Page 44 of Affectations of Candour

Convinced as she was that there truly was no understanding, Elizabeth could then only be revolted by Miss Wright’s deceit. Dear God, she must be desperate, indeed! To what lengths might she go to achieve her goal? Next to Hannah Wright, Caroline Bingley’s attempts to win the gentleman seemed rather feeble.

Throughout the remainder of the first course and during all of the second, Elizabeth was uncharacteristically quiet. In a brown study, she admitted that she was at fault for even briefly presuming Mr Darcy guilty of toying with her while engaged to another; she was quite certain that Miss Wright, after three glasses of wine, was not only a wicked teller of untruths but a tippler as well.

So, if Miss Wright lied about having a secret understanding, then the man I hold in affection is not attached, and I may cease trying to deny my own interest and stop feigning indifference. Whether he is a suspicious, arrogant prig or not, I like him very, very much.

“Miss Bennet.” Mr Darcy’s sonorous voice, so near, so soon after her silent declaration, roused her from those musings and sent frissons of exhilaration throughout her body. “Would you care for an ice to cleanse the palate?” He gestured to the footman who carried a tray and was offering her an ice-cream in a pretty little dessert cup.

Smiling, Elizabeth accepted it and admired the lemon-coloured treat garnished with shaved pistachios. Each ice, she noticed, had a slightly different topping—dried fruit, candied rose petals, lavender buds, slivered almonds, or seasonal berries. Miss Wright’s ice appeared to be an even deeper shade of yellow than the others, but Elizabeth attributed that to a trick of the evening sunlight shining through a window directly behind her.

“If anyone is wondering about our dessert’s sunny colour,” said Miss Darcy, “I am told that the ingredient responsible for that is a spice called saffron. Please, everyone, enjoy.”

Elizabeth dipped her spoon into the creamy confection and savoured her first taste. Chopped, roasted pistachios gave the dessert a nutty flavour and rose water its floral fragrance. Her cup was soon empty. Sensing that someone across the way was watching her with undue interest, she looked into Miss Wright’s eyes and perceived something like expectation.

Realising she had been caught staring, the other woman lowered her gaze and finished her own ice-cream. Then, upon putting down her spoon, Miss Wright fingered the deep-red stone of her pendant and asked, “Miss Bennet, did you enjoy your almond-garnished ice?”

“It was absolutely ambrosial, Miss Wright. However, mine had shaved pistachios on top, not almonds.”

The lady stared in horror, first at her empty dessert cup, then at the footman who had placed the confection in front of her.

Miss Hughes hurried to Elizabeth’s side while the ladies followed Miss Darcy and Miss Baker to the drawing room. “Will you please be my whist partner? If you agree, we shall play against Miss Darcy and Miss Althea. It will be Cliff House versus Strandsmere Park.”

“Yes, I would like to do so, my friend.” Such a grouping would conveniently eliminate the chance of Elizabeth finding herself at Mr Darcy’s table. Acknowledgement of liking him—and, perhaps, learning to love him—did not quite yet trump her affront at his having doubted her.

Ahead, the eldest Wright sister stumbled to a halt.

“Are you well, Miss Wright?” asked Miss Hughes.

“Yes, yes.” The lady turned towards them and swayed. “I am just a trifle…dizzy…upon standing.”

“You must lie down until it passes,” suggested Elizabeth. “I have heard it said that a person suffering from giddiness should limit their intake of rich food and alcoholic drink, such as wine and eels in a cider cream sauce.”

If she is anything like Aunt Philips, who becomes embarrassingly outspoken while even slightly intoxicated, perhaps she will speak aloud of all her secrets—betrothals or misunderstandings.

Miss Margaret rushed to her elder sister’s side, Miss Althea close on her heels. The three then slowly made their way to the drawing room, where the afflicted one was eased down upon a chaise longue and a delicately embroidered cushion placed behind her head.

Miss Darcy and Miss Baker, who had started arranging cups upon the tea table, came over. “What has befallen you, dear?” asked Miss Hughes’s aunt.

Placing the back of a hand upon her forehead, Miss Wright closed her eyes. “I am much oppressed by a crowd of differing images.” Opening one eye, she startled upon seeing all the ladies encircling her. “A whole crowd of them!” Then she laughed herself into exhaustion.

Frowning in evident concern, Miss Darcy told them she would summon the housekeeper. “Mrs Carter will know what to do.”

Their young hostess was halfway across the room when Miss Wright sat up and cried, “No! Do not involve your housekeeper. Really, I am well.”

“If you are certain.” Miss Darcy looked dubious. “I shall just be over there at the tea table, should you change your mind.”

“I wish you would go to your bedchamber, Hannah,” said Miss Althea.

Taking a silk shawl from the back of the chaise longue, Miss Margaret placed it over her sister. “Perhaps you will feel better in a moment or two. Remember, we are to play whist…if you are capable of standing, recalling which suit is trump, and not showing your hand. Do you understand what I am saying, Hannah?”

“Yes, yes!” Struggling to rise, Miss Wright pushed her sisters out of the way. “Move aside. I will not allow Mr Darcy to see me lounging about in a stupor while there is a task to perform.” Stumbling over her feet and her words, she added, “I earlier promised his sister my assistance with pouring the coffee.”

With five ladies following close behind, ready to steady her, Miss Wright staggered to the tea table.

When the gentlemen came in, Elizabeth sought Mr Darcy’s eye and was pleased when he immediately looked for her and not Miss Wright. Such gratification was a result of not only Elizabeth’s own vanity; she was equally glad he had not noticed Miss Wright’s state. As much as she did not care for the woman, she wished to shield her from unwanted scrutiny and ensuing embarrassment. While it was entirely acceptable for a member of the opposite sex to be completely foxed, it was a scandalous thing for a lady to be even slightly intoxicated.

The other ladies must have felt the same, for they had crowded round the table where Miss Darcy was making tea. None of them trusted Miss Wright, in her condition, with a hot beverage, so Miss Baker volunteered to pour the coffee. The tipsy one was tasked with arranging fruit and biscuits upon plates, which she did in a haphazard manner. And so, in close confederacy, the women propped her up when Miss Wright swayed, hushed her when she became boisterous, roused her when she became drowsy, and soothed her when she seemed ready to weep.

Upon their father’s approach, Misses Margaret and Althea moved in front of their elder sister, concealing her. “Papa,” said his youngest daughter, “have a seat, and I shall bring you a nice cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits.”