Unforgiving Temper (53 page)

“Even if I agree, what makes you think
Grissholm will relent? And if he does, do not imagine it will come
cheaply.”

Within a few minutes, Bonham returned to the
center of the field and Richard went to join him.

Bonham's voice was intentionally loud enough
for all to hear. “Lord Grissholm is feeling generous today and
can be persuaded to consider the quarrel resolved.”

Richard could not help the sigh of relief
that escaped him.

“However,” Grissholm's second continued with
a gleam in his eye, “as specified under Rule Five, his lordship
expects Mr. Darcy to beg his pardon and acknowledge that the
viscount's behavior was entirely honorable and proper as concerns
the young lady in question.”

Richard started in dismay and Darcy's
murderous growl instantly filled the air in answer.

“Of course, if these terms are not
acceptable, Lord Grissholm stands ready to continue the duel
just as soon as Mr. Darcy is able.” Bonham gleefully raised
his brows to Richard, and then returned to Grissholm's side to
await the decision.

Despondently, Richard turned back and
rejoined Darcy. Grissholm had left him no choice.

“The devil take him!” Darcy snarled at
Richard as the doctor continued to work. “I will not sacrifice
Elizabeth! If I accept his terms, she will be branded an outrageous
flirt who willingly dallied with her employer, and got what she
deserved. It would ruin her and her family forever. I cannot do
that. If I die defending her, then at least her honor will be
preserved.”

Lawrence finished the last of the bandaging
at a snail's pace and then slowly tied off the wrapping, attempting
to postpone the coming tragedy for as long as possible. Finally
unable to do any more, he looked to Richard and they both helped
Darcy up.

Richard's hold lingered to support Darcy's
unsteady stance. It only lasted a moment, and then he was curtly
shrugged off. The cool, defiant look in Darcy's face twisted his
stomach into anguished knots. The humiliating demands had
re-kindled his cousin's sense of honor and justice, which, once
ignited, could not be extinguished until Darcy was satisfied. It
had been this way since their childhood.

“You are certain, then?”

“I would rather die with courage and give
Elizabeth her life back than live knowing I doomed the woman I
love, and her entire family, to a life of degradation and ruin. Can
you understand that at all?”

“Yes, Darcy, I can.” Richard's heart grew
heavy with acceptance of Darcy's coming demise and the waste of a
good life, but Grissholm had truly left him with no honorable
alternative. “And I would not have you do anything different,
Cousin. It is Grissholm who is the coward.”

Feeling a sorrow almost too great to bear,
Richard stepped back, giving Darcy a parting bow. Darcy pressed his
lips into a grim expression of affection and slowly, painfully
retrieved his sword from the ground. Without another look back, he
walked away and joined Grissholm in the center of the field.

“I reject the terms!” Darcy spat
contemptuously. “Your outrage against Miss Elizabeth Bennet is
unforgivable and I shall defend her honor to the death, if need
be.”

“I was rather hoping you would feel that way
about it,” replied Grissholm softly, his face widening into a
broad, confident smile. Giving only the briefest of salutes, he
raised his blood-stained sword and lunged at Darcy's heart.

Lord Grissholm lunged forward, driving
his blade towards Darcy's chest with lethal speed. Darcy parried
desperately, narrowly escaping the viscount's thrust, but
Grissholm's blade darted around instantly for another attempt.
Wrenching away from the gleaming steel, Darcy nearly doubled over
in pain as a hot rush of blood began to saturate the bandages at
his side.

Panting in tortuous breaths, Darcy rushed in,
striking with a flurry of rapid strokes that were too-easily
repelled. He was forced to fall back out of Grissholm's reach, and
searched desperately for any opening he could use to his advantage.
It was a race against time. If he could not force an error before
his strength bled out of him, it would be over. But even as
hopeless as it seemed, he could not give up. He would not fail
Elizabeth again. If it took his last breath, he would not fail
her.

“You disappoint me, Darcy. I have been
imagining this day for a very long time and I expected more from
you.”

“I am not done yet!” he growled fiercely.

“Very well, then, let us see what you have
left!”

