Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Intermittent correspondence came from Haddon Court over the next few weeks.
The viscount’s health had declined to a point where all that could be done was pray for a painless departure from this world, and the earl wrote in laboured script of his enormous distress.
Darcy replied immediately, offering to ride over at once, but to his surprise, his uncle wrote back to decline his assistance, alluding to Fitzwilliam’s presence being a source of comfort.
Sensing that his uncle and cousin needed time together to heal the rifts that their bickering had caused over the years, Darcy remained at Pemberley, watching over his sister and, by extension, Miss Bennet.
Where possible, he made sure he read his uncle’s letters out of Georgiana’s view.
Mrs Reynolds had mentioned that his sister had been found sleeping on the floor in her room, and worried that her sleep disturbances were worsening, he took great pains to share as little news as he could with her.
In Fitzwilliam’s notes to Georgiana, his cousin had spoken affectionately of his father and mentioned little of his brother, suggesting to Darcy that their cousin was shielding her from the realities of the viscount’s suffering.
Fitzwilliam would ask after Miss Bennet, and he pressed upon both Darcy and Georgiana to share how anxious he was to see her again.
When Georgiana disclosed this in front of them all, an eager gleam in her eye suggesting that Fitzwilliam’s interest in Miss Bennet could only be the happiest of news, Darcy could not share her joy.
No matter the size of Miss Bennet’s dowry, Lord Matlock would not be content unless his son married a woman of noble lineage.
All these comments gave a hope to Miss Bennet that Fitzwilliam could never commit to, not unless he went against his father’s wishes.
Darcy noted how beautifully Miss Bennet blossomed when she learnt of Fitzwilliam’s compliments, and he sensed, with a stab of foreboding, that some difficult conversations lay ahead if she were to hear of the earl’s matrimonial plans for his remaining son.
The best course of action would be for Miss Bennet and her aunt to leave soon.
Darcy would not ask them to go, for that would be unforgivably rude, but Lady Acaster’s business in Derbyshire was drawing to a close, meaning that there was no more reason for them to stay.
But, before Miss Bennet’s fainting episode and the tragic news regarding their eldest cousin, Darcy had considered Georgiana to be happier and healthier than he had ever known her to be, and all this was undoubtedly Miss Bennet’s influence.
He debated whether he should ask the ladies to stay—even though it meant Miss Bennet would stand a greater chance of becoming more attached to Fitzwilliam.
Sitting at his desk, alone in his study, Darcy groaned.
A man of action, he detested this indecision—either way, a woman whose happiness he valued would be hurt.
Rising from his chair, Darcy went to the window.
From it, he saw Miss Bennet, Lady Acaster, and Georgiana.
Too far away to hear their words, he deduced they were practising a dance.
Miss Bennet and her aunt were taking turns at being the man and demonstrating to his sister the steps she should take.
Now it was Miss Bennet’s turn to partner his sister.
They did very well, despite Georgiana being several inches taller than her friend.
Miss Bennet demonstrated a turn, but her dress caught on a button on Georgiana’s gown, taking her by surprise.
Her foot slipped under her, and she toppled over onto the grass.
Panic caught in Darcy’s throat but was instantly eased by the sight of her laughing helplessly on the lawn, her palms covering her face.
Georgiana reached out her hand to help Miss Bennet to her feet, but Miss Bennet simply shook her head and beckoned for his sister to join her.
To his amazement, Georgiana acquiesced without hesitation, her shoulders shaking as she lay next to her friend on the grass.
Even though he was not part of their group, Darcy could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips.
Miss Bennet is truly enchanting. His silent study felt unexpectedly oppressive; the lush greenery was suddenly a great deal more inviting.
Reaching for his coat, he rose from his desk. His work could wait.
Brushing the dried grass from her person, Elizabeth stretched out her other hand to help Georgiana up from the ground.
Her friend’s golden hair had worked loose, tumbling down her shoulders in ringlets, giving her the appearance of a woodland fairy.
Over Georgiana’s shoulder, she saw Mr Darcy, striding towards them in bold, decisive steps.
Clearly, he had seen their silliness, and Elizabeth braced herself for whatever admonishment was sure to come.
She had seen a softer, more yielding side of Mr Darcy than she had ever suspected, it was true, but it did not follow that he would wish his sister to be playing about in the grass like a hoydenish child.
To Elizabeth’s utter astonishment, Mr Darcy stopped before them, grinning broadly. “There appears to be a London fashion that is unfamiliar to me. Tell me, what is the name of this new dance that requires all its partners to roll about on the floor?”
“It is from Spain,” Elizabeth replied quickly, concealing her embarrassment with a joke. “It is called the Andalusian Fall. I am not surprised you are unfamiliar with the step—few people perform it as proficiently as I.”
To her amazement, Mr Darcy laughed, not just a polite, restrained chuckle but a deep, unbridled joy that seemed to spring from the depths of his chest. If Elizabeth were not witnessing it with her own eyes, she would have never believed it.
Momentarily lost for words, she was grateful when Lady Acaster asked, “Are you being so bold as to tease my niece for her clumsiness?”
