Chapter Six #2
“You need not convince me of your virtuousness, Miss Darcy. If you have any further irreverent observations, you shall find me a very amenable audience—perhaps even a complicit participant.” Elizabeth gave the girl a playful wink.
Miss Darcy smiled shyly, fidgeting with her hands as the words tumbled out of her, “May I sit beside you at dinner? William meant to ask you—before he became… distracted—but I know he intends to remain close to Anne tonight, and I fear I might speak to her as candidly as I have done with you, which would not at all be helpful for my brother. I promised him I would not.”
“I would be delighted to have your company all evening, if you like.” Elizabeth gestured to a nearby table; being in the furthest corner from the entrance, nobody else had yet seated themselves there.
The two young ladies selected chairs that would afford them a view of the entire ballroom, but they remained engrossed in their own conversation.
“Generally at Saturday suppers, my uncle and I, and the Parkers and the Denhams—another principal family of Sanditon—all sit apart, one of us at each table to foster lively conversation, since many of the guests are unacquainted with one another. I shall stay here with you, however, rather than making the rounds as I generally do.”
As Elizabeth gave her explanation, a footman came to their table to serve them each a glass of champagne; when he was gone, she returned to their previous topic.
“I hope you will not think me ‘insufferably forward’ if I hazard a guess that you resent your cousin for rejecting you brother in favor of such a vain and addle-pated rake?”
“I never thought she suited William—now I do not even believe that she deserves him.”
Not for the first time, Elizabeth wondered how Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh came to be betrothed; the only person who seemed to take any pleasure in the prospect of such a union was Lady Catherine. “Your aunt… seems to favor your brother.”
A shadow clouded Miss Darcy’s expression for a moment. “Anne said your cousin is their parson.”
“He is,” Elizabeth said, her tact nearly at its limit. “He… also enjoys her favor, I understand.”
For a moment Miss Darcy studied her, and then gave a little nod, as if approving of whatever she had gleaned.
“You are clever enough to infer a great deal, I think, of my aunt’s character, if not from your own interactions with her, then from the opinions and general mannerisms of those she employs. ”
An ill-timed sip of champagne almost came out of Elizabeth’s nose, but she recovered herself as other guests began to fill the available seats of their table.
Fortunately, their companions seemed to all be of Sir Sidney’s party, and well enough acquainted with one another that Elizabeth was not obliged to facilitate conversation.
This suited her very well, for she found Miss Darcy’s repartee to be just what she preferred.
By the end of the first course, the two young women were addressing one another by their Christian names, laughing at their new shared jests and impertinences, and were perhaps a little half-sprung.
Elizabeth and Georgiana remained seated together while the rest of the guests milled about, selecting new tables and new companions for the second course, and a legion of footmen swiftly cleared away the dishes.
Amidst the commotion, Lady Denham approached Elizabeth’s table, flanked by her niece and nephew.
The three of them wore such widely disparate expressions that Elizabeth laughed out loud in spite of her better judgement.
The great lady of the parish was a force to be reckoned with.
The success of her speculations in the burgeoning resort village had given her a sense of flippant confidence, and her advanced years had further convinced her of her right to laugh at everybody.
There was always a twinkle of mockery in her eye, as if she had seen everything there was to see, and nothing could shock or impress her now.
Lady Denham had been repaid for her industrious pertinacity by being sent a constant supply of unwed relations who sought her sponsorship in making grand matches for themselves.
The previous year it had been Miss Clara Brereton and Sir Edward Denham; the pair had spent the summer vying for their aunt’s favor before eloping together.
The latter had been shot in a duel a few months after leaving Sanditon, and his brazen bride wasted no time in finding other relations with whom she could ingratiate herself.
Sir Edward’s title passed to his cousin Sir Anthony; he and Sir Edward’s sister, Miss Esther Denham, were clever enough not to repeat the mistakes of their predecessors.
The cousins had little to do with one another, for where he was fulsome and frivolous, she was pragmatic and aloof.
He simpered and smiled at everybody, preening like a debutante, and she swept a listless gaze across the room as if hoping to encounter someone or something that would, at long last, be worthy of her notice.
