6. Chapter Six
Upon their entry into the spacious parlor, Darcy had witnessed Mrs. Bennet give an almost imperceptible nod toward the far corner of the room to Miss Hamilton, and her obliging daughter skillfully guided the Bingley siblings to a grouping of chairs, soon joined by Miss Lucas. By this time, Ash had entered the room and was brought forward to the lady of the house by her smiling husband.
“Mrs. Bennet, I do not believe you made the acquaintance of Mr. Darcy’s cousin. He arrived late at the assembly and skillfully hid himself on the dance floor for most of the evening.” Mrs. Bennet smiled at her husband’s brand of teasing and waited expectantly. “May I present to you Edmund Fitzwilliam, Viscount Ashton of the House of Matlock in London and Wyndhaven in Derbyshire.”
Darcy and his cousin froze in place over the fact Bennet knew Ashton had been at the assembly and who he was. His cousin recovered quickly and gave Mrs. Bennet an elegant bow.
“Mrs. Bennet.”
“My Lord Ashton,” she replied. “How is your mother and father? I have not been in their company since…” She glanced at her husband and frowned slightly. “When would I have last seen Lord and Lady Matlock, Mr. Bennet?”
“Not since ‘91, my love. They attended Elizabeth and Trenton’s baptismal service. You told me Lady Matlock gave you beautiful silk buntings for their christening.”
“She did indeed.” Mrs. Bennet sighed and looked at her good friend, Lady Lucas. “Do you remember, Martha? They were the perfect shades of pink and blue. I have preserved them in their memory boxes.”
“I do remember. Lady Matlock and I have enjoyed a healthy correspondence for many years and the earl hosted Sir William and I when we were in Town for his investiture,” Lady Lucas offered, letting the cousins know she was aware of everything.
Darcy absorbed these little details as information about the family fell into place. Trenton, the current earl, was Elizabeth’s twin.
“May I ask about your son, Mrs. Bennet?”
He was rewarded with a wide smile from that lady.
“My dear Trenton is at Cambridge but will be home for Christmas. As a family, we always celebrate our Lord’s birth together.” Mrs. Bennet held his gaze. “You look so much like your cousin, my late husband. The resemblance is remarkable.”
Her hand shook as she brought her fingers to her lips and Mr. Bennet immediately laid a comforting hand upon her shoulder.
“There, there, Franny. Be thankful your memories are happy ones. Also, how blessed are we in that the men in your family are all handsome fellows?”
“I am blessed, Thomas.” She placed her hand over his, still on her shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”
Darcy canted his head to one side and let his gaze move about the room, noting with satisfaction that Miss Hamilton’s earlier subtle maneuverings ensured the Bingley siblings did not hear anything the family did not wish to disclose – at this time. Her finesse in the operation was natural, something that had been practiced often and, if he were to hazard a guess, the closing of ranks by their neighbors gave a hint they were just as protective.
“Gentlemen, would you care to join me for stronger refreshments while the ladies discuss last night’s assembly?” Mr. Bennet offered to the room in general.
Before leaving the room, Darcy cast one last glance in the direction of Miss Elizabeth, noting her furrowed brow. He would like to think she had accepted his apologies – he suppressed a wry grin at an errant thought. No one in the rarefied sphere of the Beau Monde would ever entertain the idea of Fitzwilliam Darcy apologizing not once, but twice to a woman, nor dare to lay a wager for such an occurrence. A man would walk on the moon before anyone took up those odds.
Soon, the gentlemen found themselves in a spacious room Mr. Bennet liked to call his study. Decorated in masculine colors of rich browns and greens, the room was inviting and warm. Comfortable couches and chairs, made for a person to sink into and relax with a glass of port brandy, called to Darcy’s inner man.
He spied two chess tables. One already in play, and the other waiting for opponents to begin a game. The far wall, behind a sturdy desk, held four intricately carved bookcases, filled to almost overflowing with books of all shapes and sizes. His fingers itched to trace the bindings and discover what held the master of Longbourn’s interest. What reading material did his Elizabeth enjoy?
HisElizabeth?
He nearly groaned out loud. He loved her. How had this happened? He had always sworn he’d never fall in love. Also, there was a very wide chasm of hurt feelings to bridge after his gargantuan faux pas at Lady Montrose’s ball. A good start on the foundation was made at the assembly, but she still was not comfortable in his presence and one dance and supper did not constitute a courtship. At this rate, he would exceed Bingley’s record for being rash and undisciplined.
