Page 82 of A Quiet Affection

“How are you always so calm?” Georgiana replied. “Lizzy, I would do anything ifIcould control my temper as well as you can.”

“I assure you I am not calm at present.”

“Bingley will shoot him, I am sure.” Georgiana replied.

“I do not wish for that either.”

“Oh!” came Mrs. Hurst’s shout from by the window. “I believe they are returning.”

Elizabeth’s heart leapt. ‘They’. Both of them.

Miss Bingley said querulously from a different window, “Are you sure? That is certainly Mr. Darcy from his height, but how can you tell that it is our brother? It is too far to make out any features.”

“He is wearing a blue coat, and Charles set out in his blue coat.”

“Maybe it is the surgeon wearing the same color coat by chance,” Miss Bingley replied. “He is coming with Mr. Darcy to inform us that our brother is dead.”

The passage of two minutes brought the two gentlemen walking through the park close enough that even the anxious solicitude of Bingley’s sister acknowledged that the shorter gentleman was certainly Charles Bingley.

The atmosphere of the room changed. There was laughing. Mr. Hurst raised a toast to his brother. Georgiana sat at the piano and started to play a fine rendition of The British Grenadiers.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner still had some anxiety, but they also laughed and lifted their glasses in the same toasts.

Elizabeth let out a long breath and walked to the window. She placed her head against the panes.

Before Darcy and Bingley entered the drawing room, Elizabeth heard a horse galloping off. And that was enough to make her guess what her husband would announce.

“Mr. Wickham was shot during the duel,” Darcy said when he entered the room. “Bingley shot into the air during the first round, but when Wickham insisted on them shooting a second round, he hit Wickham who was instantly killed.”

Thank God.

Thank God. And Jane was young enough to enjoy most her life.

Elizabeth sat in the windowsill as she listened to Bingley’s family surround him and ask him many questions. Hurst once again proposed a toast, but Bingley refused to let him make it.

Otherwise, the young man said little. She had never heard Mr. Bingley be so silent.

Darcy came up to Elizabeth, and he pulled her into his strong arms.

She leaned against him and wrapped her arms around him. She could feel that he was tense. She kissed him softly, even though he generally preferred for them to not kiss when in company.

He then squeezed her tighter.

“How awful was it?”

“Exceedingly,” Fitzwilliam replied. He pressed his face into her hair.

After some seconds Fitzwilliam placed his mouth by her ear and whispered, “It was Mr. Clarke who shot Wickham. Bingley wishes for you to tell your sister, but no one else must ever hear.”

Elizabeth went still. Then she nodded.

Fitzwilliam greeted Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner a minute later as they came over to join him and Elizabeth. “My apologies that such a matter has interrupted your visit.”

“It certainly is not a matter that you deserve any blame for,” Mr. Gardiner replied.

Elizabeth sat down on the window seat again.

She took a deep breath. She should ready herself to play the hostess once more.