In the Wilds of Derbyshire Page 24

  “The length of time is not relevant, Miss Russell,” said Georgiana as Miss Russell stepped forward to take her first throw. “Elizabeth is genuine and friendly, and I felt like I knew her for months within days of meeting her.”

  The perturbation of spirit Miss Russell obviously felt was reflected in her poor toss, which sailed far beyond the target, almost hitting Fiona where she stood observing the game. She exchanged a glance with Elizabeth, and they both rolled their eyes as one, almost descending into giggles at the sight of the same reaction in the other.

  “I am certain you did, Miss Darcy,” said Miss Russell. “There are some who project an ease of conversation and effortless friendship wherever they go, and I do not doubt they are adept at capturing others’ attention. I dare say Miss Bennet is counted among their number.”

  Georgiana took her place at the line and hefted her horseshoe, her toss flying through the air and coming to rest within inches of the stake, though it did not actually strike it.

  “Your assessment may be quite true, Miss Russell. Indeed, I cannot imagine anyone not being immediately charmed by Miss Bennet’s manners, for they are as engaging as she is remarkable.”

  She stepped back from the line to allow Miss Campbell to step forward for her second toss. The woman threw a look at her companion, one of warning, Elizabeth thought, but Miss Russell either did not see it, or she completely ignored it, so intent was she on making her point.

  “There is much to be said for acquaintances from your own district whom you have known all your life. I am happy to extend the further hand of friendship with you. Perhaps if you have others of your own station upon whom to rely, you will not feel the need to befriend those of whom you have no actual knowledge.”

  Miss Campbell’s throw went far wide of the mark, and she grimaced, though Elizabeth was not certain if it was due to her unskilled throw, or because of Miss Russell’s continuing determination to make a fool of herself. Not wishing to belabor this already interminable game any longer, Elizabeth stepped to the line and made her toss, which went wide of her earlier throw. As long as the game finished quickly, Elizabeth would be happy.

  “I am quite happy to be your friend, Miss Russell,” said Georgiana as the other woman stepped up for her throw. “But it does not follow that I cannot also be Miss Bennet’s friend. Indeed, I doubt there is anything which could induce me to give up her friendship, for we have become as close as sisters.”

  It was with tolerable composure that Miss Russell took her next shot, throwing the horseshoe to within a few inches of the stake. She nodded with satisfaction and turned to Georgiana. “I am very happy to mentor you, Miss Darcy. In the future, I would recommend you take care in bestowing your friendship. You have your reputation to uphold, after all, and it would not do to allow the infatuation of the moment to compromise your future prospects.”

  Without saying a word, Georgiana stepped forward and, after swinging her arm a few times to gauge the distance and the force of her throw, she proceeded with the toss. The horseshoe, glittering in the light of the sun, flew in a perfect arc, to clang against the stake and spin around it once before it spun to the ground, still circling the stake.

  “That was a marvelous throw, my dear Georgiana!” exclaimed Miss Russell. “You are truly skilled.” Then Miss Russell stepped forward, throwing an insolent glance at Elizabeth. “I hope to hear from you later today, as I have heard that your talent on the pianoforte is exquisite. It is a gift we share in common!”

  “That is gratifying to hear,” replied Georgiana. Elizabeth was shocked for she could detect a wryness in Georgiana’s voice the likes of which she had not heard before. “Elizabeth and I will perform a duet today, and though my skill at the pianoforte is, I hope, adequate, you shall hear the voice of an angel. Miss Bennet almost brought me to tears several times as we were practicing it.”

  The smile ran away from Miss Russell’s face as new evidence of their intimacy was almost thrown in her face. But Miss Darcy was not finished and not about to allow Miss Russell to respond.

  “As for the character of those new to the neighborhood, I am quite satisfied with what I have learned.” Georgiana’s countenance became positively frosty. “Furthermore, I am convinced that my brother also approves, for he thinks as I do. Your concern is admirable, but completely unwarranted.”

