Page 18

“Lilly? Come and meet Miss Bennet,” called Georgette, and Lilly crossed the room, eager to do so.

Miss Bennet sat in the middle of a settee with Mr Darcy looming behind her. She rose as Lilly came over, revealing she was a bit shorter than Lilly herself was, but very pretty. Not beautiful, perhaps, but pretty enough.

The two ladies curtseyed to one another, and then Lady Aurelia, who had been sitting next to Miss Bennet, was summoned by Mrs Ambrose, Matlock’s housekeeper.

She excused herself, offering Lilly her seat.

Lilly settled into it. Georgette was on her other side, and leant over saying, “Miss Bennet has been telling us all about how she met Mr Darcy.”

“Have I missed a good tale?”

Georgette snorted. “An unconventional tale to be sure.” She looked over her shoulder, “Really, Mr Darcy, that first proposal sounded positively ghastly.”

Lilly’s eyes widened. In her experience, people did not speak so to Mr Darcy, and she wondered what icily terrifying jaw-me-dead might now rain down upon them.

But Mr Darcy, shockingly, laughed. “What can I say? She had me tongue-tied from the first.”

“I must admit,” Miss Bennet said, “he has proven far more garrulous than I ever imagined, since our engagement.” She said it with a smile over her shoulder at Mr Darcy, and Lilly noticed how much prettier she was when she smiled. She has very sparkly eyes , she observed. Mr Darcy must like that.

But her observations of Miss Bennet were halted as the door opened and Saye entered. Lilly tried not to stiffen, but she did. Determinedly, she turned her sights away from him, shifting in her seat so she would not see him.

“How do you find Derbyshire, Miss Bennet?” she asked. “I am sorry, I do not know where you are from.”

“My father’s estate is called Longbourn.”

“You must tell me all about it,” Lilly said kindly, then looked with intent interest while Miss Bennet spoke of her sisters and the numerous rivers and how the entire place had four-and-twenty families.

All the while Lilly fancied that Saye’s eyes were boring into her back, but when she chanced to glance over, he was talking to Sir Phineas.

Arguing with him, it looked like. Ugh, why did she care?

Determinedly, she turned back to Miss Bennet and asked about her wedding arrangements.

Evidently this ground had already been covered with the other ladies.

Georgette rose and said she was going to get some more coffee, and was instantly engulfed by at least three gentlemen, all offering to fetch one for her.

Miss Morgan, who had been sitting in silence on Georgette’s opposite side, also rose, murmuring something about who knew what.

Mr Darcy leant down and whispered something, then said, “Excuse me,” to Lilly and left the two ladies alone.

“I understand that you surprised Mr Darcy,” said Lilly. “How did you manage it? It is no easy distance, all that way.”

“Lord Saye surely made it as easy as it could possibly be,” said Miss Bennet. “He made certain of all the details of my travel.”

“My invitation came from Lady Aurelia,” Lilly protested. “Surely yours did as well?”

“The invitation did, yes, but when I informed Lady Aurelia that my father would not permit me?—”

“He did not?”

Miss Bennet shook her head and with a regretful smile said, “My father has been difficult about my engagement, to say the least. My mother was required to conspire with Lord Saye, and she was quite pleased with herself to be scheming with a viscount.”

“Saye?” Lilly scoffed. “I assure you, it was likely his secretary. Not Saye himself. He likely just waved his hand about and said, ‘see it done’.”

“I do not think so,” Miss Bennet replied. “I am no expert, of course, but the notes and the directions all seemed to be in his hand.”

“And so you are here against your father’s wishes?” Lilly exclaimed. “ That part of it does seem like Saye—he delights in thwarting people. ”

“My mother was delighted to become his ally in thwarting Papa in this instance,” said Miss Bennet. “I have two yet-unmarried sisters at home, and it is a wonder my mother did not contrive to have them here too! I should not be a bit surprised if I opened my trunk and one of them popped out!”

The two ladies laughed comfortably, but Lilly was perplexed. Saye, attending to details? Saye, caring about something wholly unrelated to him? Saye, seeing to someone’s comfort?

“You are not fond of Lord Saye?” Miss Bennet asked. “Forgive me—I only ask because it seemed so, from your previous comments.”

“Oh, all of these young bucks about town.” Lilly rolled her eyes. “I daresay you were not much in London?”

Miss Bennet shook her head.

“They gad about running up debts and trifling with hearts, and then, once they cannot avoid it any longer, they marry. Trust me, Miss Bennet,” said Lilly, “you managed to secure one of the few good men around.”

“Now that is a grim picture indeed,” Miss Bennet exclaimed. “But surely Lord Saye is not?—”

“The worst of the worst,” Lilly said. “He once gambled seven thousand pounds away!”

“To my brother,” Saye announced, arriving behind them. Both ladies startled guiltily. “I lost the money to Fitzwilliam, you know, and if you think I could not have trounced him soundly, you are as much a fool as he is. ”

“Hey!” Fitzwilliam had also arrived at the settee, but took the liberty of sliding himself in next to Miss Bennet. Lilly was surprised by his boldness, but Miss Bennet did not seem so. “It was not seven thousand in truth, only the tattle had it so.”

“How much was it then?” Lilly asked, not caring if she seemed a little rude to ask so plainly.

Saye smiled at her but only said, “It was not seven thousand. Not nearly.”

“It was above five thousand,” Fitzwilliam interjected. “And if the truth be known, I had got myself in a bind and needed my dear brother to help me. And he did, and even afforded me the dignity of imagining I had won it, and for that I am most grateful.”

