Chapter 40
Mrs Gardiner read the card in her hand.
Miss Caroline Bingley, Grosvenor Square
She knew exactly what the visit portended—not only the script of the play but the denouement. She debated whether to entertain the ill use of her time, but her concern for Jane’s welfare decided for the encounter. She nodded to her housekeeper.
The over-dressed, over-adorned young woman who entered the parlour quickly lost the battle to hide her distaste for her surroundings.
“Mrs Gardiner, thank you for your invitation.”
“My invitation?” Mrs Gardiner drew back her chin. “I cannot understand you, Miss...” She looked to the card, “Bingley.”
The young lady sat and looked round the room. “What a quaint salon you have.”
She was quickly reaching her tolerance with the uninvited young lady. “What do you want, Miss Bingley?”
“Tea, please. With cream, not milk.”
“You mistake me, ma’am. I have not offered tea, nor do I intend to do so until my invited callers arrive.” Mrs Gardiner frowned. “What is the reason for your call?”
Miss Bingley appeared affronted. “I have come in my brother’s interest. The Bingley family seeks to align itself with your relation, Miss Bennet. I am sure you can see the advantage of a match with our wealth and standing,” the lady said smugly. “I hesitated at Charles’s first telling of your niece, but as Miss Bennet is my brother’s wish, I cannot but support him.”
Mrs Gardiner stared at the creature, exhaled a cleansing breath, and stood. “You may see yourself out.”
“Whatever do you mean, madam?” The lady stared at her, wide-eyed in shock, but remained in her chair.
“I see you have done your research, Miss Bingley, but only in a superficial manner. You know my niece’s name and her sponsor. You may know of her sponsor’s family and a connexion or two. You do not know me or my husband. Nor do you know of my niece’s father.”
When Miss Bingley finally rose, Mrs Gardiner put her hand upon the lady’s back and guided her through the vestibule.
“I shall give you fair warning.” She led her out the front door. “Cease these actions. Cease importuning my niece and remain in your sphere. If you or your brother continue in this manner, you will rue the day you removed from Scarborough.”
She calmly closed the door.
At the conclusion of Sunday’s church service, all ventured to the afternoon’s entertainment at Darcy House. The large parlour had been rearranged to host dual chess matches. Two sofas flanked both sides of the competitive field. The men grouped to the far side of the room; the blazing hearth warmed the ladies.
“If I may have your attention,” announced Gardiner. In his hand was a black chapeau claque. “The four players’ names are within.” With a goodly twiddle of his fingers, he reached in and handed his wife a folded paper.
“Match one, playing white is... Lord Matlock.” Light applause accompanied his bow to Mrs Gardiner.
Gardiner continued his theatrics.
“Match one, playing black is... Darcy.” Miss Darcy’s enthusiastic applause brought laughter, which grew amongst the attendees at the earl’s scowl.
“Let us hope today is a new dawn, Brother,” said Lady Catherine. “Your last victory over Darcy was in which century?”
Mrs Gardiner continued. “Match two, playing white is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” The ladies waved their hands in a bluestocking show of support. All laughed at their antics.
“Which leaves George Darcy playing the second match as black. Competitors, assume your places.”
The gathered party enjoyed several hours of whispered conversation as they observed the four dedicated chess players ply their expertise. As expected, the earl stood nearly two hours later, scowled, and offered his hand. Darcy rose, grasped his hand, and nodded. The pair walked from the table towards the sideboard.
Half an hour later, a gasp broke the quiet air when George Darcy stood and sheepishly offered his opponent his hand. Resounding applause thundered from the ladies as Elizabeth stood and accepted his surrender.
“Thank you, sir. I enjoyed our time together.”
He pursed his lips. “I feel like a rodent you batted back and forth between your catlike paws.”
Elizabeth laid her hand upon her breast. “Sir, I would never supplant the role of an expert mouser.” She leant towards him. “Though, I have made a study of their habits.”
“Lizzy, do not tease the man,” warned Jane. The party laughed again as Clarke and a pair of footmen rearranged the room for the match final.
“We shall crown our champion after the evening meal,” announced Lady Matlock. The room emptied as the party adjourned to change.
Dinner was a lively affair. Although the ladies outnumbered the gentlemen, none of the dining partners were strangers. Lady Matlock had arranged the four younger diners—Mr Darcy, Jane, Elizabeth, and Miss Darcy—to group in the centre of the table. The two chess finalists sat together; Jane and Miss Darcy were directly across the table.
Gardiner quickly picked up on the eye signals exchanged between Lady Matlock and Lady Catherine. He caught George Darcy’s attention and nodded towards the ladies, which resulted in a shoulder shrug. Jane caught his eye, eyebrows raised and a small smile on her lips. Understanding his niece saw—and was enjoying—the attraction between Darcy and Elizabeth as he did, he nodded and returned his attention to his plate.
The chess finalists were lost to their party, enraptured with each other and their dinner conversation. Smiles accompanied blushes. Chuckles complemented their raised eyebrows. They shared snickers when their heads leant towards each other.
Had the dinner included more than close family, I would expect a forthcoming announcement thought Gardiner
After dinner, Darcy escorted Miss Elizabeth to the chair sitting white. She will appreciate my gallantry, no doubt. However, rather than sitting, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling with challenge.
“Pardon me, sir. Our seats have yet to be drawn.”
He gave her an earnest look. “As a gentleman, it is upon my honour that you play first.”
“I would think, as a gentleman, you would offer a lady the option rather than choose for her.”
“You wilfully misunderstand me, madam.”
“And you choose not to respect my ability to sit either side of the table.”
Darcy, struggling to form his response, ignored the chuckles he heard from his father and uncle.
“Can we not allow chance to determine an outcome?” asked Miss Elizabeth. “Or must you impose your judgment over precedent?” Her eyes sparkled with challenge.
“Precedent? You misunderstand me,” he parried. “I only sought to allow you the opportunity to seek advantage.”
“Ah, you have determined your ability superior to mine before sitting at the table?” Her voice held the same hint of mirth he saw in her eyes.
He noticed Georgiana’s shocked expression. Miss Bennet grasped her hand. “It shall be fine. Lizzy prefers having her opinion solicited,” she whispered.
Darcy turned to Lord Matlock and his father, who immediately looked down at their shoes. Does no one else see she is teasing me? Sighing, he recognised his error. I am obviously in the wrong. I shall endeavour to learn how at another time. Chivalry is never ill-timed.
He turned back to an expectant-looking brunette with sparkling eyes. “I humbly beg your pardon, madam.” He bowed deeply. “You are correct. I assumed where I should not have. Please forgive my transgression.”
Miss Elizabeth held out her hand; he grasped it, holding onto it a moment longer than polite. She gazed up at him and smiled.
“Apology accepted, sir.” She turned to Mrs Gardiner. “What is the seating?”
Mr Gardiner handed Mrs Gardiner the paper drawn from the hat. “Sitting white... Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Miss Elizabeth’s face reddened.
This will not do. I have put her into an embarrassing situation all of my own making. “Allow me to escort you to your seat, Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy quickly regained her hand and kissed it. The room applauded. When Miss Elizabeth sat and her smile reached her eyes, he swallowed and took his place. I am to play against those eyes?
The match ended in a stalemate.