| |
When Darcy saw Greymore lead Elizabeth out onto the terrace after the first set, his blood boiled. It was early in the evening, and the terrace was likely to be deserted. What was Greymore’s design in getting her alone?
Darcy warned himself to keep calm. Greymore was a gentleman, one Darcy would trust even with his own sister. He should rejoice that such a man treated Elizabeth as an equal.
Even as he told himself this, the vision returned of his planting the man a facer.
He accompanied Lady Cressida back to her mother. “Your ladyship,” he said to the countess, “I must compliment you on the excellent music. This promises to be a festive evening.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. You and Cressida made a fine-looking couple on the dance floor. So graceful, both of you. After such vigorous exercise, I am sure my daughter must be thirsty.”
“Mama—”
“Of course, ma’am,” Darcy said, then turned to Lady Cressida. “May I bring you a lemonade?”
“Thank you. That would be most welcome.” Her voice contained that sound of aristocratic ennui that was typical of her. But a sweet smile shone in her eyes.
In the refreshment room, he ran into his cousin Josh. “Lady Cressida?” his cousin teased. “I expected you to open the dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet is my dear friend,” Darcy said noncommittally.
Josh nodded pensively. “Do you have designs on Lady Cressida?”
The question caught Darcy off guard. Why did the minds of the ton jump so effortlessly from dancing to matrimony? “None at all.”
“She is, as they say, a diamond of the first water.”
Darcy pondered that. Did Josh admire Lady Cressida? Of this year’s crop of young ladies making their come-out, she was amongst the most eligible. “How well do you know her?”
“She and Arabelle have been friends forever,” Josh said. “I have always been fond of her, but it is odd thinking of her as a woman rather than a girl.”
“No dark secrets?” Darcy asked with a wry grin.
“None at all. She is exactly as she seems. Any man would be lucky to have her.”
A burst of raucous laughter emerged from the card room. Probably a group of puppies who had sneaked a flask into the party. Darcy should warn a footman to keep an eye on them.
He turned his attention back to Josh. “I noticed you dancing with Miss Peabody.”
Josh chuckled. “Read nothing into that. She is a sweet girl, and I want to help make her first season a success.”
Darcy nodded. He was not surprised. The Fitzwilliam and Peabody children had been friends since birth. But lately the relationship with Rolf Peabody had become strained.
Darcy said to Josh in low tones, “I did not expect to see Rolf here.”
Josh pursed his lips. “Lady Greymore could hardly invite the viscount and viscountess, and exclude him. He lives with them, you know.”
“One wonders how Wayne convinced his wife to agree to that arrangement.”
Josh looked around and dropped his voice still further. “Wayne cut off Rolf’s allowance. Wants him close, to keep an eye on him.”
“The man is a menace.” Darcy’s jaw clenched. “He should not be permitted in polite society.”
Josh frowned. Finally, he said. “Without his father to protect him any longer, perhaps he will turn over a new leaf.”
Darcy gave his cousin a hard look. “Do you truly believe a man like that can change?”
“I believe in repentance and forgiveness, yes.”
Josh had to say that, being a man of the cloth. Darcy took him at his word, but did not view the situation with the same certainty.
“Only if the repentance comes from the heart,” Darcy insisted. “If Rolf thinks his brother will throw him out on the street, then his goal will be to avoid getting caught. Not to change his behaviour.”
Josh patted Darcy’s back. “Come, cousin, this conversation is too serious for a ball. The lovely Miss Peabody awaits this lemonade. I had best get back to her.”
Darcy watched him go, then ladled out two cups of lemonade—one for Lady Cressida and one for her mother. He hoped Josh was right, but Darcy’s misgivings were strong.
Josh did not know the whole story. He had been out of town establishing himself in his new parish the previous season. That was when the rumours about Rolf Peabody had begun to surface.