“No, indeed, madam. I would not dare.” Deep dimples flashed in Mr Darcy’s cheeks. “Miss Bennet executed the Andalusian Fall to perfection.”
He addressed Georgiana. “What are you trying to learn?”
“I am attempting to remember the difference between an allemande turn and an allemande pass.”
“Let me be of assistance.” Gently, he walked his sister through the different components of each step, speaking with such soft patience that she soon mastered the rudiments, albeit at a slower pace.
Eventually Georgiana stepped back. “Perhaps you and Miss Bennet could show me what they are meant to look like at the proper speed?”
Mr Darcy looked enquiringly at Elizabeth, his hesitation suggesting that he did not want her to feel under any obligation. Still reeling from the sight of his unguarded laughter, she began to politely refuse but was stopped by her aunt.
“A capital plan,” Lady Acaster called out. “For how else will Miss Darcy learn unless she is shown? I would gladly volunteer to dance with such a good-looking partner, but a physician once said my poor knees are in danger of becoming rheumatic. I fear I might regret the consequences.”
“Your poor knees indeed,” murmured Elizabeth, thinking of how many times she had seen her aunt perform these very same manoeuvres at Almack’s.
To Mr Darcy she gave a nod of acceptance before taking her position opposite him. Addressing Georgiana, she said, “Now you must imagine that you are in a ballroom.” She gestured towards Mr Darcy. “You have just accepted a dance with a gentleman of your acquaintance.”
“A handsome gentleman,” interjected Lady Acaster.
Elizabeth’s cheeks grew warm, and she glanced at Mr Darcy, who seemed unperturbed by her aunt’s impudence.
“I generally prefer dashing,” he said, with an impressively straight face.
Elizabeth bit her lip to contain her laughter. “You have just accepted a dance with a gentleman of your acquaintance who has the good fortune to be considered handsome and dashing—”
“Do not forget witty.” Mr Darcy had a glimmer of mischief in his eye.
Elizabeth valiantly kept her composure. “I also neglected to mention humble.” Whilst still in front of him, she turned her head towards her aunt and Georgiana. “This is an excellent point in the dance to engage in conversation.”
“What should one talk of?” A deep crease formed in Georgiana’s forehead, and Elizabeth recalled how shy her friend could be in the presence of those with whom she was not closely acquainted.
“You may wish to make some slight observation regarding the dance. Perhaps you might comment on the size of the room or the number of couples,” she advised. She glanced at Mr Darcy, whose eyes were firmly on her. “If you ask him nicely, your brother might offer a demonstration of how it is done.”
“I would not dare! There is nothing my brother hates more than inconsequential chit-chat—he told me so himself.”
Elizabeth raised a quizzical brow. “Your sister would have me believe that you prefer to dance in silence.”
Mr Darcy’s gaze drifted to Georgiana and Lady Acaster then back to Elizabeth. “I have not the talent, as some people possess, of conversing easily with those I do not know well.”
“How do you intend to become better acquainted with a person if you do not talk to them?”
Mr Darcy’s lips twitched. “Are you suggesting that I should take the trouble to practise?”
“There is no time like the present. Let us begin our dance.”
They exchanged a bow and a curtsey. Mr Darcy made a great show of examining the gardens and the hills beyond. With a serious face, he said, “Have you ever known a ballroom so spacious, Miss Bennet?”
“No, indeed, I have only ever danced in places with walls, a hard floor, and a ceiling.”
“How miserable for you.” He drew closer, slipping his hand under the crook of her arm, reaching out to hold her hand behind her back. His grip was strong but gentle. “I have it on good authority that there can be no better surface to perform the Andalusian Fall than grass.”
Elizabeth stared at him. Who is this teasing man, so far removed from the disapproving Mr Darcy of my youth?
“You are quite correct. I shall endeavour to only ever dance on lawns henceforth.” Hands together, they turned, their bodies pressed close.
They withdrew from each other, only to join again to repeat the step in the opposite direction.
“May I ask your opinion of the other couples?”
His eyes drifted to a distant field, and he replied soberly, “Their conversation wants for variety. However, this lack of discourse must surely be attributed to my own inexperience—I have never attended a ball with quite so many sheep.”
Laughter erupted from Elizabeth, causing her to lose her place.
She stopped abruptly, colliding heavily with Mr Darcy.
Her hands steadied her upon his forearms, his hands briefly upon her waist. Warm undertones of citrus and woodsmoke flooded her senses.
Embarrassed, she stepped back; Mr Darcy dropped his arms to his sides as though he had been burnt.
“Forgive me,” Elizabeth said breathlessly, glancing over her shoulder at her aunt and Georgiana, whose faces wore identical bemused expressions. “I may not be the best teacher after all.”
“The fault is mine,” Mr Darcy’s voice rumbled.
She turned back to face him, his previous levity replaced with a quiet earnestness.
“My comment about the other partners was ridiculous, especially when I was aware of no one else but you.” He bowed stiffly to Elizabeth and then to the other women, muttering about a need to return to his letter writing.
Scarcely waiting for their response, he departed as abruptly as he had arrived, leaving Elizabeth in a state of such bewilderment that she struggled to attend her companions’ conversation for the rest of the morning.