Chapter 23
COLONEL FITZWILLIAM'S PREFERENCE
When their party assembled to travel to Lucas Lodge, the only ladies in attendance were Darcy’s sister and her companion. Bingley explained briefly that Miss Bingley was unwell and Mrs Hurst had elected to remain at Netherfield to comfort her.
Though Georgiana offered some polite words of concern, Darcy knew it must be a relief to be spared Miss Bingley’s company for the evening.
He had told his sister, not long after the gentlemen’s conference in Bingley’s study, how Miss Bingley had tied her name to his friend’s in service of a design to keep Bingley in London.
He had feared that her fragile self-confidence might be once again shattered by betrayal, but though Georgiana had clearly been upset, she had confided that she had never felt Miss Bingley’s friendship was genuine.
Her dismay stemmed entirely from the fact that, having been so narrowly saved from the scheming of Mr Wickham, she had once again been made a pawn in the intrigues of others.
Yet she had refused his reluctant suggestion that they return to London and pass Christmas with the Fitzwilliams instead.
“I was fully aware that coming here would require me to endure Miss Bingley. The fact that I now like her even less is not enough to change my mind,” she had assured him.
“I will have Mrs Annesley with me whenever we ladies are alone together, and Mrs Hurst is tolerable for the most part. Miss Bingley will not overset me, Brother, and I shall look upon this as practice for having to associate with those I do not like when I am out in society.”
Though he was not entirely easy with keeping Georgiana under the same roof as Miss Bingley, he was relieved that they would remain.
His concern for his cousin and Miss Elizabeth had not abated—indeed, the looming possibility of a scandal for the Bennets only increased it—and leaving now would have required him to give up any hope of influencing the situation, should it tend in an unfortunate direction.
They were welcomed at Lucas Lodge with all the bonhomie the master of the house could display.
His delight overflowed into mirth as he encouraged them to treat his home quite as their own.
The drawing room was filled with small tables where groups of two to six could sit down for games, while in the dining room, the sideboard groaned under the weight of cakes, sandwiches, pickles, tarts, and trifles, and another table offered wine, sherry, a steaming bowl of cider, and a chilled bowl of punch.
Across the hall, the parlour stood open, ready to receive those who preferred conversation to cards, or merely wished to sit with a drink for a time.
Georgiana was swiftly claimed by Miss Kitty, who pulled her into a group of young ladies.
There were some officers present but Wickham was not among them, so Darcy set aside his instinct to hover and joined his cousin and Bingley, who were speaking with the three eldest Miss Bennets, Miss Lucas, Mr Samuel Lucas, and Mr James Harrington.
“I see you are keeping a careful eye on your sister,” Miss Elizabeth said, smiling knowingly. “Kitty is terribly excited to see Miss Darcy again. You need have no concern; they are all good girls, and the worst they may do is ask her too many questions about her gown or her home.”
“Georgiana has been extremely shy all her life, and only recently has she learnt some confidence. I will not easily break the habit of worrying about her comfort in company, I fear.”
Her smile widened, and it was all he could do not to display a reaction to the corresponding increase in her beauty. “You are an excellent brother, I think. Miss Darcy is very fortunate.”
He hardly knew how to reply. “You give me too much credit. I merely follow the example of my own parents as best I can. And of course, I have the assistance of my cousin and my aunt, without whom I should surely have made a dreadful hash of things.” He thought briefly of Wickham, so near, and how close his own silence on that distasteful subject had come to costing him the person dearest to him.
“I believe I shall retain my opinion,” she said cheerfully.
He thought she must be in a great deal of suspense, waiting to be certain that her sister’s misstep would not be revealed, but she seemed determined to hide it.
There was, perhaps, the merest hint of strain in her smiles.
Now that two days had passed without a whisper of it, he was beginning to feel that they had succeeded, but her anxiety, naturally, would be slower to dissipate.
“We have here nine people, enough for a rousing go at Commerce,” Mr Lucas announced just then. “Shall we make a table?”
It was a ‘rousing go’ indeed, the table full of laughter and good-natured teasing.
