Page 25 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)
Chapter Ten
Kitty Bennet had never for one moment dreamed she might receive such focused attention from so many eligible gentlemen as she had during this London Season.
Seated in the drawing room of Darcy House, she tried not to appear too pleased as Harrison announced yet another visitor, though her heart gave a little flutter at the thought that it might be Lord Shandly returning as promised.
The thrice-weekly morning calls had become a delightful ritual that Kitty anticipated with genuine pleasure, so different from the desperate husband-hunting she had once imagined London society to entail.
“Mr. Alexander Townend,” Harrison intoned, and Kitty noted the way Georgiana’s fingers immediately stilled on her embroidery, her cousin’s composure momentarily disrupted before she recovered herself with admirable quickness.
The gentleman entered with his usual air of distraction, his cravat slightly askew despite what must have been his valet’s best efforts.
Yet there was a focused intentness in his gaze as it sought and found Georgiana among their group.
Kitty suppressed a smile at Mr. Townend’s transparent preference.
For all his social awkwardness, there was something rather endearing about his complete inability to disguise his admiration for Georgiana.
“Mrs. Darcy, Miss Bennet, Miss Darcy, Miss de Bourgh,” he greeted them, executing a bow that was technically correct if somewhat stiff. His gaze lingered on Georgiana an extra moment as he added, “I trust I find you all well this morning?”
Elizabeth responded with her customary warm courtesy, inviting him to be seated as the maid brought in fresh tea.
Kitty observed with interest as Mr. Townend positioned himself near the pianoforte, where Georgiana would naturally gravitate if asked to play.
He was learning, this earnest music lover.
Perhaps not as quickly as some, but learning nonetheless.
Before their conversation could progress beyond polite inquiries about health and the weather, Harrison appeared again at the door.
“Lord Joseph Sturt and the Marquess of Byerly,” he announced, and Kitty found her attention immediately drawn to Anne, whose pale cheeks suddenly showed the faintest hint of colour.
The two gentlemen entered together, a study in contrasts.
Lord Joseph bounded forward in a coat of startling azure that somehow managed to be both fashionable and theatrical, while the older marquess followed with measured dignity, his attire elegant but subdued in comparison.
Their expressions were equally contrasting: Lord Joseph beamed with unrestrained delight at finding himself once again in Anne’s company, while the marquess surveyed the room with the calculating gaze of a man assessing property rather than greeting acquaintances.
“Miss de Bourgh!” Lord Joseph exclaimed, moving directly to bow over Anne’s hand with florid enthusiasm. “The morning brightens with your presence! I have been composing verses since dawn, inspired by our musical evening.”
Anne’s smile, while restrained, was unmistakably genuine. “How industrious of you, Lord Joseph. I should be most interested to hear them... perhaps later?”
This last was added with a quick glance toward Mrs. Jenkinson, who hovered nearby with a perpetual expression of mild disapproval, and looked even more disapproving at Anne’s suggestion, though the companion did not dare voice an objection aloud, not with Elizabeth and Lady Matlock watching her.
The marquess, meanwhile, had positioned himself strategically between Anne and the main entrance, ensuring he would be first to greet any new arrivals and thus maintain his perceived advantage of rank.
His bow to Anne was precise, his smile thin but carefully constructed to convey both appreciation and condescension.
“Miss de Bourgh, you are looking remarkably well today,” he observed, his tone suggesting this was an unexpected development worthy of particular note. “London’s air appears to agree with you, despite its many impurities.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Anne replied with perfect politeness that nonetheless conveyed a certain coolness. “I find I grow stronger each day. Mrs. Darcy has been most attentive in ensuring our activities are both stimulating and appropriate.”
The marquess turned to Elizabeth with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Mrs. Darcy is to be commended for her conscientious care. It cannot be easy to manage the social calendars of three young ladies with such varied... constitutions.”
Kitty caught Elizabeth’s momentary flash of irritation before her sister’s features composed themselves into a mask of perfect civility.
“On the contrary, my lord. I find it a great pleasure to accompany such delightful companions. Their varied interests and temperaments make every engagement an opportunity for fresh observations.”
Before the marquess could respond, Harrison appeared once more.
