“The house is not haunted,” Darcy said flatly.
It would have been a much more effective pronouncement if, at that precise moment, there had not come a blood-curdling shriek, an explosion of plaster from above their heads, and the protrusion of a ghostly shrouded figure through the ceiling.
Miss Larkin screamed; Georgiana gasped. Miss Hawkridge looked positively thrilled. The cocoon-like object began to wriggle and writhe, then a muffled voice shouted, “Damn and blast it! Do not just stand there gaping, Denvers! Pull me out!”
Darcy ceased glowering and began to grin. His grin broadened into a smile, and he started chuckling. His chuckle soon progressed into deep-throated laughter. “That is not a ghost. That is Saye.”
It appeared his cousin had discovered a rotten floorboard in his bedchamber and had been saved fromfalling all the way through into the drawing room only by dint of the rug that had wedged him into the hole. This wonderful piece of just deserts cheered Darcy as very little else could have. By the time Saye was rescued, the rain had stopped, and as they set out on their walk, Darcy was still laughing heartily over it.
15
Elizabeth did her best to concentrate on what Mr Tucker was saying, nodding along to his every suggestion with what she hoped was an interested expression. No matter how she tried, however, her mind strayed incessantly back to the mysterious beauty on Mr Darcy’s arm.
It ought not to trouble her so, except that, as well as his recent admission of jealousy, he had shownsuchpronounced condescension towards her aunt and uncle at the picnic—almost as though he was deliberately trying to please her. It was enough to have made her begin to wonder whether, after all that had been said between them, he might still care for her, and what might it mean to her if he did.
It was something of a shock, therefore, to be reminded that she was not the only woman of his acquaintance. Of course. He must know dozens, perhaps hundreds of ladies in his own sphere. She could not be the only one ever to take his fancy—and she was quite sure she had never made him laugh asthat other lady had. If only the revelation did not give her such an unpleasant sense of…of uneasiness…of discomfort…of what her heart whispered suddenly must be jealousy.
Obviously it is not jealousy, she told herself immediately. What sort of nincompoop would be made jealous by seeing a man whom she had already rejected with another lady?
One who had learnt to regret her rejection perhaps?
She frowned, and Mr Tucker, who had been rattling on about floorboards, was immediately concerned. “Naturally, if you think there is another way for the floors to be repaired, I would gladly?—”
“Oh! No, no, of course not, you are the expert,” she assured him hastily. “I was only thinking how disagreeable it is to have discovered more rotten floorboards when we thought to have eliminated them all.”
Mr Tucker cleared his throat and said carefully, “Indeed, though, as I have been saying, this is not rot but woodworm.”
Elizabeth grimaced, chagrined that her inattentiveness had been noticed. “Yes, of course. My apologies.”
“Think nothing of it, ma’am. In any case, we are most fortunate that his lordship found this before the worm spread. So while we do need to cut out this spot, once we do, I have every faith that the floor will be as good as new.”
Elizabeth thanked him and did her best to concentrate as he took her from that room to the next to speak to her about the original matter for which he had called the meeting—a cracked chimney breast that might have to be removed rather than repaired. Despite his assurances that all was in hand, it seemed an endless litany of problems to her, and she was pleased when themeeting was eventually concluded. She left him upstairs but had not yet departed the house when Lord Saye returned to it. Alone.
As was becoming her habit, Elizabeth’s thoughts went immediately to Mr Darcy. Where had he gone? Off somewhere on his own with the two unknown ladies—or worse,oneof the two?
“Ah, good, you are still here, Miss Bennet,” said Lord Saye as he strode into the vestibule. “I realised I have some serious business with you.”
“With me?” Elizabeth replied, a little alarmed. “How did you know I was here?”
“Tucker informed me you were coming. That, and I saw you lingering outside in the rain earlier, waiting for us to leave.”
She felt her colour rise but did not acknowledge his observation. “How can I help you?”
“I mean to give a card party on Friday, and I must have your assistance in it.”
“Of course. Something with the house? Shall we summon Mr Tucker?”
Lord Saye waved his hand impatiently. “Nothing so wholesome as that. No, what I have in mind is far more…mischievous.”
“I am afraid, sir, I do not think it would be wise for me to make mischief with my own tenants.” She smiled apologetically at him.
“I daresay for fifty pounds, you will make mischief very well, hm?” He raised one brow. “Now, here is what you must do, and I shall not hear a refusal.”
Darcy stood beside Saye as the guests began to arrive for the card party. His cousin apparently meant business, for his invitation had flushed every well-heeled inhabitant of Brighton out of hiding to attend, whether driven by curiosity or Saye’s fame as a partygoer and gambler. The ramshackle state of the house only seemed to add to the intrigue, though how long that particular glamour would last remained to be seen.
Georgiana had more than once peeked over the bannisters to catch a glimpse of the gathering notables. Each time, he or Fitzwilliam had shooed her back to her room, where she was under strict instructions to remain all evening with Mrs Annesley, but he did not blame her for peeking, for it was quite a sight.
It had been the fairest day all week, and the sun, now beginning a slow descent, yet streamed into the vestibule. It gilded everything in its path, rendering the ladies who entered uncommonly lovely…and yet not one of them could compare to Elizabeth, who it seemed meant to be the last to arrive.
