“Well done, Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner declared, clapping her hands in her enthusiasm. Five pins were down with four remaining. Unfortunately for Georgiana, on her second roll, she only added one more pin to her count. Mary knocked down seven between her two rolls. When Darcy stepped up for his turn, the entire party seemed intent on distracting him.
“Are you sure you want to stand that way?” asked his father, and Mr. Barlow agreed, “He does look rather unsteady. He’s also too far to the left.”
“No, he is too far to the right for sure,” Mr. Gardiner disagreed.
Darcy ignored them all and moved to roll the ball. Mr. Darcy coughed loudly as he did so. The ball didn’t even make it to the end of the carpet, instead rolling off midway onto the floor and then hitting the wall. The second ball was better—no distractions presented themselves—and six pins fell.
Everyone laughed and Georgiana declared, “At least I have company in last place.”
Although Darcy did not look put out and laughed with the rest, Elizabeth spoke up.
“He should be permitted another turn.”
“If he cannot concentrate amid some distraction, he does not deserve the win,” Mr. Darcy said. He was smiling at his son, who looked back at him, shaking his head and seemingly trying to contain a laugh.
“But sir, is it fair for him to have to contend with distractions other players are not subject to?” Elizabeth insisted.
“A fair point,” Mr. Darcy conceded. “Shall you be content if I time my next commotion during your turn?”
“I suppose,” she said, quite seriously, even though the others, including Darcy, seemed to find only humour in the situation. “It is not exactly the same as I will know it is coming, but it seems the best we can do.”
“Lizzy is always very concerned with fair play,” her uncle offered.
“Indeed, the first time she beat me at chess, she refused to check me,” Mr. Barlow added. “I had nodded off several times during the match, and she concluded our facilities were not equally prepared, so we had to wait until the following night for her to claim her victory.”
“Well then, on with it, Lizzy,” Mr. Gardiner urged. “Darcy and Miss Darcy have six and Mary seven.”
The pins were reset. It seemed that in an effort to ensure Elizabeth’s distraction be equal to Darcy’s, every member ofthe party excepting that gentleman had a sudden convulsion of some sort—there were coughs, sneezes and stomps. Still, Elizabeth was able to knock down four pins with her first bowl and three with her second, meaning she and Mary would bowl the final round against one another.
The sisters waited while Miss Baxter reset the pins. Mary knocked down eight. Mrs. Gardiner congratulated her, and Georgiana cheered her efforts loudly. The others clapped and predicted her victory. Mary thanked them but appeared mostly unconcerned by any of it. Elizabeth knew better. She could tell by the way her sister shyly tilted her head and pressed her lips together that she was pleased to be the subject of praise and attention.
Elizabeth took her turn and knocked seven down with her first try. Mary watched with affected nonchalance. Standing beside Georgiana, they watched Elizabeth move back to the starting position to bowl her second ball. When stepping forwards to release her ball, Elizabeth tripped slightly, which threw off her roll and caused her to miss the pins entirely.
“Mary wins!” Georgiana declared, offering her friend an exuberant embrace.
“Well done, Miss Mary,” Mr. Darcy said.
The Gardiners and Mr. Barlow offered their enthusiastic congratulations.
As Mary accepted the enthusiastic support, Darcy moved behind Elizabeth. Bending slightly and speaking in a low voice, he asked, “What was it that caused you to lose your footing,Miss Elizabeth? You seemed all but assured of the victory which would have sealed you as the winner for the day as well.”
Elizabeth turned from watching her sister’s blossoming smile at the little celebration of her triumph to face Darcy.
“It is unfortunate, but could not be helped.”
A quirk of one perfect brow alerted Elizabeth to the possibility of his being onto her. This was confirmed when he responded, “Could it not?”
“No indeed.”
He regarded her for a moment before bestowing on her the rarest of gifts, that small, crooked, full smile. If her sister’s moment of enjoying some praise was not adequate recompense for her pretence, that smile would have been wholly sufficient.
“You are a good sister, Miss Elizabeth,” he said quietly before going to join the others.
As a result of Elizabeth’s loss at Skittles, intentional or not, there remained a tie between herself and Darcy for the top prize. He tried to insist it should go to her as the birthday girl.
“I cannot accept that, sir, as I had no say in the date of my birth and it is no accomplishment of mine to have been born at all.”
“I see,” he answered. “Your overdeveloped sense of fairness will not allow you to assent to be awarded the prize on the very reasonable basis of you being our guest of honour on your birthday.”
