Chapter 17 Wednesday, You Dreadful Day #3
“We have been so busy of late that I have had little time for books. I have been rereading Lyrical Ballads when I have a quiet half hour.”
“Ah, yes. I find it soothing to read something familiar when one is in the midst of a hectic period in life.”
“Just so, Sir.”
He nodded again. “Shall you marry my nephew?”
Elizabeth choked on the wine she had just drunk. She coughed and spluttered as she felt her face grow red, and she could feel several pairs of eyes on her.
Sir Daniel reached out and smacked her back, a little harder than necessary, and said to the table, “Nothing to worry about. She is perfectly well.”
Elizabeth glared at him, then took a shaky breath and dabbed her mouth with a napkin as the other guests returned to their conversations. She did not look at Mr. Darcy. She could not stand to see his disappointment, or worse, that he was not even looking her way.
“All better?”
She looked wryly at the judge. “Well enough, Sir.”
“Good.” He looked at her with narrowed eyes, and she wondered if he was trying to read her mind.
“What interests you so, Sir Daniel?”
“I have known my nephew his entire life. I have never seen him enamored of a woman, nor even mildly interested in marrying. Both are now happening at the same time and I find myself curious about the object of his affection.”
Elizabeth blushed. “Is that all? Am I to be subject to another inquisition then?”
“Not at all. I would simply like to get to know you. If my nephew admires you, you must be extraordinary.”
She flushed. Again. “I do not know that I am extraordinary, but I am pleased if your nephew finds me so.”
“So you will marry him then?”
“Sir Daniel!”
The judge chuckled quietly as Elizabeth sat red and embarrassed. Eventually her own mirth could not be denied, and she laughed alongside him.
“You shall lower her ladyship’s opinion of my manners,” she teased.
“Do you care for her ladyship’s opinion of your manners?”
“We are not all judges past the need to make a good impression.”
“And here I thought you uncaring of popular opinion.”
“I am not overly concerned about it, but I do not wish to make things awkward for Mr. Darcy. This is his family, after all.”
“You care for him.” It was not a question.
“I would hardly allow a man to court me if I did not.”
Sir Daniel shrugged. “Many women would.”
“I am not that sort of woman.”
“I see that. And may I say I am glad of it.”
“Thank you, Sir Daniel. I think.”
They smiled at one another, she more cautiously than he, and the footmen arrived to remove their plates and serve the next course.
Elizabeth took the opportunity to look down the table at Jane.
She seemed to have enjoyed her conversation with Lady Clara, but now she would turn back to Lord Hopewell and his indifference.
“Do not worry overmuch. My nephew is an insufferable snob. He will come around.”
Sir Daniel’s quiet assurance helped her to relax, but she was still unhappy that sweet Jane was being subjected to such behavior.
“She has a very sweet nature. Such behavior will distress her,” she said, just as quietly.
“Ah. It would be better if she could see the ridiculousness in it. He does not recognize his own rudeness, but we may laugh at it if we choose.”
Elizabeth began to see why Mr. Darcy said Sir Daniel reminded him of Mr. Bennet.
“I suppose you are right,” she said.
“We old judges often are, Miss Elizabeth.”
She could not help but laugh at that. “Thank you, Sir Daniel.”
“Whatever for?”
“For the good company.”
He smiled and nodded, and she turned back to the countess for the next round of questioning.
“Miss Elizabeth, do you play the pianoforte?”
It would be a long evening.
Dinner was interminable. Elizabeth told Lady Hopewell about her childhood—wild and country-bound; her education—indifferent and unfeminine; and her family—unconnected and untitled.
Lady Hopewell was more than a little shocked by the fact that Elizabeth had neither had a governess nor gone to school.
She was unimpressed by the country tutors her father had hired.
She was appalled that Mr. Bennet had thought it valuable that his daughters learn to swim but had not insisted they all learn to ride.
Elizabeth did not tell her that his young cousin had drowned when she was only seven years of age and that his sister had been thrown from a horse so many times his father had been forced to sell the poor beast. Mr. Bennet had his reasons for his choices, but Elizabeth doubted Lady Hopewell would understand them.
She would not debase herself or her father by justifying his decisions to someone so wholly unconnected to them.
When the courses changed—there were seven in total—she turned her attention to Sir Daniel.
