Chapter Seventeen
His hopes were not realized. Forty guests sat down to dinner.
Mr. Darcy’s place had been set some six people away from Lizzy’s spot.
Jane, more fortunate than Lizzy, sat next to Mr. Bingley.
Miss Bingley sat across from Mr. Darcy. Lizzy observed her watching him often, sparkling overmuch in her lively conversation.
She hopes to make him notice her. In spite of her efforts, he is politely minding his partner to his left and right.
Lizzy, following his example, conversed with the gentleman on her right, and then switched to the one on her left after a time.
She had met them both at other functions.
One had a whole pack of hunting dogs and the other one nurtured a flock of peafowl.
They talked about their animals, and Lizzy heartily thanked God that her mother could not hear their conversations.
Once the men rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley joined the Bennet sisters where they sat staring out the vast windows at the night sky where they could view the comet in the northwestern sky, its forked tail trailing upwards across twenty-five percent of the sky.
“Did you enjoy our meal, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy asked.
Lizzy looked up at him and noticed that Miss Bingley threaded her way toward them through the other guests.
“I enjoyed it excessively,” she replied. “And yourself?”
“Yes, indeed. I enjoy a good curry. I have eaten at Sake Dean Mahomed’s Hindoostane Coffee House. It is in Portman Square, London—it opened earlier this year. Lord and Lady Wulfrun spent time in India in the 1780s. They must have developed a taste for their cuisine.”
“I see. I found it spicy, but warming,” Lizzy observed. Miss Bingley had reached them so Lizzy turned to her. “What did you think of the curry, Miss Bingley?”
“I found it immensely flavorsome.” She smiled broadly and took Mr. Darcy’s arm as though she owned him.
Lizzy stiffened, and managed to say, “I quite agree,” with tolerable composure in spite of how much she wished to force Miss Bingley to release Mr. Darcy’s arm.
“Lord Wulfrun’s chef has a way with the saffron rice, as well,” Mr. Darcy said, deftly extricating his arm from Miss Bingley’s grasp, by turning to look at where their host stood in front of the viewing windows. “Ah, it appears Lord Wulfrun does, indeed, mean to present a small lecture on comets.”
Lizzy’s heart warmed when Mr. Darcy shifted his position so he stood closer to her while turning his attention to their host. She could scarcely pay heed to Lord Wulfrun’s excellent explanation of heavenly bodies, so engrossed was she in the feeling she experienced standing near to Mr. Darcy.
Even Miss Bingley’s supercilious sniff could not distract Lizzy from her awareness of Mr. Darcy.
Her hand down near her hip, Mary inconspicuously flapped the appendage, drawing Lizzy’s attention. She looked from the hand up to Mary’s face, a frown tugging her brows together. Mary exchanged a meaningful look with Lizzy, gazing at her, and then at their host.
I assume she wishes me to concentrate on the lecture. Does she realize how difficult I am finding the effort? She cannot possibly understand.
To please Mary, Lizzy schooled her own countenance into one of polite interest, listening in time to learn that the comet had a split tail. She peered beyond her host out into the night sky, noticing this phenomenon for the first time.
“When you get your chance to view the comet through my telescope, you will see that there are even more striations visible through magnifications,” Lord Wulfrun promised them.
He waited while everyone’s appreciative sighs died away, and then he said, “I will take four or five individuals with me at a time. They will return in fifteen minutes and send the next group up to my observatory.”
Mr. Darcy leaned over to quietly say, “Miss Elizabeth, I have obtained for us a position in the first group. Bingley and Miss Bennet, as well as Miss Mary, will be the others in our group.”
“Well done, Mr. Darcy,” Lizzy said, grinning in pleasant anticipation. “But what about Miss Bingley?”
“She told me she has no interest in a close-up view of the comet,” he explained. Mr. Darcy took her elbow, and Mary’s elbow, and directed them through the other guests, whom Lady Wulfrun had begun to form into groups for parlor games.
From behind them, Mr. Bingley cheerfully, though quietly, said, “Caroline is tired of the comet.”
“Astonishing,” Mary said in her straightforward way.
“I agree,” said Mr. Bingley.
Darcy led their little group up a set of stairs to a landing, and then up another flight of stairs.
Lord Wulfrun prattled the entire way about all the amazing things he had viewed through his telescope.
A footman stood next to an open door on the final landing.
