“Come, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam said. “You might be able to go scrambling about the Peaks, but Miss Bennet does not have that luxury.”
Darcy continued to regard Elizabeth as he answered, “I do not anticipate that Miss Bennet would find it too great a challenge.”
“Ha! You know my niece well, I see!” Mr Gardiner exclaimed.
“Are we to conclude that you do not like the seaside, Mr Darcy?” Mr Hartham interjected.
Darcy felt his smile fade. It fell away altogether when Saye answered in his stead. “Quite the contrary. Darcy has a great fondness for the water, which he will prove to you all by going for a swim. Who is game for a little sea-bathing, eh?”
Everybody who was not related to him hesitated, no doubt unsure of the etiquette of refusing a viscount.
“Do not be absurd,” Fitzwilliam said, laughing. “Nobody has come prepared for sea-bathing, least of all you. You cannot even swim!”
“Darcy can, and he can do it perfectly well in his shirt and trousers.”
Instantly suspicious of Saye’s purpose, Darcy glared at him until he receded.
“Oh, very well. Another time! Let us eat instead.”
The party moved to sit on the blankets and cushions that had been laid out. Elizabeth, either by design or chance, was immediately flanked on all sides by the other ladies—and the vexingly determined Mr Hartham. Darcy resignedly sat on the nearest corner of the blanket and accepted a glass of wine from a footman.
Saye delighted the ladies by showing off the tricks he had trained Florizel to do for scraps of food. “He does his best tricks for crab meat. Can you believe that we are having a picnic this close to the shore and yet we have no crab to eat? Darcy—I wager you could catch us one. Go on—wade in and have a fish about under some rocks, see what you find.”
Darcy was now certain he knew what his cousin was up to, but Saye was wrong: it would not help his cause to dampen his shirt, and he had no intention of allowing himself to be teased into it. “Florizel is your dog—you catch him a crab.”
Saye only smirked. “Spoil-sport.”
“I should like to try sea-bathing one day,” Mrs Annesley said.
“As would I,” Georgiana agreed. “The thought of being surrounded by so much water is perfectly thrilling. But then, everything in Brighton is thrilling.” She dipped her head as though she had abruptly remembered to be conscious of her audience, and added meekly, “At least, to me.”
“Oh, to me as well, I assure you!” Elizabeth said. “It is a wondrous place. I do hope your stay is not being too seriously blighted by the state of the house.”
“Oh no!” Georgiana said with feeling. “I love the house. We are all very comfortable there.”
Elizabeth beamed with pride until Fitzwilliam chuckled and said, “All? I should think it will be some time before poor Doyle is comfortable again.”
“Who is Doyle? And what has befallen them?” Elizabeth asked, looking between them all anxiously.
Darcy could have throttled Fitzwilliam for giving her cause to worry. He watched closely as Mrs Annesley gently explained the situation, assuring Elizabeth—and Georgiana, who continued to fret—that the apothecary had provided a poultice and thought the maid would be up and about in a day or two. The conversation moved on, and the group began to dissipate as people got up to explore the beach, but Darcy could see that Elizabeth was in no way consoled. He came to his feet and walked around the outside of the group, picking up a plate of fruit on the way and offering it to her when he reached her side of the picnic area.
She refused, looking more than a little bewildered by the offer, and he handed it back to a footman. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the blanket next to her. He was heartened that she not only agreed but slid over to make more room for him.
“I beg you would not distress yourself over Georgiana’s maid. It could have happened to anyone.”
“That is entirely the problem,” she replied ruefully. “Anything could happen to any one of you at any time, because the house is a disaster.”
“Perhaps, but it is a very fine disaster.”
She looked at him with muted hope. “Do you jest?”
“Not at all. The house is—orwill be—spectacular. I am delighted for you that such a magnificent property has come your way. I only hope you were not too pained by your aunt’s death. Forgive me—I ought to have said as much the other day when you told me of your inheritance. Instead of accusing you of?—”
“It is well,” she interrupted. “You have apologised for that. Let us mention it no more. As for my aunt, we were not so close that her death should affect me deeply. It was terribly sad, of course, but I had not seen her for many years before she died.” After a brief pause, she added, “But I thank you for asking.”
Darcy was distracted from the divine look of gratitude in her eyes when Fitzwilliam marched to stand directly in front of them.
“Come along, you two, get a move on.”
