The company followed Lady Hortensia from the dining room into an apartment on the south side of the house which Darcy had not yet seen. It was a handsome room, longer than it was broad, with tall windows standing open upon the terrace to admit the cool evening air. Chairs had been arranged in a loose semicircle about a small walnut table upon which rested a chessboard already prepared for play.
The company immediately divided. The ladies gathered near the windows in a lively knot of discussion. They talked over each other for several minutes before Darcy spoke up. "Lady Hortensia has asked us to nominate our strongest player. Is there anyone amongst us who has played seriously?"
"Sir Geoffrey," said Hadley at once. "He represented Cambridge."
Sir Geoffrey inclined his head. "Only twice," he said with sincere modesty.
"He defeated the rest of us often enough," replied Hadley cheerfully.
"Then I think our decision is made," said Darcy. "If anyone has a stronger claim, now is the moment to make it."
Mr Ashcombe, who had thus far contributed very little, glanced towards the ladies. "This may prove a remarkably short evening."
Hadley looked up. "How so?"
Ashcombe smiled and smoothed back his golden hair. "The ladies are everything charming, but they may not play chess at all. If not, Sir Geoffrey may win by default."
Darcy looked at him with distaste. He had no time for this pompous dandy. He did not make a reply and simply nodded to Sir Geoffrey.
It was only then that his attention wandered across the room. Miss Elizabeth stood amongst the ladies with Miss Drummond upon one side and the Sitcombe sisters upon the other. Miss Harriet was advocating with great enthusiasm for something, for she spoke with both hands moving rapidly. Lady Frances appeared to disagree. Miss Elizabeth said very little. Presently she asked Clara a question. Darcy could not hear the reply, but whatever passed between them caused Clara to shake her head at first, then smile despite herself before giving a reluctant nod.
Miss Elizabeth smiled in return and the discussion appeared settled. Lord, her hair looked like fire in the candlelight and her skin glowed as though she was lit from within. He felt a pull to go to her, to run a finger down the smooth column of her neck and... He shook his head, trying to clear the thought. He mustget control of these unsettling urges. He was controlled and considered, always. He did not go around pining after unsuitable women. And she was unsuitable, he had learned that she was from a minor country estate, no connections, no wealth. She was not the type of match a man of his stature could afford to make.
Richard appeared beside him carrying two glasses of port. He offered one to Darcy, who accepted it absently, his attention still resting upon the group of ladies gathered by the windows.
"Miss Elizabeth has certainly captured your attention, cousin. I do believe you've spent more time watching the opposing captain than your own side. Are you still smarting that she got the better of you this afternoon?"
Darcy accepted the glass at last and took an unhurried sip before answering. "Hardly. I was observing the competition. I should have thought a soldier would understand the value of reconnaissance."
Richard let out a bark of laughter. "Reconnaissance? Is that what we're calling it? It looked remarkably like—what was the term you used earlier—mooning."
"I am not mooning. And besides, you are hardly one to talk."
"Oh?"
"You have scarcely taken your eyes off Miss Bennet since we arrived."
Richard smiled without the slightest embarrassment. "I make no apology for that. And I must say, it is nice to see the dour Fitzwilliam Darcy defeated by such a spirited young lady."
"I am not defeated… or dour!"
Richard raised his glass with a grin. "Whatever you say, cousin."
???
Clara had been selected by the ladies’ team after much deliberation. She and Sir Geoffrey took their places at the chessboard and the room gradually settled around them. Lady Hortensia sat in a comfortable armchair near the front, with Pritchard at her side. Elizabeth watched for several minutes without absorbing any of it. Her attention continued to stray towards Mr Darcy, who stood a little apart from his team with one arm resting along the mantelpiece.
When Sir Geoffrey paused to consider his next move, Elizabeth crossed the room. "Mr Darcy, might I speak with you for a moment?"
He looked surprised, but bowed at once. "Of course, Miss Elizabeth."
They passed through the broad open doors onto the terrace, where the air was cooler and the sounds of the chess matchbecame a low murmur behind them. The candles from the drawing room cast long squares of light across the flagstones, but beyond them the gardens lay in darkness, touched here and there by moonlight upon the pale gravel paths. Elizabeth walked as far as the balustrade before turning to face him.
"I wished to apologise for what happened this afternoon. I know that I was not responsible for Mrs Harrington’s conduct, nor did I have any knowledge of it, but I was captain of the ladies and we accepted the victory. I am sorry that the first day of the Challenge ended in such a dishonourable way."
"You have nothing to apologise for on that account," Mr Darcy replied. "The deception was practised upon you as much as anyone."
"Perhaps, but that is not the only apology I owe you." Elizabeth clasped her hands before her, annoyed to discover that the speech she had rehearsed now seemed considerably less simple. "You behaved very badly when we first met, Mr Darcy, and I do not withdraw that judgement. But I also allowed my ambition today to provoke less than sporting behaviour and I spoke to you quite rudely."
