Page 11 of Cads & Capers
CHAPTER TEN
“And how has your evening been so far? Enjoyable, I trust?”
The colonel smiled down at her as the first strains of the dance began. Elizabeth could have sworn he took extra care to make his eyes twinkle. He behaved so boldly, but she supposed it must be because she was the only person truly known to him, save for the Bingleys. She knew there was no real intent behind it but was excessively grateful that her mother, whose mind was almost frighteningly fixed on Jane’s glory, had not seemed to notice the colonel’s attentions.
“Very much so,” she replied as she circled around him. “And you?”
“Oh, I am enjoying myself exceedingly. If I lived hereabouts, I daresay I should never go to town for all the diversion to be had right in my own neighbourhood!”
It was gratifying that he should think so. They separated for a short time as the pattern demanded. When they came together again, she said, “How charming it is that you and your brother, who are no doubt accustomed to the highest level of society, should be so easily entertained here in our humble town.”
She found it amusing that the two Fitzwilliam brothers, sons of the Earl of Matlock, should be so kindly to those in Meryton while Miss Bingley acted as if she was stepping in manure every time she was forced to speak to anyone beyond her own circle.
“Where is my brother?” The colonel glanced about, his eyes resting on Lord Saye happily ensconced in a group that contained both Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas. He chuckled softly.
“He has been so sociable to all of them,” Elizabeth said. “They are much obliged.”
“Do not think it is any great condescension on his part. He loves mothers.”
They were again obliged to pause in conversation due to the demands of the dance. When they were again united, Elizabeth asked, “What is it about mothers that draws your brother so?”
“Saye always says that if you want the choicest cuts of meat, you ought to get friendly with the butcher.”
“I am not sure I understand that,” Elizabeth said with a little laugh. “Perhaps I would do best not to ask.”
“Matrons can provide two things my brother loves—gossip and introductions to pretty young ladies. No doubt his pursuit of both is why he sits there.”
“He will need to take care with my mother, then. I am surprised she has not yet put my youngest sister, Lydia, in front of him.” Elizabeth sighed, glancing to where Lydia was teasing a group of young men, including some of the regiment. “Then again, he does not have a red coat, so she would likely not be interested. You, on the other hand…”
The colonel arranged his face into an almost comically suggestive countenance, his lips in a pouty smile and his eyes half-hooded. His voice was low and throaty as he said, “Your sister is a pretty girl, but my idea of beauty is a bit more womanly.”
Elizabeth felt herself colour and willed it back, praying for herself to remain unaffected. Perversely, it had the opposite effect; rather than be subdued, her blush spread across her countenance like a roaring fire.
Her embarrassment was not lessened when he continued, “As is Darcy’s. I once heard him say he could not comprehend these men who marry mere girls. No one ought to marry before the age of twenty, in my opinion. You are twenty, I believe?”
Elizabeth gave a discomfited nod, unsure as to the colonel’s meaning. “I shall be one-and-twenty in a few weeks.”
“An excellent age to marry,” he said with a wink.
She gave him a thin smile in reply. “I have always believed marriage has more to do with finding the right partner than arriving at some particular age.”
Thankfully, the dance moved them at that point, and the subject of marriage was left. When they came around again, Elizabeth very much wished to direct the conversation back to more neutral ground.
“Your observations on my sister’s age are not amiss. My father thinks it sound to allow her to follow the regiment to Brighton, but I am not sure she ought to.”
“Which of your sisters is she?” the colonel asked happily, recovering to his more genial aspect.
Elizabeth gestured clandestinely to where Lydia danced with Captain Carter. Unfortunately, just then her sister gave one of her open-mouthed, unrestrained laughs as she allowed him to pull her into his chest in a decidedly improper embrace. Elizabeth grimaced, wishing she had not directed the colonel’s attention in that direction just then. “She is but fifteen.”
“That is full young to be in such a place. No doubt your mother will go with her?”
“Lydia wants to go as the particular guest of Colonel Forster’s wife.” With a little frown, she added, “A lady who is only seventeen herself.”
“Ah. Well, one can only hope for the best in such cases.”
The colonel did not seem unduly concerned. Then again, why should he? Lydia was no one to him. Though, having had his own experience with a young lady of fifteen left unattended at the seaside, she would have thought he might have more to say about it.
“I believe I heard Lord Saye mention that you had a younger sister?”
The colonel nodded. “She is married now and has lately had a daughter. It does not seem so long ago that she was causing us all similar worries over where she went and whom she was with.”
“Did she give you much cause for alarm?”
“No, not really. Aurelia is the spirited sort, it is true, but she is the daughter of an earl and the sister of a military man. Then there is Saye, who likes to boast that, by virtue of his less seemly connexions, he could send a note at breakfast and have anyone at all murdered before it was time to dress for dinner.”
Elizabeth laughed with shock. “Surely he speaks in jest?”
“One never knows with Saye. But taken altogether, it was protection enough for Aurelia to be safely settled without incident.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, her mind busily contrasting that with her own situation. Lydia had no brother—one who could order a murder or otherwise—and her father was not only not an aristocrat, he could scarcely be prevailed upon to look up from his book.
“I think I should speak to my father again and urge him to—” she began but the colonel interrupted her.
