An Unequalled Affection: Strangers and Second Chances, #3

By Meg Osborne

Devastated by his cousin's betrayal and watching all his hopes of future happiness slip away, Colonel Fitzwilliam calls on assistance from surprising quarters, but involving George Wickham in anything is a recipe for disaster.

 

Fitzwilliam Darcy tries to stop a duel and find some solution to a problem he helped cause, grateful that he does not have to proceed alone. He has at last acknowledged his love for Elizabeth Bennet and with her by his side, he feels he can achieve anything, even the impossible task of making peace between his cousin and Charles Bingley.

 

In a fit of confusion and grief, Jane calls off her engagement and refuses to see either gentleman again – but at the very moment her sister's heart is breaking Elizabeth Bennet's is coming to life. She is forced to keep her affection for Mr Darcy a secret, though, when his part in Jane's unhappiness becomes known. Lizzy's loyalty is torn between her family and the man she loves…

 

Book Three in the Strangers and Second Chances series, a variation Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meg Osborne
• Release date: Jul 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781386524526

Meg Osborne

Meg Osborne is an avid reader, tea drinker and unrepentant history nerd.  She writes sweet historical romance stories and Jane Austen fanfiction, and can usually be found knitting, dreaming up new stories, or adding more books to her tbr list than she'll get through in a lifetime.

Book preview

Chapter One

"H elp me, Elizabeth . You are the only one who can."

It had not been a declaration of love. It was not a declaration of anything, so much as a plea for assistance.

Assistance out of a mess he made!

Yet Elizabeth Bennet could not help replaying the words Fitzwilliam Darcy had whispered to her while he held tightly to her hand, pinning her in place next to him in the hallway of Longbourn, moments after his friend Charles Bingley and cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had decided to fight a duel for the hand of Lizzy’s sister, Jane.

What a disaster everything had become!

Lizzy?

Mrs Bennet’s shrill voice pierced the silence and both she and Mr Darcy took a shrewd step back, realising at the same moment the intimacy of their stance. He let go of his hold on her hand and Lizzy glanced down, surprised at how strangely alone his absence made her feel.

Coming, Mama! she called, shooting him one last apologetic smile. He followed her back into the parlour, yet some vague unspoken word passed between them, the acknowledgement that now, amongst his friends and her family, they must slip back into anonymity.

We were just trying to persuade Mr Bingley of the necessity for a ball, Lydia remarked, with a sly smile.

A ball? Lizzy frowned, glancing over her shoulder at Mr Darcy before returning to look at her sisters. Nobody seemed at all aware of what had occurred between Mr Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam, or if they were, they did not care, their concerns fully superseded by the mention of celebration. And what is there to celebrate? Jane being the object of not one but two good men’s affection? How can there be any solution that does not lead to heartbreak for someone, if not everyone?

A ball? she repeated in a whisper, as she slid into a seat beside Jane.

Jane said nothing but gave her head a tiny, imperceptible shake.

We shall consider it, Miss Lydia, Mr Bingley replied, with a wide smile. The clock on the mantel chimed and he took it as his cue, leaping to his feet. In any case, we have taken up far too much of your time already and will bid you good day. His eyes sought out Jane amidst the crowd of her family. Perhaps you will see your way to calling on us at Netherfield before long, Miss Bennet. He reddened, before widening the invitation to include all of his neighbours. You must all come. Whenever you wish. We shall be very happy to see you again.

Lizzy’s attention was on her sister, but Jane’s features were, for once, entirely unreadable.

Good day!

Good day, Miss Elizabeth.

It took Lizzy a moment to realise that Mr Darcy’s gruff farewell was directed at her and when she lifted her head their eyes met for a moment. She coloured, recalling how honestly, how desperately he had commanded her help.

Good day, she managed at last, her throat tight and voice strained. She wrenched her gaze away, praying her family had not noticed her discomposure.

Lydia and Kitty had begun eagerly to discuss the promise of another ball and even Mrs Bennet found her attention caught up by whispers about music and dancing, although she, like Elizabeth, continued to cast a careful eye towards Jane.

Well!

It was Caroline who brought this brief moment of indecision to a definite close, and with it, the Netherfield party made their way swiftly out of Longbourn and back the way they had come, leaving a buzz of excitement in their wake.

Lizzy was grateful that her sisters converged upon Mrs Bennet, discussing in loud, shrill voices the particularities of a possible ball, and left her free to tug Jane by the hand towards a window, safe enough that they might speak a word or two without fear of being overheard.

Well, Jane?

Well, Lizzy? Jane must have heard the sharp tone in her voice because she softened it with a smile that did little to ease Lizzy’s concerns. Jane’s brow was free of a frown for scarcely a moment before her smile slipped and her features sank once more. What did you and Mr Darcy speak about? She swallowed, attempting to smile once more. Let me guess: your future is settled as easily as mine is pulled into chaos. Will there be a wedding?

Lizzy’s eyes widened and she shook her head, surprised and stunned that Jane could imagine she would use her sister’s discomfort for her own gain. As if I can think of anything but your future happiness! She opened her mouth to say as much but stopped short, conscious that, no matter how much she might like to deny it she could not honestly admit that she and Mr Darcy had spoken of nothing but Jane.

Principally Jane, she reminded herself. And Mr Bingley. And Colonel Fitzwilliam. If Darcy sought her hand - her help - he did so for the sake of their friends, nothing more.

Help me, Elizabeth. You are the only one who can.

She tried for a smile and this time thought she had at least a small degree of success.

