Chapter 8 #3
“When she is one-and-twenty and needs no permission,” Elizabeth said, laughing.
“I have a riddle none of you shall guess,” said Hurst. “What are the two rings of marriage?”
“The wedding ring and the suffering,” Darcy answered, to Hurst’s dismay and to the shaking heads of Mrs Lanyon, Bingley, and Mrs Bingley. He noted that Mrs Hurst showed no opinion.
“Let go!”
Everyone held fast, and Bingley frowned. “None of you are properly distracted. Mrs Annesley, what manner of man would you wish to marry?”
“A single one.”
“Caroline, what manner of man do you wish to marry?”
“A gentleman, of course, with a good fortune. A handsome and genteel man, all courtesy and good breeding.” She turned to Mrs Lanyon. “What do you think?”
“I would be content with a cheerful manner and an interesting face,” Mrs Lanyon finally said.
“Then you do intend to marry again?”
It was an impertinent question, even in the game, especially to one who was not a friend.
When it was clear that Mrs Lanyon would be silent, Elizabeth said to Miss Bingley, “If you ever achieve a happily married state, then I am sure that you could understand if a widow, after properly mourning her husband, may wish to marry again. Or she may keep his memory too close to her heart to allow another man into it.”
“Tell us what manner of man you have in mind for Miss Darcy,” Balfour said to Darcy, perhaps trying to shift attention from his own sister’s distress.
“Let go!”
Balfour did, and then said, “Damn it!” before apologising to the ladies. “You were saying, Darcy?”
“I would wish for her to make a prudent choice,” he said softly, with a look to Georgiana that held all the grace he could show her for her mistake at Ramsgate. “There are many considerations that are necessary.”
“Hold fast!”
They all let go, and whilst they were collecting their ribbons, Mrs Hurst said, “You must have more to say about the husband you want for your sister.”
“Miss Darcy will have an opinion on that as well,” Mrs Annesley immediately said, and Darcy admired her for her devotion to Georgiana.
“Of course she will, and her preference will be the most important consideration,” Darcy said, giving Georgiana a pointed look. Her smile reassured him that she had recovered from her disappointment at Ramsgate.
“Come now, tell us what you require of a suitor for Miss Darcy,” Balfour said.
“I would consider the family and connexions of the young man—which are not the most essential in my eye,” he added quickly.
“His disposition and frame of mind are important.” Darcy turned to Elizabeth, holding her eye and speaking pointedly.
“She should consider what prospect there is of his proving kind and affectionate to her, and just and attentive to her children.”
“Let go!”
Elizabeth’s breath came a little fast as she smiled fondly at him, and Darcy let go of his ribbon.
“You see,” Bingley said, “not so simple a contrivance!”
He had kept his passion for Elizabeth within some bounds, but when she smiled at him with such warmth and tenderness, he felt the dawning of particular desires and wishes.
Although he had yet to learn for certain if her feelings for him had changed, his blood was boiling in his veins at the hope of it.
Darcy hurriedly picked up his ribbon, trying to settle his racing heart, and they played for a while longer, but no new forfeits were incurred. Hurst, Mrs Lanyon, Balfour, and himself were required to pay penance. Bingley conferred with a few of the others to decide their punishment.
“Well, Hurst, in the spirit of contradiction, you shall do the direct contrary to what everyone in the company asks of you.”
They were amused for some time whilst Hurst was bid to be speechless, to not salute his wife, to sing as quietly as he could, and so on.
Mrs Lanyon was punished less severely, and had only to attempt to blow out a candle as Bingley passed it back and forth in front of her lips.
This feat proved more difficult than imagined, and by the end everyone was laughing.
“I hope you have chosen to award a more interesting punishment to us two forfeits,” Balfour said to Bingley whilst drawing Darcy forward with him.
“Indeed? Then, Darcy’s quip about siblings notwithstanding, why not Le Baiser à la Religieuse for you both?”
His company cried in amusement, but Darcy worried about his turn.
Balfour seemed to have no misgivings about being the Penitent and, to his surprise, chose Georgiana to personate the Nun and Mrs Annesley to be the iron grate.
Darcy watched with his lips pressed together, ready to put an end to this nonsense should his sister show the slightest wish of withdrawing.
“As master of our sport, I hope you will order this particular Penitent to only kiss the hand and not the Nun’s cheek?” Balfour said heavily.
Bingley agreed whilst Mrs Bingley and Elizabeth brought two chairs, and Georgiana sat in one and Mrs Annesley took the other.
Georgiana was pink, but she held out her hand.
Mrs Annesley put her own hand up in front of it with fingers spread to represent the grate.
