aware you are not better skilled in reading women’s affections than I am and you are in quite a little struggle of your own!”

Darcy smiled at the recollection of Elizabeth’s reaction in a parallel situation.

“I tend to disagree, Brougham, and my romantic skills have little to do with it. I have had the opportunity of witnessing a woman’s behaviour under similar circumstances. Believe me, if she were decidedly against you she would not welcome or desire your kiss.”

“Yes, well, I still would be a fool to depend on romantic guidance from a man who claims the woman he loves has feelings for him but is not able to make an offer.”

As Darcy’s eyes narrowed, looking not at all pleased, Brougham’s grim face lit with a grin, and he burst into a spasm of laughter.

“Darcy, I certainly hope that you do not think me a womaniser. Whatever Miss Tournier’s feelings are on this, I assure you I have not encouraged her. And although I do hope, for her sake, that she has no inclinations towards me, you could hardly expect me to feel responsible for a woman’s kiss. If that were the case you would be married a thousand times yourself for the line of women that stand at your doorway wishing to take advantage of it.”

He went to refill both Darcy’s and his own glasses.

“And you know, this is all for her sake in fact, for gaining a husband who is not fit for the task can prove only a misfortune. I cannot imagine her standing up to my fickle habits.”

“Why, Brougham, it seems I have to agree. There is no place for fickleness in marriage.”

Brougham stared at Darcy for a moment before he was suddenly startled by a new thought. “Of course I did not mean that I am fatally fickle. It is only a temporary thing I am sure. I mean if the right woman came along, someone like your sister…”

“Let us keep my sister out of this, shall we?”

The gentlemen finished their brandy and retired to their rooms. Each of them no doubt content to not have the kind of troubles the other had.

They walked along at a brisk pace towards Rosefarm, Holly in the lead, not seeming to wish Lizzy’s company at all, even though she had specifically requested her presence. When Lizzy had found her flustered cousin in the garden, she had inquired about what troubled her, but Holly only said that she desired to leave at once and that there was nothing the matter with her. Lizzy had not pressed further, even though she knew this could not be the truth based on what she could surmise from her own observations, but she also knew Holly would talk when she was ready to.

And it appeared that it would be now, since her cousin suddenly stopped in her tracks, turned, and with her arms gesturing wildly said, “Lizzy! Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

Attempting to lighten the mood and make it easy for her to finally unload the burden she carried, Lizzy smiled and softly replied, “I cannot answer you, Holly, if you will not be more specific. The question is too broad even for a philosopher such as myself.”

Her cousin’s answer was sharp and given with a vehemence that was surprising.

“Oh, I think you know very well what I mean! If some people did not insist on keeping everything to themselves, others might be better informed so as not to act rashly simply because they are too hurt and confused to even think clearly.”

Holly turned away from her and swiftly continued towards home once again.

Lizzy, a bit stunned by the unexpected revelation, was left standing there for a moment longer before she trotted forward in order to catch up.

“Holly, I find I am still confused. Am I the one who needs to be better informed, or is it you? Did you do something rash, or you think I have? Which is it?”

Her cousin did not answer but only glared at her.

“Holly? You shall need to help me out here, for other than what occurred between us at the Torences’, which I think must have quite upset you, I have no clear understanding of what you might be speaking about.”

“Perhaps you should think on it awhile then. I am sure you will eventually puzzle it out. Besides, I grow weary of helping someone who has no appreciation for my efforts.”

Lizzy stayed close to her, but when her cousin said no more and it appeared that she was not planning to, she eventually gave up the effort and purposefully fell a little distance behind, giving Holly the space she seemed to desire. It was clear that she was hurt by their earlier conversation, and in her distressed state she must have fought with Lord Brougham once again, for he had seemed out of sorts too when he had come to fetch her. Perhaps she would eventually discover what had happened or perhaps not. That, of course, would be up to Holly to decide.

Monsieur Vian left shortly after dinner, obviously disgruntled and bored. Holly and Mrs. Tournier both planted themselves on the couch together and spoke longingly of the past when Holly was young and her father was still alive. Both women sent the occasional piercing glance to Elizabeth, where she sat in a corner chair, a book in hand, frequently turning the pages but absorbing none of the meaning, wrapped instead in her own private hell created by her own worry and speculation.

When she turned in early that evening, she reflected on how Rosefarm now seemed like another place entirely from the one she had arrived at. As she lay there willing sleep to come and grant her temporary relief from everything that presently troubled her, she suddenly realized that of the four people who currently resided in this house, not one of them was pleased with her, including herself. And how, she wondered, did Mr. Darcy feel about her? Was he bored and disgruntled with her too?

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

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