“Viscount Shandly,” he announced, and Kitty was aware of smoothing her skirts before she could stop herself, a gesture that drew a knowing smile from Elizabeth.
The viscount swept into the room with characteristic drama, his morning coat a rich burgundy that would have appeared ridiculous on a less confident man but somehow suited his rather flamboyant personality.
His eyes sought Kitty immediately, and the warmth in his gaze sent a flutter through her chest that she tried valiantly to suppress.
“Mrs. Darcy! Miss Bennet!” he exclaimed, bowing with a flourish before acknowledging the others with slightly less enthusiasm.
“What a glorious morning! The spring sunshine reminded me so vividly of a particular quality of light I once observed in Athens, where the ancient Greeks built temples aligned precisely to capture the sunrise during equinoxes.”
“How fascinating,” Kitty responded, genuinely interested despite her suspicion that the viscount’s knowledge of ancient Greek astronomy might be somewhat exaggerated. “Did you visit these temples during your travels?”
“Indeed I did!” the viscount declared, settling himself beside her with an air of having found his rightful place.
“Spent three weeks studying the architectural alignments with a rather eccentric scholar who claimed direct descent from Archimedes himself. Slept under the stars to observe the celestial movements, though I confess the local insects were less than hospitable to such academic pursuits.”
Kitty laughed, earning a disapproving glance from the marquess. “It sounds terribly uncomfortable, my lord. Your dedication to knowledge is most admirable.”
“Discomfort is but a small price to pay for understanding,” the viscount proclaimed with apparent sincerity.
“Speaking of which, I have acquired a rather magnificent curricle since we last met. Suspended on the newest spring system from Vienna, it provides the smoothest ride imaginable. I was thinking, perhaps, if the weather holds...”
“A curricle?” Mr. Townend interjected, looking up with sudden interest. “I have one as well, though I doubt it boasts Viennese springs.”
Lord Joseph’s face lit up with boyish enthusiasm. “I too have recently taken possession of a curricle! There is nothing like a pleasant drive in the countryside to stimulate the poetic mind.”
The marquess’s expression darkened perceptibly. “Curricles,” he remarked with carefully constructed indifference, “are rather fashionable toys, I suppose. My own preference is for more substantial transportation, befitting established position rather than youthful display.”
Kitty did not miss the import of this statement: the marquess did not possess a curricle, that most fashionable of conveyances for gentlemen wishing to showcase both their horsemanship and their social credentials.
His attempt to dismiss them as frivolous could not quite mask what appeared to be genuine annoyance at this disadvantage.
She wondered if perhaps he could not afford one; she had heard his pockets were distinctly to let, despite his lofty rank.
“Perhaps,” the viscount suggested, either missing or deliberately ignoring the marquess’s disdain, “the ladies might enjoy an afternoon drive? The day promises to remain fair.”
Elizabeth glanced out the window, considering the proposal. “It does seem a perfect day for such an excursion,” she admitted. “What do you think, Lady Matlock, would such an outing be proper?”
“I believe so,” Lady Matlock said with a warm smile. “You will keep to travelled paths, of course, gentlemen?”
“Of course,” the viscount assured her quickly. “I would be most honoured if Miss Bennet would accompany me.” His eyes were bright as he turned to Kitty.
Kitty felt a rush of pleasure at being singled out first. “I should like that very much,” she replied, trying to temper her enthusiasm to a level appropriate for a young lady of proper breeding.
Mr. Townend, seemingly encouraged by this exchange, turned to Georgiana. “Would you perhaps consider a similar arrangement, Miss Darcy? I know of a particularly fine vista near the Serpentine where the acoustics create a most interesting effect when the water birds call to one another.”
Georgiana blushed slightly but looked pleased. “That sounds most interesting, Mr. Townend. I should be glad to observe such a natural musical phenomenon.”
Lord Joseph, not to be outdone, bounded to his feet and approached Anne with an expression of hopeful enthusiasm.
“Miss de Bourgh! Would you do me the very great honour of accompanying me as well? I have composed a series of sonnets inspired by the various trees of Hyde Park, and I can think of no more appreciative audience with whom to share them.”
Anne’s smile, though slight, contained genuine warmth. “I should be delighted, Lord Joseph.”