  It was a clear dismissal and a warning not to speak in such a way again, and Elizabeth could not be prouder of Georgiana’s intrepidity and fortitude. Miss Russell gaped at her for several moments, anger descending over her. Elizabeth was certain the woman was about to say something impolitic when Miss Campbell touched her arm in warning, proving that of the pair, she was by far the more rational. Miss Russell subsided, though not without a glare at Elizabeth. She turned back to Georgiana and attempted a sickly sort of smile.

  “I see you are intent upon it, and I salute your courage. Not all are willing to give consequence to others of a different station.”

  Unfortunately, Miss Campbell had not been completely successful in deflecting her friend’s rashness, and Georgiana returned a brittle look in response.

  “Come now, Miss Russell—we are all of the same station here. Perhaps there are differences in fortune and situation, but we are all daughters of gentlemen. The only one among us who might be considered of a higher sphere is Lady Emily, who is the daughter of an earl.”

  “Of course,” said Miss Russell. Then she curtseyed and moved away in the company of Miss Campbell. Elizabeth did not miss the whispered conversation between them and the fact that Miss Campbell appeared to be admonishing the other woman.

  “I do not believe I have ever encountered such insolence,” said Georgiana, though she did a creditable job of refraining from glaring at Miss Russell’s retreating back. “She is naught but the daughter of a man whose estate yields less than three thousand a year!”

  “As am I, if you recall,” replied Elizabeth gently.

  “That is what I mean! Even if she has inherited a further five thousand from an uncle, it does not allow her to act like the daughter of a duke. She has no reason to consider herself above you, when you are her superior in every way that matters.”

  “No, it does not,” replied Elizabeth, ignoring Georgiana’s praise. “But, unfortunately, there are many of her ilk among society, and there is little to be done about it.”

  Georgiana snorted. “I never knew that she was one of them, though I have met others before.”

  Elizabeth and Georgiana exchanged a glance and burst into laughter—Elizabeth was certain they had both been thinking of Miss Bingley, but they both possessed enough manners to resist censuring the woman when she was not present.

  “If she cannot behave herself, I will ensure she is not invited to Pemberley again.”

  “I cannot say I would repine the loss of her company.”

  “I am sure you will not,” said Georgiana. “She may not realize it, but I would much prefer to have you as a sister.”

  With those last words and a wink at Elizabeth, Georgiana turned and walked away, calling out to some of the other ladies, inquiring after their comfort and offering to engage them in some of the activities.

  “More trouble with Hillary?” asked a voice close behind.

  Turning, Elizabeth greeted Clara. “The same as before.” Elizabeth stifled a laugh. “She was put in her place, though, from a most unexpected quarter.”

  “It seems our Georgiana is benefiting by the acquaintance with your more outspoken character. I do not know her well, but she has always seemed more than a little shy to me—almost mousey.”

  “She is maturing rapidly,” replied Elizabeth. “I have no doubt that Mr. Darcy will be required to use a large stick to keep the gentlemen away before long.”

  With a laugh, Clara pulled Elizabeth away to engage in one of the other games scattered about the lawn. Elizabeth went willingly—there were so many agreeable young ladies that she did not mean to exasperate her
self over one who was not.

  Though Darcy was superficially hosting the men of the party as they fished in Pemberley’s stream, the feminine laughter emanating from the lawn no more than a stone’s throw away caught his attention frequently, and he found himself gazing over toward the house more often than not. Though the voices were indistinct and Miss Bennet’s could not be differentiated from them, he thought it likely that hers was among them, so joyful and open in company was she. Though he wished to go there, he knew his duty and attempted to focus on it.

  “If you do not stop looking toward the house,” said his cousin in a soft voice, “everyone will know you cannot keep your eyes off Miss Bennet.”

  “I believe that much is already evident,” said Smallwood, a gentleman of an estate of some size said from where he stood by their side. “The area is abuzz with the pretty young miss from the south having captured the elusive Mr. Darcy’s attention.”

  “Abuzz?” asked Darcy, turning a frown on Smallwood.

