Page 45 of Affectations of Candour

As for Mr Darcy, he was in another part of the room, speaking with Mr Baker. Elizabeth followed him with her eyes and envied Miss Hughes’s uncle for having the gentleman’s undivided attention. Then she grew angry with herself for being absurd. Why must I keep reminding myself that I am not best pleased with him?

Following the serving of refreshments and once the tables were placed, their host unenthusiastically said, “Shall we play cards now?”

Elizabeth, Miss Darcy, Miss Hughes, and Miss Althea moved with dignified alacrity to the nearest table. Mr Baker and Mr Wright went to another to play piquet for higher stakes, although a sensible limit had been set by the master of the house. That left Mr Darcy and Miss Baker with the dubious honour of partnering against the two eldest Miss Wrights. As Elizabeth watched everyone taking their places, she thought it highly probable that the whist hands played by Miss Wright would be superlatively stupid ones. A number of overheard utterances from that table throughout the night proved her prophetic, and one such was particularly perplexing.

“Whose turn is it? I have dismembered.” Miss Wright then dissolved into a paroxysm of laughter before wailing, “I have been hoisted by my own petard!”

Mr Darcy glared at her from across their table. “Do you mean to say that a nefarious plan of your own rebounded upon you?”

“Several!” Nodding, she squinted at him. “That maid…Molly? She…” Miss Wright mumbled something unintelligible about saffron’s sedative properties. Then, gaining her feet, she swayed and pointed at Elizabeth. “I am in my cups,” she mumbled, “because you somehow substituted your dessert for mine.”

Miss Darcy rang for the housekeeper.

“Hush, sister,” pleaded Miss Margaret, moving to Miss Wright’s side. She looked to her father for assistance, but he and Mr Baker were far across the room, engrossed in their wagering.

“My hands, Meg! Why do they tingle so?” Miss Wright’s consternation was evident as she struggled to stay upright. “My feet. I cannot feel my feet!” She held onto her head. “So dizzy. So sleepy!”

Finally aware of the commotion, Mr Wright rose from his chair so suddenly that it toppled.

“Hannah is obviously feeling poorly. Please excuse us.” Miss Margaret took Miss Wright by the arm and steered her towards the door.

Miss Wright broke free and stumbled back to Mr Darcy. Becoming too familiar with his person, she took his hand in hers. “Tell her, sir. Tell Miss Bennet that we have a secret understanding.”

Gently, Mr Darcy freed his hand from hers. “There is no secret understanding between us, madam, and I fear you are quite unwell.”

There is the ultimate validation! Closing her eyes, Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief and covered her mouth to conceal a smile.

Mr Wright intervened, pulling his eldest away from Mr Darcy. “Mark my words, sir, I shall get to the bottom of this secret understanding that you have with Hannah.” While helping Miss Margaret escort her sister out of the room, he turned and added, “My dearest girl is unaccustomed to consuming alcohol. I fear you served her too much of your fine wine with dinner, and I suspect you had an ulterior motive for doing so. Come along now, Thea.”

Mr Darcy simply shook his head in obvious disgust.

Miss Althea mouthed the word ‘sorry’ to Miss Darcy. Then, head bowed, she followed her family out of the drawing room.

The housekeeper arrived, listened to Miss Darcy’s quiet instructions, then silently slipped away.

Once Mrs Carter had gone, Mr Darcy stepped up next to his sister. “Mr Baker, ladies, please accept our apologies for all that pother. Will you stay, please, while I attend to the matter?”

After consulting with his sister, Mr Baker said, “I thank you, sir, but, unless there is aught we may do for you, I think it best that we take our leave. If you would, please be so kind as to call for our carriage.”

“A moment, if you will, Mr Baker,” begged Elizabeth. “Miss Darcy, may we please have a private word?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Upon leaving the drawing room, Elizabeth immediately regretted her rash impertinence.

“Miss Darcy, please accept my apology for placing you in the hateful predicament of feeling obliged to humour me. I urgently need to speak with Miss Wright about a matter that cannot wait, and I was desperately hoping you might agree to accompany me. I could not request either your brother’s or Mr Baker’s presence because Miss Wright must be in her bedchamber by now. And instead of asking Miss Hughes or her aunt to come with me, I thought you, as tonight’s hostess, might be considered an impartial witness by the Wright family. One would assume that at least one of Miss Wright’s sisters must, at present, be attending her.”

“Of course, Miss Bennet. Come.” Miss Darcy walked towards the passage leading to the guest rooms. “I am appalled by the events of this evening and cannot believe Miss Wright uttered such odd ramblings in a voice so lacking in discretion. I was, and am, truly confounded. However, I believe there is more to her condition than meets the eye or the ear. Completely clear-headed when we sat down to dinner, she seems more intoxicated than even three glasses of wine could cause, at least in my inexpert estimation.”

“True. But Miss Wright mentioned the sedative properties of saffron. If that is the case, then wine may have augmented its effects.”

“That you were accused of having substituted your dessert for Miss Wright’s is perplexing. When she first mentioned Molly, I summoned and spoke with Mrs Carter. Please be assured that she, my brother, and I shall not allow the matter to go unaddressed.”

“I do have a theory about the substitution of ices, Miss Darcy, and that is why I wanted you with me. That is, if we are even permitted a moment with the lady.”

“She is a guest. As her hostess, I should be allowed admittance. Simply remain beside me.”

“I pray,” said Elizabeth, “that tonight’s outcome, whatever it might be, will not hinder your friendship with Miss Althea. She seems quite different from the rest of her family.”