Page 55

They broke apart and looked down the hill. A small army of people was making its way towards them, Saye and Fitzwilliam at its lead. They were closely followed by Mr and Mrs Darcy, Miss Goddard, and Miss Bentley. Behind them came several servants, pulling more toboggans, all loaded with supplies.

“What are you doing here?” Georgette called. Anderson could easily discern her delight. She wore joy like jewellery—only he had yet to see her wear a diamond that enhanced her beauty as well her own smile.

“A little bird told me you were up here, tobogganing without us,” Saye replied.

“Do you mind, Georgette?” asked Miss Goddard. “I am sorry if we have interrupted, only it sounded such fun.”

“Of course we do not mind,” Georgette replied. “But you will have to be braver than you were when my brother took you for a ride in his curricle. ’Tis fast going down—I have already fallen off once.”

Saye looked positively aghast. “Lilly, I absolutely forbid you from riding in my cousin’s curricle ever again. Hawk is an oaf who cannot drive to save his life.”

“My brother is not an oaf,” Georgette objected.

It was a sentiment with which Anderson could not entirely agree. “Saye is right, though—he cannot drive for toffee. It must be a family failing.”

Georgette pouted, but Fitzwilliam laughed heartily and slapped Anderson on the shoulder. “You’ve the measure of your new family, it seems. Welcome aboard.”

A glib observation, but it provoked Anderson to ponder the truth of it. Georgette saw her brothers but rarely, yet he could foresee that he would be spending a good deal more time in the present company .

“Come on then, Georgette,” Miss Bentley announced, already gamely tugging one of the toboggans into position. “First to the bottom wins.”

Georgette took a moment to glance warmly at Anderson and squeeze his arm, then she was off, teasing her friend as she took the advantage on the descent.

There were five toboggans between them, and after some hasty jostling, Georgette and Miss Bentley were followed down the hill by Mrs Darcy, her husband, and Fitzwilliam.

Anderson watched in amusement for a moment, but when he turned to remark on the latter two’s repeated attempts to unseat each other, he was arrested by what he saw.

Saye and Miss Goddard were quietly engaged in directing the servants, who were laying out food and mugs of steaming hot drink on a table.

Anderson smiled. Saye certainly played the part of lord of the manor well.

There was no doubt he played it subtly, when he thought nobody was looking, but Anderson had seen the viscount’s true colours the night he chased him down to deliver his unforgettable set down at the Pig & Feathers.

Veiled as a jape and couched in exhibition and foppery, Saye’s intolerance for any injury to his family had nevertheless been unmistakable.

He was a deeply loyal and deceptively astute man, but above all else, his generosity in patronising the institute in Golder’s Green marked him as a good one.

Indeed, Anderson’s previous opinion of him—a spoilt, dandified creature with little interest in anything but his own pleasure—might have shamed him, had he not been convinced it was a reputation Saye had taken pains to cultivate himself.

Miss Goddard noticed him looking then, and with a conscious smile, brought him one of the mugs of mulled wine. “This was a wonderful idea. I hope you do not mind us obtruding on your time with Georgette.”

“Since your future husband has secured Georgette and me all the time together we could wish for, I am hardly likely to begrudge him—or his lovely future wife—a few hours of our company.”

“Will you marry soon, do you think?”

“As soon as we are able.”

“You had better not marry before me, Anderson. It is galling enough that Darcy has pipped me at the post,” said Saye, coming to join them.

“We shall have our turn soon enough,” Miss Goddard said, attaching herself to Saye’s arm and grinning up at him.

There was something in the way she addressed him, part diverted, part placating, that persuaded Anderson she would make him the ideal wife. She appeared to have seamlessly stepped into her place at Saye’s side, her demure fortitude the perfect foil for his outlandish ways.

“We plan to return to London as soon as the weather allows, and marry from there,” she told Anderson.

Before he could reply, the slope was overrun as the others returned, the ladies laughing, and Darcy and Fitzwilliam complaining breathlessly.

Anderson chuckled to see the pair of them had lugged all five toboggans back up the hill between them in a show of gallantry they looked very much to be regretting.

“Why have you done that?” Saye enquired.

“Manners,” Fitzwilliam panted. “A foreign concept to you, I know.”

“I have manners, little brother. What is more, I have foresight. Or did you think I brought John up here to titillate the ladies with his winsome smile?” He pointed at one of the footmen.

“Bah! You might have sent him down a bit sooner, then!” Fitzwilliam tossed his fistful of leading ropes to the ground and stalked off, returning with a drink in hand.

It was Saye’s turn to race Miss Goddard, and Georgette and Miss Bentley insisted on another turn, apparently having crashed into each other on their first run. Mr and Mrs Darcy went to fetch themselves drinks, leaving Anderson and the colonel alone.

Anderson raised his mug in cheers. “Miss Goddard informs me she and Saye mean to marry in town. Will you and Miss Bentley do likewise?”

“We shall stay here until my parents return. Miss Bentley means to invite her father and brother to visit so we might all become acquainted. Then I daresay we might marry from The Pillows.”

Anderson raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure Miss Bentley would not prefer a more traditional order of events?”

“What—oh!” The colonel gave an abrupt bark of laughter. “The Pillows is old Wendell Bentley’s house in town. Stupid name, I quite agree.”

Anderson was still attempting to recall Miss Bentley’s connexions when Fitzwilliam cleared his throat and spoke again.

“I must thank you for your counsel that day we rode out. I may not have heeded it immediately, but it did, in the end, help direct my resentment in the proper direction. You are a decent man, Anderson. I shall be proud to call you my cousin.”