It was curious, Lilly thought, how awkward and discomfited Saye looked at this tale of his kindness.

“But enough of that! Did you hear,” Saye said, “how that Ackers fellow had his front teeth removed?”

A nice change of subject it was, indeed, for the ladies recoiled in horror and the men laughed, and Mr Darcy returned to hear how Mr Ackers was so fond of racing about London, fingering the ribbons like some coachman, that he wished to be able to spit like a coachman as well.

Soon enough, nearly the whole room had gathered to tell extraordinary tales of the antics of the Four-in-Hand Club, persons they had reportedly run down on the street, and enormous feasts they were supposed to have eaten .

“But all that is nothing,” Saye announced, “to the feast I have planned for two nights hence. Who here…?”

He let the sentence dangle, no doubt hoping to tantalise them all.

“…has ever heard of a feast of aha?aina ?”

“What?” Mr Darcy asked.

“He is speaking gibberish,” Fitzwilliam announced. “Does this have something to do with that pit I saw them digging near the orangery? You know Father will have your head if that ruins Mother’s gardenias.”

“It will be long gone by the time Mama’s gardenias can be prevailed upon to care,” Saye retorted. “But do hear me. This is a feast of a tribe in Polynesia, and we shall roast a pig in that pit and sit on the floor for our meal.”

The room immediately erupted in protest and shock, which was, no doubt, Saye’s first object. Evidently savages liked to dance half naked whilst they all shoved strange foods into their mouths with their hands.

“And we shall learn their dances,” Saye added, only heightening the appalled protests of the room. “See here, the women at these feasts are generally half-naked as well, so at least I have not gone so far as that!”

Lilly rolled her eyes. It was a good thing Saye had revealed this strange notion, for she had nearly begun to think him rational for a moment. Divert them, shock them, disgust them, and then gossip about it—these were the tenets of Saye, and so would ever be.

The crapulence from the champagne she drank earlier had begun to wear off, leaving a headache behind. Thoughts of her soft pillow and warm bed were increasingly appealing, and she knew she would do best to go up before she was too tired to even undergo her night-time toilette.

Rising, she said goodnight to the others, noting that Saye scarcely gave her a look, just waggled his fingers towards her as he launched off into some story about his friend Sir Frederick Moore. With a sigh, she left them, walking out into the hall and moving towards the stair.

Her progress was arrested by the sounds of a familiar voice coming from the direction of the vestibule. No, surely not…

Quickening her pace, she went to the front of the house, finding Lady Aurelia standing with the housekeeper and some unexpected—and from the look on Lady Aurelia’s face, unwelcome—guests: Mr Balton-Sycke and his younger sister.

Her footsteps slowed. “This is a surprise,” she said as she approached them.

“Miss Goddard.” He bowed. “So very good to see you!”

“Your friend was just telling me of some difficulty with the weather,” Lady Aurelia said. “He is concerned for their travel onward, so I have, of course, insisted they must remain the night.”

This appeared to be Mr Balton-Sycke’s cue to babble about bridges and rain and muddy roads while Miss Balton-Sycke gawped about at the splendour of Matlock, not even bothering to disguise her awe. Lilly swallowed against a feeling of disgust that their behaviour gave her.

With Lady Aurelia occupied in instructing the housekeeper in the preparation of rooms for the two new guests, and Miss Balton-Sycke staring about, Lilly took the opportunity to greet her suitor quietly.

“It is very good to see you. What a good brother you are, seeing to your sister’s comfort in this way. ”

She forced herself to smile brightly at him, to make herself feel as glad to see him as she purported to be. He smiled back and she had, suddenly, the most wicked recollection of Saye kissing her earlier, with the taste of champagne and strawberries sweetening his lips.

“Are you well?” Balton-Sycke asked her very gravely. “You seem to have high colour.”

“Perfectly well,” she said. “I am only sorry you missed dinner. We had a most delightful feast of lobster, and strawberries and?—”

“Strawberries? Oh no,” he said as though she had just said they had eaten plague-ridden rats.

“They were delicious, I assure you.”

“One should never eat berries out of season,” he informed her. “Imbalances the humours. I am certain that is why you look flushed.”

Saye had fed her the strawberries, paying her outrageous compliments all the while about her pretty hands and rosebud lips. Utter nonsense, all of it but...yes, it did indeed leave her flushed. Blame it on the strawberries , she thought with an agreeable nod at Balton-Sycke.

Of all the absolute indignity and nonsense. Aurelia is an idiot.

As if Lilly retiring early was not insult enough, Aurelia had come back into the drawing room with the unwelcome news that the Balton-Syckes were to spend the night.

Saye had scarcely a moment to rebuke his fool sister, for Ball-Sack entered the drawing room almost immediately. “Dreadful sorry to intrude,” he said with a look that was not in the least apologetic. Evidently his sister had been one of a party at Longcliffe, and Ball-Sack had gone to retrieve her.

“We had only just set out?—”

“At night?” Saye interrupted, not bothering to disguise his peevishness. “Peculiar business to set out at night.”

“We intended only to make Derby,” the scourge said with an apologetic grin. “But this deuced rain began to come down like nothing I have ever seen. The bridge is washed out near Starkholmes, so we had either to return to Longcliffe...or come here. I hope it is no trouble?”

In truth, Saye thought it might have done well if Ball-Sack had simply slid his landau off into a muddy ravine somewhere.

Then again, that might have harmed his horses, and Saye could not abide reckless endangerment of good horseflesh.

Grudgingly, Saye said, “Of course you must stay the night. We would not have it otherwise.”