Page 7 of A Cleverly (Un)contrived Compromise (Love’s Little Helpers #3)
CHAPTER 7
E lizabeth’s triumph did not come without cost. So distracted had she been with Mr. Darcy— insufferable man! —she had forgotten to check her younger sisters. Of course, the girls had lost no time in finding a pack of officers and had placed themselves at the center. They laughed so loud that Elizabeth wondered how they did not lose their voices. Would that they did!
Even after Elizabeth retrieved them, whining and pouting, from the bevy of soldiers, Kitty and especially Lydia were indecorously boisterous. Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy’s disdain everywhere she went. Being taller than most, he was easy to spot in the crush. Always, his gaze followed her, criticizing and vexingly superior.
To make matters worse, Mr. Bingley had only danced once with Jane. Granted, it was the opening dance, but if Jane’s hopes were not to be crushed that evening, she needed more assurance. If only Mr. Darcy did not intimidate anyone brave enough to approach Mr. Bingley. It would serve that surly gentleman right if Elizabeth dragged Kitty and Lydia over to him. She would love to see how he managed that !
But allowing Mr. Bingley to see the flaws of her family so closely would only hurt Jane’s chances, so Elizabeth kept at a distance and tried to ignore the heat that crawled up her neck into her cheeks every time her eyes met Mr. Darcy’s.
Hours passed, supper was served, and she looked longingly at her calm friend, Charlotte, who sat with her family. Elizabeth maneuvered Kitty to join her. Charlotte was steady, and Kitty’s behavior always improved without Lydia’s influence.
Elizabeth wished she could join them. Pretending to enjoy herself while subduing Lydia and quieting her mother began to wear Elizabeth thin. She nearly cried when it was time to return to the cacophony of the ballroom. Plastering a smile on her face, Elizabeth readied herself to dance on aching feet. She had already lined up several suitable and mannerly gentlemen from among their neighbors to keep her sisters entertained.
“Lizzy.” Kitty tugged on her arm before they passed the archway leading back to the ballroom. “I have a message from Charlotte for you, but I only have a moment before Mr. Denny claims me for the next set.”
“Mr. Denny?” He was not one of their neighbors, but he seemed like a decent sort. “Who is dancing with Lydia?”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “Charlotte wished to speak to you, but you left the dining room too soon.”
Elizabeth would not be distracted this late in the evening. “Kitty, I asked with whom Lydia is going to dance.”
“Charlotte has some news to relay to you regarding Mr. Bingley,” Kitty said, still not answering her question. She must have noticed Elizabeth’s impatience. With another roll of her eyes, Kitty gestured to where Lydia stood with Mr. Chamberlayne. “See? Mr. Chamberlayne has claimed Lydia’s next set. Surely you cannot disapprove of him. Come, Lizzy, Charlotte said she has useful intelligence.”
Lydia waved at Kitty to join them. Mr. Denny was there, too, adding credibility to Kitty’s claims.
“Charlotte said she has useful intelligence?” Although Elizabeth was still suspicious, this was the sort of phrase Charlotte might use. It would hardly have originated with Kitty. Charlotte knew that Jane’s heart had been touched by Mr. Bingley; she had seen it for herself at the Meryton assembly. Had she learned something new?
“Yes, she begged for you to meet her in Mr. Bingley’s book room.”
“In his library?” If Charlotte wished to say anything she did not wish others to overhear, the room tired fathers went to nap in relative quiet was not a good choice.
Lydia’s gestures got wilder. Kitty shuffled her feet. “No, not the library. His study. The one farthest away and quieter.”
That was even stranger. “That is a private room. Why would she wish to meet me there?”
Kitty shrugged. “It will not be occupied, and like I said, it will be quiet. You know where it is, do you not?”
“Yes, but does Charlotte?”
Another shrug. “She must if she suggested it.”
“Then she would also know the room is certain to be locked. Mr. Bingley’s study is in the residence wing.”
This time, a shrug and an eye roll. “I am only repeating to you what she told me.”
Just then, a group of ladies disbanded and Charlotte came into view. Perfect. “There she is. I shall go to her now.”
Kitty’s eyes widened. “But—but then you would never get away!” Indeed, Kitty was right. None other than Mr. Collins formed a part of Charlotte’s group. “I heard him tell Mama that he meant to ask you for another dance.”
Elizabeth shivered. One dance with Mr. Collins was bad enough, but she could not allow him to single her out in his attentions by requesting another.
Still, Elizabeth’s suspicions were not easily appeased. Was this one of Lydia’s tricks? She had been emphatic in stating that she would make Elizabeth pay for attempting to spoil her fun. Kitty would lie for Lydia—but Charlotte? Of all the places to have a private conversation, why choose Mr. Bingley’s study? It was sure to be locked.
Then again, what would it hurt to have a look? If the door was locked, Elizabeth would hurry downstairs well before the dance ended. No harm would be done. If it was open, she would wait for a few minutes. Enjoy the reprieve. Rest her feet. “Very well. I shall go as Charlotte says if you will signal to her that I am waiting. I cannot be away for too long”—she gave Kitty a pointed look—”as you well know.”
“Yes, yes, only hurry or I shall miss my set with Mr. Denny.” Kitty scampered across the room to take her place among her waiting party.
Several couples rushed to take their places in the cotillion, forming clusters of eight.
Elizabeth hesitated. Something was not quite right.
The crowd parted, and she saw Mr. Darcy walking in her direction, his dark eyes unmistakably fixed on her. He looked no happier to seek her out than she did in being sought.
Why was he approaching her? Surely he did not mean to ask her to dance. Elizabeth’s stomach flip flopped. Mr. Darcy’s every word and action was calculated. If he approached her, he had a purpose, and Elizabeth did not presently feel up to the challenge of crossing swords with the gentleman. She needed ammunition. She needed Charlotte’s “useful intelligence.”
Taking advantage of the crowd, Elizabeth made herself small and, spinning around, she weaved toward the stairs through gesturing gentlemen and ladies waving fans. The hall at the top of the landing was dark, so she was doubly surprised when she reached the door of Mr. Bingley’s study and found it open. Still cautious, Elizabeth peeked inside, allowing her vision to adjust to the darkness. “Is anyone here?”
Nothing but quiet. She entered, crossing the floor to pull the curtains aside and allow what little of the moon’s glimmer through as the fogged glass permitted.
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth listened to the dimmed laughter and music drifting up from below. The tension in her shoulders eased. She would stay just a few minutes.
Taking a seat by the fireplace in the darkest corner of the room, Elizabeth settled into the soft cushions of a chair, propping her sore feet on a cushioned footstool. She prayed that Mr. Collins would not keep her friend longer than the twenty-five minutes or so Elizabeth could afford to wait before returning to her vigil. She prayed even harder that Charlotte bore good news.