A silence fell on the room. Elizabeth picked up her book on Derbyshire then tossed it aside in exasperation. What had possessed her to borrow such a book? What use was it to her. It was unlikely she would ever go there.
“Shall we go to the lending library to get you another book?” said Mrs. Gardiner, shrewdly.
Now that the opportunity to exchange the book had arisen, Elizabeth found herself reluctant to do so. “No, I am determined to finish it, come what may.”
Mrs. Gardiner shook her head and smiled. “Very well. Let us read our books then, so we can return them tomorrow.”
Elizabeth picked up the book, but the more she read about Derbyshire, the more she became convinced that she would have liked it very much indeed. Eventually, she put it down and sat contemplating her situation glumly.
“You are becoming too morose, Lizzy. We need to find something to occupy your mind. Shall we go to the theatre tonight? There is a new performance by Kemble. I have been looking forward to it for some time. It is a shame we do not go to the theatre more often, when we have a box for the season.” She paused to examine Elizabeth. “I have an idea. Do you remember Mr. Millett? You met him last year, and I remember you liked him. He seemed quite taken with you. Your uncle can invite him to join us. It will do you some good to be around someone your age.”
Elizabeth would rather have stayed at home, but she did not want to appear ungrateful, and she had been looking forward to seeing this Mr. Kemble in this role.
As for Mr. Gardiner suddenly inviting Mr. Millett, it was all too obvious what he was doing. Though it was true she had formed a good impression of Mr. Millett when she last saw him. Perhaps Mr. Millett was the distraction she needed to get rid of the melancholy that was settling over her.
Though she very much doubted it.
It had been some time since Darcy had gone to his club. Tired of staying at home and brooding over Miss Bennet’s unfortunate situation, he decided it was time he returned to his regular activities.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was sitting at the window, his favorite place at Whites’. He must have spotted Darcy, because, by the time Darcy arrived at the door, the colonel was already there.
“So you decided to come to the club, Darcy? Are you certain you want to brave the den?”
As he handed over his hat and overcoat, Darcy looked around him at the familiar wood paneling, the painting of his grandfather in the far corner, and the famous bay window.
“Of course. This club has been my refuge for many years. I am not about to let some gossip drive me away.”
The colonel shrugged. “As long as you are prepared.”
As soon as Darcy stepped into the main drawing room, he began to wonder if his cousin was right to be doubtful. A number of gentlemen put down their newspapers to stare at him, while others turned to their companions and started to whisper. Darcy was accustomed to being the center of attention at balls and other events, and knew how to deal with it, but it was usually the matrons and young ladies who eyed him there. Being the targetof rumors from gentlemen who were his peers was a completely different matter.
He held his ground. It was uncomfortable, but he was determined to stay the course. He sat down and ordered drinks for him and his cousin, and tried not to look in the direction of the betting book where his name and that of the ‘Siren’ were written. He would not dignify it with his attention.
They sipped their drinks, but Darcy soon began to feel restless. The space that was his home away from home did not feel welcoming. The dark walls which were normally comforting now felt oppressive. He could not feel at ease.
“Shall we go up to the billiards room?”
Richard nodded and gulped down the rest of his drink. A group of young gentlemen were at a table on one side of the room, watching two of them play and shouting encouragement to the players. It was clear they had laid bets on who would win.
He recognized a few of them from that day in the park. When he spoke to the attendant, they all looked in his direction, elbowing each other and stifling their laughter. Darcy felt a visceral dislike for their eighteen-year-old grinning faces, but he ignored them. Having received the cue sticks from the attendant, he took up position on the table furthest from the young crowd.
It was not until he had completed a cannon that the sound of inebriated laughter broke into his concentration.
“I tell you, he was wading through the water, with the Siren in his arms,” one of the young men was saying. “She was so soaked, she may as well have been naked!”
Darcy saw red. Still holding the cue stick in his hand, he strode over to the young gentleman. He now recognized him as the one who had gone to fetch the coachman.
“You!” he said. “How dare you speak this way, when you stood by on the bank and allowed a little girl to drown instead of assisting! You stand here and mock me when you did not have the decency to offer the young lady your coat. And you dare cast aspersions on someone who could have drowned! A shriveling coward who was afraid to enter the cold water! I have a mind to challenge you to a duel!”
“I meant no harm, sir,” stammered the young man, his face bright red with embarrassment. “It was just harmless fun.”
“Harmless fun? To ruin the reputation of a young lady instead of rescuing her? How is that harmless fun? You had better not utter a single word about Miss—”
A heavy hand fell on Darcy’s shoulder. Meanwhile, an expectant silence filled the billiards room. Nobody moved.
Heavens! Had he almost revealed Miss Bennet’s name? He was filled with horror. He realized now that he was holding the billiard stick like a sword, pointing it at the young man.
“I am sure Lord Morrison will be more prudent from now on,” said the colonel. “Meanwhile, I am feeling some pangs of hunger. Will you join me in the dining room, Darcy?”
