Chapter 11 #2
“Oh look, Miss Darcy!” cried Miss Althea. “Heiress Tottle is rubbing against Miss Bennet. How extraordinary. I have observed that the cat tolerates few people save for your brother.”
Miss Wright’s mouth had an ugly sort of twist to it. “Perhaps Miss Bennet has the lingering smell of fish upon her person. What? Why do you all look at me so? If I am not mistaken, that is the very gown she wore at Cliff House when we dined there on Atlantic salmon.”
Two red splotches appeared on Miss Hughes’s cheeks, and she spoke with asperity.
“Miss Bennet would never wear at a dinner table the sort of gown that one puts on for a day of outdoor activities. And I can assure you, Miss Wright, that my aunt and uncle are capable of keeping an excellent cook. Neither my friend nor I have any reason to set foot in Mrs Poole’s kitchen. ”
“I do not remember saying that she did, Miss Hughes. I apologise if my remark was misunderstood. I simply meant that it would be a shame if Miss Bennet’s gown had an unnoticed stain upon it.
” Tapping a folded fan against her chin, Miss Wright narrowed her eyes and scrutinised Miss Elizabeth from head to toe.
“May I offer some honest advice, Miss Bennet? You would appear to better advantage in warm hues. That mauve-grey shade does not suit you at all.”
“Thank you. But, while in Wyman’s Cove, I shall continue wearing sombre gowns in deference to my friend’s profound sadness.”
Having previously held some estimation for Miss Wright, Darcy was mortified that his regard for her had been so ill bestowed. He opened his mouth to speak up, but her youngest sister did so first.
“Hannah, have you never wondered why Heiress Tottle looks at you so malevolently and hisses every time you get too close to her?”
“No. I cannot begin to imagine what goes on in that creature’s tiny brain, nor why she dislikes me so.” Her blue eyes shifted from her sister back to Miss Elizabeth. “But I do know that I do not like every person I meet, either.”
“Miss Wright, may I have your valued opinion on something?” At the lady’s regal nod, Miss Elizabeth continued.
“Do you suppose it wise for a person to take a decided dislike to someone she has just met? In my experience, first impressions are not always dependable.” She looked then directly at Darcy, and there was something in her words and in her contrite expression which his comprehension could not grasp.
Miss Wright unfolded her fan and waved it about. “Whatever a person loves or loathes is simply random choice or personal whim, is it not? Some people, Miss Bennet, simply do not like cats.”
“Therein lies the rub. Persecution of cats in the Middle Ages enabled rat and flea populations to flourish.” Miss Elizabeth scratched beneath Heiress Tottle’s chin, and a purr could be clearly heard across the room. “And we all know the result of that error of judgment, do we not?”
“That theory is debatable, Miss Bennet.” Darcy smiled in an attempt to abate the friction between the ladies.
In an apparently similar endeavour, Miss Hughes asked that any debate on the Black Death’s origins be deferred.
She then held up a pocket-sized book with a floral cover.
“Since we are all such intimate friends here”—a pointed look was directed at Miss Wright—“please allow me to explain these ‘friendship books’ that Miss Bennet and I have brought.”
Having sat through the explanation, Miss Margaret was the first to make quick entries in the two books. “Now, if you will kindly excuse me, I have made other arrangements.” With a bobbed curtsey and muslin skirts swishing, she left the sitting room.
Georgiana and the remaining two Miss Wrights then spent half an hour labouring over the pages within Miss Elizabeth’s and Miss Hughes’s books, filling them with Darcy knew not what.
At university, he had been familiar with what was known as an album amicorum, though he never owned one himself.
When requested for an entry by fellow students with whom he was acquainted, he merely conveyed his best wishes for the future and signed his name.
Would the ladies expect him to add entries in their books?
Afterwards, through a window, Darcy spotted the middle Wright daughter, in her riding habit, striding towards the stable.
It was blindingly clear that she found the company of horses preferable to that of people, which, to him, was completely understandable, at least in certain circumstances.
And he found himself wishing that Miss Wright might feel the same and decide to join her younger sister.
It was not the most auspicious thought to have about the lady he was supposed to be considering as his bride, but the woman no longer held any attraction at all. His disapproval of her general behaviour was sharpening into resentment, and in his esteem she had steadily lost ground.
And I thought a complete summer in Miss Wright’s company would be sufficient to make up my mind about marrying her.
Hah! It has taken a mere fraction of that time for her to quash any possibility of that ever happening.
To know the woman is to abhor the thought of becoming more intimately acquainted with her.
Any respect or admiration he once had for her was being supplanted by that for another lady, one who, in every particular, shared neither attributes nor features with the auburn-haired beauty.
Miss Elizabeth was rapidly becoming his greatest possibility of happiness and the height of his ambition. In comparison, what he had felt for Miss Wright was—he smiled to himself, recalling words spoken at Netherfield—only a slight, thin sort of inclination.
He could not, however, send Miss Wright packing straightaway. He would speak to Mr Wright first, then gently explain the situation to the gentleman’s eldest daughter. Surely she would understand.
As for his Elizabeth, he could no more think of her as ‘Miss’. He wanted to think of her as Mrs Darcy. There was no longer any question in Darcy’s mind regarding her suitability as his wife. And, of course, there is no question of her reception of my future addresses.
“Brother,” said Georgiana, rousing him from his reverie, “we have made entries in Miss Hughes’s and Miss Bennet’s friendship books and are ready to repair to the lawn for battledore and shuttlecock.
You agreed to attend and told me that you had a suggestion to make the activity a little more interesting. ”
The instant they all had risen from their seats, Miss Wright rushed towards Darcy, entwining her arm with his. “I am so looking forward to this silly game that I can scarcely contain myself.” Behind her delicate fan of ivory, mother-of-pearl, and silk, she appeared to be stifling a yawn.