  “Perhaps Smallwood overstates the matter,” interjected Fordham, another man of the area. “But it is well known that you have been calling on her.”

  “And why should he not?” asked Smallwood. “I have heard it said that she has not much dowry, but one would give much to be able to gaze into those eyes of hers every day.”

  Fordham shrugged. “She is a little too impertinent for my taste, though I will grant you that she has pretty eyes.”

  “Some men prefer an impertinent wife,” said Fitzwilliam. “Better that than a dull wife who will bore you into a stupor on a daily basis.”

  “I believe a little placidity would go a long way in a wife,” said Wainwright, joining the conversation.

  “I prefer the term ‘lively’ to ‘impertinent,” said Darcy. “There is nothing improper about Miss Bennet, and impertinence suggests less than proper behavior. As for placidity, I prefer a woman with whom I can speak on an equal level. Placid might be fine, but I expect it would become tedious quite quickly.”

  “Your preference for liveliness is quite clear, Darcy,” said Smallwood, laughing. “And I commend you for seeing her worth and snapping her up so quickly. Had I been more observant when she came, I might have given you some competition.”

  Darcy turned to look at Smallwood, wondering if there was a hidden meaning in his words.

  The man only laughed. “You have nothing to fear from me. Anyone who has seen you in company these past weeks knows which way the wind blows. I would not attempt to turn her from you, even if I possessed the lure of a larger income. And whereas you are independent with an estate of your own, any lady I court will be required to contend with my father for a goodly number of years yet.”

  “Only be certain that it is your person which has attracted her and not your pocketbook,” said Wainwright. “A young lady in her reputed circumstances would give much to be the recipient of the addresses of a man of your situation.”

  “I doubt Miss Bennet is such a woman,” said Smallwood.

  “It is difficult to tell,” rejoined Fordham. “A woman may hide much in her heart while in pursuit of a man’s fortune.”

  “Anyone who has the pleasure of Miss Bennet’s acquaintance can have no thoughts of her being mercenary,” averred Fitzwilliam.

  “Such beliefs are a recipe for disaster,” said Fordham.

  “She is not a fortune hunter,” said Darcy, feeling obliged to defend her, though he was not certain she wished her private matters to be bandied about. “I have it on good authority that she refused a very eligible offer only last autumn.”

  “Better and better,” said Smallwood.

  “Were you given the reason for her actions?” asked Wainwright.

  “And is your authority anyone other than the woman herself?” added Fordham.

  “She claimed incompatibility with the man,” said Darcy. “As he is the heir to her father’s entailed estate—a distant cousin, as I understand—it was an eligible match. And yes, my friend, Bingley, who is married to her elder sister, has corroborated the story.”

  “Refused her father’s heir?” asked Wainwright with a frown. “I might think her a simpleton were I not already acquainted with her.”

  “I also understand this man is our Aunt Catherine’s parson,” said Fitzwilliam. “Given what I know of the obsequious oafs with whom she prefers to surround herself, I cannot think Miss Bennet anything other than completely sensible!”

  There was a murmuring of commiseration for Fitzwilliam’s words. The previous year, Lady Catherine and her daughter had descended on Pemberley without warning, and as Darcy had been hosting many of the gentlemen of the nearby estates at the time—and all three had been present—they had all had a firsthand taste of what the woman was like.

  “If this is true, then she is everything she appears to be,” said Wainwright, albeit a little grudgingly. “In your situation, you need not care whether she has a healthy dowry, unlike some of this company.”

  “Some will wonder at your decision, if she brings so little to a marriage.”

  The content of the conversation amused Darcy, and he was not afraid to show it. “That presupposes the thought of society’s disapprobation will give me a moment’s hesitation.”

  “Perhaps you do not care,” said Fordham. “But what of your wife? She will need some familiarity with London society, some acceptance from them or her time in London will be difficult.”

  “My mother will support her,” declared Fitzwilliam. “She will be so happy that Darcy is marrying—especially considering my single state and that of my brother—she will not care from whence the girl came, as long as she is a gentleman’s daughter.”

