Page 38 of Affectations of Candour

During the carriage ride from Strandsmere, Hannah continued to fret, but she did not regret any pain she might have caused her rival. Somehow I shall ruin her reputation before she ruins mine. Then, if she dares to speak against me, no one will believe her.

Having hoped to be informed that the patient was bedridden, feverish, and unable to receive callers, Hannah, upon entering Cliff House with Miss Darcy and Althea, was immediately treated to the annoying and familiar sound of Elizabeth Bennet’s laughter.

The factotum who had opened the door—and who had steered the boat that she, Margaret, and her father had occupied and whose name she had not bothered to learn—left them standing in the vestibule while he enquired whether the ladies of the house were receiving.

A maid appeared. Startled upon seeing visitors, she bobbed a curtsey, carelessly tossed the post upon a console table, then fled.

Well, thought Hannah, one can hardly help but glance at the name written upon the topmost letter, can one?

The factotum returned. “Miss Hughes will receive you, but Miss Baker is gone to the village to fetch some books from the lending library.” He then led the way to the sitting room.

Hannah lagged behind the others. Glancing about and seeing no one, and without a second thought as to possible consequences, she slid the topmost letter off the table and into her reticule. Only by reading Miss Bennet’s personal correspondence could she possibly discover the secrets the young lady doubtless hid. The only other letter was left behind.

Disappointed to find her enemy all pink-cheeked and glowing with health, her shoulders began to droop, but she squared them and took the chair indicated by Miss Hughes. Hanging upon the wall directly above Hannah’s head was the most hideous clock she had ever seen. Really, there is no accounting for other people’s tastes.

While Miss Darcy and Althea made a fuss over Miss Bennet, Hannah looked round the room with its threadbare carpets and foreign paintings, then offered her young hostess a genuine smile. To her rival for Mr Darcy’s attention she gave a false one. “How lovely to see you up and about, Miss Bennet.”

The chit glanced at the clock. “It is past one, Miss Wright, and I rarely sleep beyond seven.”

Is she staring at my reticule? Fearing that the shape of the stolen letter might be obvious through the silk bag upon her lap, Hannah pressed her hand over it and gasped when the filched item inside crinkled. Why did it sound so loud? She glanced at the others. Had anyone else heard it? Well, why should I not have paper in my reticule?

She tried to subdue her anxiety, but the knowledge that she had done something terribly wrong was exposing her to a myriad of inquietudes. Had guilt made her anxious to such a degree that it might be perceived by others, particularly Althea? Dear God, I must put this letter back!

“You misunderstood me, Miss Bennet. What I meant is that it is lovely to see you up and about after yesterday’s mishap. Although…perhaps it would be advisable to remain abed awhile, at least until”—Mr Darcy and I are, in truth, engaged—“we are certain that you are free from some horrid affliction. It might take considerable time for symptoms of disease to appear after one has been submerged in murky water. Heaven knows what evils thrive at the bottom of that mere.”

Across the room, Althea glared at her.

“Evils, indeed.” Miss Bennet gave a little laugh. “I thought it might be a toothy pike when Hector clamped onto my wrist. And what I had feared was a nasty lamprey was, in fact, Mr Darcy’s arm sliding round my waist.”

“His…arm. Round your waist, you say? My, my.” Behind Hannah’s eyes, everything went red. Elizabeth Bennet will never know the contents of this letter! “How fortunate you were to have such a hero. Mr Darcy, the man who saved you from shallow water.” Her quick, high-pitched laughter sounded shrill, even to Hannah’s own ears, and she caught another glimpse of Althea’s scorn.

“My brother estimated it was six feet deep.” Miss Darcy spoke in a direct manner and looked Hannah in the eye. “And a person can drown in far less than that.”

And who would dare argue with a Darcy? It was on the tip of Hannah’s tongue to do so, but she abstained.

The same maid who had placed the accursed letter in temptation’s way entered with a tea service, and while Miss Hughes poured, Miss Bennet spoke.

“Miss Wright, I have been remiss in thanking you for the lovely little watercolour you made for my album amicorum. Oh, would you like to see the delightful message Mr Darcy wrote in it?” She rose from her chair and crossed the room.

You take great pleasure in adding insult to injury, do you? “There is nothing I would like better.” …than for you to leave Somerset and go back to Herefordshire or wherever you belong. The welts on Hannah’s arms chose that moment to itch like the dickens, and she thought she might go mad if she could not scratch them.

Following Miss Bennet with her eyes, Miss Darcy said, “I was asked by Miss Margaret to extend to you her best wishes for your good health.”

“Then please thank her for me. Now, Miss Wright, here is my friendship book, open to the pertinent page.”

Hannah read Mr Darcy’s entry, and it was evident that he had put some thought into it, for his message referenced both debates and the game of shuttlecock and battledore. “How nice.” She closed the book and passed it back to her enemy.

Resisting the impulse to fidget or scratch, Hannah realised her mouth had gone so terribly dry that she could scarcely swallow. Taking an indecorous gulp of the tea that she had been given, she found it strong and bitter. Did I not ask for milk? Is Miss Hughes smirking at me? She placed the cup and saucer aside.

When a startling sound came from above her head, Hannah’s short, sharp shriek was delivered in the same manner as the painful yelp Hector had uttered when she had purposely stepped upon his paw. Thankful that the cup of hot tea was no longer in her hand, she cried, “What on earth was that ungodly racket?”

“All I heard was your indecorous yelp, Sister.” Althea smirked at her.

“I think she meant the sound the cuckoo clock made when it struck half past one.” Miss Hughes pointed to the hideous timepiece. “It was a gift to my aunt and uncle from some distant cousin of theirs in Germany.”

“It did take quite a while to become accustomed to the sound.” Miss Bennet took a sip of tea.

I swear she is hiding a smirk behind that cup. “Well, my goodness, half past one. How our time here has flown.” Hannah stood. “Miss Darcy, Thea, shall we?”