“I wonder, Miss Elizabeth, if you have any favourite walks hereabouts?” He leant in, his eyes again seeming determinedly piercing and twinkly. “I have missed our conversations in Kent.”
If you miss our conversation so much, why not allow me to finish my sentence? She could say no such thing, naturally.
“I have many favourite walks,” she began but then stopped. Somehow the idea of the colonel and his discomfiting stares and comments intruding upon her time was not enticing. They had been good friends in Kent, but now, when any chance remark might be met by some advance, he was less agreeable to her. Perhaps I am too peevish? She decided she did not care if she was.
“Regrettably, my mother has forbidden me to walk these days.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “She thinks every waking moment ought to be dedicated to Jane’s wedding.”
His attention was partly elsewhere, she observed; turning, she saw that Mr Darcy had drawn near, perhaps even close enough to overhear their conversation, and something in the tilt of the colonel’s head suggested he was aware of his cousin’s movements.
He was ostensibly listening to her reply, but evidently he had not listened closely enough for, returning to her with one of his meaningful stares, he said, a trifle loudly, “Splendid! I always enjoy a morning walk myself, so perhaps I might meet you one day.”
“I am doing as much as I can,” Fitzwilliam told his brother a short time after his dance with Elizabeth. “You should have heard me—I was all but shouting at her about taking walks in the morning, trying to give him a hint.”
“Did he hear? These blasted musicians are nearly making me deaf.” Saye grimaced. “I am unaccustomed to small ballrooms.”
“The music does seem louder, does it not?” Fitzwilliam thought about it. “I believe he heard me but I cannot be sure.”
“I suppose we shall find out tomorrow morning, if he appears from an early morning ride or walk of his own. You will not find me traipsing about the countryside at dawn for a woman, I shall tell you that much.”
“Not even if Miss Goddard were in the habit of a morning ramble?”
“I do not need to rely on chance in that quarter.” He smiled smugly. “Bingley had not yet given her an invitation to his ball, so I told him I would very obligingly take it to the Goddards myself.”
“How good of you,” Fitzwilliam said with a laugh. “In the meantime, do you not think it would be a handsome gesture to dance with your hostess?”
Miss Bingley had followed Saye hopefully all night. She had looked meanly put upon when he danced with Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, but had seemed on the brink of apoplexy when he surrounded himself with matrons for the remainder of the evening.
“To dance with Miss Bingley would give her expectations,” Saye replied. “She is just that sort. I could not so cruelly disappoint her. You and Darcy both danced with her. I daresay that is enough.”
From the window, they saw Saye’s carriage being brought up. “Go and get Darcy, will you? I expect he will have had enough of this too.”
Fitzwilliam glanced to where Darcy stood, eyes still fixed on Miss Elizabeth, who was, even then, dancing with one of her local friends. “Is he ready to depart, do you think?”
“If he has not gathered up bollocks enough to ask her yet, then I doubt it will happen in the last gasps of the evening,” Saye replied. “Let us get him home to bed so he can be awake early for his walk.”
“She argued with him,” Mary reported later that evening. As was her custom, she had not danced at the assembly. Her evening was spent in a chair at the edge of dance floor, quiet and overlooked and happily quite near to where Lizzy and Mr Darcy had feuded. “He thinks she’s in love with Mr Wickham.”
“See? I did too,” Lydia crowed from where she lolled on her bed in her chemise.
“She is definitely not in love with Mr Wickham,” Kitty asserted while handing her brush to Mary to attend to her. The three girls were busily helping one another undress as Sarah, their housemaid and sometimes lady’s maid, was busy with Jane and Lizzy. “She refused to stand up with him.”
“She did?” Lydia asked with surprise.
“Well, in fact what she did was stop him before he could ask her. Vastly clever of her! Because otherwise she would have had to sit out. So she held up one hand and said, ‘Mr Wickham, I pray you would not importune me by asking me to dance,’ and then he said something I could not hear and she said, ‘if you do not want certain personal matters bandied about in this room, I beg you to leave me at once.’ What personal matters do you think she meant?”
“Nothing, I am sure,” Lydia replied dismissively. “What could she possibly have on Mr Wickham? Any way, it does not signify, for she did not dance with Mr Darcy either, and we shall need at least that much for them to kiss.”
“They walked in Kent,” Mary reported. “In the mornings sometimes. Lizzy thought it was all the perverseness of mischance, but I wonder?”
“You think he tried to meet her intentionally?” Kitty asked.
“I understand that Rosings Park is quite large—larger even than Netherfield. It seems a small chance they would continually encounter one another by accident.”
“Then perhaps we ought to try and make them meet each other on walks,” Lydia said slowly. “Mary, you should go to her now and see if you can persuade her to go on an early morning walk with you.”
“Having me there defeats the object.”
“Well, I know that, of course!” Lydia huffed loudly. Lord, but her sister needed everything explained to her. “When morning comes, make some excuse—too tired, could not sleep, throat hurts, anything! Then she is off alone and hopefully will meet Mr Darcy!”
“Of course.” Mary nodded. “While I cannot like lying to her, sometimes it can be needful.” She slid off the bed and went to the door. “I shall go and speak to her about it now.”