It was Miss Denham who requested an introduction to Elizabeth’s new friend.
The lady had initially reminded Elizabeth of Caroline Bingley, when first she had come to Sanditon.
They were nearly the same age, but had never become friends.
However, Miss Denham had risen somewhat in Elizabeth’s estimation; she had never personally insulted any of Elizabeth’s relations, and was trenchant enough in conversation that Elizabeth was certain Miss Denham could eat Miss Bingley alive.
One of Miss Denham’s better qualities was that she was unabashedly adept at making any new acquaintance quite aware of just who she was.
She did not prevaricate or pretend; when they were all introduced and Georgiana revealed her connection to Mr. Darcy, nobody could be in any doubt of Miss Denham’s interest. She turned to look in the direction Georgiana indicated and smiled.
“Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? I believe we met once at a ball, though I seem to recall he was not partial to dancing.”
“I have heard that said of him,” Elizabeth agreed, unable to resist herself.
Miss Denham ignored her and surveyed Georgiana, her face utterly blank. “I have heard, of course, of the terrible tragedy at Pemberley, though such an old and illustrious family is sure to recover. Have you been presented at Court, Miss Darcy?”
“I will officially come out in society in the spring.”
“And your brother has brought you here as a sort of practice debut? Well, you appear to be elegant and well-educated, and though Sanditon is certainly an interesting slice of fine society, truly refined creatures such as yourself are not often to be met with. I should like to know you and your brother better, Miss Darcy. Would you like to join me for tea at Sanditon House after church tomorrow?”
Georgiana hesitated before saying, “That is very kind of you, but I have already made plans to go sea-bathing with Miss Bennet tomorrow.”
Miss Denham turned her attention to Elizabeth, who had been desperately trying to signal Charlotte across the room.
Miss Denham’s gaze held neither warmth nor enmity; they were simply not at all suited for anything like friendship.
“Miss Bennet is an ideal companion for such an activity, and certainly an excursion away from the hotel must have greater health benefits than even the sea. Perhaps some other time we might speak more, Miss Darcy.”
Sir Anthony watched Miss Denham saunter off toward Mr. Darcy’s table before taking his own turn at recommending himself.
“You lend our ‘slice of society’ much distinction, Miss Bennet, whether you are presenting guests with a charming first impression of Sanditon at the Tremont or completing the perfection of the scenery in your walks along the beach.”
He raised Elizabeth’s hand to his lips with a gallant bow of his head before addressing Georgiana.
“You are much to be commended, Miss Darcy, for bringing such a radiant smile to Miss Bennet’s fair countenance.
Though I have admired her since I came to Sanditon in the spring, I have never seen such beauteous joy upon her lips—at times I have rather fancied a touch of melancholy about her.
When I beheld you from afar, I knew I must present myself as a humble supplicant and beg you would allow me to join your merriment for the next course. ”
“As Miss Darcy told your cousin, she is not yet out in society.” Elizabeth decided that since her new friend had taken the liberty of fabricating a prior engagement, she was entitled to a little latitude of her own in deflecting the Denhams. “Her brother has entrusted her to my supervision this evening, on the condition that I promote her to the notice of appropriate female companions. It is a pity your cousin has abandoned us, though she claimed to be just as keen, in her own way.”
Charlotte approached, smiling like an angel of mercy as she rested her hands atop the chair beside Elizabeth’s, thus obliging Sir Anthony to take two steps backward.
She greeted the Denhams as affably as she ever did, particularly the dowager.
“I have been singing your praises to the Americans at table six, your ladyship. Mr. Hudson and his sister are fascinated by my description of Sanditon House, for even the wealthiest amongst Philadelphia society must be awed by the splendor of a grand English estate. Taste, history, and tradition are all on our side, though I will admit they are certainly a fashionable young pair.”
Lady Denham was a bloodhound, even at the ripe old age of seventy—Elizabeth was respectfully repulsed by the notion of what the dowager must have been like half a century ago.
She was on the scent at once, leading her nephew away as he offered Elizabeth a few more parting compliments she had no wish to hear.
When the Denhams were gone, Elizabeth grinned at Georgiana. “Sea-bathing tomorrow?”