16 #2
Another shrug, another toss of the curly dark hair.
“Who knows. It was just a game, useful because I had nowhere else to go.
I live from day to day. I do not worry about the future.
The Colonel is nice to me, kind, like an uncle.
He buys me pretty things. It is nice house but lonely and oh, so boring!
The Colonel he keeps wanting me to meet the old Earl, but I do not wish to do that. The game becomes serious and is spoilt.
“So, I plan to return to Italy, but first, because I am curious because of the scandal of their marriage that the old lady related to me many times, I want to meet the Darcys and see Pemberley. Then you arrive, Jane and I meet my dear Andrew and everything changes.”
There was a silence following her last statement: even Bennetta seemed lost for words. Of everyone in the room, Celeste seemed the least worried by the situation and finally Andrew spoke.
“Mr Darcy, are you intending to take this matter any further? I appreciate that what Celeste has done is stupid and wicked but she meant no real harm. If we had not met and fallen in love, then she would have enjoyed her time in Dorset, then returned to Italy with the few guineas she had saved.”
Without thinking, Jane turned in her chair, saw the expression on Archer’s face and for a second they looked at each other in complete accord.
Andrew was a dear, trusting man, too trusting if he genuinely believed that Celeste would have calmly gone back to life of servitude in Italy when she had tasted what it was like to be part of a rich and socially acceptable family.
But love was blind and his feelings for her were only too clear.
Elizabeth crossed the room to her husband before he could reply and lay a hand on his arm.
“My dear, I know you are angry, and rightly so.
I am, too. But no real damage has been done.
I know you intended to formally introduce Celeste to our friends at the ball, but luckily that now need not happen.
To all who enquire, she is just a friend of the family from Italy who is now engaged to be married to Dr Moore.
“We will write to the Earl and put his mind at rest, inform him that there was a misunderstanding, perhaps because of language difficulties. Celeste is not a Fitzwilliam, does not pretend to be one and he need have no more worries about the terms of the old family wills.”
“My grandmother is extremely fond of Andrew,” Archer said.
“Indeed, she has always liked him more than me since we met as schoolboys! I think, once her initial annoyance has passed, that she will welcome Celeste to stay at her home until the wedding. Indeed, I have an idea that she will not be completely surprised at the news.”
“Do you mean she has guessed that Celeste is an imposter?” Bennetta’s eyes shone at the intrigue.
Archer ran his hand through his dark hair. “I would not go that far, but she has commented to me of her surprise that Celeste knows so little about Sicily, where she supposedly grew up.”
Celeste nodded. “I have never been to Sicily! It was difficult when Lady Goddard and my dear Andrew asked me questions. But now, all is settled. I will pack and move to Mayfair. I will apologise most humbly to the good Lady Goddard. It will all be delightful.”
She had no sooner finished speaking than a bell could be heard ringing and the housekeeper appeared—luncheon was now served.
Mr Darcy said he would have his in his study and Elizabeth did not try to persuade him otherwise.
She knew he had been deeply distressed by the whole affair but hopefully with Celeste soon out of Matlock House she would be able to calm his anger.
It had obviously slipped his mind that with Anne about to become engaged to Archer, this was not the time for a falling out between the two households.
The drawing room emptied except for Jane who still sat, gazing at the chess board, wondering just who was going to tell Colonel Fitzwilliam what had happened. Her mind was racing; she could see no way of reporting the news without causing heartache and distress.
Archer turned in the doorway and saw that she had not moved and the anguish written on her face alarmed him.
Surely Jane should now be delighted—the girl marrying Andrew was not a member of the Fitzwilliam family.
Celeste’s lowly background was surely no obstacle to their union.
Andrew’s family had no social standing to lose.
He walked across to the chess table and picked up one of the pieces, the white marble queen. “You do not seem over-joyed at the news, Jane. I thought you would be pleased to discover that Celeste is not a Fitzwilliam, that she is definitely poor enough in fortune for Andrew.”
