Chapter 19 #2
“Yes, yes.” The lady turned towards them and swayed. “I am just a trifle…dizzy…upon standing.”
“You must lie down until it passes,” suggested Elizabeth. “I have heard it said that a person suffering from giddiness should limit their intake of rich food and alcoholic drink, such as wine and eels in a cider cream sauce.”
If she is anything like Aunt Philips, who becomes embarrassingly outspoken while even slightly intoxicated, perhaps she will speak aloud of all her secrets—betrothals or misunderstandings.
Miss Margaret rushed to her elder sister’s side, Miss Althea close on her heels. The three then slowly made their way to the drawing room, where the afflicted one was eased down upon a chaise longue and a delicately embroidered cushion placed behind her head.
Miss Darcy and Miss Baker, who had started arranging cups upon the tea table, came over. “What has befallen you, dear?” asked Miss Hughes’s aunt.
Placing the back of a hand upon her forehead, Miss Wright closed her eyes. “I am much oppressed by a crowd of differing images.” Opening one eye, she startled upon seeing all the ladies encircling her. “A whole crowd of them!” Then she laughed herself into exhaustion.
Frowning in evident concern, Miss Darcy told them she would summon the housekeeper. “Mrs Carter will know what to do.”
Their young hostess was halfway across the room when Miss Wright sat up and cried, “No! Do not involve your housekeeper. Really, I am well.”
“If you are certain.” Miss Darcy looked dubious. “I shall just be over there at the tea table, should you change your mind.”
“I wish you would go to your bedchamber, Hannah,” said Miss Althea.
Taking a silk shawl from the back of the chaise longue, Miss Margaret placed it over her sister.
“Perhaps you will feel better in a moment or two. Remember, we are to play whist…if you are capable of standing, recalling which suit is trump, and not showing your hand. Do you understand what I am saying, Hannah?”
“Yes, yes!” Struggling to rise, Miss Wright pushed her sisters out of the way.
“Move aside. I will not allow Mr Darcy to see me lounging about in a stupor while there is a task to perform.” Stumbling over her feet and her words, she added, “I earlier promised his sister my assistance with pouring the coffee.”
With five ladies following close behind, ready to steady her, Miss Wright staggered to the tea table.
When the gentlemen came in, Elizabeth sought Mr Darcy’s eye and was pleased when he immediately looked for her and not Miss Wright.
Such gratification was a result of not only Elizabeth’s own vanity; she was equally glad he had not noticed Miss Wright’s state.
As much as she did not care for the woman, she wished to shield her from unwanted scrutiny and ensuing embarrassment.
While it was entirely acceptable for a member of the opposite sex to be completely foxed, it was a scandalous thing for a lady to be even slightly intoxicated.
The other ladies must have felt the same, for they had crowded round the table where Miss Darcy was making tea.
None of them trusted Miss Wright, in her condition, with a hot beverage, so Miss Baker volunteered to pour the coffee.
The tipsy one was tasked with arranging fruit and biscuits upon plates, which she did in a haphazard manner.
And so, in close confederacy, the women propped her up when Miss Wright swayed, hushed her when she became boisterous, roused her when she became drowsy, and soothed her when she seemed ready to weep.
Upon their father’s approach, Misses Margaret and Althea moved in front of their elder sister, concealing her. “Papa,” said his youngest daughter, “have a seat, and I shall bring you a nice cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits.”
As for Mr Darcy, he was in another part of the room, speaking with Mr Baker.
Elizabeth followed him with her eyes and envied Miss Hughes’s uncle for having the gentleman’s undivided attention.
Then she grew angry with herself for being absurd.
Why must I keep reminding myself that I am not best pleased with him?
Following the serving of refreshments and once the tables were placed, their host unenthusiastically said, “Shall we play cards now?”
Elizabeth, Miss Darcy, Miss Hughes, and Miss Althea moved with dignified alacrity to the nearest table.
Mr Baker and Mr Wright went to another to play piquet for higher stakes, although a sensible limit had been set by the master of the house.
That left Mr Darcy and Miss Baker with the dubious honour of partnering against the two eldest Miss Wrights.
As Elizabeth watched everyone taking their places, she thought it highly probable that the whist hands played by Miss Wright would be superlatively stupid ones.
A number of overheard utterances from that table throughout the night proved her prophetic, and one such was particularly perplexing.
“Whose turn is it? I have dismembered.” Miss Wright then dissolved into a paroxysm of laughter before wailing, “I have been hoisted by my own petard!”
Mr Darcy glared at her from across their table. “Do you mean to say that a nefarious plan of your own rebounded upon you?”
“Several!” Nodding, she squinted at him. “That maid…Molly? She…” Miss Wright mumbled something unintelligible about saffron’s sedative properties. Then, gaining her feet, she swayed and pointed at Elizabeth. “I am in my cups,” she mumbled, “because you somehow substituted your dessert for mine.”
Miss Darcy rang for the housekeeper.
“Hush, sister,” pleaded Miss Margaret, moving to Miss Wright’s side. She looked to her father for assistance, but he and Mr Baker were far across the room, engrossed in their wagering.
“My hands, Meg! Why do they tingle so?” Miss Wright’s consternation was evident as she struggled to stay upright. “My feet. I cannot feel my feet!” She held onto her head. “So dizzy. So sleepy!”
Finally aware of the commotion, Mr Wright rose from his chair so suddenly that it toppled.
“Hannah is obviously feeling poorly. Please excuse us.” Miss Margaret took Miss Wright by the arm and steered her towards the door.
Miss Wright broke free and stumbled back to Mr Darcy. Becoming too familiar with his person, she took his hand in hers. “Tell her, sir. Tell Miss Bennet that we have a secret understanding.”
Gently, Mr Darcy freed his hand from hers. “There is no secret understanding between us, madam, and I fear you are quite unwell.”
There is the ultimate validation! Closing her eyes, Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief and covered her mouth to conceal a smile.
Mr Wright intervened, pulling his eldest away from Mr Darcy.
“Mark my words, sir, I shall get to the bottom of this secret understanding that you have with Hannah.” While helping Miss Margaret escort her sister out of the room, he turned and added, “My dearest girl is unaccustomed to consuming alcohol. I fear you served her too much of your fine wine with dinner, and I suspect you had an ulterior motive for doing so. Come along now, Thea.”
Mr Darcy simply shook his head in obvious disgust.
Miss Althea mouthed the word ‘sorry’ to Miss Darcy. Then, head bowed, she followed her family out of the drawing room.
The housekeeper arrived, listened to Miss Darcy’s quiet instructions, then silently slipped away.
Once Mrs Carter had gone, Mr Darcy stepped up next to his sister. “Mr Baker, ladies, please accept our apologies for all that pother. Will you stay, please, while I attend to the matter?”
After consulting with his sister, Mr Baker said, “I thank you, sir, but, unless there is aught we may do for you, I think it best that we take our leave. If you would, please be so kind as to call for our carriage.”
“A moment, if you will, Mr Baker,” begged Elizabeth. “Miss Darcy, may we please have a private word?”