Fitzwilliam made the mistake of suggesting that he was rarely beaten after he took the first round, only to find himself mercilessly ribbed by Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lucas, who sat to either side of him, as a run of bad cards lost him two counters over the next three rounds, while the ladies each took one.
In the end, however, it was Mr James Harrington who won it all, grinning over a tidy little pile of tokens.
Bingley and Miss Bennet joined another table for Vingt-un after the first game of Commerce, but everyone else chose to play again. Seeing his sister safely ensconced at a table of young ladies near her age, engaged in a lively game of lottery tickets, he also stayed.
The ladies teased Fitzwilliam again when he sheepishly displayed a truly terrible hand at the end of the first round.
Darcy thought Miss Elizabeth had never looked so beautiful, eyes sparkling with laughter, curls dancing in time with the shaking of her shoulders, and he wished with a pang that it had been he who made her laugh so.
That pang deepened into an ache later in the evening, when he and his cousin formed a whist table with Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth.
Unconventionally, they played gentlemen versus ladies, and found themselves very much equal, fighting for every trick.
Fitzwilliam and Miss Elizabeth traded witticisms throughout, while he and Miss Lucas played with quiet concentration.
Watching the two of them banter, he thought how well-matched they were, and felt that if she were not yet in love with his cousin, she soon must be.
He knew he ought to be happy for them both, but he was not.
He could not, or perhaps would not, name the weight in his chest as they laughingly taunted each other, but neither could he deny that their happiness made him very unhappy indeed.
“Are you enjoying the party, Miss Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, happening upon the young lady at the refreshments table.
“I am,” she replied eagerly. “Though I am not very good at most of the games. I had never played lottery tickets before at all. I think I quite shocked your sister when I said so.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That is Kitty’s favourite, which I think you may have guessed. And you could not have picked a better place to improve your skills, since Sir William only allows playing for tokens.”
“I have always thought I would never be so foolish as to play too deep, but not half an hour ago I found myself with only three tokens to my name and positively longing for more! I think I see how some people might be swept up in the excitement and lose their purse.”
“That is what happened to the previous owner of Netherfield,” Elizabeth related in a confidential tone.
“Sir William took a lesson from Mr Morris’s downfall and banned all play for stakes in his home henceforth, though I do not believe anyone has ever been made more than briefly uncomfortable by losses suffered in the parlours of this neighbourhood.
It was London that did poor Mr Morris in. ”
“I shall remember to be very careful when I play there, though it will be another two years at least before I might. Neither my brother nor my cousin ever attends a ball or party with more coin on his person than he is willing to lose, and they never play on credit.”
“There is an example you would do well to follow,” Elizabeth said.
“What example is that?” enquired Mr Darcy, coming up to them.
“I was telling Miss Elizabeth of the habit you and Fitzwilliam share regarding gambling only with the coin you have brought,” Miss Darcy explained.
“A habit my father impressed upon me,” Mr Darcy deflected modestly. “Speaking of Fitzwilliam, have you seen him?”
“He is playing piquet with Miss Lucas,” Elizabeth informed him. “He is determined to win at something or other tonight, but I fear he may be disappointed yet again. There is a reason no one else will sit down to piquet with her.”
Miss Darcy giggled, and Mr Darcy went so far as to smirk for a moment.
“As the stakes are so low,” Miss Darcy suggested, “perhaps I shall invite him to play me next. For the sake of his pride, you know.”
“The ladies of Hertfordshire are Captain Sharps, the lot of them!” the colonel declared late that night, as the gentlemen enjoyed a brandy in Bingley’s study before retiring for the night.
“The only games I won were at tables of gentlemen alone, aside from that hand of piquet Georgiana requested of me.”
“Did not Mr James Harrington beat us all at Commerce?” Bingley asked.
“He did, but there were ladies at the table, if you recall, and I am convinced the ladies allowed their confederate to win in order to lull us into a false sense of security,” Fitzwilliam ridiculously claimed, the corner of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter.
“Perhaps it was less their skill and more your distraction at their charms which foiled you,” Darcy suggested.
“Well…perhaps.” The colonel grinned and raised his glass. “When a man is contemplating setting up his household, it is only right that he pay particular attention to the lady he may wish to install there.”