Mr Darcy's Fight for Love, page 12
“Is there a penalty for the ones who participate in a duel?” the duke asked. Besides the colonel, he seemed the only one to remain calm.
“Yes,” Andrew of Montrose answered, “the participants risk going to prison, but in fact, everybody is accepting…it is considered a manly duty one has to fulfil to the end.”
“It is absurd!” Elizabeth’s cry made Mary leave the duke’s side and come near her. In was the first time in their life when she comforted her sister, “Thomas will find a solution,” she said with much confidence looking at her man.
‘But what solution could an unworldly boy find?’—everybody thought.
“You could refuse to fight,” Elizabeth spoke again in pure agony.
“He cannot!” the colonel’s words fell like a final decision; one nobody could change.
“But why, Darcy, why?” Elizabeth was looking at him with tearless imploring eyes.
“Because if I do not do so, that scoundrel will never let us live,” he said. Then he turned to the duke, “I am so sorry, Lord Sommershire for this turmoil I have brought into your life just days before your marriage.”
“Nonsense Darcy…I do not intend to live with Mary like we have these last weeks, separated from the world. You are my family now, we are a family with Mr and Mrs Bennet and the Gardiners, our parents and we the children…grown up children…all that is happening to anyone of you affects me!”
And he invited Mary to leave but not before he said to Georgiana, “Do not cry, Georgi, everything will be fine, in the end.”
A glance passed between the colonel, Darcy and Andrew—a silent decision to depart and discuss the situation far away from the others, who did not need to know more as any word could trigger despair.
“We will leave now, we have to decide what to do next.” The colonel’s voice was so calm that Darcy thanked the universe that his cousin was near him. He just could not imagine what he would have done without his support and experience. He was the only one who knew how one must prepare for a duel. And for the first time that evening the idea that he could meet his death became true. Not a faraway event but one at two days distance. He looked at Elizabeth but then he decided to chase away those thoughts.
“But why do not you stay here?” Lady Sommershire asked, but a mere glance from Andrew made her understand. They needed to keep a clear mind and the atmosphere at Sommershire Palace was far from the lucidity they required.
“Come, Georgiana,” the colonel said, “I will drive you home.”
Sophie looked at Georgiana and then at Elizabeth, both with the same idea in mind. They imagined the young girl alone in the house.
“Miss Georgiana,” Sophie asked, “will you stay here with us till this situation is solved?”
“Yes, thank you, Lady Sommershire, I do not want to go home!” Georgiana cried and sat down with a sigh.
It was the best solution and Darcy thanked Lady Sommershire for her incredible sensitivity and her capacity to help and understand. He just looked at her and said, “Thank you!”
“Go, Mr Darcy, just go!” Lady Sommershire said. “Miss Georgiana is safe with us!”
“You will stay near them, Bingley,” the colonel said before leaving, “we need Mr Bennet and you to take care of the ladies.”
It was a gentleman’s way to explain to Bingley why he would not be Darcy’s second. The colonel had already decided the second witness would be Lord Montrose.
Andrew stood up near Sophie, he held her hand in his and he gently caressed her on the face.
“What are you doing, Andrew?” she asked, but she already knew what he was doing.
“I am Darcy’s second witness,” Lord Montrose said, leaving Sophie in a state of despair.
She could not talk to him in front of Elizabeth. How could she tell Andrew not to go? Yet her heart was in agonizing pain as she imagined horrible accidents when a stray bullet might hit a witness. And in one moment her despair exploded as it was so unfair to face yet more suffering.
Elizabeth could not accept the situation. She thought in despair that it was also her fault. She had accepted the viscount’s advances or even believed that he could be a suitable man for her. She blamed her poor judgement and remembered how she had once even liked Wickham.
‘What is wrong with me?’ she thought with much anger, ‘I had the most wonderful man in the world right next to me and all I did was to stupidly quarrel with him. If I had said yes at Rosings none of this would have happened.’
Desperate and scared, she was also angry with herself. If Darcy faced death, it was also her fault.
“I need to talk to you!” she said to him looking at her mother.
“I am sorry Mrs Bennet, I am sorry Mr Bennet, these are not the circumstances in which I wanted to ask for Elizabeth’s hand.”
Mr Bennet tried to hide his feelings, to remain calm. Just some hours ago they were enjoying the play and their new happy life with the Gardiners and discreetly accepted that Lizzy was almost married.
“Go to the library with Mr Darcy, Lizzy,” he said.
But as they did not move, he added, “You have our blessing, my children.”
It was all they needed to know.
“I will wait for you in the carriage with Andrew,” the colonel said, “but take your time, there is no rush!”
∞∞∞
As soon as the library’s door shut behind them, Darcy took Elizabeth into his arms. There were love and despair in their gesture along with so many dreams that they had intended to make true. Yet destiny decided otherwise. Their happy march to the wedding had to pass through the viscount’s fury and resentments.
They kissed as if they were experiencing the last day of their lives.
“Do not go,” Elizabeth said, her lips close to his.
“I cannot refuse, my love, I have to go, for our peaceful future!”
