Chapter Ten #2
“He wrote this—a little card with a quote from one of Mrs. Bevan’s novels. I meant to show it to her, thinking it would be the sort of thing she might appreciate—probably a foolish notion, if not a risky admission. It was in my pocket when I fell from the phaeton, and the mud ruined it.”
Elizabeth pressed the rumpled and smudged valentine against the pages of the book Charlotte had loaned her, as if to smooth out the puckering caused by her tumble into the mud.
Again, Charlotte reached for it, this time holding out the card Mr. Darcy had written.
The writing on the latter was far more legible, and Elizabeth smiled at the message.
This cormorant advises you to cease all attempts to fly and hopes to find you sunning your feathers in the sand again soon.
Charlotte scowled. “What an odd thing to say.”
Elizabeth explained how she and Georgiana had compared him to a cormorant, and agreed that her flight from the phaeton was not one she intended to repeat.
“As to sunning my feathers in the sand, I believe he refers to the morning after his arrival, when we happened upon one another at the beach. He mistook me for Miss de Bourgh, if you can imagine!”
“That is not especially flattering! You are ever so much prettier. He must really love her.” Charlotte screwed up her face and then turned serious.
She held the two notes side by side and scrutinized them.
“Does the writing not look the same to you? And both are rather cryptic, alluding to some shared joke.”
Elizabeth yawned. “I wonder you can make out the valentine at all. It is entirely illegible to me.”
“I can see similarities in the formation of the f and g.”
Elizabeth could see what Charlotte meant, but still shook her head in protest. “Surely all gentlemen are taught the same style of writing in school. If they both attended Eton, for example, they might have learnt from the same master. The coincidence would be far too great to consider it a possibility. Really, Charlotte, and you think me a fanciful creature!”
And this was all Elizabeth could manage to say about it before the elixir had her dozing back into a dreamless slumber.
The drawing room was full of Parkers—arguably overly so. Sir Thomas’s four young children had been allowed to remain until dinner, to be preened over and praised by their father’s guests, and Charlotte presented young Lottie, who was cooing in her arms.
The previous summer, Sir Sidney had purchased a cottage orné from Sir Edward Denham, who had found himself hard pressed for funds after eloping with his aunt’s ward.
The seldom-used house now boasted three new residents—Arthur Parker, Miss Diana Parker, and Miss Susan Parker, who had lately arrived from Bath.
The five Parker siblings were as varied in disposition as the Bennet girls.
Sir Thomas was as industrious as he was amiable, Sir Sidney was charismatic and debauched, and their younger brother Arthur was, though not unkind, possibly the dullest man Elizabeth had ever encountered.
Miss Diana, resolutely a spinster, was fussy and overly solicitous, while her younger sister Miss Diana was silly and vain, but uncannily capable of dominating her older siblings.
The brothers had their own passions—Sir Thomas’s great love was Sanditon itself, Sir Sidney was fascinated by his own amusement, and Arthur simply relished rich food and empty conversation.
The sisters were united in their chief interest, which consisted of diagnosing themselves and everybody around them with every malady imaginable and a few that indeed seemed entirely imaginary.
Elizabeth had feared they would spend the whole evening prattling on about her injury, offering preposterous advice and dire prognostication, but this lasted only a quarter of an hour.
When Sir Edward arrived, the two sisters devoted their attention entirely to inquiries after the handsome widower’s well-being.
After tiring of swinging the younger Parker boy around the room in a manner that threatened to give Sir Thomas and his lady immediate apoplexy, Sir Sidney threw himself down on the sofa beside Elizabeth, nearly causing her to fall sideways against him.
She steadied herself; her hurt ankle was propped up on an ottoman, and she would have removed herself from Sir Sidney’s company if not for the nuisance it would be to hobble away from him. Instead she could only glower, but he was beyond noticing her annoyance.
He had demanded the honor of carrying Elizabeth down the stairs that evening.
She thought it unusual, for they had never quite warmed to one another, and Sir Thomas had been perfectly willing to assist her.
But when Sir Sidney had entered her bedchamber, his motive was apparent.
After she swallowed a small dose of her medicine, Sir Sidney had examined the bottle curiously, sniffed at it, and then drank a generous swig.
“That ought to make it a little easier to endure Lady Catherine,” he said to her with an unrepentant wink.
And now he was evidently feeling the effects of the elixir.
