Read Online Twixt Two Equal Armies by Gail McEwen, Tina Moncton - Free Book Online Page A

by his unexpected arrival and he took in his leisurely pursuit before he entered, walking to the mantelpiece and assuming a nonchalant pose.
    “Darcy,” he said in a flat voice. “What are you doing here?”
    With the studied arrogance of complete self-assurance, Darcy carefully closed his book on his lap, ready to resume his reading in just a few minutes.
    “I came to see you.”
    Darcy let his eyes linger on his friend, taking in every detail of him, but Baugham stared at the fire, shifted his pose and picked up a poker. He did not look at his unexpected guest beyond that quick initial glance.
    “Well, you’re very lucky then,” he dryly said. “I’ve been gone for three days.”
    “I know,” Darcy said calmly.
    The air between the two men was heavy. Baugham felt an inexplicable resentment upon being served with the exact behaviour he so frequently exercised towards his friend. To arrive unannounced and unexpectedly at any of Darcy’s establishments was his prerogative. It was an unspoken means of equalising the power balance between himself and his fastidious, but rich and self-sufficient friend. Darcy had always accepted this as Baugham’s privilege and never complained or questioned; there were other ways to keep his unpredictable and mercurial friend from besting him. Now the tables were turned and Baugham was annoyed by Darcy’s presumption and perceived arrogance. The careful balance between them was slightly off-centre because of it.
    They circled around each other without moving, trying to find a balance. Baugham offered Darcy a whiskey; Darcy complemented him on the taste. Baugham asked about his family; Darcy thanked him and asked about the hunting. Thus they continued for a while, letting the immediate dust settle between them.
    “So,” Baugham finally said. “Now you have seen me, what next?”
    Darcy looked at him for a while.
    “Dinner, I should think,” he said at length. “If you’re so inclined.”
    “Oh, I think so, however sore and tired I am. I will go wash; Mrs McLaughlin will be displeased enough as it is, thanks to you. I see you’ve made yourself quite at home already, so if you’ll excuse me . . . ” Baugham’s words tapered off as he left the library.
    Darcy gave a crooked smile and waved an impatient hand at his back. When he heard the door close, he found himself abandoning any thoughts on his awkward arrival and his host’s wounded sensibilities, instead pondering whether it would be too soon to inquire about neighbours and inhabitants of near-by villages as part of the upcoming dinner conversation.
    T HE GIRLS WALKED PAST THE trees dotted with the chaotic lumps of black crows’ nests. The inhabitants screeched as they passed and some spread their dark wings against the blue sky and flew away.
    “They remind me of what it was like to walk into Meryton after the news of Lydia’s elopement,” Elizabeth said dryly. “So many hurrying off to spread their screeching opinions on the state of our nest, even though theirs were hardly models of propriety themselves.”
    “You must have been very angry,” Holly said. “I mean, knowing what he was.”
    “Yes. Angry. Ashamed. Desperate. Sad.”
    They had set out that drizzly morning with baskets to scour the countryside for wild herbs and mushrooms before the frost set in — and to talk. They had walked a fair way before either said anything, but when she finally spoke, Elizabeth told her all about that terrible time of worry and confusion, when they did not know where Lydia was, or with whom, what her plans were or if she was safe or even alive.
    Holly stole a look at Elizabeth walking slowly beside her. “Were you perhaps also sad for yourself?”
    “Of course I was sad for myself,” Elizabeth answered with a short laugh. “If you had been at Longbourn during that time, you would not need to ask such a question. Who would not be sad to cut short a pleasant holiday in Derbyshire and return to such a scene?” She