Chapter 5 #3
Darcy, who had been engaged in giving the footman instructions of no importance whatever concerning the trout, looked over too quickly. “Madam?”
Mrs. Gardiner’s smile was mild enough to alarm him. “I only meant that you chose your subject with admirable promptness. Not every gentleman, upon finding himself in a delicate social situation, would think immediately to speak of fish.”
“It was the subject most immediately before me,” he said.
“Yes, hanging from my uncle’s hand,” said Miss Elizabeth with a little laugh. “Which I suppose gave it some advantage.”
“A very considerable one,” Darcy agreed with a small smile.
“And you and my husband pursued it with such firmness. The sycamore, the third oak, the fly. I began to fear one of you would ask the fish for its own account of the matter.”
“It took me a minute to find my feet,” Darcy admitted ruefully. “Fortunately, Mr. Gardiner has excellent timing.”
“He does.” Miss Elizabeth’s glance moved from Mrs. Hurst and her sister back to her aunt.
Darcy thought that Miss Elizabeth had not learned all her wit in Hertfordshire.
A shout of triumph rose from the quoit field, followed immediately by Richard’s voice declaring that the rules of the game had been grossly misapplied.
Lady Carstairs stood with another quoit in hand, spectacles glinting, cheeks pink with victory. “Do not sulk at the edge of the field. You have lost by seven, and I wish that to be noted by all in attendance. Witnesses, you know.”
“I was not sulking,” Richard called back. “I was merely reconsidering my chosen profession.”
“Do it nearer the peg.”
Miss Atherton clapped. Master Henry began chanting, “Sev-en! Sev-en!” until his nursemaid hushed him.
Lady Carstairs’s eye swept the company and fixed, with dreadful purpose, upon Darcy. “Mr. Darcy! Miss Bennet! Mrs. Gardiner! We are uneven, and I will not have it said that victory was made easy by poor arrangement. Come join us.”
Darcy opened his mouth to refuse with every proper expression of regret.
Miss Elizabeth was quicker. “I warn you, Lady Carstairs, I intend to win.”
“Excellent,” said Lady Carstairs. “You have spirit, then. You may join my team.”
Richard placed a hand to his heart. “Madam, I had spirit before I began this game.”
“You had confidence,” said Lady Carstairs. “Which is not the same thing at all.”
Miss Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, and there was laughter at the corners of her eyes. “Well, Mr. Darcy? Shall we submit?”
Georgiana had resumed her place beneath the oak between the Pelham girls, smiling at something Miss Pelham had said, unobserved and untroubled. Mrs. Annesley caught his glance and gave the slightest nod.
“I should be honoured.”
“Do not say honoured,” Miss Elizabeth admonished him as they crossed the grass. “It is only quoits, though I grant Colonel Fitzwilliam has done his best to suggest otherwise.”
“Lady Carstairs does not appear to share your view.”
“No. Lady Carstairs appears to consider it a test of character.”
They reached the field together, where Lady Carstairs pressed a quoit into Elizabeth’s hand, and Richard, with great solemnity, offered Darcy another.
“Take care,” Richard said. “She can smell weakness.”
Elizabeth turned, brows raised. “Colonel, I should think such complete weakness could be smelled from the bridge.”
Richard gave a wounded cry and pressed a hand to his breast. “Madam, you mistake strategy for incapacity. I have been lulling Lady Carstairs into a false sense of conquest.”
Lady Carstairs snorted. “You have been losing.”
“With unusual grace,” said Richard. “That is the point everyone persists in overlooking.”
Darcy glanced at Miss Elizabeth, who gave him an amused little nod. She saw it too, then. Richard was enjoying himself enormously and, if Darcy was any judge, had been missing with intent. He was too good a soldier not to know precisely where he was throwing.
Miss Elizabeth took up her quoit. “Do take care, Colonel. There is such a thing as losing too prettily.”
Richard waggled his eyebrows. “I shall endeavour to obey, madam.”
Darcy took his place beside Miss Elizabeth.
Lady Carstairs lifted her arm. “Now, Miss Bennet. Show the colonel how it is done.”
Elizabeth glanced once at Darcy, weighed the quoit in her hand, and tossed it. The ring landed on one edge and promptly fell, perfectly circling the peg.
Lady Carstairs cried out in triumph while Richard groaned.
The reverend applauded. “Well done, Miss Bennet!”
Miss Elizabeth almost bounced on her toes, delighted and disbelieving. “I shall become impossible to live with,” she said to him, “and it will all be your fault.”
Darcy took in her bright eyes, her wind-stirred curls, the laughter she was making no effort to hide, and found himself in no fit state to argue.
“Yes,” he said gravely, his eyes drifting down to her lips before snapping back up again. “I begin to see the danger.”
She gave him a long, strange stare and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Lady Carstairs demanded another throw, and the day, which had so nearly gone wrong, carried on.