Chapter Nine
Darcy sat by the window, watching the torrential rain pelting the beach, the horizon blurred and hazy grey.
He had intended on accompanying his sister to join Mr. Marsh’s naturalist expedition that afternoon, but Georgiana received a note from Miss Bennet that morning which explained that the excursion had been postponed due to the weather.
Instead, Miss Bennet invited her new friend to take tea with her and pass an afternoon “playing the pianoforte very poorly, making mediocre attempts at various crafts, and generally indulging in such excessively diverting indolence as the dismal weather demands of a fine lady and her faithful companion.”
While Darcy found himself sulking over the exclusion of the gentlemen in this curiously worded invitation, he nearly missed his sister amusing Richard with a retelling of how Anne had as good as called Miss Bennet a servant.
Richard had been heartily offended on Georgiana and Miss Bennet’s behalf and was resolved that Darcy should be equally indignant.
When Richard had gone on to suggest that Anne’s incivility must be further proof of some little envy, Darcy had quit the room in frustration. He had remained above an hour in the smaller parlor that looked down on the beach, brooding with a book in his lap.
“A classic Darcy pose,” Richard drawled as he sauntered into the room. “Does the rain not heighten your pensive sentiments? Do you even now ponder the merits of my argument that Anne’s behavior suggests jealousy over your affection, despite her marked preference for another?”
Darcy had indeed been thinking of Anne, though the direction of his thoughts had been kinder.
He had worried for her, fearing her recent prickliness belied some private turmoil or unhappiness.
Perhaps Sir Sidney’s luster had begun to lose its shine, or Lady Catherine’s domineering disapproval had become unbearable.
“I have no wish to taunt her so maliciously.”
Richard screwed up his face as he lunged back into a chair on the other side of the window and kicked his feet up on the table between them. “She taunts you with her new attachment.”
“I hardly believe she has set out to wound me. She has fallen prey to a practiced seducer, that is all. He is more affable and popular than I, which may hold some initial allure, but I know her to be a lady of substance, and superficial charms will not hold her regard. And a man of Sir Sidney’s disposition cannot long deceive a lady of Anne’s discernment; he will expose himself in some way, and she will see his true motives in pursuing her, amongst his other failings. ”
“If only you could win her heart by apologizing for her failings. But I have presented you with a clear path to victory—I am put out that you will not even consider it.” As if to emphasize his wounded sensibilities, Richard brought his hand to his heart in a dramatic flourish.
“Can you not simply rejoice that Georgiana has made an excellent new friend in Miss Bennet? I have no wish to spoil it, as surely I would, in pretending to woo the lady. What if the scheme prevented her from finding a true suitor?”
“Georgie says Miss Bennet has no wish to find a suitor. I cannot say that I blame her, having seen the local supply. And she claims to be perfectly content with her life as it is, assisting her uncle in his great venture at the hotel, playing with her young cousins, and living a life of comfort in a beautiful place. You see, Georgie has told me all about the lady—we are a fount of useful information. Georgie would not mind at all, for I daresay she should rather like to have her Lizzy as a sister.”
The appellation Miss Bennet had seemed to suit the present Mrs. Bingley much better, when they had met years ago in Meryton. But such a title now seemed far too formal, when Lizzy conveyed all the irreverent mirth and irrepressible energy of Georgiana’s new friend.
Darcy sighed. “Would you have me then dash Georgiana’s hopes when your brilliant ruse works, and Anne and I are reconciled?”
“No indeed—I should rather think long and hard about why such an eventuality would be a disappointment to our dearest girl. My brilliant ruse—and indeed it is a stroke of genius—already has Georgie’s approval.
Before she departed, she tasked me with persuading you. It is a noble quest, to be sure, but….”
“You have corrupted her thoroughly.” Darcy gave his cousin a wry smile.
Richard ignored him. “As protective as you are of our ward, I wonder that you should seek to marry a woman she despises.”
“Georgiana has not come to know Anne as I have, though she will in time see her as I do. She takes offense at Anne’s temporary distraction out of a misplaced sense of gratitude to me for caring for her as I did in Scotland.
I had always meant to spend some time there improving the old pile for you, and I acted toward her as any good brother would, but I believe she feels obligated to resent Anne. It will pass.”
Richard only snorted, then crossed the room to pour a glass of brandy.
