Page 16 of Darcy’s Guarded Heart

Darcy

“W hat very unfortunate turn of events,” Caroline said later that day after the party had finished dinner. “We had hoped that Charles would spend less time with Miss Bennet, not more. And now she shall be here all evening—and who knows how long in the morning?”

“Indeed, it is not ideal,” Darcy conceded. “Alas, it cannot be helped. They are here now. We can only hope it will not lead.”

Bingley was captivated by Miss Bennet throughout dinner, Caroline remarked, and Darcy noted that this had not escaped his attention either. Dinner had been scrumptious as always, yet he found himself unable to eat as much as he might have otherwise because the company left much to be desired.

The more time he spent around the Bennets, the more it became apparent that Bingley took to them, especially to Jane.

But it was not just Jane Bennet with whom he had conversed at dinner.

There was also Thomas and Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth, who had vexed him during tea with her seemingly unending challenges, had proven herself to be far wittier and cleverer than he had credited her for.

To make matters worse, he found himself rather transfixed by her undeniably handsome face.

What troubled him even more was how quickly Georgiana was taking to the Bennets. She had been utterly delighted to have them back again so soon, and now, as he settled into the drawing room intending to read his book, he saw Georgiana once again huddled with Elizabeth near the pianoforte.

As he observed them, Miss Elizabeth raised her eyes, and for a moment, they were locked in a gaze that felt almost like a battle.

Beside him, Caroline chattered on, but he found it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. Unable to avoid distraction, she averted her eyes and followed his gaze with a small, almost imperceptible click of her tongue.

Then she cleared her throat. “Miss Eliza, are you going to delight us with some music this evening?” she asked.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Caroline, although Darcy suspected it was not a genuine smile. Her eyes, which he had noted were usually quite bright when she spoke sincerely, remained dull.

“I should imagine that my playing would not delight anyone in this room,” she said, “for my fingers do not move swiftly over the instrument—not as swiftly as I would like.”

“But we could play a duet! I play rather well,” Georgiana suggested humbly, her tone fitting her station.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy chimed in, “why not play for us alongside Georgiana?”

A part of him wanted her to play so that he would not be drawn into yet another verbal sparring match with her, but another part genuinely wanted to hear what she could play.

“Yes, Miss Bennet, please do play,” Bingley said from the table, looking up. “And Darcy, while the ladies play for us, why don’t you come and sit with us? We need a fourth.”

Darcy cleared his throat. Bingley was sitting at a table with Miss Bennet, and the young Mr Bennet, setting up for a card game. He truly did not wish to keep company with the younger Mr Bennet, but he also could not decline, as that would have been exceedingly rude.

He looked at Caroline. “Will you forgive me?”

“Just this once,” she said with a sweet smile, placing her hand over his for a brief moment. Darcy made his way to Bingley’s table and settled into a chair as the sounds of the pianoforte floated across the room.

“Are you quite musical, then?” Bingley asked his companions at the table as he spread the cards.

“I am afraid I am not. Like Elizabeth, my fingers refuse to bend properly to play. I play the flute a little,” the lady replied.

“The flute?” Bingley exclaimed. “What an underrated instrument! What beautiful melodies it can produce.”

“Indeed, it can,” Thomas Bennet replied, picking up his cards. “And what about you, Mr Darcy? Do you play?”

He glanced over his shoulder at his sister and Miss Elizabeth, who were playing a piece and giggling between them, as the composition was not written as a duet and it was clear Georgiana was more skilled than Elizabeth.

“I do,” he said. As he spoke, Miss Elizabeth’s eyes rose and focused on him. “I play the pianoforte, and I play the cello.”

“Perhaps you should play for us, then,” Miss Elizabeth suggested from the pianoforte, and he glanced back.

“I would trade places if you would prefer,” he offered.

“Is that a judgement upon our playing?” she asked with a laugh, and Georgiana joined in.

“Surely not. But perhaps my brother would rather I trade places with him so you two can play a duet,” she said.

Bingley chuckled, and Miss Bennet smiled, while Thomas Bennet hid his smile behind the hand of cards he had just raised. Darcy felt a flush rise to his cheeks and shook his head. “Georgiana, that’s not humorous.”

“I did not mean it to be. I am merely trying to be courteous,” she said.

Darcy shook his head again, focusing on the card game, although he was acutely aware of Elizabeth Bennet’s gaze fixed intently on him.

They played the first round rather quickly, and Thomas Bennet proved himself as adept at playing cards as he was at shooting, leaving Bingley thoroughly impressed. “Well, is there anything you cannot do, Thomas?” he asked with an appreciative smile.

“There are a great many things I cannot do,” the young man replied, and Darcy bit his lip to avoid saying something untoward, such as inheriting an estate or marrying a lady of value.

