10 #4
‘So that is the reason for his visit,’ Jane thought angrily.
‘That makes sense. He could quite easily have sent a note with his compliments to say goodbye. He is alarmed at Dr Moore’s obvious growing feelings for Celeste and does not approve of the connection.
He obviously wishes to take him away from her influence.
How I wish I could tell him that his fears are unfounded, that Celeste is promised elsewhere. ’
“He has escorted Celeste into Dorchester, but I am sure they will be back soon.”
Archer turned away from the vista of wet grass and trees and glanced across the room to where Jane was sitting, her loosely bound hair catching light from the flickering flames of the fire.
“And are you looking forward to your time in London, Miss Jane? No doubt there will be much entertaining, meeting old friends, enjoyment of theatre and exhibitions.”
“Our time in London is always busy. I know Bennetta is apparently determined to hold a winter ball. My younger sister is never satisfied until she has arranged a dance whenever she possibly can.”
“It is always a busy time in town—country dwelling never seems so attractive during the winter months and people find their homes in London much more to their liking.”
“We are, of course, lucky to have the choice in such matters. Most people do not.” Jane hadn’t meant to sound argumentative, especially to a guest, but as usual there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that brought all her faults in manners to the surface.
“In that you are quite correct. We see the world from a position of privilege, our carriages carry us from house to house, but do we ever look out to see how those less fortunate than us survive during these difficult times. I think not.”
“Well, Sir, my father pays good wages to all who work for him and our family does all it can to give aid and succour to those in the district whom we know have fallen on hard times. Why, Mama regularly distributes soup, bread, cheese and clothes and no beggar is turned away from the Pemberley door without a meal and a sixpence in his pocket!”
Archer smiled gravely at the indignation in her voice.
“I am certain the Darcys do all they can, and while I honour them for it, it is but a drop in the ocean. I am fighting for things to change on a larger scale, for the basic wage of a labourer to be increased to a sum where he can afford to at least buy bread for his family and does not need to steal it.”
Jane fell silent for a second or two, impressed by the passion in his voice. How interesting it was to listen to a man who had such views. Most of the men she met never talked of serious matters in front of ladies.
“I think it says in the Bible, does it not, that he who has two coats should give unto his neighbour one. Perhaps the world would be a better place if everyone remembered that.”
Archer crossed the room and stood examining a chess set that was laid out in an intricate pattern. “Why Miss Jane, you sound quite the philosopher.”
“And you sound surprised that I should have a serious thought in my head. I may not have had your depth of education, Mr Maitland, but I have been taught to think and consider as many aspects of the world around me as possible.”
He bowed his head, then smiled across at her. “I stand corrected. And are you a lover of this game of chess. It is a splendid set, beautifully carved.”
She shook her head. “No, Sir. I have never cared for the game but my godfather is, I believe an excellent player, as is my papa. They write their moves to each other by letter, so as you can imagine, one game takes many weeks to complete.”
“This game is at an interesting point. The King is imprisoned on all sides. Only the Queen can rescue him.” He stood gazing down at the game in silence, then seemed to recall where he was and turned back to Jane.
“Now I come to think of it, I recall that your sister mentioned that you are a great reader and spend many hours in the Pemberley library. I am sure there are books in that collection that I have not yet studied.”
“Then I am sure that Anne will be only too happy to invite you to browse through them if you are ever in the neighbourhood.”
“And you, Miss Jane, would you invite me to Pemberley?” There was a silence: the room seemed to have grown very warm, Jane could feel a flush mounting her cheeks.
She must push her chair back from the fire, must tear her gaze away from those dark eyes which held a message, that to her dread, she thought she understood.
Oh, she must be wrong. His eyes said he had feelings for her that would not be denied by sense or logic, feelings that she was only too aware she was returning in her own expression.
She couldn’t breathe. This man was to be her brother-in-law—she could not possibly be in love with him.
She disliked him! He was arrogant, self-centred, opinionated and yet, with a flood of self-knowledge she realised what she had once felt for Digby was a pale ghost in comparison to what she felt for Archer Maitland.
Archer felt his head swimming—why wouldn’t she reply, why wouldn’t she see that he wanted her to invite him to her home, not Anne? Hell, this was madness, what was he thinking? He could not possibly be in love with Jane Darcy!
Then a log fell crashing into the grate, the door swung open bringing Susannah and a maid with a tea tray and the moment was gone.