“Oh, yes. Saint’s Hill. Well, it’s nothing to Pemberley, I can tell you that much.”
“I am sure it is lovely.”
“It is well enough,” he said dismissively. “But Pemberley! Now that is something you should see! One of England’s great houses, to be sure.”
Elizabeth had to wonder at the oddness of him, being so disinclined to speak of his own estate in favour of Mr Darcy’s. It occurred to her that perhaps he had not yet had occasion to visithis future home. She asked him a question to that effect, and he seemed relieved to confirm the truth.
“Never so much as laid eyes on it,” he said cheerily.
“I do not think you told me what county it is in.”
“Hertfordshire,” he replied immediately.
“Hertfordshire!” She looked at him in amazement. “Is it nearby?”
“Oh! Did I say Hertfordshire?” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I meant Derbyshire. Quite near to Matlock, actually.”
“How nice,” Elizabeth said. Something in the conversation was puzzling to her. He seemed almost uninterested in what she should have imagined would be thrilling to him. And if his estate was so very near Matlock, and the seat of a childless aunt—had he truly never been there?
It was peculiar, but she did not think it her place to remark upon it. Instead, she asked, “Will you give up your commission?”
“Oh no,” he replied. “I am determined to be a major-general one day, or perhaps higher.”
It seemed an uncommon choice to her, but what did she truly know of these military men? She puzzled over it silently as he rattled on about his hopes and future, neglecting entirely any mention of Saint’s Hill amid his thoughts.
CHAPTER NINE
“I had imagined that you might at leastspeakto the lady, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam said to him. “Saye, should we lay a bet on how long it might take for our cousin to part his lips?”
“I might have spoken more, were you not insistent on occupying the space next to her at every turn,” Darcy retorted.
“I would not have you make it so easy for me to win this thing,” Fitzwilliam said. “Try to exert yourself just a little, hm?”
Darcy removed his pocket watch from his waistcoat and noted it was not yet noon. “How many more times might I expect to hear these taunts about my silence? This marks thrice in under twelve hours.”
“Leave off, Richard,” Saye spoke up from his position lolling on the chaise longue. “I am feeling vexed by you and can only imagine that Darcy finds you equally tiresome.”
“Speaking of tiresome people, I have it on good authority that all of the regiment will soon be removing to Brighton, but as of now, some men remain…including our friend.” Fitzwilliam gave Darcy a significant look.
“I heard some of the young ladies speaking of him at the party,” Darcy replied grimly. “Still just as popular as ever.”
“I do not doubt it. Nor do I doubt that he will be in attendance at the assembly tonight, giving the ladies one last time to admire him in his regimentals.” Fitzwilliam took a drink of coffee. “I do not intend to let it dissuade me, but I should understand—as would Miss Elizabeth Bennet—why you perhaps might not wish to be in his company.”
“Not on your life.” Darcy scowled at Fitzwilliam. “I shall be there, depend upon it.”
“No need to skewer me with your glare.” Fitzwilliam held up a hand. “Only a kindly offer. I know how you loathe the man.”
“And you do not?”
“’Course I do, but I tolerate him better.”
“I can tolerate him well enough,” Darcy replied shortly. “I should nearly guarantee that he will remove himself once he sees the pair of us enter.”
It was to Darcy’s good fortune that he laid no bet on that prediction. Evidently George Wickham considered the inducement of so many pretty young ladies—who fawned over him as if he were leaving for the continent, not the pleasures of training by the seaside—far more powerful than the appearance of two men who wished to flog him.
Wickham, naturally, would not dare approach either Darcy or his cousin. Instead, he made a great show of being unperturbed by them. He was careful not to dance when the colonel did—that might have brought with it some unwelcome and unavoidable intercourse between them—but rather spent his time in a corner making love to whosoever found her way into his web.
Elizabeth, alas, did not appear to be immune to the blackguard’s charms. She did not approach him but neither did she avoid him. She stood back, watching him as he talked and laughed on one edge of the ballroom.
