An Unequalled Affection

Part 19

Darcy had passed a quiet couple of days at Netherfield before he received a note from his cousin inviting him out on a ride. He had laughed when he received the letter at the breakfast table, hurriedly disguising the reaction as an unconvincing cough to keep from betraying himself altogether. Richard had written in code, the very same secret language he and his cousin had devised as children and believed to be entirely unfathomable to the various adults in their circle. It was as easy to crack now as it was then and Richard had written half a page in gobbledegook, suggesting Darcy sneak out of enemy camp to join him for an hour or two of fresh air on horseback, ending with a polite request to burn this missive for fear of it falling into the wrong hands.

"Something funny?"

Caroline Bingley had been little improved by the family's return to Hertfordshire and grew sourer with every day they remained. It seemed to Darcy she grew sourer still with the knowledge she fancied she had deduced about the state of things between himself and Elizabeth Bennet. He had not been pressed to give a full account - largely because, he suspected, Caroline did not want her suspicions confirmed - but it seemed nonetheless to have become common knowledge in Netherfield, as it was at Longbourn, that an engagement would follow in due time.

"Yes, do tell, William. I am sure we could all do with a little cheery news to brighten our breakfast. Who is your letter from?" Georgiana peered over the table at him, attempting to decipher the hand. "How peculiar! From this angle, it does not even look as if your correspondent wrote in English!"

"It is nothing," Darcy said, promptly folding the letter and sliding it beneath his plate to dispose of later. "Nothing of consequence, in any case." He turned to Bingley, who continued to morosely pick at his breakfast plate, oblivious to all that surrounded him. "Bingley, I require a horse this afternoon. You do not object to my taking one from your stables, do you?"

"Oh, do you plan to ride?" Georgiana brightened. "That is a fine idea for an occupation. I am sure Charles would eagerly accompany you and perhaps even Caroline and I might be persuaded, if you have side-saddles."

"I don't believe we do," Bingley remarked with a sniff. He turned towards the window. "And it looks to me like rain."

"I have never been fond of horses, in any case," Caroline contributed, grateful that, for once, she would not be called upon to dismiss an idea she found disagreeable.

"Oh." Georgiana sighed, momentarily dejected. The mood did not last long, though, for it soon shifted, like sunshine emerging from behind a passing cloud. "Then perhaps some music. I have been working hard on the piece Mary Bennet sent for me, would you care to hear it?"

Georgiana addressed her comment to the room at large, but it was plain to Darcy that she truly intended it for but one recipient, who was at that moment rather more engaged in slicing a piece of cold meat into tiny slivers he did not then eat.

Darcy frowned, thinking that if the Netherfield table were not so large nor so grand, he would be able to stretch out his foot and kick his friend subtly into paying attention. While he moped and mithered and mourned over the lost Jane Bennet - who had been lost to him long before his return to Hertfordshire, Darcy could see now - then he might notice another young lady who had eyes only for him.

When Darcy first began to suspect some growing affection in Georgiana's heart for his old friend, he had rebelled against the notion, thinking a good deal too highly of his sister to think Bingley a suitable match. He had swiftly shaken himself out of his old prejudice, though, recalling that there was far more to a match than mere wealth. Georgiana's dowry and Charles own not-insignificant income would be enough to keep them very comfortably, and when he recalled an alternative - long-dead - passion of Georgiana's had placed her in the hand of George Wickham, he had to think that Bingley was a far superior option. He would not break Georgiana's heart if only he could take his own in hand long enough to notice she existed.

"I shall tell Miss Mary you make good progress on the piece," Darcy remarked, taking the last mouthful of his tea which had long since lost most of its warmth. He grimaced but swallowed the whole.

"Oh, are you riding to Longbourn?" Georgiana brightened. "Perhaps we might take a carriage -" She shot a glance at Bingley, recalling, too late, that whilst Longbourn for her was the home of her friend, for Charles there resided nothing but heartbreak.

"Perhaps," Darcy said, airily. In truth, he had no notion of Richard's plans, save for the place they should meet. A neutral grove, the note had promised, giving directions that would mean to even find his cousin would be to revisit the old skills of orienteering that had occupied countless summers, along with codebreaking. Darcy could not help but smile. Recalling their happy childhood summers, the friendship that had weathered storms all their lives, made it clear to him that whatever estrangement had temporarily parted the cousins was long over now. It would be good to part well if Richard was indeed bound to quit Hertfordshire, and soon.

Still, Mr Bennet's parting pleas had not left Darcy's mind. He had turned them over and over, every chance he got - that he did not spend thinking of Elizabeth, of course - and still he came up with no scheme that could guarantee him success. He was no strategist. If only Richard were not the problem, I might be able to ask him for advice! The irony had not been lost to him. There was nobody else whose help he might seek. Caroline had never been fond of Colonel Fitzwilliam, by reputation or manner, and even less so with the news that he had tried to murder her beloved brother. Even Charles had tired quickly of this particular type of hysterics and informed her that he had been just as eager to murder the colonel, if she must use such ridiculous language. Georgiana had been Darcy's next thought, but she seemed so engrossed with quietly battling her inner heartache that he was reluctant to heap still more on her thin shoulders.

No, it is a matter with a solution, if only I have a will to find it. He slid his letter out from beneath his breakfast plate and stood, taking his leave of the table and hurrying to his room to ready himself for his outing. Perhaps he might steer them towards Longbourn, encourage Richard to pay a call on Mr Bennet, if not on Jane directly. He might create some cause to go there.

He was dressing as he spoke, hunting out the things he needed when his gaze fell upon his gloves. If I left one, perhaps...

But, no. Richard was no fool and Darcy ill-used to lying. He could not do it easily or well and would betray himself in an instance. Scowling, he pulled on both gloves and snatched up his hat, striding towards the stables still lost in thought.