Mindful of the fact he was in the presence of her stepfather, who had proved himself to be alert and canny, Darcy shelved his wayward thoughts. When he was finally alone, he would make plans on how to change the young lady’s image of his character. Slow and steady would become his mantra.
The first week of November, the Bennet carriage pulled to a stop in front of Lucas Lodge, their door quickly opened by one of Sir William’s footmen. Given the abnormal drop in temperature, no one wished to stay in the frigid air longer than necessary.
“Come along, my dears,” Papa said after he handed out his wife and three eldest daughters. “Johnson wants to get the horses back to Longbourn and our warm stable.” He looked up at the carriage driver. “Come back in four hours. If there is a change, I shall have Sir William send a rider.”
With that, the carriage moved off and the Bennet quintet hurried into Lucas Lodge where Sir William awaited in the vestibule.
“Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, we are delighted you and your lovely daughters braved the cold to attend our dinner party.”
“What is a bit of frost between friends, eh, Lucas?”
“You are in luck. The Netherfield party arrived not ten minutes before you. Everyone is here and after a bit of visiting and comparing gowns, Lady Lucas will call for supper to be served.”
Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary continued to the main drawingroom, quickly finding Charlotte and joining her to catch up on all the latest news from Meryton. They had barely started conversing when Mr. Bingley and Viscount Ashton joined them.
Jane had been uniformly silent about the possibility of her having two beaux. The viscount, claiming familial connections, had swung by Longbourn several times in the past few weeks, ostensibly to visit with Papa, but it was not uncommon to find him in the parlor with the ladies as they sewed or took care of other small household tasks. On the other hand, Mr. Bingley only attended whenever anyone from Netherfield came for tea. It was during these visits Mr. Darcy also came tither and politely sat with Elizabeth, much to Miss Bingley’s chagrin.
Elizabeth’s musings were interrupted by a gasp from Jane, followed by a low chuckle over something the viscount said. The embers of Elizabeth’s sense of humor were stoked as she watched Mr. Bingley come to a slow realization his hunting field hosted another predator. Mr. Darcy showed no reaction, solidifying Elizabeth’s belief he was fully aware his cousin had been beating a path to Longbourn’s door.
She wondered why he did not join his cousin. Surely, if Viscount Ashton could lay claim to a familial connection – the reason he gave for his first surprising arrival just as they sat down to breakfast – then so could Mr. Darcy. He was as much a part of her father’s family as the viscount. His great-aunt, Lady Minerva Fitzwilliam-Hamilton, was her and Jane’s grandmother.
Awareness shivered across the back of her neck and she slowly turned to find the gaze of Mr. Darcy resting on their group. It would be foolhardy to imagine his attention was focused solely on her, even though he intimated as much at the assembly. Perhaps he was bored and she and Jane, along with the viscount, were the only people of rank he felt he could associate with.
Her brow furrowed.
That line of reasoning did not hold water as the taciturn gentleman was a good friend to Mr. Bingley. Granted, Mr. Bingley was very wealthy, but still… his roots were deep in trade. Her inner conflict was put into abeyance when Mr. Darcy joined them.
“Good evening, Miss Hamilton, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Good evening, Mr. Darcy,” she and Jane said in perfect unison.
Mr. Darcy turned to Mary.
“Pardon me, Miss Bennet. I did not see you. My cousin blocked you from my view.” He gave her a polite half-bow. “Good evening to you, Miss Bennet.”
Mary smiled in her shy way and returned the greeting before saying, “I am going to ask Charlotte if she minds me playing some music in the background before we dine.”
“That would be lovely,” Elizabeth enthused. “I do hope you play the song you have been working on this week.”
Mary ducked her head at her sister’s praise.
“I am not prepared to play that piece in public. Mayhap on our next gathering.”
“You enjoy playing the pianoforte, Miss Bennet?” Mr. Darcy asked.
“I do.”
“My sister, Georgiana, also loves to play that instrument. Have you had any instruction from one of the masters?”
“Papa invited Senor Giovanni to Longbourn last Autumn. He came for a few weeks to assess my ability and then I stayed with our aunt and uncle in town to further my instruction from him.”
Mr. Darcy’s eyebrows rose upon hearing the name of Mary’s music master.
“Senor Giovanni? My sister has longed to be tutored by him. You must have a rare talent, Miss Bennet. He is very particular in his choice of students.”
