Chapter 6 #2
“That was very considerate of him,” Bingley said.
“Mrs Bennet did extend the invitation, but we declined for much the same reason—or rather, Darcy supplied the reason, and I had the good sense to agree with him. Still, I hope she will not think us unwilling to accept her hospitality on another evening.”
“I assure you, she will find another opportunity,” Elizabeth replied lightly. “Mama is rarely discouraged for long.”
Darcy could readily believe it, even after only a brief acquaintance with the lady.
“I confess I am rather glad your father prevailed,” Georgiana said. “I should like to remain here as long as we are permitted.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Then I believe you and Mary will get on very well indeed. She has been looking forward to seeing you again. In fact, she was disappointed that the celebration prevented us from calling today, and with tomorrow being the Sabbath, she feared she would have to wait until Monday.”
The pleasure that immediately appeared in Georgiana’s expression only confirmed Darcy’s growing conviction that bringing his sister to Hertfordshire had been one of his better decisions.
Before he could say anything more, Mr Ainsworth stepped forward to call the gathering to order.
Since it was Netherfield’s turn to host the celebration and the landowner was absent, Mr Ainsworth offered a brief welcome before yielding the floor to Sir William Lucas and Mr Bennet. Sir William was predictably effusive, while Mr Bennet required far fewer words to convey his sentiments.
Before long, supper was served, and everyone helped themselves from tables that seemed nearly to groan beneath the weight of the food. The harvest had evidently been a good one that year, and the abundance of the celebration appeared to confirm it.
Darcy led Georgiana to a table with their plates, and Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary joined them only a moment later.
Bingley, he saw, had found Miss Bennet and was trailing after her like a puppy.
Fortunately, she seemed to be putting his enthusiasm to good use by introducing him to several of Netherfield’s tenants—or at least, Darcy assumed they belonged to Netherfield.
The rest of the Bennet family had taken their places at one of the larger tables near the front of the gathering, along with several of the other landowners and their families.
Lydia remained there beside her parents, as did a handful of younger children who were expected to stay close to their families rather than wander freely amongst the crowd.
Soon Georgiana and Miss Mary were happily engaged in a discussion of music and particular pieces, and Elizabeth turned her attention to Darcy.
“It seems it may not be Georgiana and I who become fast friends after all, but Mary and Georgiana. They are nearer in age, and I think Mary has long wanted someone with whom she might discuss music as much as she likes.” Her tone turned teasing.
“I dearly love to play, but I confess I have never shared her enthusiasm for practising.”
“And my aunt would tell you that no one can become truly proficient without constant practice,” Darcy replied, unable to resist answering her teasing tone.
The easy amusement he experienced with her still felt strangely unfamiliar. He could not remember having smiled so often in the space of a few days as he had since meeting Miss Elizabeth.
Before he could consider the significance of that observation, a cry rose from one of the nearby tables.
“Davy is missing!”
Conversation ceased almost at once.
A woman pushed hurriedly to her feet, her face pale. “Little Davy. Has anyone seen him? He was beside me only a few moments ago.”
Darcy turned towards Elizabeth, whose own expression had become grim. “How old is the child?”
“Only three, and prone to wandering farther than he has any right to do,” Elizabeth answered. “There will be little moonlight tonight. We ought to find him before it grows fully dark.”
She immediately went to the child’s mother, taking the woman’s hands and attempting to calm her while Darcy turned his attention to the gathering crowd.
Years of managing Pemberley made his own response almost instinctive.
When none of the other landholders seemed prepared to organise the search, Darcy stepped forward and began issuing instructions, dividing those willing to help into several groups and sending them in different directions.
He directed some towards the house and stables, others towards the gardens and surrounding fields, and instructed everyone to return immediately if the boy was found.
By the time Darcy had finished, several of the groups had already set off. Elizabeth was still speaking quietly with Davy’s mother, though the woman appeared somewhat calmer than she had before.
“Did he say anything before he wandered away?” Darcy heard Elizabeth ask. “Was there somewhere he particularly wished to go?”
The woman pressed a hand to her mouth as she considered the question. “He kept asking about the little stone house, miss. The one near the flower garden.”
Even in the dim light, Darcy saw Elizabeth go still at the words.
“The grotto?” she asked.
“Yes, miss. He has been asking to see it all evening.”
The boy’s mother looked nearly frantic with worry, and Elizabeth remained with her for another moment, speaking quietly before crossing quickly to where Darcy stood.
“I think I know where he may have gone. There is a grotto beyond the flower garden that the children are forever wanting to explore. His mother says Davy has been asking about it all evening.”
Darcy glanced towards the woman Elizabeth had just left, then called Mary and Georgiana over.
“Would you remain with Davy’s mother while we search?” he asked. “She may need you, and someone should stay here in case the boy finds his own way back.”
Both young ladies readily agreed.
Darcy turned back to Elizabeth. “Is the grotto far?”
“Not especially, but the path is partly through the shrubbery, and it will be difficult to see once the light is gone.” She glanced towards the darkening sky. “If you can find us a lantern, I can show you the way.”
Darcy regarded her for a moment. “You intend to come with me?”
“Of course,” she said, one brow rising in the manner he had already come to recognise as a sign of impending impertinence. “You may be considerably better at organising a search, Mr Darcy, but I know where we are going.”
Despite the circumstances, her dry humour amused him.
“I will follow your lead, madam,” he said, moving towards one of the lanterns hung around the edge of the area set aside for dancing and lifting it from its hook.
As she had warned, the path was somewhat difficult to traverse in the gathering darkness. Elizabeth, however, seemed to know instinctively where she was going, and as Darcy walked beside her, he found himself considering once again how calmly she had responded.
Several of the ladies had done little more than exclaim over the child’s disappearance, and many of the gentlemen had seemed equally uncertain how to proceed until Darcy began organising the search.
Elizabeth had required no such direction.
She had immediately questioned the boy’s mother, determined where he might have gone, and set out to find him.
It was yet another quality he had not thought to look for in a wife, but now found himself valuing very highly.