Part 14

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Richard made slow progress with his work, even after he had freed himself from Wickham's annoying observation. His mind was perpetually brought back to the note he had received from Colonel Forster. He even found his eyes drifting towards the letter, so much so that he snatched it up and filed it out of sight, yet still its contents plagued him, urging him to reach a decision.

There is no need for me to stay here. He had Jane's letter, he had this from his superior. There was not only no need for him to stay, there was no justification for him doing so. Even his cousin was no pull, for they were at odds and the sooner Richard put physical, as well as emotional, distance between them the easier his mind would be.

Then it is decided for me. He ought to feel some sense of relief to have made the decision and know that wherever his future path led it was away from Meryton.

A knock came at his door and he brusquely invited the caller in, expecting Wickham to have returned with some further point or problem.

"What, Wickham? Have I not done enough on your behalf today?"

"Ahem."

A demonstrably female throat-clearing made him jerk his head upright and he was surprised to see not George Wickham nor even any other of his subordinates within the regiment, but Elizabeth Bennet standing silhouetted in his doorway. She dragged Darcy behind her, for it certainly did not seem to be his cousin's desire to enter the room, and for a moment Richard's eyes flashed with anger. Had it been Darcy alone he would have reacted far less courteously, but Richard had no bone to pick with Elizabeth. He bowed, correcting his earlier mistake with politeness.

"Miss Elizabeth. Forgive me, I expected someone else."

"George Wickham?" Darcy was habitually unable to form his enemy's name without his vitriol but at present Richard himself was no better inclined to think well of Wickham, so he let the matter slide with a brief nod.

"Of all my recruits he is the one that treats this room with a liberty he is not entitled to." He turned his gaze immediately back to Elizabeth. "What can I do for you?" A strange fear gripped his heart. "There is nothing the matter with Jane, I hope?"

Elizabeth shook her head, then smiled apologetically.

"I do not believe so. In truth..." She sighed, letting go of her hold on Darcy so that she might step further into the small room. "In truth, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I have not yet seen my sister since our meeting in the clearing this morning. I am quite sure she is as angry with me as with anyone, so I assure you I am not here on her behalf." She must have noticed the way Richard's features fell - he could not stop it - because her voice softened. "I am sorry not to bear better news on that front."

With effort, Richard arranged his features into a smile.

"It is an unexpected pleasure to have a social call, in any case. Won't you sit down?" He looked past Elizabeth long enough to glare at his cousin, who said nothing but shuffled a little further into the room, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him.

"We are sorry to disturb you, Colonel Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth ventured, after a long, awkward moment of silence. "It was at Mr Darcy's insistence that we came at all. He was in the process of escorting me home to Longbourn."

"From where?" Richard had nought but the vaguest curiosity that had brought this particular pairing to his door. He noticed a glance pass between them and the truth of the matter registered with him at last. He wondered how he had not noticed it before. A grim, bitter smile curved his lips upwards. "Ah. It seems congratulations are in order."

"Congratulations?" Lizzy squeaked, before dissolving in an awkward laugh. "Ah, no. You misunderstand us. Mr Darcy -"

"Is quite capable of speaking on his own," Darcy said these words in a rush. He took a step forward, facing Richard directly, and folded his arms across his front. "Richard, I have come to apologise, and as I know neither one of us favours cowardice or equivocation I shall not waste our time with either. I was entirely wrong to intervene in your life and I repent of ever writing to Bingley." His frown darkened. "You must understand I never truly imagined he would come back here - at least, I did not think it would end in a duel, or in - "

"In Jane ending our engagement?" Richard voiced the words bitterly, but no more than he felt them. The declaration seemed to have come as a surprise to both Darcy and Elizabeth, who looked at one another in shock. Richard's heart sank further. Their ignorance was all the confirmation he needed and manfully though he tried to resist it, he felt his shoulders sink. "Then it is true." His words were barely a whisper. "She has chosen him."

"No," Darcy spoke firmly, his voice strangely warm and reassuring. "She wrote to Bingley assuring him that whatever connection there once existed between them was long over and would not be renewed."

This was surprising and Richard could not keep his head from lifting, his eyes from seeking confirmation first from his cousin and then from Jane's sister.

"She wrote to me - she said -" He glanced towards the fire, cursing his impulsivity and wishing he had kept the letter if only to revisit it now. Despite his heartache, he felt a strange, biter smile creep onto his face. "Then she has spurned us both." He laughed a short, sharp bark of laughter. "'Tis no less than we deserved, I expect. And I may take a little comfort that I have not been thrown over for that fool Bingley." He cut his glance to Darcy, having chosen his words carefully to wound his cousin by wounding his rival, Darcy's absent friend.

"She seeks time, perhaps." Darcy drew a shaky breath. "Time, so she may act with rationality and care, and not impulse and anger." He cleared his throat. "It is wisdom I would do well to emulate. If you will allow me to try again?"

Richard did not look at him immediately and it took him a moment to realise that Darcy held his hand out, a plea for forgiveness, to make right all that had gone wrong between them in so short a time, and to such disheartening ends.

A petty voice in the back of Richard's mind urged him to refuse the offer, to punish Darcy as he deserved. But then he recalled how his skin crawled to be reliant on George Wickham - and only George Wickham - for companionship, for assistance, for support. Darcy was not without fault. But then neither am I.

Taking a breath, he considered the matter for half a moment more, before he took Darcy's hand in his own, shaking it and mending forever the fences that pride and anger had temporarily destroyed.

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