Page 37 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)
D arcy had been in the drawing room more than long enough for now.
He had seen Miss Bennet corralled into a group of ladies, and seen her making an effort to join in the conversation.
But he had also seen her commiserating glances to Lady Mildred.
He frowned. Why would Lady Bedford not allow them to sit together?
Part of a house party was to make new friends and acquaintances, and surely Lady Mildred’s parents would want that for such a shy young lady?
But then he had seen Miss Bennet leave the room. He wondered if she was unwell; she certainly had seemed rather listless and it was unlike her.
“Come on, Darcy!” Cunningham nudged him. “We have been standing around here long enough. Let’s walk out on the terrace until the fishing party is ready.”
Darcy nodded in acquiescence. He couldn’t continue to stand here, trying not to look for Miss Bennet’s return.
“I think you’ve not really enjoyed the party, Darcy?” Cunningham’s voice was fortunately quite low, and Darcy grimaced. He did not want to cause Lord Bedford any discomfort.
“You know my nature, I think, Cunningham.”
As they crossed the hall, he saw their hostess standing near some curtains with one of the other guests.
He hesitated, what was her name? Lady somebody-or-other, he wasn’t really concerned.
But Lady Bedford was talking much too loudly for being in a public place.
He hoped they would get past her quickly, he did not wish to know what had displeased her.
“That Bennet girl! I am exceedingly vexed that Lady Palmer brought her here. She has taken all the attention from my girls — and tried to befriend Mildred, as well. It is perfectly obvious that she has a very clear strategy to attach herself to a fortune. Look at the way the gentlemen are taken in!”
Darcy lengthened his pace. He did not want to listen a moment more to what she was saying, but his heart had already gone cold.
“This house party was for my girls! To prepare them for the Season, not to allow that unknown little chit access to the first circles here! To use her arts and allurements as she does …”
Lady Bedford’s voice thankfully receded as Darcy hurried through the door to the terrace, and he shivered.
“Well!” Cunningham wasn’t going to be cowed by what they had heard. “I think I now feel rather sorry for Miss Bennet. I hadn’t realised that Lady Bedford’s ire ran so deep.”
“But she will have seen something that would have aroused her suspicions, will she not? After all, she has been in high society for many years, so she must know what she is looking at.” Darcy’s heart was still constricted, he found it difficult to breathe. “Perhaps she is correct.”
Was it true? Was Miss Bennet really like all the other fortune hunters who had tried to trap him over the years? It was possible he really had been taken in; he knew so little of how ladies thought.
On the terrace, he looked out over the landscape and took the deepest breaths he could without exposing his concern to Cunningham.
Surely what he had heard could not be true — she had said to him several times that she was not in need of a husband.
But Lady Palmer was not certain that Miss Bennet knew her own mind, and coming to this house party might mean she had been prevaricating.
He had always thought Miss Bennet was different, very different, from other young ladies.
But he was determined not to be trapped by a fortune hunter.
He had made that vow to himself a decade ago.
He would almost rather marry Cousin Anne.
He gave a short laugh, unamused. Lady Catherine was a worse fortune hunter than most mercenary mamas.
He had to excuse himself from the fishing party. Then he could retreat to his chamber for a few hours.
Downstairs again, his doubts and fears buried behind his usual impassivity, Darcy found his eyes back on Miss Bennet. She seemed more lively than she had this morning, and several gentlemen were clustered around the small group of ladies that she was conversing with.
The ladies stood and regrouped when the tea was served and Darcy found himself next to Miss Bennet. Had she contrived it to be so? He was angry at his suspicions.
“Mr. Darcy, I recalled last night that back in Hertfordshire you had mentioned your cousin telling you that they were sending more horses and troops out to the Peninsula. You were going to ask him how the horses were transported. Did you manage to find out, and if so, could you tell me, please?”
She seemed quite bright in her attentions to him, and Darcy frowned. Across the room, he saw Talbot scowl at her and was sure she had slid the other a glance. Was she trying to make the other man jealous?
Darcy would not be party to a game like that.
He did not smile. “I did. He said they are held below deck in narrow stalls. For the longer journeys they are usually supported by slings under their bodies. Casualties are common, but more often due to the poor ventilation in the hull.” He kept his voice curt; he would not seem to fall for her wiles — if wiles they were, though he could hardly bring himself to believe it. But he must be careful.
She noticed, of course; she was one of the most observant people he knew. He watched her smile become fixed and the brightness in her eyes die. But there was nothing he could say — or ask — not here, where they were being watched.
He nodded at her. “Miss Bennet.” Then he walked away, carrying his teacup back to the tray as his excuse.
He felt the burn of eyes on his back and turned carefully.
Talbot was still watching him, his eyes narrowed, and Darcy felt a twinge of discomfort.
Did she need protecting? But how could he do that and keep his distance at the same time?
She had returned to the group of young ladies. He wondered how uncomfortable she was; he somehow knew that she was as good as he at hiding her feelings from others when she needed to.
He smothered a groan, bowed to the room in general, as a megrim threatened, and hurried to his chambers. Why had he agreed to come here? If he had not seen her again here, he would have forgotten her. He would. Would he not?