Elizabeth tore herself from his arms, she was frantic and angered, “Let us leave tonight for Pemberley and never come back to London.”
“I do not run Elizabeth, you know me too well.”
She looked at him with love; indeed, she knew him—proud, honest and courageous.
“I know,” she said defeated. She directed her gaze to the ground and he took her into his arms to make her look at him. “I love you and I will come back to you and we will marry. You cannot get away from me.”
“I am not leaving, foolish man, you are!”
“No, never, it is something to be solved; otherwise, he will make our life a hell.”
And he kissed her again, her mouth, her face, her neck caressing her body in a staggering wish to remember her deep into the dramatic night he was going to have.
“I want to be with you,” Elizabeth mumbled and she blushed under his gaze.
“You are with me, we are engaged, remember?” he said with a sweet, loving voice.
Elizabeth was breathing as after an effort, “No, no…I want to be…”
“You want to be mine,” he said with his lips touching her ear—her body engulfed by a tremendous shiver she could not control.
“Yes, I want to come home with you now!”
He held her tight away from him to see her, “You make me the happiest man in the world, but you will be mine in three weeks after we call our banns. Tomorrow I will go to church.”
“Tomorrow you will have other things to do,” she said, trying to kiss him again.
“Our wedding is a good omen, you will see!”
“Ah,” she cried, “but if you…”
She could not say the words so outrageous were they.
“Nobody is going to die, my love; prepare for the wedding!”
But as he left, he knew he had lied. Only a year ago, one of his close friends had died in a duel.
Chapter 23
The three men headed to Darcy’s place. They intended to discuss the situation and come up with a plan, but they were aware that any plan could be shattered by the viscount. He was unpredictable, but also he had impulsive courage that made him never think about the consequences of his acts.
“Do you think he will send his ‘second’?” Lord Montrose asked.
The colonel answered while he looked at the fireplace.
“I think he will. I do not know how much was seen by others in the theatre but if only a rumour exists he will not accept losing his crown of dare-devil he has all around London.”
He was pondering all the possibilities and the action to be taken. Darcy was a good shooter, he hunted often, but pistols were different, less reliable and he did not know how good his cousin was at that kind of duel.
“We will use tomorrow,” he said, “to teach you some secrets about pistol shooting.”
Lord Montrose nodded, “Yes, a good decision. If the viscount sends the ‘second’ we go next to shoot, and I think it best we not dine with the ladies.”
“Yes,” Darcy agreed, “I will go at noon and see Elizabeth and then go home, to rest and prepare.”
They drank in silence; there was nothing more to be said.
Lord Montrose and the colonel went home for the few hours of sleep that remained. The plan was to be back early in the morning.
Alone in his bedroom, Darcy continued to sip his brandy. He tried to understand and accept how it was possible to be so close to happiness yet to find, again and again, new obstacles. And Viscount Devonshire was a considerable obstacle. He was wild and reckless, on the verge of a sort of madness that gave him a courage nobody had. A reconciliation was not possible—he had no doubt. The viscount was too proud to step back, and he wanted a glorious end to this story. Even a tragic one. The viscount was interested more by his reputation than his life. But in the end, the fanatical man was sure to win.
With no other solution at hand, Darcy was obliged to accept the duel. To say he was not afraid would have been a lie. He was afraid of dying, of losing his life just before getting married, of not having the privilege to make Elizabeth his wife and woman…He was worried and angry. One moment he decided to go back and take Elizabeth with him but the next he was again reasonable…Nobody was allowed to see his real state of mind, the turmoil that engulfed his mind and heart. His pleasant and calm life from the past ten years had carried him far away from the restlessness that had governed his youth. He thought of Elizabeth and having children, living at Pemberley or in London but among people of their kind. People with families and simple life. And that horrible man was prepared to destroy his future.
He fell asleep late in the night and his dreams—more like nightmares—did not let him rest.
The morning found him impatient and angry, waiting for the arrival of his friend and his cousin. He hoped a day in their company would change his thoughts and help him prepare for the duel. How he wanted to elude the truth, that the meeting was not a common one: it was a fight for his life.
Despite the reason, he still had a secret hope that the viscount’s ‘second’ would not come. Maybe the viscount realised the absurdity of the duel. But, at 11 o’clock, Darcy’s butler led two men into the library.
The colonel and Lord Montrose stood up to receive them. They thought the viscount’s ‘seconds’ would be people from their world, maybe acquaintances, prepared to discuss or even to mediate a reconciliation but the men who bowed were unknown. Just a glance was enough to see they were not part of their society. And if the colonel hoped to find some another way of solving the situation, the men in front of him shattered his hope.
The ‘seconds’ had presented the viscount’s letter challenging the duel. The letter did not raise the possibility of apologies. Neither did Darcy intend to apologise. So the colonel and the viscount’s ‘seconds’ decided the place and hour. It was Battersea Fields which were near London yet secluded enough to reduce their chances of being caught by the law—at dawn.
The weapon was decided to be the pistol, and only one shot was permitted.
