It would be a huge relief not to be devoting a large chunk of his day to ordering the apprentices to move furniture, set up curtains, or polishing silver and crystal chandeliers. The apprentices hated the work, which they considered beneath them. One of the apprentices had even sent an express to his father to complain. Fortunately, Lord Creswell favored the discipline of exercise for boys. He had sent an express letter back, hoping that they would soon be organizing a cricket team which would do the boys some good.
It was not a bad idea. Darcy paused in his training to look out of the window at the Netherfield gardens. He had found a good spot yesterday when he was working on the Wards. Perhaps when the grounds were fully Warded, a cricket team might be a good idea. There was plenty of space for it. They would have to clear the weeds, of course, but that would have to be done anyway. The boys might even be willing to do it if they knew it was for a pitch.
Darcy had a vision of a warm June day with white tents and an audience applauding as the boys played. He and Elizabeth would stroll arm in arm, stopping to chat every now and then, and check the score. They would eat strawberries and drink tea. Elizabeth would twirl her parasol and cheer the apprentices. He might even be able to steal a kiss under the cover of some trees if no one was looking.
The image was so incongruous, he almost dismissed it, but there was nothing to stop him from doing that, not really. It seemed unthinkable now, with all the work that needed to be completed, but Darcy decided he might suggest cricket to the Council once everything settled.
Bingley had told him once he was the captain of his cricket team at school. If he recovered sufficiently, he could be in charge.
Darcy shook his head. These were dreams of living a normal life. There were cricket teams in some of the Academies, but they did not compete. How would they even bring another team here when they had to keep their presence secret? It was better not to have such dreams. That way he would not be disappointed.
***
DARCY FINISHED HIStraining and went to his room to change before the Council meeting. It was his third one since he had become a member, and he still was not sure if it was the right decision.
It was infinitely frustrating to discover how Elizabeth was referred to. Despite the fact that she was his wife, more than one member persisted in calling her ‘the Bennet girl’, even in his presence, using a tone which implied she was to blame for everything that had befallen them. It was a struggle not to react to the insult, but his uncle had warned him that if he hoped to change anything, he had to learn diplomacy.
It was a trait that did not come easily to him. He abhorred pretense of any kind, but for Elizabeth’s sake, if nothing else, he had to find a way to win them over. If it meant watching his tongue, then so be it. He could not wear his heart on his sleeve. Much as he had to learn not to speak what was on his mind.
As Evans was shaving Darcy, there was a knock at the door.
“See who it is, Evans, will you?”
Evans went to the door.
“It’s a lady, sir. Lady Hazelmere.”
“Please have her wait a minute while you finish.”
Evans relayed the message and returned. Darcy submitted impatiently to the shaving, his mind racing with possibilities. He jumped up the moment Evans wiped off the shaving soap and rushed to the door to jerk it open.
“My apologies, Lady Hazelmere.”
“No need to apologize, Mr. Darcy. I would not wish to intrude on you in a state ofdéshabillé.”
“Nothing so scandalous, I assure you, Lady Hazelmere. My man was shaving me.”
“Well then, I have a surprise visitor for you.”
Smiling, Lady Hazelmere turned to look behind her and put out her hand. Bingley stepped forward and took it. She led him into the room.
Darcy’s spirits soared, then plummeted again as Bingley smiled at him. It was the same vacant smile. Still, he was on his feet and although he seemed thinner, he otherwise looked like his usual self.
“Bingley, this is excellent news! You are up and about!”
Bingley did not react. Darcy could only hope Bingley could actually hear him.
“He is eager to move around.” Lady Hazelmere was looking very pleased with herself, though Darcy did not suppose she could take the credit for his recovery. Still, the Healers had been taking care of him, and he could not deny their role.
“How is his condition?”
“He has lost some of his strength. The Healers will take it in turns walking him around to help him recover his legs. Otherwise, he seems quite healthy.”
“I am delighted you can move around, Bingley.” It occurred to him that Bingley might find it confusing to wake up in a strange place. He took his arm and guided him to the window.
“Look, we are in the countryside. That hill over there is called Oakham Mount.” Darcy thought of Elizabeth. “This house is called Netherfield Park.”
Bingley stared out of the window.