  “I doubt many will care to disparage her to her face anyway,” said Darcy with a nod of thanks to his cousin. “I have some standing in society, and the Darcy name is not to be trifled with.”

  “You are correct, indeed,” said Smallwood, clapping Darcy on the back. “I, for one, wish you well in it.”

  “I am not engaged,” replied Darcy, feeling he should pull back on this conversation a little.

  “No, but I have little doubt you soon will be,” replied Smallwood.

  At that moment, a tug on Fordham’s line indicated the presence of a fish, and the gentlemen’s attention was captured by the struggle between man and beast. Throughout the course of that morning, the gentlemen succeeded in catching several beautiful trout, which were to be sent to the kitchens to be prepared with cook’s special recipe and served at a late lunch. Darcy was relieved to have the conversation redirected—if the talk was becoming as prevalent as the others were saying, his honor might soon be engaged, and he had not yet decided.

  In the deep recesses of his heart, though, a small sibilant voice whispered to him that he had already made a choice. He was only waiting for his mind to catch up to his heart.

  When the gentlemen had finished their sport for the day, they returned to where the ladies were still engaged in their games, and that was when the tenor of the event changed a little. Since Darcy had begun to pay attention to Miss Bennet, he had noticed a lessening of the notice he received from the ladies of the neighborhood. Until that day he had not truly thought of the matter, though now he wondered if he were witless to have missed it. Or perhaps he had just been too absorbed in the charms of Miss Bennet. Either way, it had been some time since he had been forced to fend off the attentions of all but the most determined flirts. Unfortunately, Miss Russell was one of those.

  “Mr. Darcy,” said she, showing him a coquettish smile as he approached with the other men. “Shall you play against me at bowls?”

  The sight of his sister, who was standing not far away, an expression of annoyance with Miss Russell etched upon her face, caught him off guard. But Georgiana only noted his look and looked skyward before turning her attention back to Miss Drummond, with whom she was speaking.

  “Of course, Miss Russell,” his sense of polite behavior overcoming his aversi
on for her company. “Please allow me a moment to see to the disposition of the fish we have caught, and I will be at your disposal.”

  The girl beamed at him and Darcy stepped away to speak with a nearby footman. When he returned, they stood nearby to where a game was already in progress, and Darcy noted with an admiring glance that Miss Bennet was quite skilled. She was playing against Miss Grant, whose character Darcy had always thought Miss Bennet resembled.

  “It seems you have caught many fish, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Russell, bringing his attention back to her. “I knew you would. I do not know any other man who would have done as well as you.”

  It was an outrageous statement, though nothing Darcy had not heard before. He gave her some answer, though he was so intent upon Miss Bennet that he was not even certain what he said, but he was certain it was as silly as her own comment had been. Miss Russell did not seem to notice his incivility, for she continued to chatter on. Darcy heard little of what she said, though he was certain that it consisted of mostly praises of himself and his sister.

  She was not unattractive, Darcy decided, looking absently between Miss Russell and Miss Bennet. Miss Russell was taller, but she was willowy, not unlike Georgiana’s form, whereas Miss Bennet was more diminutive and while still slender, was possessed of a curvier figure. The ladies’ looks were also quite different, as Miss Russell had reddish hair framing fair and pleasant, though not precisely pretty, features. On the other hand, Miss Bennet was exquisite, with mahogany locks, and while she was also fair, her skin was slightly darkened by the time she spent in the sun, lending her the aura of health and vigor.

  Where they differed was in their eyes. Miss Russell’s were light blue, but there was nothing extraordinary in them, in Darcy’s opinion. By contrast, Miss Bennet’s were dark and mysterious, gloriously framed by long, luscious lashes. Her eyes also changed with her moods, sparkling like a spring brook when amused, or flashing like the strike of lightning when offended. They were her true claim to beauty, and Darcy could not imagine anyone finding them anything other than entrancing.