He stiffened slightly and bowed his head to his master.
“Timothy,” Lord Wulfrun said to the young man, “as we discussed before, when this group comes out, take them back to the drawing room and lead the next group upstairs.”
“Yes, my lord,” the footman said, bowing his head once more.
Soon, they all stood in the most amazing, circular room, containing a desk, some chairs, several book cases, and a work table.
Small porthole-like windows—sixteen in total—lined the bottom of the wall in a single file, a mere foot above the parquet floor.
The navy-blue smooth plaster walls had been painted with tiny gold stars.
The dome ceiling rose above them, being approximately thirty feet at its apex.
A portion of the roof had been slid back, revealing the night sky.
“This is my telescope,” Lord Wulfrun announced unnecessarily.
He looked at his guests from beneath beetled brows.
“My instrument has been calibrated to show the comet. Kindly refrain from touching it. Simply lean over, fit your eye to this piece here, without leaning on it, you understand, and look at the wonder that is the Great Comet of 1811.” He beamed at them, losing his intense expression. “Ladies first.”
Miss Bennet looked first. Darcy could see the awe on her face and knew that Lord Wulfrun must be pleased with her reaction. Miss Elizabeth viewed the comet next.
“Goodness,” she said, straightening. “I have never looked through a telescope before. I had no idea the difference it would make. Mary, you will be thrilled, I am sure.”
Miss Mary and Miss Elizabeth exchanged places. Darcy welcomed her return to his side, as though she belonged there.
“I can see the multiple facets of the forked tail,” Miss Mary said in an excited, though hushed tone. “What a great size the comet must be.” After a few minutes, she stepped away, waving at the eyepiece. “Mr. Bingley?”
“Oh, right you are,” Bingley said, using exaggerated care in taking Miss Mary’s place. He only took a moment for his turn before he stepped away. “Darcy?”
Darcy left Miss Elizabeth’s side and positioned himself to look through the eyepiece. He caught his breath. “Even though it is magnified, the comet does not appear to be moving,” he observed.
“The human eye cannot measure linear speed,” Lord Wulfrun explained. “Instead, it measures angular speed. The angle between us and the comet is so miniscule at our end, that we cannot measure it.”
“I see,” Darcy said, straightening. “Thank you, my lord. We will move on so the next group might have their turn.”
“You are most welcome, most welcome,” their host said.
*
Georgiana said good night to her cousin and turned in the direction of her bedchamber.
She had thought to stay awake until Fitz returned, but she could not keep her eyes open.
Cousin Douglas had done his best to beat her at backgammon, but she had unusual luck when it came to dice games.
She could not beat him at chess, though.
After opening her bedchamber door, she said, “I am going to bed early tonight, Farley.”
“I see that, miss,” the plump middle-aged maid said, bustling toward her. “I haven’t brought up yer hot milk, yet, miss.”
“I do not want any hot milk tonight,” Georgiana said, shaking her head. “I just finished some milk tea. I daresay that is what brought on my yawns.”
“No doubt, miss,” Farley said, helping her off with her gown.
“I cannot wait for my puppy to come and live with me,” Georgiana said, holding up her arms and helping as much as Farley permitted.
“She’ll make a lively companion, miss.”
“You do not mind, do you?”
Farley frowned at her. “Mind? Why should I, miss? I always loved me a dog. All me life we’ve had three or four dogs about the farm. Right useful they are. We’ll train it right fer the house, miss.”
“Yes, we will,” Georgiana said, grinning and daydreaming. “Mary Bennet suggested I change Flower’s name to Flora. It is almost the same, but less like a name picked by a child.”
“It’s all in the sound of yer voice, miss. Leastwise, that’s what me pa used to say. He says you can even call’em meathead and they’ll come running if you use the right voice.”
Georgiana chuckled. “I have heard the same.”
“Now, you wash yerself, and then we’ll have yer nightrail on you, miss.”
Farley gathered up the discarded clothes while Georgiana washed. After drying herself, she held up her arms so Farley could slip her pristine white cotton nightrail over her head.
“There you go, miss,” Farley said.
“I mentioned to you that I want to learn how to dress myself,” Georgiana began. She paused when Farley tutted. Georgiana attempted to placate her. “I know such a skill is unnecessary as long as I have you—and I hope to have you until you retire—I pray you know that, Farley, dear.”
“Yes, miss.” Her maid’s voice sounded wooden.