Rolf was a thorough villain. Darcy had seen with his own eyes how the man had tried to impose himself on an unwilling housemaid. Reports about tradesmen’s daughters soon followed. Darcy did not believe for a moment that the loss of the old viscount’s indulgence would change the man.
Darcy looked into the card room and spotted the group of young bachelors. Lord Wayne was standing before them, lecturing them with what must be a confiscated flask in one hand. Darcy grinned at the sight.
Then, his stomach tightened. Wayne was as fine a man as Darcy knew. A pity his brother had turned out wild.
Darcy found Lady Cressida and handed her a cup of lemonade. Her mother was standing some distance away, talking with Viscountess Wayne. Darcy sipped the second cup himself. “Do you know Lady Wayne well?” he asked Cressida in low tones.
“She has long been friends with my sister.”
“I understand Lord and Lady Wayne toured Scotland after they married.”
Cressida gave him an enigmatic smile. “Yes, and I was terribly jealous. She sent my sister some lovely letters describing the moors with the heather blooming around the lochs.”
He said in a more serious tone, “It is a pity the old viscount passed away soon after the newlyweds returned.”
She pressed her hand to her heart, and her eyes glittered. “Yes, the dear old man. I was excessively fond of him. He declined quickly during their absence.”
“And now Rolf has moved in with the newlyweds. That must be difficult.”
Cressida’s eyes widened a moment, but then she smiled sweetly. “Every marriage has its challenges, Mr. Darcy.”
Her tone made it clear the subject was closed. Yet he suspected she knew more than she let on. Her smile was deceptively light hearted.
Was Josh right? Should Darcy forget about Rolf Peabody and enjoy the ball? He did not wish to see Arabelle, nor any of the other young ladies, suffer at the hands of a rogue as Georgiana had. But he could do little aside from keeping an eye on the man.
The next set began, and Lady Cressida’s partner came to claim her. Darcy looked about and saw Miss Peabody without an escort. He asked her to stand up with him and led her to the floor.
Priscilla Peabody was a girl of seventeen—and as naïve upon her come-out as any young lady he had known. Wayne ought to have waited another year before presenting her to society. Rumour had it, though, that the viscountcy was in distressed circumstances. He seemed eager to marry off his sister to a man of fortune as soon as possible.
Miss Peabody was pretty enough, fresh-faced with that coveted English rose complexion. Her hair was ash brown, her eyes almost black. Her figure was neither particularly slender nor curvaceous. But her gown complemented her to pleasing effect.
Silence ensued while they waited for the dance to start. She was not poised and demure like Lady Cressida had been, but shy and awkward. He supposed it fell upon him to put her at ease.
“How are you enjoying the season?” he asked.
“I feared I would be lost without Mama to guide me through it, but Lady Wayne has been kind in helping me. I am fortunate Wayne married when he did.”
“I heard it was a love match.”
“Very much so! But Papa’s death has put a strain on us all, I am afraid.”
He nodded sympathetically, his heart squeezing. “I understand how it feels to lose your parents too soon.”
“Yes, you do.” She looked at him with sad eyes and touched her fan to his arm. “Georgiana has been a great friend to me through it all.”
“She is quite fond of you.” He wondered if he should invite Miss Peabody to come to Pemberley in the autumn, if she had not made a match by then. It would do Georgiana good to have a friend with her, and would likely ease some of the strain on Wayne’s household.
He said to her, “Wayne and his wife must have many stories of their trip to Scotland.”
“Oh, they do!” she cried. “But I get so confused. I cannot keep the cities straight. I keep thinking that Inverness is in Austria or Bavaria—”
“Are you thinking of Innsbruck?”
“Yes!” She looked relieved. “And by the time I realize they’re speaking of Scotland, I have missed the whole conversation.”
He nodded his understanding. The girl seemed impossibly young. How could Wayne think of letting her marry? Yet the right husband might be better able to care for her than Wayne himself, if the rumours were true.
The country-dance began, giving them little opportunity to speak to one another. Still, he enjoyed the reel. His partner was lively and energetic, and a pretty blush soon touched her cheek.
