Miss Bertram thought and then spoke. “First, I am not one-and-twenty. Second, I adore playing the glass armonica. Third, my favourite seaside resort is Ramsgate.”
“Ramsgate! I would venture that you have never been as far as Eastbourne!” said Captain Lytton, who, after the opinions of several others, was declared to be correct.
Mary Crawford was chosen next. “First, I had six dogs growing up. Second, I simply adore plum cake. Third, I am terrified of heights.”
“Six dogs! I have seen you wrinkle your nose at Lady Millicent’s pug,” laughed Mr Mercer.
When Elizabeth’s turn came, she announced, “First, I am very fond of walking. Second, I am a great composer of sonnets. Third, I once ate an entire pineapple in one sitting.”
“I believe that you are no great admirer of sonnets,” Darcy declared, eyes twinkling.
“I would wager that you have never composed so much as a limerick,” Miss Blackwood replied to her rudely.
“I would wager that until her recent good fortune, Miss Elizabeth never had enough funds to purchase an entire pineapple.” Miss Winslow exchanged a sly look with Miss Blackwood, who echoed her agreement.
“I will admit, the pineapple was purchased after my winnings were obtained, but I enjoyed every bite,” Elizabeth said playfully. “Mr Darcy, will you oblige us by going next?”
“Certainly, Miss Elizabeth. Let me see. First, I took a first in history at Cambridge. Second, I drink two cups of coffee every morning. Third, I read gothic novels.”
“The hell you do. I wager you have never read so much as the first page of a novel!” objected Mr Brentwood. A small squabble broke out between the others as they all disagreed on whether Darcy was likely to have read novels.
“I thought you said two days ago that it was Greek that you took a first in at Cambridge.” Elizabeth raised a brow archly. “You have a younger sister, and you shelter her. I wager you read everything that she reads, and that must include a great many novels.”
“You are precisely right, Miss Elizabeth!” Darcy smiled at her handsomely. “Now, you have already taken your turn, so I shall select Bingley to go next.”
“Well I am not a very good liar…” Bingley mused. “Hmmm… Let me see… First, I hail from Scarborough. Second, I have two sisters. Three, I am related to the prime minister!” The expression on his face changed so much at the last that Elizabeth could attest that Mr Bingley was indeed a terrible liar. They all laughed over Bingley’s incredible fake connections, as the game passed to Jane.
“I do not believe I am a better liar than Mr Bingley but I shall try.” Jane’s cheeks pinked as she blushed prettily. “First, I am the eldest of my mother’s children. Second, I am very adept at figures and sums. Third, I am very fond of spiders.”
The party broke out into debate, for many disbelieved that Jane was a competent mathematician, but also doubted that she could actuallylikespiders. Elizabeth and Mary settled the discussion with the admission that not only was Jane the most adept either of them had ever met with numbers, but that she was indeed terrified of spiders.
“What is so amusing, is that one can tell whether it is a false widow spider or a giant house spider by how she screams when she encounters it,” Mary joked as the company laughed at Elizabeth’s mimicry of Jane’s two distinct spider screams.
“Lizzy!” Jane protested good-naturedly as the company laughed at her kindly.
A short while later,the party had moved onto a game calledI Love my Love With an A. Lord Chesley began. “I love my love with an A because she is admirable. I hate my love with an A because she is acerbic. I took her to Acton, to the sign of the acorn. I treated her with apples, and her name is Agnes.”
Mr Talbot went next. “I love my love with a B because she is beautiful. I hate my love with a B because she is blunt. I took her to Bakewell, to the sign of the badger. I treated her with bread, and her name is Bertram.”
The ladies squealed as Mr Pemberton jumped up next andshouted, “I love my love with a C because she is candescent. I hate my love with a C because she is cherubic. I took her to Canterbury, to the sign of the cannon. I treated her with cake, and her name is Charlotte.”
Another round of squeals went round the room as Miss Crawford, Miss Blackwood, Mr Fletcher, and Colonel Gordon took their turns.
Elizabeth noted that the butler entered the room and whispered into Mrs Darlington’s ear. She rose and left them, motioning for Darcy to join her. Elizabeth hoped that it was not more trouble with the tenants.
Perhaps five minutes later, Elizabeth looked up and saw Darcy near the door motioning for her and Georgiana to join him. When they joined him in the hall, he said, “My aunt has an unexpected arrival, and she hopes the two of you might help set her at ease. Will you join us in Aunt Theodosia’s study?”
They followed him, and when they reached the study, Mrs Darlington was there with a strange woman and a young girl who was ill kempt and miserable looking. Her frock fitted her poorly and had seen better days, and she had no stockings on at all. Her hair was bedraggled, and her face looked as if it had been streaked over and over with tears.
“Miss Elizabeth! Thank heavens you are here.Youhave three younger sisters.You, I am certain, will know what to do with a ten year old girl. I am quite beside myself. Oh, where is Major Bartholomew?” Mrs Darlington fretted.
A moment later, the major entered, having been fetched by the butler. When the door was closed, Mrs Darlington said, “Major, I am so glad you are all here to advise me. Just over ten years ago, my husband’s nephew died, leaving his wife a young widow, and his daughter Edith was born to him posthumously. I read in the papers two years ago that his wife married again, but though I issued many invitations over the years for them or even for Edith alone to visit, they never came. I have just learned that recently, Edith’s mother died, leaving the man guardian to her child. He has apparently left theneighbourhood and abandoned her there in Chawton, with instructions for her to be sent to the workhouse!”
“The parish couldn’t very well see putting the girl in there, not knowing she had family,” the strange woman interrupted. “Her mother’s maid recalled an aunt that visited when Mr Darlington died, and who still wrote each year. I had to take a journey to Bath to visit my sister. I offered to allow the girl to make the journey with me.”
“I beg everyone’s pardon, this is Mrs Quinn, who was kind enough to convey Edith here in her carriage,” said Mrs Darlington apologetically.
“I do hope that you are going to keep her.” Mrs Quinn looked stern. “I have no desire to take her with me to Bath and all the way back to Chawton.”
