Colonel Fitzwilliam's Challenge Read online

  Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Challenge

  The Cousins Series: Book 3

  Jennifer Joy

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Challenge: A Pride & Prejudice Variation”

  The Cousins Series: Book 3

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems — except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews — without permission in writing from its publisher, Jennifer Joy.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Jennifer Joy

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  Email: [email protected]

  Copyright © 2015 Jennifer Joy

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13:978-0-9962310-5-3

  For my wonderful husband.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Thank you

  About the Author

  Other Books by Jennifer Joy

  Chapter 1

  Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam tried to remember the last time he felt so melancholy— not to wallow in his misery, but rather, to recall how he had pulled himself out of it. He pasted a smile on his face, doing his level best to make it at least appear genuine.

  The summer sun warmed Aunt Catherine’s parlor at Rosings, where all of Richard’s family had assembled for his cousin’s wedding. Miss Anne de Bourgh, had found love with theater owner, Monsieur Luc Mauvier, a man who demanded respect for the simple reason that he was willing to call Aunt Catherine his mother-in-law. He was the bravest of men and, from the sound of his laughter, the merriest that day. Outwardly, Richard shared in their joy, but inwardly, his heart ached.

  Standing next to Anne were Darcy and his new bride, Elizabeth. With them, Richard saw firsthand what he would not otherwise have believed possible. Darcy had never been one to express emotion, yet there he stood, next to his wife, so close that their arms touched. Occasionally, Darcy reached for her hand. More frequently still, he rested his fingers on the small of her back or up near Mrs. Darcy’s forehead to smooth a strand of her hair. Darcy's tender displays of affection, given so naturally, were not lost on Richard, and the emptiness he felt in his heart intensified.

  The opulent parlor burst with light and laughter as Richard looked about the room. The last time he was there, thunderclouds clapped as Anne refused Darcy in front of Aunt Catherine, using an aged letter to bend her mother’s will. That letter and Anne’s refusal had set off a chain of events which led to two happy unions and an improved atmosphere compared to what he remembered from the last time he had set foot in the room.

  Tall windows with opened, satin curtains beckoned for someone to appreciate the view outside. Hoping to rein in his emotions and improve his company before anyone noticed his ill-humor, he looked out. Dense, green leaves rustled in the soft breeze, birds flew to and from their nests, feeding their young and offering yet another picture of domestic bliss — something Richard despaired he would never enjoy.

  A hand slapped him firmly on the back, startling him from his thoughts. Richard looked to his side to see a smiling Darcy.

  "It will be you next," Darcy said as he again patted Richard’s shoulder harder than he needed to.

  "Put me in the way of a nearsighted, good woman with a modest fortune, and perhaps such a miracle might occur." Richard managed to chuckle, though the words were more a truth than a jest. He was the second son of the Earl of Matlock and, as such, had little to offer a lady in the way of security and comfort. His rank as a colonel in His Majesty's Army barely covered his own necessities, much less those of a family. To add insult to injury, he was plain-looking. His only merit was his pleasant personality— which was failing him at the moment.

  "You have made me a believer of miracles, my good cousin, and I have no doubt that you shall receive your heart's desire. I had thought my heart incapable of feeling such love, but I was wrong. You were right when you said that a good woman is worth fighting for. I have never been happier in my whole life than I am now with Elizabeth. You are a good man, Richard. You deserve such happiness."

  Richard smiled and clapped his well-meaning cousin on the back, squeezing his opposite shoulder. "Thank you, Darcy. I hope you are right." Feeling that a change in topic was necessary, Richard asked, "What are your plans now?"

  "I am eager to show Pemberley to Elizabeth. Today, we will return with Father and Georgiana to Darcy House in London, and tomorrow we will go as far as Netherfield Park, so that my wife might see her family again before we go home." Darcy’s chest expanded in pride as he spoke of his wife.

  "It is a good plan. I wish you a safe journey and a pleasant visit with Mrs. Bennet." This time, Richard's chuckle was in earnest. Mrs. Bennet, Darcy's new mother-in-law, tested his cousin’s patience and sense of propriety to the limit.

  "Father teases me as you do, and Georgiana encourages him. Though I love my family dearly, I am grateful they shall continue on to Pemberley before we do.” Darcy glanced at his wife, who was deep in conversation with the elder Mr. Darcy. Richard could sense the calm and peace that overcame him from that quick glimpse. After a long sigh, Darcy added, “I will not deny that Mrs. Bennet challenges my forbearance, but Elizabeth has helped me see how my character stands to improve with her association.”

  “Like tempered steel,” suggested Richard, the grin still on his face.

