Twixt Two Equal Armies (13 page)

“But Elizabeth, that makes no sense at all; why would he come here to seek you out?” Holly cried in puzzlement, as much to convince herself as Elizabeth. “After such an arrogant and insulting proposal this spring, then such strange behaviour when you saw him in the summer. All politeness and condescension until he heard the news about Lydia . . . ”

Elizabeth was pacing, only half-listening and muttering to herself. “Oh, why is he — how do I speak to him? What should I say? How should I act? How do I feel? How
should
I feel?”

Holly’s brows almost met in the middle as she tried to sort out all that Elizabeth had told her earlier, combined with what she could see of her reactions upon seeing the man again, and then fit it in with her own sentiments and fears about the astonishing events of the morning.

“He purposefully sets out to destroy Jane’s hopes and happiness, but then has an apparent change of heart concerning her and Mr Bingley, only to abruptly leave Hertfordshire after having scarcely spoken ten words to you the entire time he was there. And then, Lady Catherine comes to call for the sole purpose of insulting and threatening you. Then he unexpectedly appears
here
, apparently only to continue his taciturn ways and stare at you shamelessly
?
Yet you cannot reconcile your feelings toward him?”

Elizabeth was so agitated and confused that she could not answer, so Holly continued: “You must forgive me for asking, but have you lost your wits? What in the world can your dilemma be about this man? I can tell you precisely what you should feel about him!”

“Holly, no! I know it seems strange, especially when you lay things out in black and white that way, but I suspect there is so much more to him than all this. I truly believe he is a good man. He certainly is a good, caring brother. And there are times, when he looks at me with such an expression of tenderness, like — ”

“Tenderness!” Holly interrupted snorting in disgust. “Spend enough time fending off the advances of fathers and brothers of schoolgirls and you’ll recognise that look for what it really is! I am sorry to be so blunt, Elizabeth, but he has made clear, in no uncertain terms, his opinion of you. He has no respect or esteem for you — he desires you; that is the extent of it. A man with a strong desire will couch it in any terms necessary to gain his ends, including looks of tenderness and even proposals of marriage or holidays in Scotland if he grows desperate.”

Elizabeth looked at her cousin shrewdly for a moment while drumming her palm with a dead twig.

“Don’t think me a simpleton, Holly, simply because ‘brothers and fathers’ are relatively unknown to me. I know what
that
look is. But as well as I recognise it, I also recognise that it is not everything.” She sighed and threw away the twig in one hasty gesture. “It’s not so much the way he looks at me or what he says — it is what he will
not
say and what he does
not
want me to see in him. If he were consistent in his actions and words, I would have no hesitation.” She sighed. “Oh, it was much easier when I had made up my mind and was so certain about what I knew he was!”

Holly smiled tightly, uncomfortable with her cousin’s struggle to explain away the man’s behaviour. “Yes, consistency would be a blessing indeed, but I’m afraid
that
quality is sorely lacking in humanity in general. Ourselves included I fear; for I would hazard a guess that if Mr Darcy were not half as handsome as he is, your feelings about him would not be quite so confused. Men are not the only ones to let a pretty face go to their heads or affect their judgement, are they?”

Holly’s expression grew serious as she continued walking beside her cousin. “Do not believe that I think you are a simpleton, Eliza, or anything of the sort. You
have
, however, led a protected and sheltered life in Hertfordshire, and it’s happy for you that you have. But, cousin, men can be scheming, and devious — and it can be very hard to discern their motives, especially when we ourselves are conflicted in what we feel about them.”

Elizabeth gave a hard little laugh and for a moment Holly thought she saw a shadow of fury flicker across her face.

“Don’t think that men like that are strangers in protected and sheltered places. On the contrary, it seems to me they actively seek those places out.”

Holly looked at the ground for a moment and then quietly said, “I suppose you mean Lydia.”

“And by Lydia I mean her husband,” Elizabeth said sharply. “Yes, there is a fine example to enlighten our conversation! An apt to illustration of how a sheltered life can be the most dangerous gift someone can give you in the guise of love and care.”

“Forgive me, Elizabeth,” Holly replied, keeping her eyes lowered. “I don’t mean to come across as all-knowing and worldly wise. Heaven knows there are enough such men in the world to meet us wherever we happen to be — even tucked away in a tiny village in Scotland.” She kicked at a pile of gathering leaves on the edge of the path. “And there are plenty of us who are more than willing to listen to them.”

Elizabeth looked at Holly curiously, saying nothing in case this reflection had some foundation in experience she might want to relate. Holly did not elaborate, though, and soon Elizabeth’s thoughts wandered back to the events of the morning and all the unpleasant memories and regrets the sight of Mr Darcy had conjured up.

“I was fatally mistaken in Mr Wickham. I could be just as mistaken in Mr Darcy and then my fault would be great indeed.”

Holly smiled. “You, dear cousin, feel you are too quick to judge a man — not that I can see much evidence that you have judged this Mr Darcy wrongly — but then,
I
am too apt to mistrust, so I may be ascribing sinister motives to his strange behaviours when upon further examination they may be perfectly innocent.

“But as much as I try, as I think on it, I cannot reconcile myself that he just
happens
to be visiting a nearby friend at the same time you just happen to be visiting us. And such a friend as that . . . how close can they really be, Eliza? They appear to be so very different in temperament — not that I care so much for Mr Darcy’s manners, but as questionable as they are, they are to be preferred to those of that Lord Baugham.”