He looked over and gave Elizabeth a wild laugh.
“My dear Miss Bennet, what a night we shall have! Our company shall be most agreeable, for I am sure I shall be agreeing with everybody! But I must tell you, before my sallow ice princess arrives with her frigid mother, that you are looking exceedingly well this evening. I happened to notice, when I carried you down the stairs, how flattering is the neckline of your gown! One of Charlotte’s, I think?
But even with the child she never filled it out so remarkably well.
And how soft the silk, I could run my hands over it all night! ”
“Sir! You forget yourself!” Elizabeth tried to move herself even further away from him, as he reached out and grasped a handful of the green silk. He had exposed her injured leg all the way up to the knee, though nobody else seemed to notice.
Elizabeth reminded herself that she had spoken rather freely herself the previous afternoon, under the influence of the medicine—but Sir Sidney had taken leave of his senses quite voluntarily.
She was about to wave Charlotte down for aid when a footman announced that the first of the guests had arrived.
Georgiana scanned the room and found Elizabeth, and a look of horror flashed in her countenance at the sight of Elizabeth’s distress.
Sir Sidney finally released the skirt of Elizabeth’s gown in favor of closely examining the diamonds on her hairpins and musing in her ear about the wonders of color and sparkly things.
As Charlotte greeted the new arrivals and her husband presented his siblings, Georgiana got her brother’s attention, whispered something, and then Mr. Darcy was striding toward Elizabeth in all haste. Elizabeth’s pleading gaze turned to one of gratitude as he approached.
He stood before her and bowed, his steely gaze fixed on Sir Sidney. “Sir, I believe it is not polite to put your hands on an unmarried woman in such a way, especially in company.”
Sir Sidney laughed and stroked Elizabeth’s cheek. “Well, your beliefs are very dull, Darcy. Anne has always told me so. But I suppose Miss Lizzy will forgive your banality since you are a handsome devil.”
Elizabeth recoiled. “Good evening, Mr. Darcy. Sir Sidney has seen fit to sample the elixir provided to me by the physician.”
The miscreant was swaying in his seat; he brought a finger to his lips with clumsy exaggeration. “Shh! That was meant to be our little secret!”
Mr. Darcy looked mortified. “Sir, have you made free with the medicine Miss Bennet requires for her recovery, for the sake of making sport and japery?”
Sir Sidney chortled and shrugged his shoulders.
“I say, Darcy, I shall strike a bargain with you, in exchange for your forgiveness for my indiscretion—and perhaps not mentioning a thing about it to my brother. In return, I shall take myself over there directly and leave you to court your lady. I cannot fault your taste, as you are well aware. There is something about a woman who belongs to you, Darcy, that makes her exquisitely attractive in my estimation.”
Elizabeth answered before Mr. Darcy could speak, for he looked ready to call the rogue out. “He accepts, now please go and greet Miss de Bourgh—Mr. Darcy will say nothing of your nonsense.”
Miss de Bourgh had indeed arrived with her mother and her companion—the latter had not been expected, and Charlotte’s table was entirely put off by Miss Lovelace’s inclusion. Sir Sidney rolled his eyes as he ambled away. “My charms are wanted elsewhere—for now.”
Elizabeth gestured for Mr. Darcy to take the seat Sir Sidney had vacated. “Thank you for your gallantry, sir. It is fortunate that Charlotte has so fine a husband as compensation for enduring such a brother.”
“She has a very clever friend, for I noticed you did not say that you would not tell anybody what Sir Sidney has done. But I must apologize for the talk of our courtship, and any inconvenience it has caused you. I did tell Richard it was not a wise plan, but he has ever been prone to making mischief and having his own way.”
Elizabeth laughed. “He reminds me of Mr. Bingley, but with a more devious style of enthusiasm.”
“That is certainly an intriguing thought—devious Charles! With his good looks and easy manners, he would be a menace to society.” Mr. Darcy smiled brightly, as she had rarely seen him do.
“I shall mention it to him when I write to scold him for not telling me that he meant to travel to Sanditon. I told him of my coming here, after all.”
Elizabeth scrunched her lips to one side in a look of ponderance. “Or you could be devious Darcy, and ask if you could come to visit Netherfield. He would be at sixes and sevens, having to refuse you, and then you could tell him you came to Sanditon to complain of your grievance.”