Afterward, he got her a drink from the refreshment room before returning her to Lady Wayne. The viscountess was young and pretty, about twenty-two. Hazel eyes were set in a heart-shaped face. Her chestnut hair was arranged in a chignon.
“Mr. Darcy, good to see you. How is Georgiana?”
“She is well. I hope you and Miss Peabody will visit her soon.”
“We will. She is a lovely girl. Will she come out next year, do you think?”
Darcy contemplated that. It was a prospect he wished he could avoid altogether. “Perhaps the year after. To be honest, I cannot bear the thought of her marrying.”
Lady Wayne’s expression turned coy, her eyes gleaming. “Ah, but that is because you are still a bachelor. That condition is easily remedied.”
He nodded while wearing a tight smile. Time to make his escape. “So my aunt reminds me daily.” He bowed and went to find a partner for the next dance.
***
AS THE EVENING WORE on, Lizzy could not stifle the hope that Mr. Darcy would ask her for the supper dance. Nothing of the sort happened. He did not speak to her, he did not approach her, he did not meet her eyes across the room. In fact, if she wandered in his direction, however unintentionally, he seemed to walk the other way.
It happened again when she approached Arabella and the Countess of Matlock. As she got close, Mr. Joshua Fitzwilliam stepped aside to reveal Darcy. When Lizzy was twenty feet away, he bowed to his aunt and hied towards the card room. Lizzy could hardly believe he would behave in such a childish manner.
“I can hardly believe my nephew would behave in such a childish manner,” she overheard Lady Matlock say.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am?” Lizzy asked.
“Ah, Miss Bennet, how good to see you,” the countess replied. “You have had a partner for every dance, I noticed.”
“Some gentlemen seem happy for my company,” she replied.
“Might I escort you for the supper dance?” Joshua asked.
Her heart lifted, then dipped again. She liked Joshua, and so would be happy for his company. But now there would be no chance at all of giving the dance to Darcy.
Why was she letting herself think about the man in such terms? Darcy had made it painfully clear that he did not intend to dance with her that evening. He had only spoken to her during the first set because he had been forced to do so.
Anger burned in her chest. She had been such a fool. She had let herself believe his attentions over the past two weeks had signalled a change in him. When in fact, he had made his attitude plain the night they had met. Elizabeth Bennet was beneath his notice.
She was good enough to be a companion for his sister, but nothing else. He would no more consider Lizzy a potential marriage partner than he would Mrs. Annesley.
Her anger steeling her, she said, “Yes, Mr. Fitzwilliam, I would be happy to join you for the supper dance.”
“Excellent! Your sister is engaged to my brother Peter for that dance. Perhaps we can all sit together afterward.”
“With Peter!” Arabella cried. “Did not Mr. Bingley ask her?”
Josh gave his sister a wry grin—one he sported much of the time, Lizzy was coming to realize. “Peter approached her when we first arrived, before Bingley had led her out to open the ball. Perhaps Bingley did not think to secure her for a second dance before they had finished the first.”
“I hope,” Lizzy said, “that your brother’s interest in my sister is sincere, and he is not simply trying to best Mr. Bingley.”
“Peter would not impose on a young lady in that way,” Mr. Fitzwilliam assured her.
“My son Joshua, however...” the countess said, letting her voice trail off.
Her youngest son put his hand to his heart. “Mother, I am desolate,” he said dramatically.
They chatted a while longer, then Joshua led her out for the cotillion. When they had met at the theatre, she had quickly discerned him to have an appealing sense of humour. But she was not prepared for the way he left her laughing during the course of the dance. It was all she could do to keep from losing her place in the set.
After the dance, she walked in to supper on Joshua’s arm. They joined Jane and Peter, who were seated at a spot with only two chairs left. Lizzy noticed Bingley looking at them from across the room. Jane gave him a coy smile.
