An Unexpected Ally

Part 20

"You have left your queen open," Mr Bennet remarked, as he surveyed the chess board that sat between him and Colonel Fitzwilliam. When he received no reply he continued, stroking his chin as he surveyed the game. "I only mention it because it is a simple error and surely a deliberate choice. A tactician such as yourself would never leave such a space unless he planned to. You intend to trap me, no doubt." His fingertips hovered over his pieces and at last, he made a trifling move that gained him little but cost nothing.

Richard nodded, moving another piece of his own into direct danger, whereupon Mr Bennet easily subsumed it, and checkmated Richard in one move, ending their game.

"Very good," Richard muttered, arranging the pieces back on their starting squares. "Another?"

Mr Bennet paused, looking with concern at his younger friend.

"Your heart is not in it, I wager."

Richard's head darted up.

"Mine?" He smiled, broadly and easily. "I suppose I was not fully engaged, but that does not mean I shall remain so." He cracked his knuckles. "Let us try again, Mr Bennet, and see how my heart fares."

He could hear the hollowness in his voice but hoped his companion did not. He wagered wrongly, though, for Mr Bennet was a good deal more insightful than Richard ever gave him credit for.

Mr Bennet did not move, merely folded his hands and waited patiently for Richard to share a little more. And at length, he did, leaning back in his chair and lifting one of his knights to admire its carving.

"I suppose I am a little distracted," he conceded. "I exchanged words with someone last evening and the matter is not resolved." He placed the chess piece back down carefully and shrugged one shoulder. "I miss the ease of life at the front. Disagreements are resolved in a swift exchange of blows and by the end of the evening one can be drinking again as old friends."

"Not a course of action I would advise here," Mr Bennet remarked, raising his brows.

"No." Richard laughed. "Certainly not."

"However much one might wish to..." Mr Bennet pursed his lips. "Exchange blows. After all, the other fellow might do a better job at it than you, and you do not wish to wear a black eye in the run-up to your wedding."

"Doubtful on both counts!" Richard replied, his spirits lifting at the thought of Darcy besting him by any degree in an altercation. His smile dropped when he recalled how dismissive his cousin had been last evening. He had trusted Darcy, valued him as a friend, almost as a brother. Closer than my brother, he thought, bitterly. And how easily he turned on me at the very thought that I was showing Wickham anything like friendship. His blood ran cold in his veins. How much worse would matters turn if Darcy ever discovered the truth, that he, Richard, had been the one to first introduce Wickham to Georgiana?

"Conversation often produces similar results," Mr Bennet continued, with a twinkle in his eye. "Without half so many bruises."

Richard harrumphed. He would not go cap in hand seeking his cousin out. He wished to make things right, but he certainly was not about to trample his pride into the ground to do so. He could be just as aloof as his cousin when he chose to be.

"Mr Darcy called here this morning," Mr Bennet remarked, after a long moment of silence. Richard's scowl darkened, all the answer his friend needed that the rift to which Richard referred was between the two cousins.

"He seemed quite unlike himself."

"That is not my fault. If he chooses -"

"He was smiling." Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows. "Quite cheerful. Although I dare say, were the conversation to turn to you, that would have changed. Why not mend fences with him now, before things become even more strained between the two of you?"

"If he is unfazed by our disagreement I do not see why I must mend anything," Richard grumbled, hearing his voice and cringing at how childish he sounded. Mr Bennet was to one day become his father-in-law, after all. He wished to impress him, not to display his intransigence. He straightened, taking a deep breath. "But I dare say you are right and I must make my peace." He surveyed the chess set. "And I shall do, but not before you've given me a chance to win back a little of my reputation. Come, let's have another game and I shall deploy every one of my wits this time."

"You needn't," Mr Bennet countered, making the first move and awaiting Richard's. "I stand half a chance of winning when you are distracted."

The game was an enjoyable one and ended in a stalemate, so for once both players were satisfied. Snatching up his hat, Richard bade his friend farewell and made his way out of Longbourn, stopping at the parlour to pass a short greeting with Mrs Bennet and Mary, who were sitting together in peaceable quiet.

"Jane is not here," Mary offered, looking up from her book with a disappointed smile. "She will be sorry to have missed you!"

"I'm sure." Richard grinned. "Well, I shall leave it to you to pass on my greetings, then, Miss Mary. To each of your sisters." He winked. "Tell them I said something devilishly entertaining and they ought to repent of not being here to hear it." He bowed. "Good afternoon, Mrs Bennet."

"Oh, good day, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Are we to expect you at dinner?"

"Not this evening," Richard said, with an apologetic smile. "I am on duty."

"Again?" She pouted. "We hardly see you!"

"You see a good deal too much of me, I am sure." Richard chuckled "I do not wish you all to be sick of me before the wedding even arrives!" He bade both ladies adieu and made his way out of the house, chuckling as Mrs Bennet called after him.

"We could never tire of you! We shall tell poor Jane that she missed you! Come again soon, won't you?"

His mood was a good deal improved by his short visit to Longbourn, and he thanked heaven for providing a firm friend in Mr Bennet as well as a soon-to-be wife in Jane. He marvelled to think how vastly different his life was from what it had been but a few short weeks ago.

And it will be different again a few short weeks from now, he reminded himself. Once Jane and I are married.

His smile faltered. He could not quite embrace the future ahead of him with the knowledge that he and Darcy were at odds. Despite his bravado with Mr Bennet, he knew how unlikely it was that Darcy would ever seek him out for an apology.

Better I make the first move, he thought, ramming his hat onto his head and altering his course directly across the fields towards Netherfield. He had time to spare, now, to make the call, and the three-mile walk would be quite sufficient for him to order his thoughts. I shall be honest, he told himself. I shall tell Darcy all - everything that has occurred between Wickham and I. He might not forgive me, but at least then he will know. His blood ran cold at the thought that Darcy - his friend as well as his cousin - might be irretrievably removed from him, but he could not linger in indecision. Better the truth be laid out there, and then they could move on, friends or not. It is not as if I am ill-practised at being estranged from my family, he thought, with a grim recollection of his last visit to his brother. I have survived thus far: I will survive this.

But the thought was not a happy one, and his spirits sank with every stride he took towards Netherfield.