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Georgette agreed, but Lilly was one of the most well-bred ladies of her acquaintance and was as unlikely to slight a person with an unkind look as with an unkind word.

It was notable, therefore, that Saye was able to so easily discern her impatience.

“As long as you are sure she will not be equally repulsed by your willingness to abandon her to it.”

Saye blinked at her twice, then turned on his heel and crossed the room, barking orders for the guests to take their places and the feast to begin.

“I am heartily sorry, my love.”

Georgette smiled at the warmth of Anderson so close behind her and his deep voice in her ear.

“You ought to be,” she replied under her breath. “We shall both have to stay and eat on the floor now.”

“What can I say? Other than to confess an embarrassing dread of anything with more than four legs.”

“How about things with no tongues? I almost bit mine off, thanks to you.”

He pressed more heavily against her. “I am excessively relieved you did not.” Then he was gone, walking away across the room to seat himself next to Miss Hilgrove.

Georgette breathed deeply, savouring the thrill he always instilled in her, before she turned to reassure her friends that she was recovered and search out her allocated patch of floor.

“Are you sure you are well?” Elizabeth enquired, finding her seat next to Georgette’s. “You look rather flushed still.”

Georgette arranged herself as elegantly as possible, which was not very, on the scant cushions provided, and wished she had foregone the hindrance of stays, for in this attitude, it would not be long before hers cut off the circulation to something vital.

“I have a confession to make. It was not a genuine swoon. I availed myself of your future husband’s arms quite without necessity. ”

Elizabeth observably wavered between disbelief and disapproval. “I see. But...you were bleeding.”

“Yes, that was unfortunate. I had intended to be caught, you see, only not by your Mr Darcy. I do apologise.” Seeing her new friend glance around the room, she added, “I shall not admit who was meant to catch me, even if you guess correctly.”

“Oh, I would never presume to?—”

“Yes you would, and I do not blame you. I would be eaten up with curiosity too, if such a delicious secret were dangled before me. Suffice it to say it seemed a preferable arrangement to squatting here, attempting not to drip pig’s blood into my lap.”

“Lord Saye certainly has some unusual ideas about entertaining,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh, though she looked rather more alarmed than amused.

“My cousin likes to shock people, but done too often, the outrageous quickly becomes tedious.”

“Count me as very much still shocked.”

“It will wear off.”

Mr Withers abruptly startled the gathering with a loud cry and leant sideways, pulling a shard of shattered earthenware from beneath his cushion. “Piffling thing! Almost caused me a mischief!”

“Apologies, Withers,” Saye called to him. “The servants must have missed that piece when they were cleaning up after the pre-dinner ruckus.”

Anderson paused briefly in his conversation to nod apologetically at both men, but otherwise allowed the moment to pass by without further fuss. Always he knew how best to avoid a scene. Provided there are no bugs involved, Georgette reflected wryly.

“Poor Mr Anderson. That was a most unfortunate encounter earlier,” Elizabeth said.

“Indeed, it was,” Georgette agreed. “Thank goodness Sarah was here to save the day. Who knows how many more urns he would have smashed trying to squash the horrid thing otherwise?”

“True, though I thought he took it in remarkably good spirits, considering. He seems an agreeable gentleman. Admirable, too, for he runs a charitable home for poorly children out of his own pocket.”

Georgette looked at her sharply. “How do you know that?”

“Why, he—he told me,” Elizabeth replied, all agitation until her expression hardened into disapproval. “But perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it. I understand such activities are not palatable to everyone.”

Georgette almost laughed to find herself being scolded in Anderson’s defence. She was liking Elizabeth better by the moment and noted with some amusement how much more alluring she was rendered by the glint of challenge in her eyes . I should wager this is the woman Mr Darcy truly admires!

“I am only surprised he told you,” she said calmly. “I have been acquainted with Mr Anderson for some years, and I have not often heard him speak of it.”

