An Unequalled Affection

Part 27

If Richard had come to Kent seeking vibrant company he would have been disappointed, for he ended up spending the majority of his time alone. Not that I mind that, he thought, tilting his face up towards the sun and enjoying the feel of it as he walked. His military hours, long instilled over many years deployed or at work in the barracks, made him rise early when even Lady Catherine and Anne were still sleeping, and he had made a habit of taking a swift, solitary breakfast and disappearing out of doors. He would return home in the late afternoon to spend time with them. Late afternoon drifted into evening and then the cycle would begin again. It was a pleasant interlude, but one Richard already found himself tiring of.

I must make a decision and move on, he thought, ruefully pausing at the fork in the road that would take him back towards Rosings. He purposefully chose the other fork, adding time to his walk and delaying his return by a quarter-hour. His absence would not go without mention, but he could buy himself time without his aunt's arch criticism here and he was determined to enjoy his freedom a little longer.

You are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish, Lady Catherine had said, but what she had meant was as long as I have use for you. He had been shown off, like some prize pony, at church and on the few social calls his aunt could be persuaded to make. Once the thrill of a new arrival had permeated the small, closed community, however, his worth to his aunt had plummeted and she had taken to querying, always out of interest and concern for him of course, what his plans would be.

Would that I could share with her even one plan I have made since my arrival! Richard thought, removing his hat from his head and raking a hand through his hair. He had just about grown used to wearing civilian clothes, although the two suits he had brought with him were a little old and out of style for any but country living. Fortunate, then, that his aunt was never taken with the notion of going to town. He supposed that was his next best option. He might go to London. He had friends enough there that he could see without making a nuisance of himself. Perhaps Darcy might even be persuaded to allow Richard to stay in his townhouse, for London was always far more enjoyable with a place of one's own to call home.

"Richard?"

Richard started, surprised to hear anyone calling him, let alone anyone that might refer to him by his Christian name. Jamming his hat back on his head he turned, squinting into the bright late-morning sunshine at a figure that strode towards him.

"Aunt Catherine said you might be found here. I have been tailing you for half a mile!"

"Darcy?" Richard jogged a step or two back along the path he had taken, closing the gap between the two cousins. "What in heaven's name are you doing here?"

"I have come to call on my aunt," Darcy explained, a little breathless from the exertion that betrayed he had not been hyperbolic of his claim to following Richard. "As my cousin instructed I ought."

Richard smiled, the prospect of his future stay at Kent vastly improved by this piece of news.

"And Georgiana?"

"Is at the house," Darcy confirmed. "I suggest we continue to walk a little before we return, for I feel honour-bound to warn you she is justifiably furious with you for leaving Hertfordshire without even a goodbye." His eyes sparkled with merriment. "Let us allow Anne and Lady Catherine to work their magic in soothing her before we return."

"A wise idea." Richard gestured along the path and the two men fell into quiet step.

"How have you been?" Darcy asked, after a few minutes passed in companionable silence. "You look well."

"I feel it." Richard was surprised by the truth of his words. His future might still be a mystery to him, his past still plaguing him with regrets, but in the present moment, he felt well in body and spirit and said as much. "Even Aunt Catherine's none-too-subtle suggestions about my role as the most inferior of her nephews has failed to undermine me."

"Good. You know that is nonsense."

"I have become a little inured to it, after a lifetime." Richard grinned merrily at Darcy to show that he did not hold him, or anyone else, personally responsible for Lady Catherine de Bourgh's whims and prejudices. "In any case, she has been kind enough to offer me refuge and who am I to deny her the greatest pleasure of her life: passing judgment on those around her." He grew serious. "If she criticizes my shiftless life, she does not heap judgments on the new Mrs Collins, so there is a small victory. I am far better able to bear her than that lady."

"Ah, you have met Mrs Collins, or Miss Lucas, as she was when I knew her."

Richard nodded, drawn to the warmth with which Darcy referred to the curate's wife. It did not quite match the scorn with which Mrs Collins had mentioned him and it was on the tip of Richard's tongue to query the matter, certain that there must be some explanation he was not quite privy to. He recalled, with a start, that even the Bennet family had not been quite so admiring of Darcy as he had supposed, upon first hearing of the link between him and Richard.

"What day is it today?" Richard asked, stooping to pluck a daisy from the grass and pulling absent-mindedly at its petals.

"Wednesday." Darcy frowned. "Why?"

"You shall have chance to renew your acquaintance with Mrs Collins - for you must refer to her by her married name, now that she has one and never mind your recollections - this evening. Mr Collins and his wife always dine at Rosings on a Wednesday." And many other days in between, Richard thought but did not say. He would not mind it - did not mind it - but would certainly approve of it more if Mr Collins were not quite the overblown idiot he appeared to be upon Richard's first meeting him. Subsequent meetings had not undone his first judgment and Richard was resigned to the fact that his visit to Kent would not win him friends amongst the closed, countrified set.

I ought to rejoice in that, he thought, recalling just what a disaster the friendships he had made in Hertfordshire had wrought upon his otherwise solitary and stoical life.

"They will come tonight? You are sure?"

There was a degree of urgency in Darcy's voice and an expression rested on his face that might have been concern. Richard grinned, thinking that if he, who was well-practised at getting along with men of all stripes, found William Collins tiresome then Darcy's opinion of him must be more scathing still.

"Aye, quite sure. I have never known a curate so enamoured with his patroness, nor so familiar with calling at her house to dine or take tea or otherwise pay homage." His smile grew. "All of which Aunt Catherine adores, of course. You know she is fond of being admired, and Mr Collins is quite adept at flattery -"

"I must tell you something, in that case." Darcy stopped walking, tugging Richard to a stop opposite him, and something about the seriousness of his cousin's voice and manner made Richard's concern grow.

"What is it? Come on, Darcy. You know you can tell me anything We are surely past our game playing and secret-keeping."

"Jane Bennet has come to Kent. She and Elizabeth both. They travelled with Georgiana and me to stay with a friend of theirs, lately married to their father's cousin...Mr Collins." He swallowed, his features lifting in the grimmest of smiles. "And I am quite sure they, too, will be joining us for dinner this evening."