Mr Ashcombe, who had been listening from farther down the table, leaned into the conversation. "I dare say Mr Darcy only means that gentlemen are more used to open contest. Ladies possess other accomplishments, of course, and very charming ones."
"Mr Ashcombe," said Elizabeth, "you relieve me exceedingly. I had begun to fear we possessed no useful qualities at all."
Darcy’s gaze returned to Elizabeth. There was something like apology in it, though his manner remained stiff enough to make the effort difficult to receive.
"I spoke clumsily," he said. "Lady Hortensia made it clear the contests are intended to be fair."
Mr Hadley looked from one to the other with evident enjoyment. "Well, that is something settled. I always like a peaceful dinner."
Mrs Cartwright glanced towards him. "Do you call this peaceful?"
Before he could answer, Lady Hortensia called down the table, something that was certainly not the behaviour of a society hostess. "Peaceful, Mr Hadley? I hope not. I have not gone to all this trouble for a dull dinner."
Mr Hadley lifted his glass towards her. "Then I shall do my best to oblige you, my lady."
Elizabeth smiled and returned to her food. Dull was one thing this week was not likely to be.
Chapter Eight
Lady Hortensia had made it known after dinner that parents, guardians and unnecessary companions would depart for the Dower House early the following morning, before the competitors came down to breakfast. Mrs Harrington had objected to this arrangement vigorously and Elizabeth had wondered whether she meant to chain herself to the banister. Lady Hortensia had remained unmoved. She calmly but firmly repeated the arrangements before retiring—leaving Mrs Harrington to be calmed by some of the other mamas.
Mr Bennet had been much easier to manage. He had kissed Jane on the forehead, kissed Elizabeth on the cheek and told them both that he expected either victory or a very entertaining defeat.
Now, as Elizabeth fastened the bodice of her morning gown, the house felt strangely altered by his absence. She knew he was not far away. The Dower House stood upon the estate, and she would no doubt see him before very long. Even so, it was odd to wake under a roof full of strangers and know that her father was not here to guide her.
She looked at herself in the glass and tried to appear like a young woman capable of leading nine others to victory. She attempted one of the heroic poses that Mr Ashcombe favoured, her chin tilted up like a Greek marble. The effect was not at all convincing and she laughed to herself. She felt a little calmer today, and she could and would play her role to the best of her ability, whatever challenges lay ahead.
A knock sounded at the door. Elizabeth turned, expecting Jane. Instead, Harriet Sitcombe opened it and exploded into the room, ribbons flying and cheeks flushed. "Oh good," Harriet said. "You are dressed."
Elizabeth tried to compose her face. "As you see."
"I told Clara you would be. She said we ought not disturb you before breakfast, but I said there was not a moment to lose."
Before Elizabeth could ask what moment was in danger of being lost, Clara appeared behind her sister looking apologetic and faintly out of breath. "I did tell her to wait," she said.
Elizabeth laughed and beckoned them both in. "This is an unexpected pleasure. Come in, come in."
"We must have a council," Harriet announced.
"A council?"
"A council of war."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to enquire what exactly she meant when it became clear that Harriet’s notion of a council had not stopped with her sister. Before Elizabeth could speak, Mrs Cartwright appeared in the doorway, wrapped in her shawl and looking serious. "Miss Harriet informed me there was an emergency," she said.
"There is," said Harriet. "The gentlemen will be planning. I am certain of it. They will be gathered somewhere cooking up plans for our defeat. And if they are planning, then we must plan too."
Mrs Cartwright considered this with a raised brow. "I had not understood them to be quite so immediate a danger."
Elizabeth was wondering whether, as captain, she ought to take charge of the situation when Miss Harrington arrived in pale blue muslin, her eyes taking in the crowded chamber with an uncertain air.
"I was informed that the ladies were assembling here," she said. "Naturally, I am…" she paused awkwardly, "assembling."
Lady Frances Elwood came next, and even Harriet seemed to remember herself enough to stand a little straighter. Elizabeth had seen Lady Frances only at a distance the previous evening. Nearer to, she was more striking than pretty, tall and composed in a deep rose morning gown, with dark hair arranged simply. She was the highest-ranking lady among them, and she greetedElizabeth with a graceful curtsy and a calm, "Miss Elizabeth. I understand our side is assembling."
"So it seems," said Elizabeth.
"Then I am glad to join you."