“Pleased? I confess I am at a loss, Sir, as to why you should think that.”
“When we were in the Burlington Arcade, if you remember, you made it clear that you had the strongest feelings of repugnance against such a match.”
Jane busied herself with putting the pieces back in their neat ranks. “No, Sir, you are wrong. There was a perfectly valid reason for my dislike of the marriage. That reason is still there and it has nothing to do with Andrew coming from a poor family!”
Archer wanted to smile. When Jane lost her temper, she was enchantingly pretty, her gentle eyes snapped and sparkled and a rosy pink flushed her cheeks. He wanted, badly, to kiss her.
“So as I have obviously misjudged you, I ask for forgiveness. Can you tell me the reason or is it a secret?”
She sighed; her vow to Celeste was obviously no longer needed and at least she could take one weight off her mind.
“Celeste told me that she and Colonel Fitzwilliam had an understanding. That they were to be married, but that it was a secret until he told his family. She said he had misgivings about the difference in their ages, but that did not worry her. So you see, I was sworn not to talk about it to anyone. I was very concerned that she would turn from Andrew as soon as my godfather appeared in London and that your friend would be bitterly hurt.”
There was a short silence then, “I honour you for your strength of will in keeping such a promise. I do not know if I could have done the same, thinking I might lose your respect and affection.”
Jane bent her head so he would not see the tears that were forming, willing herself not to cry. “Your respect is something I was saddened beyond belief to lose. I am grateful that you now know the truth of the matter and we can continue as we were before.”
Archer tossed the queen from hand to hand. “And my affection, Jane. Were you sad to lose that, too?”
“Of course. Are we not to be family soon?”
“You mean Anne?”
A quick instinctive flick of her fingers and the chess pieces went rolling. “Of course I mean Anne! I had not imagined that you would be brave enough to take on Bennetta! I suppose your engagement will be announced at the ball? Everyone expects it, especially my sister.”
Archer began to rearrange the board. “That distresses me. I have never said a word to her to give her that impression. Other people have done that. I am so tired of behaving exactly how everyone believes is right. Look, each of these pieces has a set path and the players know exactly what knight, pawn, bishop or queen can or can’t do.
I never cared for the game. I wish to make my own rules in life.
I feel that I have always had to put other people’s wishes first. Jane—look at me! Or don’t you dare?”
Stung at the accusation, Jane flung back her head and found herself gazing into the dark eyes that haunted her dreams, eyes that sent a message she refused to read.
“I, too, have always followed the instructions given to me by loving friends and family. In that, I admit, we are alike. But we both know that we have very different paths in life to follow. They do not coincide. They cannot. You have a magnificent career ahead of you—why your grandmother believes you may end up as prime minister! I am but a mere pawn on the chessboard, you are a knight, at least, possibly a king.”
“Even so, a pawn can capture a king, if it is brave enough.”
“I have plenty of courage, Sir. But I am not foolhardy!”
Before she could say another word he pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her, stopping her from speaking, from breathing, from thinking.
All she wanted was to wind her arms around him, bury her fingers in his hair and return his kisses with all the power of her being.
When he finally let her go, she was shaking.
“Foolhardy? Yes, I suppose loving a fellow who would work long hours, often be away from home attending at the law courts might seem so to you, as would loving a man who no longer had the promise of money to fund his career. And you do love me, Jane, I know you do. Why do you deny it? You could not return my kisses if you did not.”
“I think any girl would be proud to be your wife, Sir,” she whispered, “And as you very well know, there is one Darcy who will be only too pleased to be given that honour, thus safe-guarding your career and income. It is foolish and unkind of you to play games with me when the moves on the board are already set in motion.”
“And is that your final word? Well, at least I know where I stand and what I should do. Thank you, Miss Jane, for making things clear to me.” And with a glancing blow, he scattered the chessmen onto the floor and left the room.