  “That is precisely what Elizabeth said. She has such a way of seeing the humor in ridiculous comments and situations. From her, I am slowly learning to focus on the fun instead of allowing myself to become offended.”

  Pleased at the positive effect Mrs. Darcy had on his cousin, Richard said, "I daresay you would put up with anything to keep your dear wife happy. It is as it should be, Darcy, and I congratulate you for it."

  A demanding voice pierced through the noisy chatter in the room. "Darcy!"

  Both men cringed at the sound of Aunt Catherine's sharp voice.

  Darcy sighed. "I had best see what she wants."

  Richard nodded, content that Aunt Catherine had not called his name. After Darcy married someone other than Anne, she had made it clear to their relatives that Richard was now her favorite nephew. The negatives far outweighed the benefits in his thinking.

  Wrapping one arm around himself, and resting his chin on his uplifted arm, Richard turned his attention back to the window. He would control his emotions. This was a happy day for his cousins — especially for Anne. He would not spoil it for the world.

  He stood up straighter, his hands dropp
ing to his side, and filled his lungs with determination.

  Richard turned toward the center of the room to enter the conversation when he saw his mother walking in his direction. She joined him by the window. Gently placing her delicate hand on top of the bold, gold tassels on the shoulder of his uniform, she asked, "How are you, Son?"

  Richard smiled at his mother, Lady Hannah Matlock. He knew he could not fool her motherly intuition, so he nodded his head firmly and said, "I am well now. Sometimes it feels I may never settle, but these dark thoughts rarely last long." He patted her hand reassuringly.

  Mother squeezed his shoulder. "It is difficult to wait for the one thing we long for most, but you will find that the waiting makes it all the sweeter when it is found. That is how it worked with your father and me. I have no doubt that you will have your turn too."

  He squeezed her hand, holding it between his own. "I hope with all of my heart that you are right."

  She tilted her head off to the side, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. "My boy, when have I ever been wrong?"

  The grin on her face softened the rebuke, and Richard had to admit that he could not think of one occasion where his mother had erred in judgment.

  His mother's faith lightened the cloud hanging over him and Richard decided, as he had done many times over the years, that while he could not improve his looks nor inherit a title or a fortune, he could control his manners. With Anne's marriage to Luc Mauvier came the appearance of some previously unknown members of the de Bourgh family. There was Miss Beatrice de Bourgh, Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s eldest sister, and her cousin, Sir Francis de Bourgh, recently arrived from the continent. Richard could pass the time in pleasant conversation with them.

  Also in their party was quite possibly the most beautiful woman Richard had ever had the privilege to see— Luc’s sister, Miss Adélaïde Mauvier, and Richard feared that he had already managed to offend her with a thoughtless remark he had made to Anne. It had been meant for his cousin’s ears only, but Miss Mauvier entered the room just as he voiced his careless opinion of the French. He would apologize at the first opportunity.

  The afternoon sun slowly began its descent in the sky, and though he had attempted to be near Miss Adélaïde so that he might beg her pardon, she had managed to avoid him. The game of cat and mouse they played only intensified Richard’s determination to set things right with the lady, but time was running out. The wedding party would not last much longer.

  Richard walked over toward Miss Beatrice, where Miss Mauvier stood, when Aunt Catherine announced that the carriages were ready whenever the guests in her home were ready to depart.

  Nobody in the room was surprised at Aunt Catherine’s not-so-subtle dismissal. Her social graces came with a limit and it had surprised Richard that she had insisted on having their relatives over for refreshment after the wedding ceremony.

  Richard walked in the direction of his family's carriage. He had come on his stallion, Charming, but he now hoped to enjoy the company of his mother and father during their return to town. He was still on leave, and he much preferred spending his nights in his own room instead of at the barracks.

  A stable boy brought Charming out to tie to the back of the Matlock carriage. Richard hastened to take the horse away from the boy before the miscreant beast stomped on his foot.

  Grabbing the reins, Richard kept his feet a safe distance. Looking into the soft, brown eyes of his horse, he said, “I know your tricks, old boy. You will not step on anyone today.”

  A voice from behind him said, "You are just the man I was searching for.”

  Richard turned to see Sir Francis. “I hate to impose, but I hope you might be able to help me. You see, I accompanied Miss Beatrice here in her carriage. Anne— I mean, Mrs. Mauvier, that is— she and Mr. Mauvier, knowing my desire to purchase a small estate at the seaside, have offered to take me to the coast in their carriage. I would love to travel with them, but cannot in good conscience send my cousin and Miss Mauvier home unaccompanied.”

  Richard could see where this was going. “Would it appease your conscience if I were to escort them home?” He was pleased to have the opportunity to set things right with Miss Mauvier. And he still knew very little about his great-aunt by marriage, Miss Beatrice.

