Chapter 4
FOUR
Dinner had been a delicious but somewhat excruciating experience; his palate was sated, but Darcy was tired of treading delicately around boorish questions about his homes.
Seeing the mortification on Elizabeth’s face only worsened his dread of another two hours jawing in the drawing room—especially when his host mentioned his enjoyment of cards.
Perhaps Elizabeth saw him stiffen, or she too was exhausted from the company of relations too keen to extract information on him as payment for their hospitality.
No matter the lingering illness or muddy roads, he would return to Netherfield tomorrow.
He would offer to bring Elizabeth to Longbourn, although it would not surprise him if she remained with her aunt and uncle; Longbourn seemed an inhospitable place with her presumptuous, marriage-minded cousin lurking about.
What kind of simkin arrives to enjoy hospitality at his relations only to inspect the furnishings and examine the daughters as if they were cattle?
If Longbourn’s heir was indeed Lady Catherine’s parson, then of course he was an obsequious nodcock; only a toad-eater could survive in such a position.
Elizabeth clearly had taken her cousin’s measure, but he would inform her nevertheless of his connexion to the man’s exalted patroness.
Odious fool, ordered by Lady Catherine to choose?—
“Loo?”
Darcy looked up to find himself being scrutinised by Mr Philips. He congratulated himself on remaining impassive rather than snarling his demurral, desperately wishing he had his book or any other excuse to take the farthest chair or retire to his room.
“Mr Darcy may be weary from his travels.” Elizabeth smiled at him, but it was the beseeching look in her eyes that truly arrested him.
Perhaps she wished an end to her relations’ company as well.
“You must forgive my uncle, sir. He and my aunt are prodigious players and host the most popular card parties in all of Meryton.”
Mrs Philips chuckled. “My niece praises the parties, but she is less inclined to play cards than to find amusement in watching those who do.”
Darcy was unsurprised to hear it.
“Or calming her youngest sisters, who are keen on games,” the lady continued. “We thought to have a card party this week, though it seems we will postpone until the health of my sister and those at Longbourn improves. Perhaps you and the rest of the Netherfield party will join us.”
He felt the attentions of all three but it was Elizabeth’s expectant expression which caught his eye. Was she wary after having her sisters’ behaviour exposed, or eager to expose him to a more cultivated company than found at the assembly?
“I thank you on their behalf. Bingley, and Hurst in particular, are always eager for card games and merry company.”
“Wonderful,” said Mr Philips before he stifled a yawn. “Now then, what say you to a game of backgammon?”
Any doubts Darcy retained as to one aspect of the quality of such a gathering were set aside when Mr Philips unveiled an exquisite backgammon set, carved of ivory and ebony. He looked at Elizabeth. “From Mr Gardiner?”
She smiled; whether it was pride or satisfaction, he could not say.
A few minutes after admitting defeat, Mr Philips was asleep in his chair. As Mrs Philips stood to urge him to bed, she turned and announced she would not be long from their company.
Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “Yes, Aunt. Goodnight to you, Uncle.”
When the older couple’s footsteps were no longer heard, she looked at Mr Darcy.
“You may find your freedom if you wish to go to your room or read a book. Despite what she said, my aunt will not return.” He seemed bewildered so she assured him again.
“She is a prodigious sleeper. She goes to bed early and rises late. My mother, a great believer in the power of sleep to retain one’s beauty, has long envied that in her sister and points to my aunt’s exceptionally fine complexion as evidence of truth in the adage, though it is as likely that managing a household of five daughters is the cause of her nerves and her wakefulness. ”
Elizabeth realised she was babbling, speaking to him of ridiculous things. Her stupidity was made evident by Mr Darcy himself, staring at her as if she had told him his hair was blue! Did he think she was teasing him, reminding him of her unmarried status? Heavens!
“You are safe from me, Mr Darcy,” she hastened to add. “Please, enjoy a book. My uncle is not the reader my father is, but he likes to display a small library. You will find Shakespeare and Defoe on his shelves, although their pages have been turned mostly by myself.”
He gave her an interested look. “You are singular in your enjoyment of reading. I am rarely in company with any lady, and few gentlemen, who express such pleasure in and familiarity with books.”
“Nor am I, truth be told. Beyond my father, Mr Hodges, the bookshop owner, and my friend Charlotte Lucas, I have none in Meryton with whom I can discuss books. It is not that the neighbourhood lacks readers, it is the material they read that often differs from my own tastes.” She shrugged.
“My aunt Gardiner is fond of reading, but with four young children, she has little time to spare for it at present.”
“A great loss indeed, but much happiness is to be gained from a large, happy family. One does not forget how to read if it is set aside for a time. Indeed, there will be many more books to enjoy.”
“You surprise me, Mr Darcy. Setting aside pleasure for the unceasing, exhausting demands of?—”
Elizabeth paused, recalling that he was in company with Miss Bingley at Netherfield and must be accustomed to such acts of patience.
She shivered as a blast of wind hit the window and the candle beside her flickered.
Mr Darcy rose immediately; he went to the fire and placed another log on the flames before reaching for the throw Mrs Philips had left in her chair and offering it to her.
His gesture was beyond gallant; Elizabeth had not often sat in small company with other gentlemen, but of those, none would have moved with such care and alacrity to ensure her comfort.
His thoughtfulness warmed her to him in much the same way as the patience and politeness he had shown to her aunt and uncle.
Still, he was too quiet, and she wished to provoke conversation.
“I thank you for telling me of the provenance of the illness. I take heart knowing Jane is well. I should not admit the pleasure I take in recalling how much of the ragout Mr Collins enjoyed.” Mr Darcy smiled and looked as if he would speak, but remained silent.
It would not do. She pressed on. “I promise I have no questions on your houses or carriages, but will you tell me a little of your sister?”
She could not have found a better topic. His face lit up. “Yes, Georgiana. She is very dear to me, and I endeavour to ensure her happiness. She has just turned sixteen. My cousin and I have been her guardians since my father died five years ago.”
“You were so young.”
He nodded, and seemed on the verge of speaking to it, but instead said, “Georgiana loves nothing more than music and riding. She is a clever girl, but quite shy.”
A rush of feeling came over her as she understood the responsibilities Mr Darcy held, and the seriousness with which he undertook them. She could not read his expression, shadowed as it was in the room’s dim light, but she could hear the pride in his voice.
“Miss Elizabeth, I must apologise for not speaking earlier. I was distressed by what you said of your cousin, Mr Collins. He is, apparently, parson to my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park. She is an imperious lady of decided opinion; my cousin Fitzwilliam thinks of her as a dragon. It is not my place to warn you, but life as Mrs Collins could not be easy or pleasant.”
“I do not imagine myself well-suited for the position,” she began, “nor, having spent a full day in company with my cousin, do I aspire to it. I believe my father would agree with me.”
Something like relief crossed his expression; then his lips quirked and in a wry voice, he said, “Ah, you have sketched his character?”
She burst into laughter—a grave mistake, as a moment later, her aunt’s voice came ringing down the stairs.
“Lizzy, it has been a long day. You must come up as well.”
A fine time to be my chaperon!