An Unexpected Ally

Part 30

Richard's apprehension grew with every step he took. His path was quite familiar now. Enough that he could find his way in his sleep, he supposed. It was a good thing, for his thoughts were entirely occupied as he walked, so that he came within sight of Longbourn long before he was aware of it.

Well, he thought, slowing his pace as he approached the house. Here I am. He paused to adjust his uniform, which, while always smartly to code, he had taken particular care with that morning. It suited him well, he knew, and he straightened to the fulness of his height, wishing, with a grimace, that he were a little more handsome. It does not matter, he told himself, remembering that even Charles Bingley, for all his charm and wealth, was not remarkably well-looking. He winced as he looked at the small bouquet of wildflowers he had procured on his way out of Meryton. He had clutched them too tightly as he walked, venting a little of his anxiety on the poor posy, which now looked a little wilted and unwell. He checked his pocket-watch, reassuring himself that, whilst early, it was not too early to call at a house which had become almost a second home to him. There was no need to feel such anxiety and yet his heart fluttered in his chest as he knocked at the front door and it was not without effort that he managed to rearrange his features into a smile that appeared more cheerful than he felt.

"Good morning!" He greeted the servants warmly and was welcomed easily into the parlour, which comfortably contained above half of the family.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam!" Mrs Bennet was the first to greet him, ushering him in to join them. "We did not expect you!" Her broad smile faltered a little as she turned to Jane, who was seated beside her. "Did we?"

"We didn't," Jane said, her eyes dancing to Richard for only a moment before sliding away again. "Although it is a lovely surprise to see you."

A surprise? Richard blinked, his smile slipping. Was it truly a surprise, when he could be found here at Longbourn almost as often as he could be found anywhere else. Jane still did not look at him, and Richard wondered, anxiously, whether the surprise of his presence that morning was a particularly welcome one.

"These are for you." Lacking any other greeting and hoping that the presentation of a gift would be enough to secure Jane's fleeting attention at last, he thrust the bouquet forward.

"Oh, how lovely!" Mrs Bennet nudged Jane, none too subtly, and she looked up at last, her lips stretching in a pained smile as she reached for the posy that looked rather small and weedy, now that Richard looked at them again.

"You are very kind," she said. "I will find a vase for them." She looked almost without meaning to at the sideboard and Richard followed her gaze, a little taken aback by an ostentatiously rich bouquet that dwarfed both the vase that struggled to contain it and his own meagre offering.

"Ah -" he began, fumbling for some words to dismiss his gift, to take back the posy and dispose of it, substituting some different, better gift. Jane had brushed past him before he could summon a word, though, and he was left in the strange silence that followed in her wake. Clearing his throat, he turned to Mrs Bennet, nodding briefly at Elizabeth, who was sitting next to her. "What beautiful flowers. You have excellent taste, Mrs Bennet."

"Oh, they are not my flowers!" Mrs Bennet giggled. "They are -"

"Mine!" Lizzy blurted, desperately shooting her mother a look that Richard did not miss, nor misunderstand. "But I know Jane has always much preferred wildflowers to those that are grown in a hot-house. Your gift was very kind, Colonel Fitzwilliam."

There was a forced friendliness to Elizabeth's voice and Richard felt his heart sink bitterly into his stomach.

"I did not like to come empty-handed," he ventured. "Not when -"

Before he could say more, the door opened, but it was not merely Jane returning with a vase, as he had suspected. No, it was not Jane at all, but Lydia, red-faced and breathing heavily as if she had come running in from outside, and she beamed, victoriously escorting visitors of her own.

"Look who Kitty and I found outside!" she declared, leading a procession of Mr Darcy, Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley and Georgiana.

Everyone stared at each other in silent horror, and it was at that moment that Jane chose to return, the colour draining from her face as she looked from Richard to Charles Bingley and back again.

"I - " Her grip on the vase weakened and by some miracle Lizzy leapt forward at the last minute to take it from her, stowing it safely on the side, in the shadow of the larger bouquet and gently guiding her sister to a chair with a grace and familiarity Richard wished he had thought to offer.

"Well!" Mrs Bennet stuttered, gesturing around her. "What a great number of guests! And all at once! How...how charming. Do, do sit down, won't you?"

At first, nobody moved, but eventually, Darcy shuffled to one side, seeking the comfort of a quiet, shadowy corner in which to hide, Richard supposed. His movement allowed Georgiana the freedom to bolt forward, and she did, right towards her cousin, with a radiant smile.

"Richard! I was hoping we might see you, although I never dreamed it would be here!"

"Aye? And why should I not call here?" Richard could hear the bitter note in his voice and fought to clear it, but it was not easily done. "Is it so very unexpected that a gentleman should call on his fiancée?"

Bingley cleared his throat at Richard's use of the word gentleman, a pointed protest that served only to inflame Richard's anger all the more. He shook off Georgiana's hand and turned to face her companions, his gaze narrowing as he met Charles Bingley.

"I am surprised to find you calling here, and so early. Surely you are used to keeping London hours?"

"One needn't stand on ceremony when calling on one's friends, Colonel." Bingley gave him a toothy smile and Richard fought an urge to lash out at him. "Ah, I see my flowers arrived. I trust you received my note, as well?" He addressed his question to Jane, speaking brazenly as if they were the only two people in the room.

Richard's temper soared, but he somehow kept himself from saying a word. He could not keep himself from looking, though, and saw the way Jane flushed scarlet before slowly looking up and meeting Bingley's gaze. From his eyes, she did not immediately look away and Richard saw, in that one, tiny gesture, all his future hopes dissolve.

"It is good to see you, Richard," Georgiana said again, desperately speaking to fill the silence in hopes she might cut the tension that surely every person present could feel. "I wonder if you have no other obligations today, whether we might -"

"Actually, I have a great many obligations today," Richard muttered, shaking himself free of her grasp a second time and pushing past the crowd towards the door. "I oughtn't to have come at all, only -"

"You mustn't let us keep you from your tasks, Colonel Fitzwilliam," Bingley said, that same infuriating smile still on his face. His gaze travelled hypnotically back to Jane's. "It is time we were able to get a little reacquainted with old friends."

Richard froze in the doorway, staring with disbelief at Charles Bingley. The man was shameless and nobody - not Darcy, not Georgiana, not even Jane - seemed to notice or care the liberties he took speaking with such familiarity to a young woman who was another man's betrothed. It was infuriating and - worse - insulting. And it shall not be borne.

"Perhaps you will permit me a word or two before leaving," Ricard choked out, from between clenched teeth. "Outside?"

Bingley paused, his eyes sweeping the room. Something in him, some degree of bravado, was tempted to goad Richard into speaking here and now, in a roomful of witnesses, but at last he relented with a slight nod.

"Very well."

Richard bowed stiffly and retreated, his ears tuned to Bingley's footsteps behind him. It was time he did what he ought to have done long ago. If Charles Bingley was determined to encroach on Richard's territory and force some imagined claim to Jane Bennet's heart, then he deserved to be held to account. And may the best man win.