  “I would not abandon them without ensuring their safe journey home with the companionship of a gentleman.”

  "Very well, Sir Francis. If the ladies in question have no objection to my company, I shall travel with them."

  Having overheard their conversation, Father joined them to say his farewell to Miss Beatrice.

  She was pleased to welcome Richard. "I think it hardly proper for two ladies to travel without the protection of a gentleman. Thank you for lending me your son, my lord.”

  Father shook his head and waved off her formality. “Please, I do not think such addresses necessary between relations. It is why my boys refer to Cathy as Aunt rather than Lady— though she would much prefer for them to use her title,” he said in a lower tone.

  “I do not doubt that. She is the reason I prefer to be called Miss Beatrice rather than Miss de Bourgh. I want no association with that woman. Now,” she said, looking to Richard, “it would bring me great pleasure for you to call me your aunt, if you would.” She leaned forward and whispered, “I have already determined that you shall be my favorite nephew.”

  Father and Sir Francis chortled at her audacity. Richard looked forward to knowing more about Aunt Beatrice. All he knew was that she was the eldest sister to Anne's long deceased father, Sir Lewis, and that she despised her sister-in-law, Aunt Catherine.

  The elderly woman was not all pepper and vinegar, however. The sharp look she had when in the presence of Aunt Catherine softened significantly when Anne was present… so much so that Richard suspected that Aunt Beatrice had been highly influential in Anne's recent development. Anne’s cheeks glowed a healthy pink, and her manners were self-assured. She was completely changed— for the better.

  Father left to join Mother as Sir Francis did with the newly-wed Mauviers. Richard assisted Aunt Beatrice into the carriage. Though she walked with a cane, she was surprisingly spry for her age. He hopped in behind her once she was seated. Two emerald green eyes regarded him from across the coach. Miss Mauvier. Displeased with his presence, she resembled a temperamental cat with her glowing eyes and extended claws piercing the reticule in her lap.

  Richard acknowledged her with a nod of his head. She inclined hers reluctantly, her eyes narrowing in dislike.

  Not one to be intimidated, Richard anticipated their carriage ride. It would be a glorious challenge.

  Chapter 2

  "So, Colonel Fitzwilliam, you have come to offer your protection to us poor, defenseless females. How thoughtful." Miss Mauvier crossed her arms and tilted her chin up.

  "While I do not know enough about your circumstances to confirm whether you are poor or not, Miss Mauvier, I am rather certain that you are not defenseless. I have seen too much of the world to discredit your sex so."

  "You have seen much trouble, have you? Tell me, Colonel, what have you seen?"

  Richard considered. While he had been fortunate in his assignments of late, he had spent some time on the continent. It was not something he chose to discuss, especially in the company of females.

  "I have seen more cruelty than a person should see in a lifetime, miss. It is not something I take pride in. Please, let us talk of more pleasant things. Your English is perfect, Miss Mauvier. I commend you."

  "As is yours,” she replied.

  Richard bit the insides of his cheeks to prevent himself from laughing. “Good point. I have met some foreigners who, though they have lived in England most of their lives, never lose their accent. Your brother, for instance.”

  “Luc is in a profession which allows that extravagance. It is seen as exotic and artistic, especially in a man. I have not had the same experience. Some people here do not take kindly to English spoken with the French accent."
Her arms remained crossed in front of her.

  "I had to learn French during my stay on the continent. While I can carry on a conversation in the language, I am ashamed to admit that I somehow manage to speak French with an English accent, and sound rather stupid, I think." In reality, Richard had learned Spanish and Portuguese as well, but he did not want to sound presumptuous. Miss Mauvier, no doubt, spoke as many languages as— or more than— he did. He laughed at his own expense, hoping to make her smile.

  It did not work.

  Aunt Beatrice said, "It is difficult to make some of the sounds. I, too, have never mastered it completely." She looked at Miss Mauvier, but she got no reaction.

  Richard was not used to being disliked. In town, his society was sought out as one who brought out the best in his peers and in their conversation. The haughty manner in which Miss Mauvier regarded him from across the enclosed space of the carriage raised his hackles.

  Looking intently at the lady, Richard said, "It appears, miss, that you are not happy to have me here. Now, the journey into London is long enough that I am impelled to ask what I might do to change your impression of me. I had every intention of apologizing to you for a thoughtless comment made in haste, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to do so sincerely."

  Miss Mauvier’s lips parted to respond, but she quickly shut them again. After a few moments of silence, Aunt Beatrice spoke, looking back and forth between the two. “What did you say?” she asked.