Chapter 3
VANITY AND PRIDE
What a beautiful spring day it turned out to be.
Just as Lady Vanessa had foretold, the landed gentry, along with their families, travelled from miles away to enjoy the day’s racing contests.
The finale was a high-stakes challenge between two gentlemen who prided themselves as owners of the fastest bays in the county, one being Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and the other being Sir Robert Scott.
The event was meant to put an end to speculations once and for all.
Although Elizabeth enjoyed the contest, she could not boast of having any particular interest in the outcome.
The same could not be said of the rest of the spectators.
The close finish provided the means of a spirited debate amongst Lady Vanessa and her immediate circle.
In her haste to put as much distance between Lady Vanessa and her society friends, who were too much like her ladyship for Elizabeth’s comfort, and seize a moment of quiet solitude while she could, Elizabeth walked right past Mr. Darcy without acknowledging him.
“Miss Bennet.”
She cringed. Heavens, pray he does not think I came this way for the purpose of putting myself in his path. She halted her steps, turned about, and faced him. “Mr. Darcy.”
“May I have a word with you?”
Despite her aunt’s glowing commendations, Elizabeth proceeded cautiously, still annoyed by the manner of her initial acquaintance with the gentleman and what she supposed was mocking on his part, especially now as she recalled his derisive manner when he spoke of her choice of reading material.
She walked to where he stood and curtsied. “Congratulations, Mr. Darcy.”
He bowed slightly. “I thank you, according to the common mode of discourse in such situations as this. However, I take no credit other than that of the proud owner of one of the finest bays in the land.”
Elizabeth regarded him with an arched smile. “How very like you, sir. The perfect amount of humility cloaked in haughtiness.”
A tall, handsome gentleman, blessed with long dark hair and amazing dark eyes, joined them. Having overheard Elizabeth’s retort, he playfully slapped Darcy on his back. “That is my friend Darcy, to be sure.” He turned to Darcy. “Am I to be introduced?”
Mr. Darcy nodded in acquiescence. “Miss Bennet, allow me to introduce Lord Andrew Holland, future Earl of Bosley. This is Miss Bennet, my lord. She hails from—” His voice trailed off as he looked expectantly at Elizabeth.
“Hertfordshire, my lord,” she said, proffering her hand.
He took Elizabeth’s hand and raised it to his lips. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with mirth. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Darcy directed his attention to his approaching groom and then stepped away to confer with him while Elizabeth and Lord Holland continued speaking.
“My aunt will be very disappointed to learn that I have made your acquaintance, my lord, for she speaks very highly of you. She wished to have the honour of introducing us.”
His blank expression urged Elizabeth on. “Lady Vanessa Barrett.”
Recognition graced his countenance. “Lady Barrett is my aunt as well. Her late husband and my mother were brother and sister.” He swept his eyes over Elizabeth.
“So you are the young woman of whom Lady Vanessa has spoken so highly. You will forgive me for not realising the connection sooner, I pray. I agree. She will be disappointed, and she is not one who brokers disappointment well. Perhaps we might pretend this meeting never took place, and then her hopes will not have suffered.”
“How very thoughtful of you to recommend we deceive her ladyship under the guise of appeasing her, my lord.”
The dashing viscount clutched his hand over his heart. “I am wounded, Miss Bennet.”
Darcy resumed his place by his friend’s side and placed his hand on Lord Holland’s shoulder.
“Fear not, my friend, for whatever charge Miss Bennet has levelled upon you merely was intended to divert you. I have a strong suspicion that the young lady finds great enjoyment in professing opinions that, in fact, are not her own, solely for sport.”
Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself.
“Now, it is my turn to be wounded. Mr. Darcy has attempted to sketch my character in a manner that would have one believe I am harsh and unfeeling when nothing can be further from the truth, and here in a part of the world where so little is known about me that I hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit.”
Darcy smiled and said, “On the contrary, Miss Bennet. I, for one, find your manner entirely refreshing, and I find your taste in books equally so.”
A bubbly young woman approached them, rounding out their party.
Judging by the young lady’s decidedly unguarded manner, Elizabeth could only suppose she was an intimate acquaintance of the viscount’s.
She swatted him with her fan. “Lord Holland, you will forgive me, but I am most anxious for the pleasure of your company.” He accepted her proffered hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.
“Miss Lancaster, it is always a pleasure to see you. Have you met my friends?”
Her demeanour told him she had not. “Then might I have the honour? First, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire. Darcy, Miss Lancaster.” Darcy bowed and she curtsied. “Secondly, meet Miss Bennet of Hertfordshire.”
The ladies greeted each other cordially.
Miss Lancaster was no more than one or two and twenty; her face was pretty, her figure tall and striking, and her manner graceful.
“Must we be so formal, Miss Bennet? You may call me Miss Lucy or Lucy if you truly prefer to part with the formalities. What might I call you?”
“My given name is Elizabeth Bennet.”
