Chapter 19 #3
“Thankfully, yes. If your mother had begun explaining the camellias, we should all be there still. Lady Honoria was also giving us her views on the Italian school. It would have been uncivil to leave in the middle.”
“It was three-quarters of an hour, Milton,” Richard said.
“You escaped easily enough,” Milton said, and then turned to Darcy. “Your mother’s parties are very well managed.” He ignored his brother and poured himself a glass of punch. “Every guest seems to be exactly where she wants them.”
“Nearly every guest,” Richard said.
Milton looked across the room. “What do you mean?”
“Lyle wandered into the wrong corner,” Richard said. “I was about to restore him to his proper place, but Darcy was there first.”
Milton’s brows rose. “Was he?”
“Yes,” Richard said. “Lyle was standing before Miss Elizabeth, not allowing her egress. He was making himself remarkably . . . inconvenient.”
Milton glanced from one cousin to the other. “And you removed him?”
“No, but Darcy nearly pitched the man through a window. And he did remove Miss Elizabeth. Lyle wisely removed himself.”
Milton looked at Darcy with some interest.
“It was not so dramatic as all that,” Darcy grumbled. He had not even seen Richard, but the man did have a talent for making himself invisible when he wished.
“Perhaps not,” Richard said. “But I will confess I felt a little de trop. One does not like to arrive ready to provide rescue and discover the work already done.”
Milton sipped his punch. “Rather inconsiderate of you, Darcy.”
Darcy looked at them both. “Have you finished?”
“Not at all,” Richard said cheerfully. “But as you are pretending not to enjoy it, we shall continue more slowly.”
From her place near the window, surrounded by her friends, Em was accepting a glass of wine from her husband. She smiled at Darcy. It was a knowing smile.
The party broke up around midnight, and George found him in the library before one. He appeared in the doorway with two glasses of Madeira.
“The wager is three weeks from tonight,” George said, setting both glasses on the table.
“What wager?”
“Whether Aldridge will speak before he leaves for Berkshire. Lord Matlock has put five guineas on before, as has Milton. Richard does not think he will speak at all.”
“Richard is naturally contrary.”
“Yes, it is one of his finest qualities.” George settled into the chair opposite as he had done countless times before. “Em is very observant, and she found your behaviour tonight . . . intriguing.”
“Your wife finds everything intriguing.”
“She does, which makes her intriguing.” George picked up his glass. “She saw you watching for Miss Elizabeth. Your mother saw what Em saw, but she told me how pleased she was that you were making amends. Em does not believe that you are making amends.”
“George—”
George only smiled. “Come, Darcy. Em is quite right, you may as well admit it. I watched you act the dutiful host all evening. You greeted everyone, including Lady Sefton, found chairs for dowagers, spoke gravely to men who were not half as clever as they believe themselves—and inevitably, your eyes went back to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy did not reply.
“It might have been nothing,” George went on. “A man may survey a room, of course. A host must know where his guests are. But according to my wife, there was a time when you were looking for someone in particular and later returned with Miss Elizabeth on your arm.”
“Lyle was making himself objectionable. I was escorting Miss Elizabeth back to the party.”
“Yes. That is exactly what Richard told me just now. And Em replied that Miss Elizabeth had appeared grateful.”
Despite himself, Darcy smiled.
“There,” George said. “Proof you are still capable of higher feelings.”
“It does not matter, for Miss Elizabeth does not . . .” Darcy sighed. “I suppose you mean to tell my mother?”
“Good God, no. I value my domestic peace.” George glanced out towards the hall. “Em has set a wager of her own with Milton, and she will be very unhappy if I spoil it for her.”
“A wager?”
“Do not ask me the terms. I am not allowed to reveal them. I am merely allowed to observe, report, and occasionally be wrong—so long as I am wrong only in ways that amuse her.”
Darcy did not answer.
“Your mother is unusually distracted of late, or she would have noticed before now. She is, however, very pleased with the evening.”
“My mother is always pleased with her evenings.” Darcy sipped his drink. “Does she know about this wager of yours?”
“It is Em’s wager for once, not mine. And your mother does not gamble, as you know; she considers it beneath her.” George rose to leave, then paused at the door. “Shall I tell her you were a credit to the family this evening?”
“Tell her whatever you like, George.”
“I always do,” George said. He looked at Darcy, his easy smile still in place, but with something more thoughtful beneath.
Three weeks. He might have apologised tonight had Miss Elizabeth been in any condition to hear it. But she had not been. He could not wait much longer, though, for he was running out of time.