The whole meeting took less than a quarter of an hour. Who could believe—Darcy thought—that a man’s destiny could be changed by a quarter of an hour of indifferent discussion.
“They are both professionals,” the colonel said after their departure. As the others did not understand, he explained, “there are in London a few people who are paid to attend and witness a duel.”
“What does this mean?” Darcy asked.
“I do not know anybody from our circle who would accept to be his ‘second’; he has a terrible reputation among husbands, and most of the people around are husbands.”
“But why is he still accepted in our society?” Darcy asked.
The colonel’s smile looked more like a grimace, he was dead worried and tried not to show it. “If he were expelled, it would be like an admission that the gentlemen feared him because of their wives.”
“It is a rather perverse answer from society…” Darcy replied.
“Like accepting the duel while it is outlawed and not punishing the duellist,” Lord Montrose said.
The colonel knew quite a lot about duels. “The courts are made up of peers, who are usually reluctant to charge another peer with murder as a result of a duel. There is a case where one nobleman was charged with murder. And he used as a defence that his behaviour was gentlemanly and honourable, meaning that he acted within the proper code of conduct. He was acquitted by his peers.”
“Yes, it is a discussion we have had in the past, but for the present, let’s go to Battersea Fields and exercise,” Darcy said, and for the first time since last evening he succeeded in being calm.
∞∞∞
The gentlemen spend all morning and half the afternoon at Battersea Fields. Darcy was indeed a good shooter but, as the colonel feared, he was accustomed to the hunting rifle. The colonel told Darcy about the posture, how to hold the pistol in his hand and how to aim and only when Darcy shot eight targets out of ten did they leave for Sommershire Palace.
There was no more that could be said, so all along the way the colonel repeated his advice as a way for them to accept and prepare for the next day.
“Do not be angry or frustrated, nothing of that kind,” Lord Montrose said, “think of your loved ones and wish with all your mind and heart to return to them.”
They found a sombre grieving atmosphere at Sommershire Palace that flustered Darcy. He came determined to comfort the women of his life—Elizabeth and Georgiana. But it was impossible. Georgiana ran to him and cried long minutes in his arms until Jane gently took her to a sofa, speaking to her as if to a child. Darcy tried to talk to her, but a sign from Lady Sommershire made him stop. It was better to leave without any farewells that would only accentuate the drama. He bowed to all his family and friends present in the room and followed Elizabeth into the library.
Elizabeth was in shock—petrified—despite her attempt to be brave. Silently Darcy took her into his arms; they did not kiss just continued a long embrace for the courage they both needed.
“Come, my love,” he said, in the end, “nothing bad is going to happen. Tomorrow night we will celebrate our engagement!”
Elizabeth nodded and a pale smile appeared on her face just for his sake.
However, something was tormenting him more than anything else, “Elizabeth, please look at me,” he said. She gave him a gaze full of pain, “You are a strong woman, you have all your beautiful family around you to love and support you in times of crisis…”
It was true, Elizabeth felt the same although she also suspected that no one could take away the sorrow and pain. She thought of the young duke’s tragedy and suddenly his strange behaviour made sense. Pain could destroy the world around them.
“It will be impossible to continue living if…” she said and he understood her half sentence.
“No, my love, not for you…but for Georgiana…”
The tears began pouring from Elizabeth’s eyes, and she cried, “You also think about…you cannot deny, do not lie to me!”
“I would not lie because you are a strong woman. It is impossible to go to such a place and not think about all the possibilities. Of course I have, but I think of you and Georgi and all our family and friends and I intend to be calm.”
“I am not strong,” she whispered.
“You are, my love, this is one of the many reasons why I love you so much. Please promise that you and Sophie will take care of Georgiana.”
She made a considerable effort not to cry when she looked at him and said, “I will, we will take care of her!”
Embracing tightly, they tried to forget their sorrow and remember only their love. He slowly bent to kiss her while his eyes declared his love, his desire to be her husband. Elizabeth’s answer was no longer shy or timid. Darcy was her man and she was ready to be with him at any moment.
“No, my love, not now. I want you to be mine under beautiful circumstances, I want to watch your body for a long time and prepare you to be mine with kisses and caresses. Not in a rush…we will have hours and hours…”
“Promise?” she said.
“Yes, I do.”
However, he did not promise to return. He said, “I do,” the way he imagined he would speak before a pastor.
If he were never to return, he would have left as her husband by his own will.
Chapter 24
The ride from Sommershire Palace to his home took only fifteen moments, but to Darcy, it seemed an eternity. He had asked the colonel to leave him alone. They decided to meet the next morning at Darcy’s house and take one carriage while Lord Montrose would ride directly to Battersea Fields. A doctor had to be present and Lord Montrose promised to solve that matter.
“It is such a paradox,” Darcy said after a while of driving in silence, “that nothing happened my entire youth when I played with my destiny a few times and it occurs now when I am a grown-up and my life is so normal and eventless.”
“Yes, it is the way life is; I am so sorry to see you on the verge of happiness and obliged to face such a mad situation.”
“I have a meeting at 7 o’clock with my parish vicar…”