The thirst for revenge shining in his eyes,
Grissholm attacked, driving Darcy backward as he slashed again and
again, the impact ringing against Darcy's defending blade.

The two men were focused wholly upon their
struggle, their entire existence consisting only of two deadly
blades glittering in the sunlight, the ringing tones of parry and
riposte, and the explosive movements of lunge and retreat. All else
faded away, leaving them in their own private world of violent
conflict. They did not see the observers scrutinizing every blow as
it fell. Nor did they hear the rattling wheels and pounding hooves
of an approaching carriage as it flew across the meadow, drawn by
two lathered post-horses.

“Stop the duel!” Richard cried when he caught
sight of the oncoming coach. “We have company.”

Bonham eyed the equipage suspiciously. “How
convenient. Darcy could not stand to lose, eh, Fitzwilliam?”

“In spite of what you think, I am as
surprised as you are; but in any case, we had better stop the duel.
The last thing we need is an uninvited witness to this affair.”

“A bit of luck for Darcy, I would say,”
Bonham muttered sourly, walking away. He approached the two
combatants just as Darcy blocked, parried, and with a shrewd feint,
brought his sword about on Grissholm's right.

“Gentlemen, you must disengage.”

Bonham's announcement distracted the duelists
for only an instant, but it was enough to slow Grissholm's reaction
as Darcy's thrust carried through, piercing Grissholm's arm just
above the elbow. The injured arm spasmed in response and a trail of
blood stained the white sleeve.

“Bonham!” Grissholm roared furiously. “What
the devil are you doing?”

Bonham looked at the bleeding arm in
surprise. “My apologies, Grissholm, but the contest must be
suspended. We have an unexpected guest.”

Grissholm's physician came running to examine
the injury and was brusquely shrugged off as the carriage came to a
frantic halt directly in front of the men.

Suddenly released from his battle for
survival, Darcy's knees trembled, then gave way. Richard was next
to him in an instant, helping him to stand as they both faced the
unfamiliar coach. Their curiosity turned to astonishment when the
carriage door flew open and Charles Bingley tumbled out.

After giving a quick glance to Darcy and
Grissholm, Bingley anxiously turned back to the open door, extended
his hand into the carriage and drew forth a hesitant young woman
bundled in a heavy winter coat and bonnet.

Darcy's mouth dropped open in shocked
amazement.

“It cannot be!” Grissholm's own look of
surprise instantly hardened into bitter disdain. “What is the
meaning of this, Bingley? Is this some sort of joke?”

“It is no joke, my lord,” the lady whispered
tentatively. Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to look at him and
then reached out as she saw his bloodied arm. “Robert, you are
hurt!”

Grissholm's countenance remained cold and
indifferent. “Do not presume to address me in that manner,
madam!”

The woman's expectant face fell dismally at
his rebuff and she turned tearfully to Bingley. “I told you it was
too late, sir. I am sorry. I will wait in the carriage.”

Bingley stayed her efforts to escape from
Grissholm's contemptuous glare.

“No, please! Wait a moment!' he cried
desperately. “Perhaps I have done this rather badly, but
Lord Grissholm, I think the lady deserves more courtesy than
this after travelling night and day to get here. Do you not know
her?”

“I know who you would like me to think she
is, but you are woefully mistaken. Catherine Monroe died ten
years ago – thanks to Darcy's
courtesies
!”

Darcy's low growl was ignored as the woman
stepped hesitantly in Grissholm's direction, hopeful once more.

“Not so, my lord. I am Catherine, and quite
alive. Am I so altered you do not know me?”

In spite of himself, Grissholm's eyes were
drawn to her face. A flicker of hope crossed his face for an
instant, then was abruptly extinguished.

“It is not possible. I do not know who you
are, madam, but this gentleman has wasted your time in bringing you
here. Doctor, I am ready now.” Turning on his heels, Grissholm
stalked away.

Darcy gazed with wonder at the woman, his
fatigue held at bay by the shock of Bingley's astonishing arrival.
It was indeed Catherine Monroe! She was older now, but the
years had not diminished the striking combination of lustrous
golden hair and deep blue eyes that he remembered. He looked to
Bingley for an explanation, but found his friend's attentions
wholly engaged in comforting the distraught woman.