Balfour knelt by the grate, rather than kneel directly before Georgiana, and said, “Alas, these cruel bars!”
Georgiana looked at Darcy, as though to ask permission. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she said to Balfour, “You may bestow on me a parting kiss.”
At the word “kiss,” Balfour, as Penitent, tried to kiss the Nun’s hand whilst Mrs Annesley, performing the grate, endeavoured to baffle him by closing her fingers. Balfour kissed the bars of the grate, and Mrs Annesley tugged his ear, crying, “Take that. How dare you waste your kisses on iron!”
Everyone laughed as Balfour leant this way and that to attempt to kiss Georgiana’s hand, missing and kissing Mrs Annesley’s fingers instead and getting his ear pulled every time.
It seemed he was not going to win the day, and the grate took pity on him, leaving her fingers open wide on purpose and ending his punishment.
“You may give one parting kiss,” Georgiana said, laughing from nervousness, and turning her head away to avoid watching. Balfour leant forward and kissed her hand through Mrs Annesley’s fingers, and everyone clapped.
Balfour could say things that would put a proper miss to a blush, but he had behaved gallantly towards Georgiana. He treated her like an adult, but with consideration for her diffident nature. Balfour found a way to include her, whilst kindly remembering that she was sixteen and shy.
Balfour left the chairs and came to Darcy’s side. “They say a girl looks best whilst blushing,” he whispered, “but I hate to see the lass suffer much or else not join the fun.”
Darcy smiled his thanks, and Balfour knowingly touched his forehead in salute.
“Your turn, Darcy!” Bingley called.
Why did it have to be Kiss the Nun?
He would be made to choose again if he picked one of the married ladies, and he would not choose Mrs Annesley and have someone in his employ suffer the master’s kiss even in a game.
He dared not select Miss Bingley, and if he picked the woman he wanted to kiss, it would embarrass them both.
Even if it was just her cheek, he did not want an audience if his lips were going to be anywhere near Elizabeth.
Mrs Lanyon, widowed and not inclined to be jealous, was the safest choice.
She and Elizabeth were standing together, and he approached the widow. “Madam, would you be the N—”
“Yes, I shall be the grate,” said Mrs Lanyon, linking an arm through Elizabeth’s and pulling her towards the chairs. “And you were about to ask this lady to be the Nun.”
What the hell do I do now?
If he corrected her, Elizabeth might assume he was reluctant to kiss her.
If he cried off, everyone’s mood would be ruined and he would spoil the game.
He could not press Mrs Lanyon because what if she felt strongly about not being kissed?
Elizabeth looked taken aback as she took her seat.
She must have seen he had been approaching the widow and not her.
There was nothing for it now. He carefully knelt in front of Elizabeth whilst Mrs Lanyon, to her left, placed her hand against her cheek with fingers splayed.
“Alas, these cruel, cruel bars,” he said quietly.
“They are not so narrow.” He heard her take in a breath. “You may bestow on me . . . a kiss, one parting kiss.”
Darcy stretched up to reach Elizabeth’s pink cheek, but he was too slow, and his lips landed on Mrs Lanyon’s finger. He winced when she tugged his ear with her other hand, saying, “How dare you waste your kisses on cold iron?”
“Are we not too old for such silly games?” Darcy said after he had been thwarted twice more, and had been heartily laughed at by everyone, save Elizabeth, who was very still.
“This is the point,” said Utterson. “Steady, serious people must endure to engage in the ridiculous to amuse the rest of us.”
“What is the matter?” asked Balfour. “Do you not want to kiss the pretty Nun?”
“I do,” he said under his breath. What only remained to be seen was if Elizabeth ever wanted him to kiss her, on the lips, without an audience.
“The grate shall have compassion on the Penitent,” said Mrs Lanyon, straining her fingers wide against Elizabeth’s cheek.
“There, Darcy, the Penitent has been sufficiently tantalised,” said Bingley. “Kiss her cheek, and your punishment is done.”
Mrs Lanyon’s open fingers gave him plenty of space.
Darcy intended to bring his left hand to the back of Elizabeth’s chair, to brace himself to extend up and kiss her, but nature overruled propriety.
Instead, he rested his hand against her left cheek, gently holding her still as he kissed the other.
At the last moment, Mrs Lanyon removed her hand entirely as she stepped away.
Elizabeth’s eyes stayed open until his lips softly made contact with her cheek.
He wondered if he lingered there too long.
If he had, Elizabeth did not pull back. Darcy rose and held out a hand to help Elizabeth to rise, and the affectionate look she gave made him think that her feelings for him had undergone a material change since April.