The tension dissipated from Elizabeth’s frame, and she smiled placatingly. “He was attempting to put me at ease on my first night here, for which I was exceedingly grateful. But what a shame he feels he cannot speak openly about such a worthy endeavour.”

Georgette considered carefully how to answer, but in the end judged that the truth would likely persuade Elizabeth to keep silent on the matter better than anything else.

She turned and made a show of plumping her cushions so she could speak discreetly.

“His older brother, Matthew, suffered a childhood illness that left him severely crippled. It was widely believed his intellectual faculties had been damaged as well because his speech was affected by facial paralysis. That was untrue, but society is cruel and unforgiving.”

She ran out of cushions to plump so began on Elizabeth’s.

“His parents felt compelled to keep Matthew hidden away to allow people to forget, which they did, until he died ten years later, and Mrs Anderson lost her wits to grief. She was committed to Bedlam and did not come out alive. Her husband never recovered from the shame, which was heaped upon them in spades by all their connexions.”

Georgette gave one last, violent thump to the pillows and sat straight to meet Elizabeth’s eyes. “Upon his father’s death, Mr Anderson opened his institution in his brother’s memory, but you will comprehend why he does not advertise his involvement.”

Elizabeth nodded, visibly affected. “I value his telling me about it even more now I know the significance.”

“He is a kind soul.”

“He is. How are you acquainted with him?”

“Our fathers were friends—once upon a time.” Beginning to feel she had said too much on the subject, Georgette leant to pluck a fig from a nearby tray and said with forced ebullience, “Mr Darcy is staring at you again.”

Elizabeth dipped her head bashfully. “I know.”

“He is not very subtle, is he? I suppose he does not have to be. Men such as he may admire whomever they choose, once they make their minds up to do so. They do not know how fortunate they are. Why on earth does your father not approve?”

“I cannot say that I know. He speaks of inconstancy and caprice, which he attributes to Mr Darcy having left Hertfordshire for a while before coming back to propose, but in truth, I think Papa simply does not wish to let me go. His quibbles are ridiculous. Mr Darcy and I have suffered the scrutiny of most of Hertfordshire and London, and he has not tired of me yet.”

Georgette picked up her glass and gestured with it to her cousins. “Well, you never know, society may have one or two new pairings to amaze them soon, and you will be old news.”

“That would please me very well. I should like to return to anonymity.”

Georgette smiled broadly. “I hear it has many perquisites.” Glancing again at the pained manner in which Mr Darcy was staring at Elizabeth—as though he wished to throw aside his plate and lunge across the floor to take her there and then—she added, “Perhaps you ought to try some of them—before Mr Darcy begins to crack.”

She left Elizabeth puzzling over her meaning and turned to engage Lord Mickels, who had slid, still possessively clutching his wine glass, down his pile of cushions till he was almost fully recumbent and appeared to be struggling to remain conscious.

Anderson slipped away from the gathering easily enough.

Going unnoticed in public was a skill he had perfected long ago, and he doubted he would be missed.

Georgette would struggle more, for she was always the focus of a good deal of attention, but he did not doubt she would manage it.

She was an exceedingly resourceful woman .

He made his way through mostly darkened rooms, half convinced he was going in the wrong direction; Matlock was confusing enough in daylight, never mind the gloom of late evening.

Nevertheless, the noise of revelry gradually faded behind him, and the occasional shaft of moonlight through a window guided him, at length, to the library.

To his surprise, the dim glow of candlelight leached from within when he opened the door.

He tentatively stepped inside, then laughed with relief.

Somehow, though she had been surrounded by at least half a dozen people when he left her in the drawing room, Georgette had beaten him here.

Her face lit when she saw him, and she flew into his embrace as though it were the first time they had been in company since Michaelmas.

He wrapped his arms around the slender waist he loved so well and pulled her tightly to him.

“How did you manage to get here first?” he asked once he had kissed her enough to assuage the most insistent of the desires he had been suppressing all evening.

“Secret passages.” She grinned wickedly. “Should you like me to show you one?”