“So, you hail from Hertfordshire, do you?” She touched her hand to her head.
“Are you Lady Vanessa’s niece? Well of course you are!
Her ladyship has spoken to my mother of very little since she learned you would be coming for a visit.
” She outstretched her arms. “Welcome to Bosley.” Closing them, she placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm.
“Now we absolutely must dispense with the formalities, for we shall spend a great deal of time with each other in the coming months.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
The gregarious young woman then laced her hand through Lord Holland’s crossed arms. “Indeed. Please pardon me for a moment. I need a moment with this fine gentleman.”
Once again, Elizabeth found herself alone with Mr. Darcy. Why is he merely staring at me? Elizabeth looked at him expectantly; after all, he had been the one to summon her to his side. “If I may ask, what is the purpose of my standing here, sir?”
“Pardon?”
“Earlier, you said you wanted to speak with me. I am listening.”
“I simply wanted to—” He paused for a moment. Moistening his lips, his gaze pored over Elizabeth. “I supposed I wanted to speak with you—”
“Then, I suppose that whatever it was you wanted to say to me has since slipped your mind.”
“You might say that.”
What an exasperating man! When Miss Lancaster spoke of us spending time in company, I wonder if that includes spending time with him.
He is Lord Holland’s house guest, and I imagine Miss Lancaster does not often forego the chance to be in his lordship’s company.
Elizabeth’s thoughts wandered back to her current companion.
If she were to judge by the manner in which he looked at her, she would swear he was looking for a flaw in her appearance—perhaps some failure of perfect symmetry in her form.
Elizabeth’s courage always rose in the face of any such attempts to intimidate her.
As with her aunt, she intended for Mr. Darcy to know it.
She arched her brow. “Senility—I pray that is not a family trait, Mr. Darcy.”
Before the gentleman could fashion a retort, a passerby interrupted them with congratulations on Mr. Darcy’s victory.
Elizabeth glanced to where Lord Holland and Miss Lancaster stood.
By the look of things, Miss Lancaster would like very much to be the future mistress of Avondale. I must admit they are a striking pair.
The couple’s return put an end to Elizabeth’s musings. Lord Holland stood next to his friend. “Well, Darcy, it seems that we are obliged to attend a picnic tomorrow.”
A bemused expression crossed Mr. Darcy’s face. “A picnic?”
Lord Holland smiled fondly at the young woman attached to his arm. “The lady insists.”
“Well, you did promise me that you would have a picnic at Avondale, did you not. I prognosticate that tomorrow will be such a fine day. I am sure Mr. Darcy will find the occasion diverting. You must be sure to invite Miss Elizabeth.”
The viscount gazed at Elizabeth. “What say you to a picnic, Miss Bennet?”
Glad for the opportunity to spend time with people her own age, Elizabeth was inclined to accept immediately. However, these people were strangers. Some measure of prudence was warranted. “As I only just met you, your lordship, may I presume to ask who else will be in attendance?”
Lucy said, “Why, solely the four of us. Lord Holland will not take no for an answer, will you, my lord?”
The viscount said nothing, which was all the encouragement Miss Lancaster needed. “There, you see. The four of us shall have a picnic at Avondale tomorrow. What a lovely time it shall be!”
Elizabeth could hardly wait to commit the events of the day to paper when she returned to Barrington Hall that evening after having dined at Avondale along with her aunt and several other prominent guests in celebration of Mr. Darcy’s victory.
As the winning bay was a thoroughbred he had recently acquired from Lord Holland’s father and the winning purse was upwards of one hundred pounds, it was indeed a cause for celebration for the House of Avondale as well.
Her mind filled with the perplexing gentleman, Elizabeth took her place at her writing desk and began.
The tall, distinguished gentleman I met in the village a few days prior is Mr. Darcy.
It turns out he is not a peer after all, but he might as well be.
By Lady Vanessa’s account, he descends from a long line of aristocrats.
I have even learned he has ten thousand pounds a year, and he is the young master of one of the finest estates in Derbyshire.
Though it matters not in the least to me, the gentleman is single.
Just think what Mama would say! What I say is that he is haughty and condescending, and he likely thinks very highly of himself.
The only reason I bother to write about him at all is because I had the ‘pleasure’ of spending such a great stretch of time in his company today.
Never have I felt myself to be so closely observed than I did when with him.
He is a man of sense and education, and were I to be completely honest, I would have to confess that his Adonis-like features render him exceedingly agreeable to look at.
I suppose he has the capacity to be charming should he wish it, but I shall reserve judgement for now. I shall see how he behaves tomorrow.
I also had the pleasure of meeting Lady Vanessa’s nephew, today—Lord Andrew Holland.
Oh, what a handsome man he is with his tall person, his dark eyes, and his perfect, dark hair.
I am rather certain I was not the only member of our party who regarded him so, for I also had the privilege of meeting a Miss Lucy Lancaster.
What a charming creature she is. I think we shall get along swimmingly.