Chapter Sixteen
The ladies gathered in Elizabeth's room before dinner, and if their last meeting there had felt like a council of war, this one bore far more resemblance to the evenings she and her sisters spent together after a ball, when every conversation was repeated and every gentleman judged with greater freedom than would have been permitted downstairs.
Although the gentlemen now led by a single point, the mood was decidedly triumphant.
Lady Frances had been installed in the best chair as guest of honour, while Miss Harriet Sitcombe stood behind her fashioning a crown from lavender gathered in the gardens below.
Miss Lacey had already completed a drawing of the final touch.
In it, Lady Frances stood tall and composed with her foil raised, while Mr Ashcombe turned away with a fierce scowl that made him appear like a villain from the gothic novels Elizabeth loved.
"You have made him too handsome," Lady Frances said with a completely straight face when the picture was handed to her.
The ladies laughed, and even Miss Harrington joined them.
She had arrived with a very sincere apology, offered without excuses or any attempt to lessen her fault.
The apology had been accepted with equal sincerity, and the matter had then been set aside.
Jane now sat beside her near the window, carefully unpicking a row of yellow rosettes from the skirt of her dinner gown while Amelia held the discarded decorations in her lap.
"I had not understood quite how many there were," Amelia said as Jane removed another.
"Fourteen so far," Clara replied from the chair nearby.
Amelia looked down at the growing heap. "Mama was very fond of them."
"Then you must present them to her," Harriet said. "She may add them to her own wardrobe."
Amelia's laugh escaped before she could prevent it. Jane smiled and continued her work, removing another rosette and smoothing the silk beneath it.
"The gown itself is very pretty," she said. "Once these are gone, the colour will suit you beautifully."
Amelia ran one hand over the altered skirt. "I do not know how to thank you."
"You have already done so at least five times, my dear," Lady Frances replied, adjusting the lavender crown as it slipped towards one ear. "If you continue, Miss Bennet may begin to charge by the rosette."
That drew another laugh from the room and allowed Amelia to settle more comfortably among them.
Elizabeth, seated before the dressing table, watched her with some relief while Miss Grey secured the final pins in her hair.
Miss Grey had also grown up among four sisters and possessed a particular talent for arranging curls, which she had offered readily when Elizabeth despaired of her own.
Amelia had been tense when she entered, uncertain of her welcome, but the strain had begun to leave her face.
Miss Drummond placed Miss Lacey's drawing upon the mantelpiece where Mr Ashcombe's sour expression could be admired by everyone. "We have discussed Lady Frances's victory at some length," she said. "I believe it may now be time to turn to the more important consequences of the afternoon."
Harriet immediately looked interested. "The gentlemen."
"Naturally."
Mrs Cartwright, who sat near the foot of the bed, gave a small shake of her head. "I begin to understand why Lady Hortensia sent our companions to the Dower House."
"They would only interrupt," Harriet replied.
"Our mother certainly would," Clara said.
Harriet ignored her sister and fixed her attention upon Mrs Cartwright. "Mr Hadley applauded you most fiercely today."
"He was being kind."
"He has been very kind to you since we arrived," Miss Grey observed.
Mrs Cartwright looked towards the fire, though the colour in her cheeks had already betrayed her. "Mr Hadley is kind to everyone."
"Not in quite the same manner," Elizabeth said.
Mrs Cartwright turned to her with mild reproach. "I had thought a captain ought to protect her team."
"From injury, certainly. You are entirely on your own when it comes to admiration. You shall just have to bear it."
The smile Mrs Cartwright tried to suppress made further argument unnecessary. Harriet, satisfied with the result, turned next to Amelia.
"And what of Mr Henry Blackwood?"
Amelia nearly dropped the rosettes. "What of him?"
"He watched you throughout the archery."
"He did not."
"He did," Clara said. "Though with rather more restraint than Colonel Fitzwilliam has shown with Miss Bennet since the moment we arrived."
Jane's scissors paused against the thread. The colour rose slowly in her cheeks as several of the ladies turned towards her, and for a moment she gave all her attention to a single stubborn stitch before looking up.
"The colonel is most agreeable."
"Agreeable!" Harriet laughed. "Miss Bennet, he finds a reason to be near you whenever he can. At breakfast this morning, there were six empty chairs and he still chose the one beside yours. Then, this afternoon, he applauded every arrow as though you had won the contest single-handed."