Anderson groaned; the woman would be the death of him. He kissed her neck, speaking between touches. “And there I was expecting a set down for not catching you.”

She did not reply and only held him more tightly, her head pressed heavily against his shoulder and her arms squeezing his ribs .

He ceased his caresses and leant sideways in an attempt to see her countenance better. “Is anything the matter?”

She shook her head but said nothing.

“Georgette, has something happened?”

“Only that I have found the most wonderful man in all the world to love me.”

“Who?” he demanded in a deliberately urgent tone, even as warmth suffused his chest. “Tell me where to find the blackguard, and I shall call him out this instant.”

Georgette let out a magnificent, deep throated giggle, and it had the same effect on him as it always did. Clutching his lapels, she lifted her face to his. “’Tis you, and you know it. I love everything you do, everything you stand for, and I love, most of all, the way you love me.”

“I am heartened to hear it, but what has you in such a sentimental humour?”

“I think it is being surrounded by all these other gentlemen.” His opinion of that admission must have shown on his face, for she laughed aloud and added, “Not in that way. It is seeing you in comparison to them. All their posturing and indecision has made me grateful for your conviction. You did not make me wait around, guessing and hoping. You did not leave me to wonder whether or not you loved me. And you certainly did not insult me instead of proposing.”

“Are you feeling deprived of all the fuss?” he teased. “Should you really prefer me to insult you? ”

“No, thank you.”

“How about your family? I could start with your father.” He returned his attention to her neck. “He is an enormous cockchafer.”

“Stop being silly,” she said, laughing. “I only mean that I appreciate how decided you were in your affections. You never doubted my worth, or your feelings for me.”

He leant back and regarded her incredulously. “Georgette, there has never been room in my heart for doubt. You owned me from the very first moment of our acquaintance. You are magnificent.”

“Yes, I know. But you are good. Truly good. What you have done for those children is deserving of the highest praise. It breaks my heart that you should be vilified for caring.”

“I do not do it for praise.”

“Precisely. You are everything that is noble. The perfect gentleman.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “I was not particularly gentleman-like to your friend Miss Bentley earlier. I must apologise for speaking to her so uncivilly. She and I did not share the same apprehension for the damned beetle.”

“Do not be anxious for Sarah—she is made of tough stuff. Besides, I doubt she would have flinched had she actually been required to shove her hands beneath your shirt.”

“I do not believe that for a moment! She is the most innocent woman I have ever met.”

“That is the problem. Her naivety makes her dangerously inquisitive. I tell you, if she wonders one more time what it must be like to be kissed by someone, I shall do it myself just to stop her asking.”

He smirked, stirred by the fact that he was not quite sure whether she was joking. “Well, she does have a singularly attractive way of frowning when she is concentrating.”

Georgette’s eyes flashed, and her wicked smile returned. “I am glad you have been able to enjoy your company so well, sir. You certainly took a shine to Miss Bennet, telling her all about your children.”

He pulled her closer. “Hmm, I like her very well. She has beautiful eyes, have you noticed?”

“I have, as it happens. She will make an excellent wife for Mr Darcy, who, by the by, has exceptionally pleasing arms.”

Anderson did not answer. Instead, he kissed her, as hard as he had wished to since she had come down to dinner in her heart-stopping gown, and he reeled at the passion with which she responded.

She pressed herself so firmly against him that he staggered back a step.

Then he took her face in both his hands and walked her backwards across the library, never breaking his caress, until they reached the large sofa in the corner beneath the balcony ladder.

He would have pulled her down onto it to continue in more comfort had not the sound of voices cut short their pleasure.

She stared at him, her lips parted, her breaths short, and devilry dancing in her eyes, as whomever it was passed by.

“Well, well, Miss Hawkridge,” he murmured once the voices had gone. “I do believe you are enjoying all this skulking around.”

“Had you not better make haste, Mr Anderson?” she replied breathlessly. “You would not like to be caught in the act of ruining me.”

He did then lower them to the sofa, where he lavished her with attentions enough to be certain she was thinking of nobody’s arms but his.