Page 7 of In the Eyes of Lord Lingley

Ligley started in surprise, having not given the wager any thought at all. “You placed no restrictions on the bet,” he replied, flicking an invisible speck of lint from his shoulder. “It is not my fault that you were so narrowminded.”

“Never thought you would sacrifice yourself for that antidote!” Fitzwilliam snarled. “I will not pay until you have actually married her! It would be just like you to sneak off in the night!”

“That is my honor and my future wife you are speaking of,” Lingley growled, stepping close. “Watch your words.”

They glared at one-another until the Colonel finally stepped back and turned to stomp from the room, calling for his horse. Lingley bowed to the room in a general farewell and did the same. Hopefully Fitzwilliam would calm down on his ride back to Netherfield. It would be an uncomfortable stay otherwise. They had planned to be in Hertfordshire for two weeks entirely to enjoy the shooting. Bingley was pleased to offer his hospitality, despite the estate belonging to the earldom. Darcy had recommended his friend to Lingley, who had done the same to his father, allowing the younger man to lease the estate and practice his management skills. At least the Hursts were to leave the next morning— Mrs. Hursts and Miss Bingley were determined to return to London.

No one was about when he arrived and Nichols informed him that the others had all requested trays for dinner so he did the same, almost giddy with relief that he would not have to spend an interminable time listening to the self-absorbed monologues of Miss Bingley and her equally tedious sister. He was surprised that he did not feel any apprehension over his actions. If anything, he would say that he was all anticipation to take his May and leave all the dreadful neighbors and ghastly family members to crush some other person’s soul. Should she have ever wished to remain close to her family, that day’s contretemps put paid to any chance that he would have allowed it. Likely he would never even allow her to exchange correspondence with them; he could not imagine Mrs. Bennet would be any kinder in her letters than she was in person. How his darling May survived such an upbringing he did not wish to contemplate. Her wellbeing would be his responsibility in the future, and he was determined to teach her that her worth was not limited to her parent’s derogatory opinions. It would begin tomorrow. He had plans to shock the gossiping hell-wives silent.

∞∞∞

Chapter 5

Lingley woke the next morning with the same feeling of serenity which he had had the day before. He waited for the panic to come as he was shaved and dressed by his man, but it never came. It felt as if his destiny had found him at last. What his parents would think when he informed them of his betrothal he did not dare contemplate… perhaps he would not inform them until he was married and they had no choice but to accept his decision, though even if he wrote right then, their reply would not reach him before the wedding as they were in Spain. Darcy was a lucky sot! Not one person in his life truly held the power to keep him from his destiny.

As he left his room, the Colonel was on his way down and waited for him. He looked a bit sheepish in the morning light but held his peace until they arrived at the breakfast room and were able to speak privately as they dined on rashers of bacon, eggs, and delightfully flakey pastries. He waited until the Colonel had poured at least a liter of coffee down his throat before addressing him at all.

“I wish to explain my engagement, Fitzwilliam,” he began between bites. “I did not make that bet expecting to circumvent you in such a manner, but I could not listen to her family belittle her for another moment, and when the situation arose, I turned it to my benefit. I will not hold you to the bet.”

“No, no, I was a bit soused and did not react as a gentleman,” the Colonel winced. “A bet is a bet. Besides, you are the one who must marry the chit to win it. I can not believe that you are serious. Can you imagine the talk when you present her to the Ton? They would eat her alive. T’would be kinder to cut her loose now than to feed her to the sharks.”

Lingley narrowed his eyes as he thought. The Colonel’s words, while distasteful, were not wrong. “Perhaps an extended wedding trip is in order. She will need time to become used to me and her new station, as well as to combat all the damage her family has done over the years.”

“It would not surprise me if her father asked for a single hen, too old to lay,” Fitzwilliam snorted. “Those people are horrors. I do not know what Darcy was thinking.”

“I cannot fathom…” he replied with a wry grin, popping a bit of pastry into his mouth.

“Likely that he will never acknowledge them again,” he laughed.

“Oh, no. I believe that Mrs. Darcy was very clear on that matter. Her family was to be treated with respect.”

“Respect!” he nearly choked on his eggs. “What sort of respect does she think they deserve? For birthing a litter of practically feral females? Darcy told me how the eldest two spent much time in the care of their relatives in London. They must be admirable people, for they are the only two with even remotely acceptable manners.”

Lingley let the insult rest. “You mentioned chickens— is all this cow business truly of such consequence for the ladies?”

“Not so much in London, I suppose,” Fitzwilliam pondered for a moment. “I think it is more that it is not often spoken of with the gentlemen. Your mother is from Spain, is she not?” Lingley agreed that it was so. “Well, that is likely why you are unfamiliar with the practice. I have heard nothing of it on the continent. I wonder if your mother was looked down upon when your father brought her to England.”

Lingley laughed. “Who looks down upon royalty? Even if she was not in line for the throne. Princess Rosamond De la Vega was no one’s whipping board. She had them all eating out of her hand within a sen’night. Her fabulous wealth and continental fashions certainly helped.”

“That is true. I have not heard that the royals here participate in the practice either. Likely it would skew the numbers astronomically. Can you imagine a princess worth only two or three cows?”

“Is that the usual price of a decent wife on this island? What is the cost of a superior one? Four or Five?”

“Would Darcy pay any less?” Fitzwilliam snorted and pushed away from the table. “You know… the Bennet stable was practically empty when I fetched my horse yestereve. Two sway-backed carriage horses they likely use in the fields and two equally ancient riding horses which I doubt have been beyond a walk in a decade. If you wish to shock, you should acquire some new cattle for the estate. It is obvious that Mr. Bennet shall not bother.”

“An excellent idea, thank you,” he grinned, rising as well. “Will you be accompanying me to the barter?”

He snorted and slapped him on the back. “I would not miss it for the world!”

They called for their horses and donned their beavers and riding gloves while they waited. When the Colonel’s fractious mount rounded the corner of the house, Lingley rolled his eyes at the look of pride on the man’s face. His Andalusian was much better behaved. The beautiful silvery white horse with its signature dark mane and forelocks drew the eye of all the grooms who watched him with wonder, having never seen a true Spanish horse before.

The Colonel whistled in awe and stepped forward to look him over. The magnificent beast politely lifted his feet for the man and allowed him to stroke his velvety face. “What a beauty!” he cried.

“Ferdinand, this is Colonel Fitzwilliam. Colonel, my horse, King Ferdinand.”

There was a shout of laughter from the man. “Did your horse just bow to me, Lingley?”

“Of course,” he replied, stepping up and swinging into the saddle. “Does your beast not know how to make a proper greeting?”