He knew this would be unkind, and he questioned himself for his aversion to this young man.

Was he truly so petty, so filled with envy that he could not help but be unkind to this unfortunate soul?

After all, it must be difficult being born out of wedlock and then losing one’s mother immediately thereafter.

He resolved to be more cordial. After all, Bingley was very fond of him, and he did not want to risk his own friendship by clinging to animosity towards Thomas Bennet.

“Indeed, I imagine that not every gentleman can excel at everything,” he said. “I myself am rather dreadful at making conversation with strangers,” he said, though he did not like putting himself down but Darcy truly found it difficult to converse with people.

Behind them, the music stopped and started once more a moment later, but this time the playing was smoother and more skilled, and he knew without looking that Miss Elizabeth had risen, leaving Georgiana to play on her own.

A few moments later, the young lady appeared at the table. “May I observe?” she asked.

Darcy wished she wouldn’t, for he already knew that if she sat down to watch, his nerves would be stretched, leading to mistakes.

Her presence made him anxious, and he did not understand why.

Still, he felt it the moment she moved a chair closer to their table.

The hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand up and tingle.

She positioned herself between him and her sister Jane, curiously peeking at their cards while placing one hand in front of her mouth to stifle a smile.

“Now, now, Elizabeth, do not give it all away,” Thomas Bennet said with a laugh.

“I give nothing away, Thomas. I am simply peeking and smiling,” she replied.

“I wish you would not. You see, Bingley, this is what I must endure all our lives. It has always been like this.”

“Like what?” Elizabeth asked with a bright smile.

“Elizabeth enjoys inserting herself into games and being a thorough distraction,” he retorted. “You must be careful, Mr Darcy; she will distract you, and you shall lose.”

But Darcy was already losing anyway, prompting him to chuckle. “I will have you know, I am rather skilled at this game. Usually.”

“I do not doubt it,” Miss Bennet said as the game progressed. As he lost round after round, Darcy realised that any skill he possessed in card games was utterly absent that evening.

The more this continued, and the livelier the conversation became between Bingley and the Bennets, the more inadequate he felt. This was not a sensation with which Darcy was familiar. Why could he not be light-hearted? Why could he not converse with them as easily as they did?

He coughed, and after the fourth round placed his cards down. “I am afraid I am rather fatigued. I would prefer to sit and read for a little while before retiring to bed.”

“But Darcy, we are just beginning!” Bingley protested. “Although I agree, I am rather tired of cards as well. But why do we not play billiards? That could be rather amusing. We can team up in pairs, Thomas and I shall play against you and Mr Hurst.”

Usually, when they played billiards, Darcy and Bingley teamed up against whoever was visiting, who often found themselves partnered with Mr Hurst. Indeed, it was a private joke that the two of them always made the winning team, as Mr Hurst was a dreadful player.

The awful feeling of being replaced grew ever stronger in Darcy’s mind, and although he had resolved to be kind to Thomas Bennet, his desire to be unkind only intensified.

For the truth was, he recognised that gut-wrenching sensation of being replaced in the esteem of someone he held in high regard.

It was a feeling he had experienced when he was a mere boy.

Back in those troubling days following the death of their steward, Mr Wickham, when his father had decided to take George Wickham in as his ward, Darcy had witnessed the gradual shift.

Slowly but surely, Wickham had become a more central figure in the Darcy family, and Darcy himself had felt left out.

He began to understand why he felt this way, though he did not like it, for if there was one thing Fitzwilliam Darcy disliked above all else, it was feeling helpless.

He rose then and shook his head. “No, I really am rather fatigued. If you do not mind, I shall take my book into the library and read there.”

“Very well,” Bingley said. “It is perhaps best if we do not linger much longer. I have a grand idea you must hear before you retire, Darcy.” Darcy braced himself but nodded for him to continue.

“Tomorrow, we shall all go riding. The gentlemen, as well as all the ladies.”

“Oh, what fun!” Georgiana exclaimed from the instrument while his sister grimaced, not fond of riding. “Thomas, perhaps you could show us the riding path you were telling us about at dinner—the one that goes by the lake and ends in that large clearing overlooking the lavender.”

“I would love to,” Thomas said. “It is truly quite splendid.”

“There! Then,” Bingley said, clapping his hands in joyful excitement. “It is settled. We shall all go riding together in the morning.”

Darcy gulped, for he had hoped that by morning the Bennets would wish to see their carriage pulled out of the mud and be on their way.

It appeared, however, that they were in no haste whatsoever.

And as he left, under the watchful gaze of Elizabeth, Darcy found himself wondering once again if these repeated incidents involving the Bennet carriage were, perhaps, by design after all.