“Thank you,” he replied, taken aback by the colonel’s forthrightness even as he appreciated it. “The sentiment is mutual, I assure you.”

“Right then,” Fitzwilliam said brusquely. “Are you as good on a toboggan as you are on a horse?”

“Are you hoping to beat me again?”

“Thought I might try.”

They were obliged to wait briefly for another toboggan, but it was soon discovered that neither man could claim any of the same prowess in the snow as they could in the saddle.

Anderson reached the bottom first—but without his toboggan.

The colonel ended up tangled in his halfway down the slope, much to Miss Bentley’s amusement.

Anderson pulled his own toboggan back up the hill, his chest heaving by the time he reached the top .

“We are too old for this,” Darcy complained, twisting as though to release a muscle.

“This gentleman certainly is,” Georgette said with a grin as she handed Anderson a freshly poured drink.

“Too cruel, Georgette! Mr Anderson did not have a servant to pull his toboggan up the hill,” Miss Bentley objected.

“At least I have secured a beautiful woman to nurse me in my dotage.” Anderson brought Georgette’s hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, winking at her as he did.

Miss Bentley watched with unblinking fascination, reminding him what Georgette had said of her friend’s interest in love and its various forms. He scarcely dared imagine what scenes might arise when her unbridled curiosity was met by the colonel’s unwavering frankness.

“Fitzwilliam tells me you are hoping to receive your relations at Matlock,” he said to her. “I am sure they will be delighted when they hear your news.”

“Thank you. Have you sent word to your brother yet?”

Anderson grimaced wryly. “Ah…no. Randalph is unlikely to be interested.”

“That is a shame. What would your older brother have thought?”

Anderson’s insides twisted sharply at the wholly unexpected mention of Matthew. Yet, Miss Bentley was regarding him earnestly, the look in her eyes one of neither pity nor meanness but simple, ingenuous interest. The knot in his stomach eased a little in the face of such unaffected kindness.

“He would have absolutely adored Georgette. I thank you for asking.”

“What about you, Mr Darcy?” Georgette enquired. “Does Miss Darcy know she has a new sister yet?”

“I have written to her,” he replied. “She will be delighted by the news.”

He stated it artlessly—some might say disinterestedly—but then, Darcy was not an effusive man. Indeed, he had a reputation for being serious and exacting. Anderson could see why people might think so, but the past few days had shown him glimpses of a man with far deeper feelings.

After all, a dispassionate man was not likely to be caught slashing a straw dummy to pieces in a jealous pique.

A man who placed no value on connubial felicity would scarcely waste his time or his money salvaging other people’s doomed engagements.

And a man who was all implacable solemnity would not light up, as Darcy had just done, at the mention of taking his beloved new wife home to his cherished sister.

Reserved he may be, but unfeeling he was not.

“I look forward to seeing you in town soon,” Anderson replied and meant it.

“You plan to return directly?”

“We shall travel to Gilchester first, to tell everyone there our news, then on to London. I have business at the institution. I hope you will visit it. It would be a shame not to see what you have invested your money in.”

“We certainly shall.” With a slight frown, Darcy added, “I hope you will not rely on all your patrons showing an interest.”

“What are you insinuating?” Saye demanded as he crested the brow of the hill with Miss Goddard on his arm.

“He means there are not enough hours in the day for you to look at all the things you spend money on,” Fitzwilliam remarked, arriving behind his brother with Mrs Darcy. Anderson was pleased to observe no hint of hostility from Darcy at the sight. Marriage had evidently settled his qualms.

“That is only true when I spend my money on you,” Saye retorted.

The colonel replied with a snowball.

“For God’s sake, mind his hair, Fitzwilliam. We shall never hear the end of it if you dishevel him,” Darcy quipped.

“You are very quiet.”

Anderson looked at Georgette. She was regarding him with some concern.

“I was only taking the measure of my new family,” he assured her.

“And what is your opinion?”

She really was the most sublimely handsome woman Anderson had ever met.

When she looked at him in this way, with solicitude, with love in her gaze, he felt his good fortune in every dusty corner of his soul.

Yes, his new family was filled with intricate characters, all of whom he could admire in one way or another, and all of whom he looked forward to becoming better acquainted with.

But he would know none of them had it not been for Georgette.

Her faith in him was astounding. When all the rest of the world had been happy to leave him in the shadows, she had seen him, and she had loved him.

She had not been ashamed to bring him here, to guide her family and friends into knowing him, investing in him, liking him.

She had made him a part of her family, and he loved her more deeply for it than he had ever comprehended it was possible to love anyone.

“My opinion is that they are all exceedingly agreeable, but that you, my love, are the very best of them.”

She had no answer for that, which was the greatest response she could have given him, for he knew it meant she liked what he said too well to be facetious about it.

“Let us all have a race, then,” Mrs Darcy said.

“Sorry—what was that, Elizabeth?” Georgette asked.

“Saye has declared that Lilly can beat Elizabeth in a race,” Miss Bentley explained. “She suggested we girls all race each other.”

Georgette was game and jumped directly onto the nearest toboggan.

“Hardly a fair contest,” Saye remarked with a snort. “Georgette and Miss Bentley cannot hold a straight line for more than five yards.”

“That is easily resolved,” Anderson replied, squeezing onto the toboggan behind Georgette and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as he reached around her for the leading rope.

“Aye, we must be assured of an unswerving descent,” Fitzwilliam agreed, seating himself behind Miss Bentley.

Not to be outdone, Saye and Darcy hastily found space on their respective ladies’ toboggans.

“On three!” Saye called, and after the count, off they went, all laughing merrily, all perfectly well-matched as they set off on their journeys to the finish.