The tables were laden with sumptuous dishes. Cold ham, glazed carrots, bread, cheese, fruit, and a variety of pastries were just a few of the offerings. The aromas made Lizzy’s mouth water. Her stomach rumbled with hunger after so much dancing. She forced herself to take delicate bites and attend to the conversation.
“Is this the first time you have been to town for the season?” Joshua asked them.
“It is,” Jane said. “I did not expect to find it so busy in February. We receive more invitations than we can accept. Will it slow down for Lent, do you expect?”
“There will be no balls during Lent,” Peter said, “but the social activities will continue.”
“What else has the ton to do, after all?” Joshua asked sardonically.
His words made Lizzy realize how idle their own lives had become since removing to Mayfair. With some degree of embarrassment, she said, “There must be charitable work.”
“Yes,” he replied, “and many ladies of the ton provide assistance to various worthy causes.”
Lizzy thought a moment. “Can you recommend anything? Jane and I could do some sewing to help the orphanage.”
“Oh, yes!” Jane cried. “We have little to keep us occupied, now that we are staying at Lady Purcell’s home.”
“The hospital always needs linens and bandages,” Peter said.
“Yes, thank you, Dr. Fitzwilliam,” Lizzy said. “That is an excellent suggestion. I wish we had inquired sooner.” Upon her request, the gentlemen instructed the Bennet sisters on how they could help.
Once they had made their plans, Jane turned to Joshua. “I have been wondering—while you are in town, does a rector in your parish fill in for you?”
Joshua swirled a glass of wine. “The curate takes care of Sunday services and other parish business. I am not completely idle, however. I am writing a book of sermons.”
“How wonderful!” With a twinkle in her eye, Jane asked, “Will you be the next Mr. Fordyce?”
“Good heavens, I hope not,” Joshua said gravely, although a smile curved his lips. “For all his sincerity, the man’s view of young womanhood was both idealized and infantilized. Only the most placid of creatures would have benefitted from his ideas. The man obviously never met my sisters.”
Lizzy laughed at that. “Nor ours. Though our sister Mary reads his work quite studiously.”
Joshua scowled. “I can recommend some books that might be of more benefit,” Joshua said. “Fordyce has his place, but young ladies profit from a wide variety of ideas. That way, they can better reach their own conclusions.”
“Good heavens, Josh.” Peter’s fork clanked against his plate. He said in mock horror, “The last thing we want is for ladies to have ideas or reach conclusions.”
“They will do so whether we want them to or not,” Joshua replied. “Better they receive the benefit of an education to guide them.”
“You must have heard the rumours,” Jane said, lifting her cup of punch, “that Lizzy is a great reader.”
“I have,” Joshua said, turning towards her. “Any truth to it?”
Lizzy held up her fan until she could suppress her smile. “I enjoy reading, as I do many things.”
“Such as?” Peter asked.
“Country walks, for which Berkeley Square is a serviceable substitute. Playing the pianoforte, at which I am barely proficient.”
“Come, now,” Joshua said. “Your humility does you credit—but do you not wish to amaze us? Tell us what you excel at.”
“She would excel at delivering set-downs,” Jane said, “except that she is too polite to say them aloud. Instead she regales me with them after the fact.”
“You must give us an example!” Peter demanded.
“It would be unkind,” Lizzy said.
“Come, now,” Joshua complained. “What would you say of me?”
She thought a moment. “That you will be a bishop before you turn thirty, if your skills at dancing are any indication.”
Joshua chuckled. “Do you disapprove of me, Miss Elizabeth?”
She took a sip of champagne. “I must see your sermons before I decide that.”
“Then you will. I would value your opinion on them.”
She raised her brows, then smiled, pleased at the prospect.
The more Lizzy came to know the Fitzwilliams, the more she liked them. But the family member she most wanted to spend time with was not at the table. She spotted him on the other side of the room, and Darcy’s eyes met hers for the briefest moment before he looked away.
All lightness left her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She must stop pining for a man she could not have.