He was entertaining and inquisitive, and after an hour of conversation, she found his mind well-informed and his curiosity as rabid as he had claimed it to be.
He asked her questions about herself, but of a different variety than his niece.
He wished to know about her relationship with her father.
What sort of holiday traditions she enjoyed.
What kind of books she favored and whether or not she was musical.
He too had reasons for his questions. He knew his great-nephew to be fond of music and to enjoy reading, and Fitzwilliam’s happiness would be greater if his wife indulged him in such things.
He asked if she enjoyed the country or town more and if she was looking forward to being the mistress of an estate.
He asked her about her sisters and how she spent her free time, and why her aunt and uncle in London were her favorite relations.
Overall, he seemed happy with her responses, or so she thought.
“There is only one thing left to do, Miss Elizabeth.”
“What is that, Sir Daniel?” She smiled brightly at him, feeling a pleasant kinship and the beginnings of familial affection for him.
“Be careful with that smile, young lady. You will fell more than one young man if you are not more judicious.”
She laughed delightedly. Mr. Darcy finally looked her way, but she was too focused on his great-uncle to notice.
“You are a flatterer, Sir. I am surprised. I had thought all judges to be too stodgy for such things.”
“Ah, but I am retired, my dear.”
She shook her head fondly. “You must tell me what I should do now. I am all curiosity.”
“Now, you must meet my daughter, Lady Hightower.”
“Another lady! I had no idea Mr. Darcy’s relations were all so grand.”
“Well, the poor dear did not do it apurpose. She married a barrister with a modest income and was quite happy with her choice. Then his elder brother, the viscount, died and left only daughters, and her husband inherited the title.” He spoke with his eyes downcast, as if a great tragedy had befallen his daughter in the form of an inheritance and a title.
“If she is anything like her father, I shall be pleased to meet her.”
“Now who is the flatterer?”
Elizabeth smiled back innocently. “I speak as I find, Sir.”
He shook his head. “She is in the country at present. She is only a few years older than young Fitzwilliam.” She nodded towards Mr. Darcy. “I married rather late in life. She will come to Town for a few weeks at the end of the month. I will introduce you then.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
She was not certain how it had happened, but she knew she had just passed some sort of test and was feeling rather pleased with herself.
She looked to Mr. Darcy with a smile, hoping to share in her victory.
He met her gaze for what felt like the first time all evening and seemed surprised to see her looking so pleased.
He returned her smile and for a minute, it was just the two of them, sharing a stolen moment.
Then the door to the dining room burst open and a loud voice cried out, “Mother, I forgot you had guests this evening.”
All eyes turned to the young man standing near Lord Hopewell’s chair with a mischievous grin on his face.
He was wearing a bright green jacket with a garishly embroidered gold waistcoat.
His hair was on the long side and fashionably disarranged, and he stood in such a way that bespoke confidence and entitlement.
Elizabeth instantly disliked him.
“Bertie, you knew perfectly well we were having Darcy’s friends to dinner this evening.”
“So I did. Forgive me for being late, Darcy.” He looked about the table, ignoring Darcy’s frown, and smiled widely. “But I am here now, so no harm done.”
His eyes lit on Jane and his expression brightened. “You must be Darcy’s lady love.” He took her hand from where it rested on the table and kissed it after an elaborate bow. “I am very pleased to meet you.” He winked at her on rising and Jane’s mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Do stop your little show, Winters. You are making Miss Bennet uncomfortable,” said Sir Daniel, his raspy voice suddenly strong and authoritative.
Lord Winters straightened immediately. “Forgive me, Uncle. I was only trying to be friendly.”
“That is rather too friendly,” said Mr. Darcy. “And I am afraid you have the wrong Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth is seated next to your mother. Miss Jane Bennet is her elder sister.” Darcy looked to Elizabeth with an apology in his eyes for sending his cousin her way.
She tried to convey with her expression that he had done the right thing. It would be better to redirect the viscount’s attention to herself instead of Jane.
“Well, in that case, I shall keep Miss Bennet company.” He smiled roguishly and signaled a footman to bring him a chair. “Move over, Clara.” He unceremoniously pushed his sister over so he could fit comfortably between her and Jane.
“Bertie! You are like an ass someone has let in from the barn,” huffed Clara.
“Clara, watch your language at table,” corrected Lady Hopewell.
Clara gasped and looked at her mother in astonishment.