Music Monday: We Three Kings (The Hound + The Fox feat. Tim Foust)

Chapter 1

The moon stood sentry in the sky and the dark of night circled around Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam as he arched his back and bent to one side and then the other before making himself somewhat comfortable against Netherfield’s stony exterior wall. The garden might have been a better place to set up for his observation of the night sky, but the ground was wet. Therefore, he was attempting to make himself comfortable on the terrace outside the library, since no one was in the library at present, and that meant that no candlelight would mar his watch. The few clouds that were drifting on the late December night’s breeze were the only unmanageable detractions.

The door to his right cracked open and all the stretching and breathing Richard had done to relax vanished as his muscles readied themselves to spring into action. This was why he needed to retire to the country. Being always at the ready to ward off an attack was bothersome on his best days and downright unbearable on all the others.

His breath puffed out in a small cloud of mist. He was safe. It was only his cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and not his host’s youngest sister.

“Would not a chair near a fire be more comfortable?” Darcy asked as he sat down next to Richard. “The stone is dreadfully cold. And the wind is –”

“From the north and moving like a horse at the end of a long day of travel.”

“I was going to say biting.”

“It is not so bad once one gets used to it – or if one is properly prepared to be out in it.” He glanced at Darcy who had, at least, added a great coat to his evening attire before coming outside. “I have slept on worse. You should have brought a blanket – a good heavy one.”

“I will keep that in mind for next time,” Darcy assured him.

“Have the Bennets gone home?” Richard was certain they had, or Darcy would not be out here with him. He would be inside with his betrothed, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy nodded.

“And the others?”

“Everyone has gone.” Darcy’s lips twitched with amusement. “Except for Miss Bingley. She is still here and likely to come looking for you.”

“She can look for me, but I refuse to be found by the likes of her.” Ever since Darcy and Elizabeth had become betrothed, Caroline Bingley had made every attempt to charm Richard into considering her as his future mate. However, that was not going to happen. For, what he wanted and what Miss Bingley was were diametrically opposed. She was shops and soirees. He wanted a hearth and a good book – or a night sky and a blanket.

“She is an heiress,” Darcy said, “though perhaps not so wealthy an heiress as you have always claimed you wanted.”

Richard blew out a breath. “I do not want an heiress.”

He had at one time. But that was before he had spent many long, dreary hours covered in mud, listening to men moan in agony and contemplating what was truly valuable in life. Oh, he had come home from the continent and carried on with his bluster about wishing to live a life of luxury. However, in his heart, it no longer felt right, and the façade was becoming too heavy to carry.

Richard’s declaration was met by silence. He knew he could have answered the question his cousin was almost assuredly thinking, but he chose not to do so. If Darcy wanted to know Richard’s reasons for his change in requirements for a bride, he was going to have to either ask what they were directly or ferret them out for himself through observation. If Richard knew his cousin as he thought he did, a question or two would be forthcoming – just as soon as Darcy determined if he should ask.

“The moon is certainly bright tonight,” Richard said to break the silence.

“It will be full soon.”

“In a couple of days, I would say.” Richard had come to appreciate a full moon because when the moon was at its brightest, it was easier to see an ambush coming. However, it also made it more challenging to see the few stars the clouds were not concealing, but he could deal with that as it was a small price to pay for help in fleeing the grasp of a possible captor, which, in this case, was Miss Bingley.

Darcy made a noise of agreement as he nodded. Then, the space between them fell silent for another minute.

“Why do you not want to marry an heiress?”

Ah, there it was. The question Richard was expecting Darcy to ask…

[from Moonlight, Mistletoe, and Mary]