Page 39 of He Taught Me to Hope (Darcy and the Young Knight’s Quest #1)
Darcy brushed the unruly curls atop his young friend’s head. “Do not look so discouraged, Ben. Surely, you cannot expect to excel at the game when you have only been introduced over the past week.”
“I am terribly frustrated when, try as I might, you always gain the upper hand.”
“You would not want to win because I simply allowed you to, now would you? What would be the fun in that?”
“I believe it would be good fun regardless, as long as I should win,” Ben expressed truthfully.
“Then, I encourage you to practise. You will never be truly accomplished, unless you practise,” Darcy uttered the words reminiscent of his aunt, Lady Catherine, before he realised what he was saying.
“Practise every chance you find. A brave knight such as yourself is sure to master this game in due time.
Ben, who had been slumping in the chair opposite his friend, sat up straight upon taking in those words. “I will do as you say. I will practise each and every day, and very soon it will be me who yells ‘Checkmate’! Will that not be fun for a change?”
“I eagerly await the day, young sir,” Darcy assured him .
Ben looked at Darcy intently for a long moment. “Will we always be together?”
“I believe we shall,” Darcy said, “in one way or another. I promise I will do everything within my power to make it so.”
Darcy stood from his chair and stretched his long legs. Ben mirrored Darcy. “Now let us return to Miss Georgiana’s home. Your mother will have returned by now, and is probably wondering where you are. We must not give her any cause to worry about you.”
From time to time, Darcy was obliged to be seen amongst society.
It was expected, after all, of young men of his station.
Growing more confident with each passing day that it was merely a matter of time before he would persuade Elizabeth to put her own interests before all else and accept his hand, he generally was amenable to an occasional appearance at private dinner parties, the theatre, and a private ball or two.
Besides, it would give rise to the perception he was still on the market, and thus temper any speculations he enjoyed a secret engagement, or worse, a scandalous affair with the beautiful young widow who resided in his sister’s home.
A heightened measure of anticipation he normally did not suffer with the prospect of an evening amongst society, engrossed him that night.
It was not that he was to dine with the Matlocks, but rather, Elizabeth would be there.
For the first time in their acquaintance, he would be able to engage her amongst those he considered his equal in consequence.
Darcy arrived at Lord and Lady Matlocks’ home in time enough to espy his uncle escorting Elizabeth from the room, arm in arm.
Knowing his uncle as he did, he fretted that they had not returned after a quarter-hour had passed.
He set off to locate them and rescue Elizabeth from what he by now suspected to be a verbal skirmishing .
Darcy was too late in seeing the path he had chosen would lead him directly past Caroline.
What on earth am I to do now? He had no one to blame but himself.
He wanted to kick himself, for it was at his insistence some years ago that the Bingleys were even received by the Matlocks.
His cousin excluded, the Fitzwilliams were a proud lot, not known to associate easily with those who had ties to trade.
Ever since his ultimatum to his aunt and uncle to receive the Bingleys or risk alienating him, it seemed he could not go anywhere that Caroline did not also go.
It was as though his aunt was punishing him, for she seemed to delight in Caroline’s antics to ensnare him and his desperate attempts to avoid being snared by anyone, especially Caroline.
Caroline’s eyes were trained directly upon him from the moment he entered the room.
Timing his imminent approach, she placed herself directly in his path.
“Is it true what I hear, Mr. Darcy? Is Eliza Carlton living with your dearest sister? Moreover, is it true she has a son?” She was standing much too close to him, for his taste.
All attempts on Darcy’s part to put a respectable distance between the two of them were in vain.
“Mrs. Carlton is a guest in my sister’s home, and yes, she has a young son.”
“How very interesting!” Caroline raised her fan to her face. “Rumour has it she is something more than a friend of your dear sister,” she purred.
“Of what concern is any of this to you, Miss Bingley?” He spoke in a cool tone meant to discourage her from any attempt to disparage Elizabeth.
“Seeing how you practically threw me out of your home the evening she arrived, I would say this is a matter of great concern to me. You treated me abominably. Have I not always been welcome in your home, Mr. Darcy?”
