Chapter 11 Richard
Richard
Richard had promised his mother he would go to what would likely be a dreary musicale to meet some likely dull heiress.
He adjusted his uniform as he emerged from his carriage, and without thought or effort he donned his attitude of bonhomie.
He smiled widely as he was announced—and then he saw her.
Correction, he saw them.
Elizabeth was at the musicale! And she looked even more spectacular than ever before. Her gown fit perfectly, and he had to picture his Aunt Catherine in order to ensure he did not embarrass himself. And then there was Elizabeth’s hair, the jewels at her throat—
His breath seemed to be stuck in his own throat. He could not breathe out, and that meant that he also could not breathe in.
Of course, Darcy was there as well, looking to be the most handsome man who ever existed, damn him.
Richard felt as if his soul was sliced up by the feelings he had for the man who had been his closest relation and friend his entire life—for how dare he be so tall, strong, and handsome when he was already so very wealthy?
It was simply beyond belief that any man could have as much… .
Richard had never felt that way before, however, and he knew full well that he did not really mind his cousin having looks as well as a grand estate and an immense fortune. He only minded that he also had her.
Luckily, Richard managed to keep his smile, though it was even more false than usual, and he greeted Darcy and Elizabeth as they surged towards him with smiles of pleasure.
“Richard! I am surprised but delighted to see you!”
“Colonel, I feel likewise.”
“Darcy, Miss Bennet, my fondest greetings to the two of you. You look magnificent, Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you.” She smiled artlessly into his eyes. “Your mother helped me with my clothing today, but she neglected to tell me you would be here.”
“My mother bought you this gown?” How he wished he had never introduced Elizabeth to his mother…and thus his cousin!
Elizabeth laughed softly and said, “Of course not. My aunt and uncle have long ensured that my wardrobe fits the London events I have attended. No, your mother was very kindly offering approval and suggestion services. Unfortunately, I had to disapprove of her suggestions: she wished me to wear a turban—” Elizabeth used her hands to suggest the shape of a turban sitting upon her head—“with ostrich feathers.” Again she used her hand, this time lifting it as if it were an ostrich feather waving about, above her head.
She never touched Darcy’s face, but her hand came close to his cheek and then his nose. Richard, picturing Elizabeth in one of his mother’s turban monstrosities, with the feathers tickling and torturing Darcy’s face, let out an enormous guffaw.
“Naturally,” Elizabeth said, still waving her fingers near Darcy’s cheek, “I said, no thank you. But I did feel grateful for her efforts on my behalf.”
Darcy tenderly took her hand, which at that moment was positioned by his mouth, and he kissed the ends of her fingers. Elizabeth looked up at him with so much adoration, Richard had to look away.
Richard was shocked. It was not in the least bit proper for Darcy to kiss any woman’s fingers in public, in mixed company—even if the two were already wed!—and for Darcy to publicly do something so flirtatious and forward was unbelievable.
He rather wondered what the two had done privately!
Of course, that thought made him feel ill again.
He looked around for a distraction, and he saw his hostess, Mrs Brummel, heading his way with a young woman in tow.
Here comes my heiress, he thought. He turned away from the woman he was hopelessly in love with, and he attempted to turn on the charm he was known for as Mrs Brummel made an introduction of a woman who had no chance, he thought, to evoke his love. …
Miss Cartwright was quite pretty, with reddish blonde hair and pale eyes.
Her creamy skin showed that she had taken the usual care to be untouched by sunlight—Richard could not prevent himself from recalling how Elizabeth’s skin was slightly tanned, with just a few freckles across her nose, and it was prone to blushing in the most alluring way… .
Richard bowed over Miss Cartwright’s hand and proceeded to speak to her on the expected topics; he was careful to spark his conversation with his usual lines of flirtation and humour.
Before long Miss Cartwright was regarding him with what looked to be genuine warmth, and although her laugh was not as lovely or bell-like as Elizabeth’s laughter, it seemed genuine rather than practiced.
Of course, Mrs Brummel had introduced Miss Cartwright to Elizabeth and Darcy as well, but Richard whisked her away from the pair, knowing it would be more difficult to make a good impression on the heiress if Elizabeth was within his line of sight.
But he found that his eyes wandered frequently, trying to spot Elizabeth once again, and he was happy when the musical performances began.
He positioned himself and the heiress near the front of the seating, so he would have no temptation to watch the dark curls dance at the nape of Elizabeth’s slender neck… .
The result, of course, was that he could not see Elizabeth, but he continued to think about her.
After the musical offerings, to which Richard barely paid attention, he escorted Miss Cartwright to the large sideboard.
He helped her make a plate of cheese and meat slices, a roll, sweetmeats, and a rout cake, and he established her at a small table as he went back for his own food and a cup of negus for them each.
When he returned to their small table, he could not help but notice that Darcy and Elizabeth stood nearby.
Darcy was introducing two thin ladies to Elizabeth; they looked down their noses at her and adjusted their diamond chokers in a pointed way.
One of the women said, “Bennet. I assume you are not the daughter of the Earl of Tankerville?”
The look the woman gave Elizabeth, as if she was thinking that she did not look like the daughter of an earl, was quite absurd.
Elizabeth looked like a queen, especially compared to the ladies who had chosen to disdain her.
Richard asked Miss Cartwright in a low voice, “Do you know those two ladies?”
Miss Cartwright looked as he directed, but before she could answer, Richard heard Elizabeth’s reply: “No, I am not. I am the daughter of Mr Thomas Bennet of Longbourn. My father holds no title other than, of course, the title to the estate our family has held for centuries.”
Richard heard pride in Elizabeth’s voice, and he was impressed, as always, by her poise.
Miss Cartwright was answering, “Those ladies are sisters; the one dressed in blue is Miss Louisa Bingley, and the one who was speaking, just now, is Miss Caroline Bingley.”
Richard said, “Rather crass, I would say.”
“They are very new money, I understand. Their father, who has lately passed, owned mills in the north.”
“Ahh…” Richard raised his eyes up and said, “Ladies trying to break into the ton are often more poisonous to other newcomers than are the ladies from old, established families.”
“Yes, I believe they are. Do not worry about your cousin’s lady, though; I believe she handled the Miss Bingleys with aplomb.”
“Yes, she did.”
At that point, Darcy and Elizabeth joined them—blast!—and Richard pretended with every fibre of his being to be the happy, charming colonel people expected him to be.