Chances Come, Ney Mitch [snow like ashes series TXT] 📗

“You all may go for now, and take a beautiful rest,” he ordered. “We shall call you again if you are needed.”

The servants looked to Darcy, for usually it was him who gave such an order. Darcy allowed it to pass and the servants all left. Once they were gone, Richard stopped cutting his ham and then his eyes took on a conspiratorial hue.

“So, now that I have mentioned the traditional things that we usually talk about, I feel that I have stalled long enough. Come now, cousin, tell me the real reason that you were late in seeing me.”

Darcy could feel himself relax. “Oh, so that whole time, you were just stalling until we could have a moment alone.”

“I am always keen to talk about my brother but talking about my misfortunes on being a second son has been spoken of to death and recited so much that I could speak it in my sleep. Now, are you afraid to confide in me?”

“I am not…well, it is complicated.”

“And there is that word again. Nothing can be so complicated if it has to be spoken about.”

“It is simply that… I feel embarrassed now.”

“Did you fall down in public?”

“No. Thank goodness. The world can forgive bad manners, slander and even murder, but they would never forgive me for that.”

“Too right. Always try to avoid falling down in public. It is the eighth deadly sin. It would have made it into the top seven, but pride managed to squeeze its way in there, just under the bar.”

“Very well, here it is.”

Richard sat there, waiting for the explanation that Darcy found hard to say.

Darcy opened his mouth and then closed it again. Next, he fiddled with his fork.

“If it will help you to confess,” Richard added, “then here is a past shame of mine. One time, I accidentally kissed a man.”

Darcy dropped his fork.

“What!”

Richard looked down at his food, red in the face.

“I stress the word accident,” he pressed, “and I mean accident in every sense of the word.”

“How did that happen?”

“I was engaged in a bit of foolishness and revelry with my soldiers. We had gotten deep into the cups, I was heavily inebriated, one of them was dressed up as a woman, out of fun, and you can imagine the rest. Let us leave it there. The next day, we all woke up with splitting headaches, and all were content to forget the events of the previous night.”

Darcy ran his hands over his lips and then chuckled.

“Feel more apt to share now?” his cousin suggested.

“Yes, I suppose I am. I was late because, actually, I think… that I am in love.”

Richard’s fork landed on the table. Unfortunately, at the angle that it fell, it bounced and then clanged onto the floor. Darcy watched the fork’s progress.

“Well, that was a unique reaction,” Darcy noted.

“Can you repeat what you just said?” Richard asked.

“I said that I am in love.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“You are not in jest?”

“No. Why are you surprised by this?”

“Who would not be?”

“You kissed a man, for the love of god!”

“That is not nearly as surprising as news like this!”

Darcy leaned back in his chair.

“Perhaps you have a point.”

After getting over his initial shock, Richard began to find his way back to his usually sparkling demeanor.

“Who is the lucky woman? And when am I to offer you happiness?”

“You can offer me no congratulations. First, I am not certain that she loves me in return. In truth, there was a time where she despised me.”

“Hatred can lead to love, actually. You know not, how oft I have seen, where one emotion would glide into the next one. Just be happy that she got your disdain for you out of the way before you married. This way, she is less likely to hate you after you are married. She got all of her animosity out of the way before the nuptials.”

“Richard, do be serious.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Forgive me; it is merely so amusing. For you to be in the same predicament that we mortal men so often find ourselves in. Do not be so forlorn about it. Cherish it. To be tossed in love is good for us humans, every now and again. It gives us a sort of distinction amongst our friends and acquaintances.”

“In truth, cherishing it was the hardest thing. For so long, it felt like the worst thing in the world!”

“Why would it? What is so very terrible about being in love?”

“Everything,” Darcy remarked. “Truly, Richard, what is worse than the total terror and shock of being in love?”

His cousin thought about it and then he saw the truth in it.

“Oh, indeed,” he agreed, “total terror.”

“Yes. I have been in that state for months, and you know not how often I wished to have never met her. Love leads to being confused, insecure and always unravelling. I felt like I was always falling down a hill, internally. Being near her gave me no peace. Being away from her gave me no peace.”

“That was the state you have been in?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then I am so very sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because that is true love. When it tears at your heart to be near or away from them, it means that you feel so deeply, it breaks you. That is the most fundamental yet frightening sort of love.”

“Why?”

“Because it is the sort of love that can influence you into behaving in the oddest of ways.”

“That is precisely what this love has done to me and for me. I have thus ended any care or consideration for the wealth or status of the woman who I choose to marry now. She could come from the most unfortunate family in Britain, and I would not care… as long as it was her that I chose.”

“You care not for rank? Ah, that is such a surprise. And something that I still envy you for. To be able to marry without care of the woman being with or without a dowry. But, judging by the way that