You must know something I do not, Jane. Mr Darcy’s concern is all for his friend, for his cousin, and you.

A BALL? YOU PROMISED them a ball, Charles! You might have consulted me before doing so, as the majority of the organising will fall to me, as it always does. Who, pray, do you mean to invite...?

The promise of a ball might have been enough to distract Caroline but the other three occupants of the Netherfield carriage seemed to pay her only the dimmest degree of attention, their thoughts all roaming elsewhere.

Darcy focused on the window, watching the pretty Hertfordshire scenery roll past as they made the short, easy journey from Longbourn to Netherfield. He could not help but remember the last look Elizabeth Bennet had shot him, her dark eyes bright with feeling. He had failed her already, he knew, by allowing things to escalate as far as they had. A duel! And one he was now bound to be part of. He sighed, rubbing at the heavy creases on his forehead and wondering if he might yet manage to call the whole thing off. He could work on Bingley, he was sure, persuade him out of such a course.

But Bingley was not the one who instigated it, his conscience reminded him, and his brows sank further into a frown. When had he ever been able to persuade Richard of anything he did not wish to do? And what is to say he will even care to see me? He could not forget the disappointment, the bitterness, the betrayal in Richard’s eyes, any more than he could forget Elizabeth’s fearful, hopeful gaze.

Even now, I do not think you are listening to a single word I say! Caroline’s voice grew shrill, and obediently Darcy, as well as his sister and her brother turned to look at her, their silent acknowledgement proof enough that she was right.

’Tis only a ball, Caro, Bingley ventured at last, with a faint smile. "And it is not certain we shall even hold it. I only said perhaps."

To say anything at all is to commit us, you know that! Caroline bristled. And to say it to Lydia Bennet! The news will be all over Meryton before nightfall!

Aye, and what does that matter? Bingley’s smile grew cruel. Our return was not some secret!

Darcy frowned, wondering just how to account for the change in his friend’s character. Bingley had always been light-hearted - he had not the care nor hesitation that Darcy favoured, often to his detriment. But he seemed almost to relish in the chaos his return had caused. It was as if he meant to prove something, and Richard Fitzwilliam was to be the perfect foil.

I think a ball would be a charming thing!

This was Georgiana, who seemed determined, even now, to play peacemaker. She smiled brightly at Charles, who seemed not to notice.

It is kind of you to suggest such a thing, for it will be the perfect opportunity to meet people and make friends. She turned to Caroline, silencing any complaint with the offer of assistance. And I do so enjoy organising things, Miss Bingley, you must allow me to help you in any way I can.

Oh. Caroline’s frown fell, but even with this most generous of suggestions she could not allow her brother to entirely escape censure. Well, that is kind of you, Georgiana, dear, but I still maintain that Charles might have mentioned it to us before declaring it aloud in front of Lydia Bennet.

Charles hid his face behind his hand, but not quick enough to prevent Darcy from seeing his eyes roll in amused irritation. He was startled, for he could scarcely recall ever seeing Charles so openly dismissive where Caroline was concerned. He might complain about her and tease her but to be so openly derisive, in company, was another recent change in his friend’s demeanour.

I wonder if you will visit the stables with me, Bingley, when we reach Netherfield. It was the first place Darcy could think of that would be entirely inhospitable to the ladies and, it seemed, this was a correct assumption, for both Caroline and Georgiana turned to one another, immediately discussing the cheerier topic of what one might wear to a ball if one was to be forced to host one.

Before long, the carriage rolled to a stop and after helping the ladies down and into the house, Darcy turned towards the stables, pausing at the last moment to redirect Bingley, who seemed to have entirely forgotten Darcy’s suggestion and was more than a little irritated to be reminded of it.

The stables, Darcy? Now? Bingley frowned, tugging at the crease in his sleeve that had appeared when Darcy had caught hold of him. What can be so very important it must be discussed immediately? I know even less about horses than you do, so -

I do not wish to speak to you about horses, Darcy muttered, striving to keep his annoyance in check but finding himself surprisingly lacking in the patience that was usually endless when it came to his friend. We must discuss tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Bingley’s eyebrows lifted, then settled into the same nonchalant expression he favoured of late. Ah, yes. Tomorrow. He shrugged his thin shoulders. Well, I am not entirely well-versed in duelling, but I think we have said all we need to say already. You and I shall meet Colonel Fitzwilliam and whichever of his lackeys he presses into service -

You mean to go ahead with it, then? Darcy’s voice was sharp, and he glanced over his shoulder, conscious that they had not yet reached the sanctuary of the stables and fearing his words might carry to the ears of either man’s sister. You have not seen sense?

Seen sense? Bingley scoffed. What sense? Fitzwilliam called me out. T’would be cowardly to refuse him. His smile slipped, replaced by a grim expression Darcy could never yet recall seeing on his friend’s merry features. Do you mean to suggest I am cowardly, Darcy?

I mean to suggest fighting a duel is foolish, particularly against one infinitely better equipped than you -

Ah, I am not a coward but a fool. Bingley’s voice grew serious, and the sound of it chilled Darcy to the bone. Well, do not hold back. We are friends. Tell me what you think. He kicked bitterly at a stone that lined their path.

"We are friends, Darcy reminded him. If I caution you at all it is because I do not care to see you come to harm."

And what about your cousin? Bingley’s head lifted, turning all of a sudden to meet Darcy’s gaze. Do you care what harm may come to him?

Chapter Two

Ordinarily, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam cared little for the administrative duties afforded him