“If you do not take a step back,” Saye said beneath his breath, “I shall refer to you as my hostess all night. What are you about, standing here? Impatient for Miss Larkin to arrive, are you?”
Darcy gritted his teeth. He had been loosely acquainted with Miss Larkin for some years, yet it had become apparent on their walk the other afternoon that, somewhere along the way, she had decided he was all but hers. Miss Hawkridge did nothing to help matters, treating him to her well-worn tease that he was the Great Standing Stone of Derbyshire and hinting that a lively lady would be good for him.
A lively lady would do very well for me…just not that one.
The only daughter of a baronet from Aldringham,Miss Larkin was a noted beauty with an excellent education, all the practised manners of the beau monde, and twenty thousand pounds settled on her, yet she had one very significant flaw: she was not Elizabeth. Thus everything about her simply felt wrong. She, however, had not the least indication of her disadvantage and continued as though he was hers for the asking—something Saye had made very clear he found hilarious and had not ceased nettling him about since.
“You know why I stand here,” he hissed in reply. “Certainly not for Miss Larkin. Not even because I wish to vex you.Thatis merely a happy coincidence. You did invite Miss Bennet, yes?”
“Hmm.” Saye tapped one hand against his cheek. “I believe I did. Oh dear, what if I forgot?”
“Saye…”
“I speak in jest.” He rolled his eyes. “Good lord, the countenance on you! Yes, she is invited and yes, she accepted the invitation, though obviously I mean to send the ladies home at a decent hour and leave us men to the serious business. No one beats Hartham, or so I am told. I mean to humble him tonight.”
“You will not see me stand in your way,” Darcy said with a huff. He had taken a decided dislike to the pinkish Mr Hartham. He would not mind relieving the man of a few pounds himself.
Where is she?He was eager—too eager, he knew—but as his vexation with Saye’s antics at the picnic had waned, other memories had come to the fore, and it seemed he and Elizabeth had made a little beginning. She had not seemed displeased with his company, and even before Saye shoved him into the sea, he had caught her looking at him on occasion. He knew notwhat it meant, but he had not seen her do so either in Hertfordshire or Kent, so it seemed hopeful.
“Fie on Hartham in any case,” Saye told him. “You need to flirt tonight.”
Darcy gave a scoffing laugh at that.
“I mean it! If you want her, leave her in no doubt of it,” Saye said sternly. “Pray do not make me dump a bucket over your head. There are far fewer natural causes of a soaking at a card party, but I shall contrive something if needed, I assure you.”
“Pray do not. I shall be attentive but in my own way.”
As all the perversion of mischance would have it, Elizabeth arrived—on Hartham’s arm—at the very same time as Miss Hawkridge and Miss Larkin.
“Mr Darcy,” the latter purred, handing him her wrap. “Do be a darling and help me with that.”
“Oh, um…” He turned, seeking someone to hand it to, but as a great number of people had arrived at once, their one paltry footman was already dashing about taking overcoats and pelisses into a nearby room. “Of course, madam.”
He begrudgingly followed the footman, tossing the wrap on a table just inside the cloakroom door and hastening back in search of Elizabeth. She and Hartham had moved into the drawing room, where Saye was introducing them to Miss Larkin. Darcy did not miss the latter’s disapproving smirk as her eye slid over Elizabeth’s gown. Darcy thought it wonderful—a simple pale blue affair that set off her figure to perfection—but there was no doubt Miss Larkin considered it inferior to her own.
“Oh Darcy, there you are!” She immediatelyattached herself to him. “Miss Bennet was just telling me that she would partner Mr Hartham at the whist table, with you and me.”
“I beg your pardon?” Darcy asked, feeling a flush of irritation that she should dare to presume he wished to partner her.
“That will not do, I fear,” Saye interjected smoothly, to Darcy’s surprise. “I have already claimed my cousin as my own this evening.”
“Surely you might be prevailed upon to permit him another choice?” Miss Larkin gave Darcy a little pout and, to his further irritation, he observed Elizabeth watching them. He took a step away from Miss Larkin and sent Saye a beseeching look.
“I simply must have him,” Saye replied. “I am a nervous card player, you see, and I shall require his assurance.”
Darcy snorted and Miss Larkin looked at him briefly, then turned her attention back to Saye. “I never imagined you the nervous sort, sir.”
“Indeed I am. And while I cannot permit you to partner Darcy, perhaps you might stay by his side? A sort of good luck charm.”
Just when I imagined Saye might do me a good turn!Foolish idea!Saye never did anyone a good turn save that it was to his own benefit.
Miss Larkin turned back to him, eyes alight. “An excellent suggestion, my lord.”
Darcy extended his arm, indicating that she should precede him to the table where Hartham was assisting Elizabeth in sitting. She went ahead, and Darcy took the opportunity to lean into Saye. “I have no wish to fend off brazen?—”
“Make her jealous,” Saye interrupted in a whisper. “Miss Bennet needs to see that she does not have you, in order to make herwantto have you. Bestir whatever possessiveness she might have and then cap it off with another wet shirt. Perhaps a tray of drinks?—”
“Do not spill things on me,” Darcy warned. “And Miss Bennet is not going to be made jealous by another woman’s attentions towards me. She is not that sort.”