“Oh, Holly. Surely we have Lord Baugham to thank for not ending up as the topic for conversation and speculation at every dinner table in the parish! He really did us all a service even if it was quite a silly one. I was so very awkward and silent . . . as for Mr Darcy . . . ” Elizabeth sighed and seemed to be watching something far away beyond the clearing and the rolling hills. “I wish I understood what he was about. I wish . . . I wish for once I knew the motive for his actions or words. If I knew that, then perhaps . . . ”

Holly watched her. For some reason Elizabeth’s words unsettled her. She wanted to ask her if she loved Mr Darcy, but she could not. Strangely enough, she was frightened of the answer. If Elizabeth was regretting her choices and actions over the past year despite all protestations of reason and facts, if she was still, when seeing him face to face, undecided as to what her feelings for him were, it seemed their old, familiar, safe relationship was changing, and right now she needed to know everything was just as it always had been with them.

The strong winds of the night before had shaken the trees and blown away the brilliant leaves. Now the trunks stood black and naked against the green of the grass and pines. They stood silently side-by-side until Elizabeth reached out her hand and took Holly’s.

“Whatever is the truth about Mr Darcy, I have come to realise that the follies and inconsistencies I so enjoy observing and laughing at in my fellow human beings can be found very much closer to home. I should start with myself the next time I want to marvel at how ridiculous people’s actions and words can be.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, don’t be too severe with yourself! Don’t make the same mistakes in the opposite direction. You do not know why he has come; you could still be right.”

Elizabeth sighed, but she was smiling now. “You are right, I could. I am certainly selfish enough to hope I am, even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. I suppose that is a peculiar brand of optimism, but I find it has served me both well and ill in the past so I am loath to relinquish it.”

Holly looked at her pleadingly. “Elizabeth, don’t let your guilty conscience over hasty words and uncharitable thoughts make you blind to the fact that this man has yet to do anything other than prove his power to you. Not respect or esteem or even love. And until he does convince your heart as well as your mind . . . ”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. That is what I think as well. And, more importantly perhaps, feel. Mr Darcy probably has as many regrets about this affair as I do. I have yet to see anything that proves the opposite.”

She could have added “unfortunately” and the word hung in the air between the two girls, both equally aware of it. But still, Holly thought, even if interpreting Mr Darcy’s actions in the best possible light and knowing her cousin’s honest feelings on the subject, there was still a long way to what she knew Elizabeth wanted and deserved in a man.

She kept hold of her cousin’s hand, feeling the need to break away from this subject, this feeling of upheaval that was in the air. It was stupid, she knew, this wish that they could always go on as they had before. Of course Elizabeth would marry someday, hopefully to a man who deserved her, and changes were coming to her own life as well — whether for good or ill she could not see. But for this little span of time, Holly only wanted to enjoy her cousin’s company, and remember what they had always been to each other; she wanted to be a carefree girl again. She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand tightly and began their old game.

“Here I bake . . . ”

Elizabeth glanced at her for a moment, then smiled and continued the childish rhyme.

“Here I brew . . . ”

Holly’s grin widened.

“Here I make my wedding-cake . . . ”

“And here I mean to break through!” Both girls then, hands clasped, began to run down the path, remembering the days when their dream wedding cakes had been carefully crafted out of mud and sticks, breaking through the recriminations, regrets and worries that surrounded them and determined, for the time being at least, that nothing and no one would break them apart.

T
HE SURPRISE ENCOUNTER AT THE
church that morning seemed to have turned the tables regarding the tempers of the gentlemen. Lord Baugham was in a splendid mood and Mr Darcy hardly said a word as they walked home again. Baugham had exchanged a few words — all condescension and ease — with the reverend, complementing him on the service and confessing that if all Presbyterian sermons were as enjoyable as this morning’s, all they had to do was to change the pews into slightly larger and more comfortable ones and he would convert on the spot. Darcy, frowning at this frivolity, suddenly objected to his attempts at fulfilling a landowner’s social responsibilities and merely wanted to be on his way again.

This, however, could not be accomplished before the local representative of the landed gentry, a Sir Torquil Tristam complete with wife and three daughters in tow, made himself and his family known to his lordship in a long and detailed speech. Once they extricated themselves from his exuberant conversation, Lord Baugham stopped to wave cheerfully at Mr and Mrs Robertson, of the Caledonian Thistle Inn, and their brood of children making their way down the slope. Only then was Darcy successful in dragging him away.

“And now you suddenly don’t approve of my landlordly duties?” Baugham quipped. “Just when they may come in handy to you too.”

“What do you mean by that?” Darcy asked sourly, his only wish being that he could find peace and quiet enough to contemplate that morning’s results. He still could not quite decide whether it had been a success or a failure.

“You still want to break down the door to Rosefarm Cottage, don’t you? Or have you established an abduction scheme now that you know the lady ventures outside.”

“Well, it is quite obvious my company is not enough for you for tea anymore,” Darcy answered coldly.

Baugham gave him a long sideways look. “Darcy. Who is Miss Bennet?”

“She is an acquaintance of mine. And of my sister. Mr Bingley is betrothed to her sister.”

“And you have come to see her. Or has she come to see you?”

Darcy looked straight ahead, controlled his features and, with an air of calm, answered his friend’s questions.

“I came to see you. I told you as much.”

“Why? Is that your only purpose in coming here, Darcy?”

Darcy looked up at the sky. “It looks like rain,” he said. “We had better hurry home.”

“
H
OLLY,”
E
LIZABETH GASPED. “
S
TOP.
P
LEASE.
I can’t run any further.”

“No, not until you have chased all your vexation and doubt away!” Holly cried, tugging at Elizabeth’s arm.

“I have! I swear I have,” her cousin panted and laughed, planting her feet and refusing to run another step. “Tea . . . I need tea.”