“I am aware and very humbled. He inspires me to work hard.”
“Her diligence has benefited us,” Elizabeth added. “Our family is treated to a concerto nearly every day.”
“I must make an effort to attend one of these impromptu musicales,” Mr. Darcy teased, never removing his gaze from Elizabeth.
She blinked and lowered her eyes to study the pattern of Lady Lucas’s rug. Confused by his sometimes cold then sometimes warm manners, she decided to take each day as it presented itself and look no further. Today saw a congenial Darcy at her side. Tomorrow he may revert to the gentleman who had no time, nor patience for the citizens of Meryton.
It was exasperating, these attempts to discern his moods. She was beginning to believe it easier when she thoroughly disliked him. Black and white. No gray areas to blur the lines, especially when he smiled, as he was at this very moment.
Vexing man!
Then… with the smallest of touches, his hand brushed hers. Her startled gaze flew to his face only to find his full attention focused completely on Jane and Mr. Bingley. Had she imagined the feather-like graze of his fingers? She shifted her attention back to their small gathering, only to feel the back of her hand being touched once more. Glancing down, she caught him ‘red-handed’ in the act, so to speak.
With a subtle flick of her wrist, she took her fan and tapped him smartly on the fingers, while clearing her throat so no one would hear the soft ‘whack’ of her fan.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said, not missing a beat. “Would you care for a glass of punch?”
She leveled a stern look, reminiscent of her first governess in his direction. He had the grace to gift her a small smile, confirming he was very aware of his flirtatious behavior.
“A glass of punch would be welcome. Thank you.”
“Allow me to escort you to the refreshment table. Then you may choose which punch you prefer.” As they walked away, her hand lightly resting on his forearm, he said in a low voice only she could hear. “I hope you choose the liquid punch and not a solid left hook to my jaw.”
She could not help herself; she laughed out loud. What was she to do with this most frustrating man?
Later in the evening, Charlotte opened the instrument and teased Elizabeth into playing. Much to their surprise, Miss Bingley hastened before them and began performing a complicated piece with great flare. Content to stand beside Mr. Darcy and listen to such exquisite playing she shivered when he leaned in to whisper, “I would rather have listened to you, Miss Elizabeth.”
About to tap his arm again with her fan, the discordant bang of the pianoforte keys drew their attention back to Miss Bingley, who glared over the instrument at them. No one, other than Elizabeth and Darcy, discerned the reason for her abrupt finish and no one wanted to ask. Miss Bingley had not made any friends within the environs of Meryton, so its citizens were willing to let her stew in her anger without offering comfort.
To the surprise of many, Elizabeth’s next youngest sister slid in beside Miss Bingley and began playing the piece exactly where she had left off. In her quiet manner, Mary said, “When I first began playing this song from memory, this exact passage gave me some difficulty. When I reach the third movement, can you resume playing or would you like me to continue?”
Miss Bingley slowly turned and stared at Mary, then down to where her fingers moved across the keyboard. It was plain to everyone that while Miss Bingley had been near perfect in her technique, she exhibited no emotion. Mary, on the other hand, caressed the keys, coaxing them into revealing their secrets and the increasing drop in conversation levels showed Miss Bingley the guests were aware of this fact.
“If you would please continue, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth thought the pernicious lady might leave her sister’s side, but she did not. Miss Bingley shifted on the seat to give Mary more room, seemingly content to let the music wash over her. All too soon, the song was finished and Mary simply clasped her hands on her lap and smiled at the light applause her playing had garnered. She rose from the bench and turned to face Miss Bingley.
“Thank you for beginning such a beautiful song. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed playing it.” Mary cast her gaze around and then said, “There is a lovely grouping of chairs and I would be delighted if you and your sister joined me.”
Unconsciously, Elizabeth held her breath, waiting for the cut Miss Bingley was sure to give her younger sister, then softly gasped when that lady also stood and smiled.
“My sister and I would gladly sit with you.”
Together they turned and strolled to a small alcove, Mrs. Hurst soon joining them.
“If I had not seen it, I would not believe it,” Mr. Darcy murmured.
“You and I both.” Elizabeth continued to watch the three ladies, chatting quietly. “What do you make of this?”
“The one thing Miss Bingley loves more than herself is music and your sister’s playing is exquisite. Her time with Senor Giovanni was well spent.”