"He was the first to cross the lawn when it ended as well," Miss Drummond added. "I believe he had forgotten entirely that he belonged to the opposing team."
Jane tried to appear unmoved, but the corners of her mouth had begun to lift. "You are exaggerating."
Her answer was mild, but there was enough satisfaction in it to make Elizabeth smile. Jane caught her eye in the mirror and immediately found reason to adjust the ribbon at her sleeve.
Miss Drummond glanced around the room. "That appears to account for Mr Hadley, one of the Mr Blackwoods and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr Ashcombe has been thoroughly dealt with by Lady Frances, which leaves… Mr Darcy."
Miss Grey's hands stilled briefly in Elizabeth's hair. Harriet abandoned the lavender crown and came to stand beside the dressing table. "Mr Darcy watched you through most of the archery."
"He was observing the opposing team."
"He looked ready to call out Mr Blackwood when he helped you with the bow."
"That is absurd."
"Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared to think it very amusing," Miss Drummond said. "He watched Mr Darcy almost as closely as Mr Darcy watched you."
Elizabeth reached for one of her earrings and fastened it with unnecessary care. "Mr Darcy cannot be held responsible for his cousin's amusement."
"No," said Lady Frances. "But he may be held responsible for the manner in which he held your hands after the fencing."
Elizabeth's fingers slipped against the clasp. "You are all determined to make far too much of a moment which lasted no more than a few seconds."
Lady Frances examined the lavender crown now resting crookedly upon her hair. "A few seconds may still be revealing."
Elizabeth looked at her through the mirror. "And what precisely do you believe they revealed?"
There was a brief exchange of glances among the ladies. Amelia was the one who answered, her voice quiet but certain. "I think Mr Darcy is in love with you."
The room fell still. Elizabeth stared at Amelia, startled by the plainness of the words.
Mr Darcy had made no declaration, and only that morning he had suggested that they forget the kiss entirely.
He had also held her hands before everyone, and when she had accused him of showing too little concern over the score, his answer had sounded like something more.
She could not deny that her heart beat faster at the very thought of him.
But no, this was madness, she was getting caught up in this strange bubble they had created around the challenge.
The plain truth was that he was so above her in consequence that he was unlikely even to speak to her if they were not thrown together in this way.
Harriet was the first to break the silence. "Well?"
"There is no well," Elizabeth said, turning back towards the mirror, her voice unusually cold. "Miss Harrington is mistaken."
"Perhaps," Lady Frances replied carefully. "But you have not said that you would be sorry if she were right."
Elizabeth reached for her other earring and concentrated upon fastening it. "Mr Darcy only looks to find fault," she said, with more conviction than she felt. "I cannot imagine why you should mistake disapproval for devotion."
There was another long pause, uneasiness seeping into the festive atmosphere.
But the conversation soon moved on around Elizabeth, warm and noisy, as the respective merits of every gentleman at Chaffley Hall were debated.
Elizabeth allowed Miss Grey to finish fussing with her hair and contributed little beyond an occasional smile.
Her thoughts remained with Mr Darcy's hands closing around hers upon the lawn.
???
Dinner that evening was a raucous affair.
The wine flowed freely, laughter came often and easily, and even Mr Ashcombe was drawn into better humour.
Before the first course had been removed, he rose from his chair, crossed to Lady Frances and offered his hand.
"I was beaten fairly," he said, with some stiffness but no trace of mockery. "And by a very fine opponent."
Lady Frances regarded him for a moment before placing her hand in his. "That is graciously said, Mr Ashcombe."
"I assure you, it has cost me some effort."
"I do not doubt it."
The company laughed, Mr Ashcombe included, and the last of the unpleasantness appeared to leave him as he returned to his place.
Lady Hortensia watched the exchange with a broad smile which softened the heavy lines of her face.
She had ordered the teams to sit together rather than in opposition, and the arrangement proved wise.
Arguments over the Challenge gave way to stories of previous house parties and increasingly bold predictions for the days ahead.
Mr Hadley had secured the chair beside Mrs Cartwright and appeared determined to keep her entertained. He had already persuaded her to admit that she had not disliked archery quite as much as expected, though she remained firm that rowing would lead only to disaster.