“Given your propensity to come and go at your leisure, with nary an invitation, you seem to think so.”
“Unless I am mistaken, Eliza Carlton arrived at your doorstep without an invitation, as well,” Caroline opined. She had not forgiven him for his ill-treatment .
“It is quite different with Mrs. Carlton, as you very well know.”
“I certainly know how it seems,” Caroline spoke in a hushed tone, for his ears alone. “Come now, Mr. Darcy, you are fooling no one with this subterfuge. Why did you choose Eliza Carlton, of all people? Was I not here first? What has she that I have not?”
Darcy leaned down and spoke to her in a hushed tone, so close the warmth of his breath sent tremors along her spine. “My heart….” Having instigated the response that caused no one any harm but her, she stood foolishly by and watched as he walked away.
Being the determined old rogue he was, Lord Matlock was as eager for the combining of the estates of Rosings and Pemberley as was any of the Fitzwilliam family.
To his way of thinking, it would only enhance his own overly inflated opinion of himself as the powerful patriarch of the Fitzwilliam dynasty.
It did not sit well with him at all that his sister, Lady Catherine, seemed resigned to Darcy’s declaration that a marriage to his cousin Anne would never be.
Two things had bothered him most upon first hearing of the beautiful young newcomer.
Who was the young woman who had taken up residence in his nephew’s home?
His nephew could pretend all he wished that he had not taken on the role as the young woman’s protector.
In the end, he and he alone authorised the goings-on in his sister’s establishment.
Moreover, what of the young boy his nephew had been seen with on numerous occasions?
Might these two possibly be his mistress and his illegitimate child?
Those two mysteries were solved immediately upon Georgiana’s arrival.
The truth behind his niece’s guest was not nearly as nefarious as he had envisioned.
The young lady who accompanied his niece could not possibly have been the mother of his nephew’s supposed child.
She was the young widow his sister Catherine had spoken of in her missive.
Still, he was determined to carry his point.
On the pretence of escorting Elizabeth to another room where there were other guests to whom he wished to introduce her, he informed Georgiana he wanted to steal her lovely friend for a moment.
Alone in his study, he offered Elizabeth a glass of wine, which she politely declined. He poured himself a stiff drink and took a seat behind his desk. Elizabeth sat down in a large, hard leather chair.
“So you are Mrs. Elizabeth Carlton. My sister, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, spoke of you in one of her letters. She made your acquaintance during your recent stay in Kent, if I am not mistaken.”
“Indeed, you are correct.”
“Capital! When I first learnt that my young niece had welcomed a beautiful young widow and her son into her home, I feared you might be someone else entirely. I am glad my initial suspicions are unfounded,” Lord Matlock confessed.
He spoke of his concern that Darcy might have fathered an illegitimate child, but Elizabeth could not have suspected that.
“Lady Catherine mentioned in her letter that your son is the sole heir of her late friend, Mrs. Sara Carlton.”
Elizabeth offered no confirmation. The more he spoke, the more he reminded her of the grand lady. She suspected he needed no encouragement when it came to letting his sentiments be known.
He continued, “Lady Catherine also mentioned you had an arrangement with her vicar’s older brother to be united in marriage, one that ended abruptly. However, she did not inform me of the details regarding your broken engagement.”
“Why would anyone have informed you, my lord? What concern is any of that of yours?”
Not one to be put off so easily, the earl insisted, “I should say it is of great concern, especially if it has anything to do with my nephew and the fact that you are now living in one of his homes.”
“If Mr. Darcy does not object to my being a guest in his sister’s home, why should you?”
“If you were merely a guest of my niece’s, I would not be troubled, I assure you. You and I both know better than that, do we not?”
“I have no idea what you mean, I am sure. ”
Lord Matlock slammed his glass to the table, forcefully. “I will not play games with you, young lady. You are residing in my niece’s—no, my nephew’s home because it suits him to have you there!”
Her courage increased with his attempts to intimidate her.
Elizabeth declared, “Think what you like, Lord Matlock. I am a guest in your home because your wife invited me here tonight. I doubt she invited me here to be subjected to such an unwarranted attack.” Elizabeth spoke in haughty disdain, intended to match her host’s.