An Unequalled Affection

Part 7

A/N - I am so so sorry it's taken me so long to get back to updating this. What with holiday disruption and more tech issues than I like to remember I got a bit waylaid. But I'm back now and posting with (hopefully!) more regularity. Thank you for your patience! Happy reading xx

Elizabeth was lost for words. Her mouth opened and closed again in silence, her wide eyes darting from Jane to the gentlemen and back again. Shocked into silence was not a state Darcy could ever recall having seen her before, but this was no time for gloating and to spare her what little discomfort he could, he launched himself into the breach, offering an answer to the question her sister had asked.

"A disagreement, Miss Bennet. Nothing you need concern yourself with."

"A disagreement?"

Jane's eyes went straight to Richard, and then to Bingley, who was not quick enough to hide the rifle he still clutched from view.

"Richard?" She turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, evidently expecting sanity and truth from him. He straightened, clearing his throat and speaking with difficulty.

"Bingley and I planned to resolve a matter -"

"With weapons?" Jane frowned, her mind at work. "In a clearing? At dawn...?" Her head snapped round to focus on Elizabeth again, making her sister, and not her suitors, the focus on her anger. "A duel? Oh, Lizzy! How could you?"

"How could I?" Elizabeth found her voice, at last, quavering with surprise. Her question did not stop Jane, though, for anger and distress fuelled her and she was freely giving vent to her feelings.

"I suppose this was your solution to a problem that was not there. How often have I tried to tell you that life is not like a novel! A duel, Lizzy? Would you risk our friends like that just to - to create some romance or some drama? It is something I might have expected from Lydia but from you?"

Lizzy reeled back, doubly insulted by Jane's false accusations and the comparison to the one sister she perennially chose to distance herself from. Darcy, conscious of how quickly one might say what one might not mean and repent, fruitlessly, at leisure, tried once more to intervene.

"Miss Bennet -"

"Elizabeth is not to blame for this, Jane." It was Richard who spoke, whilst Bingley remained silent, watching the sisters' spat from a distance.

Jane fell silent for a moment, but before anybody else could speak, she let out a disappointed oh! And fled from the clearing, leaving the unhappy tableau just as she had discovered it.

"I must go after her," Elizabeth began, turning to follow. Only Mary's hand on her arm restrained her, offering a whispered suggestion that she, not Elizabeth, ought to try to calm Jane's fractured nerves. This struck Darcy as wise, for Mary had had no mention in Jane's tirade and her quiet, logical presence, was perhaps the only one there who might yet have success in helping Jane to see this folly for what it was. Darcy sighed, raking a hand through his dark hair and turned towards his cousin and friend, both staring sheepishly after Jane's wake.

"Give me those!" he muttered gruffly, reaching for the pistols that had yet to be fired. He upended them, declaring them safe, and tossed them carelessly into the box they had been brought out of. He turned to the doctor, who had been standing mutely by, watching and waiting to be called upon. "You might see yourself back to town. As you can see we do not need your services now."

"But -"

"I shall call on you later today and ensure you are fully paid for your time." Darcy's eyes travelled along the line a moment, surprised, and yet not surprised, to see Wickham still standing there, his eyes gleaming with interest at the drama that had unfolded before them. "Take Richard back to the barracks, would you? He can do no good here."

Wickham fixed Darcy with a rebellious look, his lips curving upward in a reproach he was unable to give before Richard silenced him.

"What right have you to dismiss me from any place, Darcy? I shall go when I am ready." He crossed the clearing in three large steps, not to follow Jane, as Darcy had assumed, but to draw level with Elizabeth. He bent his head towards her, his whisper not carrying, and Darcy felt a flicker of annoyance that Richard should choose her as his confidant, and also that the pair were so comfortable together. What he wouldn't give to have Elizabeth by his side as he tried to undo this mess.

Despite his better nature his eyes remained fixed on the couple and he watched the shadows dancing across Richard's features as he spoke. How he wished he could know what was being said! He regretted the distance between the two cousins. How disastrously their friendship had been ruined by his siding with Bingley over this matter! And how he wished he could now undo the damage his spite had caused.

Spite. His eyes flickered towards Wickham, as if the word called him objectively to mind. He had prided himself on never being like his old foe, yet summoning Bingley home with the plain desire to spoil Richard's happiness, knowing, however much he might care to deny it, that things would end like this - or worse - was the very action George Wickham thrived on. I never meant... Darcy scowled, ignoring his selfish attempts to justify himself. Intentions mattered little when one's actions had such repercussions.

"Come, George." Richard had straightened, stepping away from Elizabeth and summoning his second with a nod. "We have spent too long here already. We must return to the barracks before we are missed."

Wickham opened his mouth as if to offer his own opinion but a silencing glare from Richard, matched by another from Darcy, were enough to bid him hold his tongue and he did so, striding silently after Richard who had already swiftly begun to retrace his steps back towards Meryton.

"Well!" Bingley remarked, safe in the knowledge that his opponent was out of earshot. "That was not entirely how I envisioned this morning's conclusion."

"We ought to return to Netherfield," Darcy announced, slamming the boxed guns against Bingley's chest with more force than was necessary. "You can take these." He turned back to Elizbeth, standing bereft of friends and occupation. "Lizzy?" He spoke so gently, and favoured her nickname, that he was not surprised when she looked at him in confusion. "We are for Netherfield. Will you join us? Or would you prefer -"

He glanced over his shoulder at Bingley, not wanting his suggestion to escort Elizabeth home to become an invitation to Charles to join them, and so complicated things with Jane still further.

"Come with us," he said, his voice smooth but insistent. "Georgiana and I shall insist on your returning home safely in an hour." He took a breath. "Once things settle down a little."

He was braced for a refusal, wondering if this morning's affairs had forever ruined the closeness that had been growing between them, whether he had snuffed out forever the pinpricks of light and hope he had felt for his own future happiness. To his surprise, she did not refuse but accepted, with a weak little nod and a faint smile.

"I will, Mr Darcy," She said. "Thank you. I - I think it would be wise of me to give my sisters a little time."

Her first few stepstowards him were unsteady and it was for support - no other reason - that hehastened to offer her his arm and together they walked towards Netherfield,leaving Charles Bingley to trail after them, grumbling under his breath abouthow he might have been victorious if only matters had been left to play out asintended.