Catherine's tear-filled eyes followed
Grissholm's retreat, an array of painful emotions playing on her
face. She watched despondently as the doctor bandaged Grissholm's
arm with quick efficiency, then packed his medical bag and returned
to the carriage. The viscount remained where he was, alone in the
clearing.

Much to Darcy's surprise, an expression of
indignation began to grow on the lady's face and she wiped briskly
at the tears on her cheeks. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep
breath and resolutely made her way to Grissholm's side. Her somber
words carried in the still morning air.

“It is clear my presence offends you, sir,
and so I will take my leave; but before I go, I must tell you that
you are mistaken. This journey was by no means a waste of time; for
I am glad to know at last what has become of the man I have loved
all these years. You have not the slightest resemblance to the one
I remember. I fear he was an imaginary being that only existed in
my mind.
He
was kind and loving and gentle. The cold,
unyielding man I see now releases me from the acute regret I have
suffered these many years, and I shall not waste another minute
mourning what I thought my choices cost me that day I left
Cambridge.”

For a long moment, they stood facing each
other, caught up in a private memory known only to them. As
Catherine turned to go, Grissholm caught her with his words.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but what did
you expect me to be! Did you think I would forget so easily? All my
dreams – our dreams – were shattered when you vanished without a
trace, without any explanation!”

“I had no choice! If I had stayed, it would
have meant ruin for us both!”

“No choice? There is always a choice. You
should have come to me. Whatever it was, I would have helped.”

She heard a shadow of melancholy in his words
and her anger dissolved. She gazed at him in thoughtful
contemplation. “Would you have? I have often wondered. But I was so
young, and easily persuaded to believe you would not want the
penniless daughter of a man who had recklessly gambled away his
fortune.”

“It would not have mattered to me. Did you
really think me so inconstant?”

“No. Truthfully, I did not. And that is what
made it all the more difficult. I knew your affection for me was
genuine; and that is why I had to leave. Mr. Wickham made it
quite clear that – ”

“Wickham?! What has he to do with it?”

“Mr. Wickham had discovered my father's
grave financial situation. Using a false promise of aid for my
father, he tricked me into exchanging some letters and then meeting
him in private – compromising situations from which he hoped to
profit. He made certain that the circumstances of the rendezvous
had seriously compromised my character. I had no money, of course,
but Mr. Wickham insisted that I ask you for it. He made it
very clear that he would destroy my reputation if I did not
cooperate. If I had married you, it would have been a never-ending
nightmare. The threat of scandal would have hung over us forever.
My father's recklessness had already ruined my life and I could not
bear to think my folly would ruin yours as well; and so I fled as
far as I could from Cambridge, and Mr. Wickham…and you.”

“Without a single word,” he accused
softly.

“I could not. I dared not because I knew if
you tried to dissuade me in the least, I would not have had the
strength to refuse you.” Catherine paused, taking a deep breath to
steady herself. “Father had been outraged at my decision to take
employment and so we did not part on good terms. I settled into my
position quickly, but I refrained from writing any letters fearing
father would reject me completely – and I could not risk discovery
by Mr. Wickham, or you.”

“I searched for you. I searched day and night
for a twelve-month.”

Catherine looked away from the painful memory
that played on Grissholm's face. “For several months, I immersed
myself in building a new life. My employer was a kind man, and had
guessed the ill effect of my employment upon my family connections.
He encouraged me to reconcile with my father, and even arranged for
my passage back to London. But when I arrived, I discovered that a
terrible fire had taken my home and family. I had nothing left in
London, so I returned to Yorkshire and accepted my fate.”

Grissholm's bitter laugh was laced with deep
sadness. “Nothing? Not a very flattering measure of my affection,
is it?”

“I did return to Cambridge looking for you –
but I encountered Mr. Wickham instead, and he assured me that
your affections were most decidedly engaged elsewhere. He said that
you had retired to the country with a young lady. He told me that
your last words of me were that you were glad to have escaped an
objectionable alliance and you never wanted to see me again!”