He gestured with the decanter; Darcy gave a slight nod, and Richard poured a second glass.
Then he stepped over to a mirror that hung on the wall and began to flirt with his own reflection.
“And while we are entertaining absurd delusions, perhaps I might pay court to Lizzy myself.”
“Miss Bennet.”
“Oh come, come, we are practically family already.”
Darcy accepted the drink from Richard, who then resumed his seat nearby. “I think that unwise.”
“I shall not use her Christian name in company! But in private….” Richard waggled his eyebrows.
“I think it unwise of you to court her at all,” Darcy hissed, frowning into his glass of brandy.
“I do not believe you are in a strong position to call any courtship unwise, Darcy. Recommending myself to a beautiful, artless, and unattached lady who is already on intimate terms with my favorite relations seems to me an infinitely better idea than… whatever it is you are doing.”
“I am not entirely convinced Miss Bennet is unattached. I have heard that Sir Anthony Denham is interested in her.”
Richard rolled his eyes. “You heard that at dinner, when she called him a peacock and declared that she thought his very presence would spoil her fun. Then again, I can understand how you might interpret such protestations as confirmation of some secret tendre. You clearly have no notion of when a lady wishes to discourage a gentleman’s attentions. ”
“My fault of understanding lies with the lady herself—we hardly know her.”
“Georgiana trusts her enough to have confided her secret, and that alone is a testament to her character.”
Darcy had been shocked to learn that Georgiana had shared such a sensitive piece of her history on so short an acquaintance, though he was strangely certain of Miss Bennet’s secrecy—in more ways than one.
“When I was helping Georgiana to bed the night of the dinner party, I saw a bundle of letters on Miss Bennet’s table, and she made such haste to conceal them that I suspect they are of a romantic nature.
She is certainly lovely and charming enough to have a beau already, even if she had chosen not to be equally forthcoming to Georgiana. ”
“She is lovely and charming—I am glad you approve of her this much. I believe I shall commence making love to her directly.” Richard finished his brandy and stood, gazing out the window to assess whether the rain had grown any lighter.
Darcy bristled at his cousin. “What, now? In such weather as this?”
Richard picked up the book in Darcy’s lap and examined it.
“Perhaps you ought to do more than pretend to read novels. Anybody who reads them knows that it would be excessively romantic if I were to go to her in the rain, perhaps with my damp shirt clinging to my chest—if there were sufficient thunder and lightning, we should be most passionately obliged to wed immediately—perhaps a few ghosts in the hotel would be so overwhelming that she would swoon directly into childbed.”
“That is vulgar—how dare you.”
“And now you are a valiant defender of ladies’ virtue? Shocking that the fairer sex is not falling at your feet.”
Darcy was at the end of his patience. “It is no shock that you are acting quite the ass, Richard!”
“I am only bored and annoyed at your stubbornness.”
“If you are in want of occupation, perhaps you might try reading. I presume you do know how.”
“Read a novel? Yes, and then I shall mend my bonnet!”
A wicked smile began to tug at Darcy’s lips. “Scoff all you like, but I will have something to say tomorrow at Mrs. Bevan’s reading, and you will have only your japes to recommend you to the ladies.”
“A mark ever in my favor. But I suppose you must genuinely enjoy novels, else one might suggest your interest in them now is only meant to impress Anne tomorrow. But that would be just the sort of ruse you should abhor.”
Darcy glowered, and Richard took a few steps toward the door. “Well, Miss Bennet seemed very fond of Mrs. Bevan’s novels. Perhaps I shall go and ask if I might borrow one.”
“I hope you would not flirt with her on a lark, if you mean nothing by it. From what I understood of her circumstances when we met in Meryton, she is no heiress—and her uncle has children of his own to consider.”
“Darcy, you snob!” Richard guffawed. “I have the Scottish pile you were so good as to improve for me during Georgie’s ordeal.”
Darcy frowned, speaking his thought aloud in a moment of regrettable pique. “It would be a pity to confine such a bright, warm creature to such a cold, remote place.”
“Indeed it would,” Richard agreed with a grin. “But I could always sell the place and invest the profits here.”
Darcy set the book aside and gaped at his cousin. “You are serious.”
Again Richard shrugged. “There are any number of pretty girls here in Sanditon, as she is as good as any of them. Perhaps one with more money would be better, but I am not handsome enough to be as picky as that.”