Page 52 of Affectations of Candour

In Strandsmere’s expansive drawing room, all the Wrights, except the eldest daughter, who had been confined to her bedchamber, had just sat down with the Darcys when Thomas, the senior footman, came to the doorway.

“Miss Bennet and Miss Hughes to see Miss Darcy.”

James Wright, who had been wandering about the room examining books and knick-knackery, bounded over. “Darcy, do be a good fellow and introduce me to these lovely ladies.”

As Darcy made the formal presentations, he had to concede that the younger man, once he had been cleaned up, was undeniably blessed with good looks. The scoundrel cut quite a dash and could be charming. However, according to Alexander Pope, charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.

Earlier that morning, when he had warned Georgiana about the Wright heir, she had told him not to fret. Because of Wickham, she would forever be wary of men’s attentions and intentions. Elizabeth and her friend, Darcy assumed, were too discerning to have their heads turned by superficial attractiveness.

“Miss Hughes, Miss Bennet, how do you do?” James Wright bowed over Miss Hughes’s hand, then reached for Elizabeth’s. At that same instant, Hector inserted himself beneath her outstretched arm, bumping the lady’s fingers with his head, hoping for affectionate pats or scratches.

“Darcy, old boy, do try to teach this giant beast of yours some manners, will you? I am miffed at having a dog steal a march on my gallantry.”

“Hector is mine,” said Georgiana from her place at a wide, cushioned window seat. She then instructed a maid carrying a tray of tea things to place it upon a small table near the fireplace.

“Oh. Well, I dare say he is a fine”—the young man eyed the Newfoundland dog with evident trepidation—“elephantine fellow.” After everyone else was seated and had exchanged a few pleasantries, he strolled about the room again, stopping at the tea table. “Ah! What have we here? May I?” He picked up a pastry and nibbled on it while, to Darcy’s vexation, ensconcing himself on the window seat beside Georgiana. The cushion had recently been occupied by Heiress Tottle, and Wright seemed unmindful of the cat hair that would cling to his clothing.

Miss Hughes, who had shifted aside the instant Wright’s father had sat next to her on a sofa, said to no one in particular, “Are those Bath buns I see?”

“Indeed they are.” Seeming grateful for an excuse to move away from the presumptuous young man, Georgiana rose from the window seat and moved to the tea table, where she proceeded to pour for her guests and her brother. “I asked Cook to make them especially for you, Miss Hughes, because I know how you long to go to that city. Please, everyone”—she gestured to the buns—“do try them.”

“Yes, ladies,” said Wright, his mouth somewhat full, “by all means do have one. I dare say you will find it a toothsome dainty. Mmm! In fact, I have just discovered a delightful lump of sugar in the middle of mine. But why, my dear Miss Hughes, if you do not mind my asking, are you so eager to see Bath? Have you never been?”

“No. Neither Miss Bennet nor I have been there, sir.”

From his adjacent chair, Darcy watched in amusement as Hector sat directly in front of James Wright, who seemed unaware of the viscous streams of slobber leaking from the dog’s mouth and forming a puddle upon his highly polished shoes. Darcy assumed John, the degraded footman, had been responsible for the shine.

“I hope you will have the opportunity to go there as soon as may be. Such a divine creature as you deserves some merrymaking after spending so long a time in this place. Sorry, Darcy. That is no reflection on your fine villa, I am sure. But for us young people, Wyman’s Cove must be as dull as ditch-water.”

An excellent place to rusticate and hide from creditors, though, is it not?

Miss Althea glared at her brother. “Do not excite yourself. A trip to Bath would not be intended for merrymaking. Miss Hughes is still in half-mourning.”

Catching Darcy’s gaze, Georgiana discreetly but gleefully, if her eyes were any indication, pointed at young Mr Wright’s shoes. “Were such a visit to be undertaken,” she said, “it would be meant as a cultural and educational exploration of the city, a chance for architectural appreciation, as well as a sentimental experience for the Bakers who, I am told, lived there for some time. However, if everyone is considerate of the fact that Miss Hughes and her aunt and uncle are still grieving, I am sure that a visit to Bath could be a quiet, respectable, but perfectly delightful one.”

Darcy could not help but feel satisfaction at having the younger man subtlety censured by both Miss Althea and Georgiana, and his heart swelled with pride at his sister’s continued emergence from her self-imposed shell.

Having taken a hasty sip of tea and finding it too hot, James Wright placed his cup upon a table close at hand and crossed one leg over the other. He then directed sad-eyed looks in turn at Georgiana and Miss Hughes. “You charming ladies now find me perfectly wretched that I have missed so much time in your exquisite company. Truly, I am miserable. And so, you simply must allow me to make up for all those lost se’nnights. What say you two lovelies to a stroll along the shore?”

Miss Althea interrupted. “We have other plans, Brother.”

“Having but two arms, little sister, I planned on offering one to Miss Darcy, the other to Miss Hughes, and none at all to you.”

“Surely your plans may be altered, Thea,” said her father. “James may escort both diamonds of the first water while the rest of us remain here with Miss Bennet and enquire whether she knows anything about a certain necklace.” He shot Elizabeth a smile that was both mocking and contemptuous.

Vexation and heat flaring through his body at the barbs Mr Wright had aimed at Elizabeth, Darcy deftly turned the conversation, suggesting they all go for a walk in the gardens, on the beach, or along Willow Bourn. Preferably the latter, where father and son may take a long walk on a short dock.

Georgiana indicated that a stroll may be taken at any time but painting sunlight and passing boats on the Channel could not. “We ladies had best adhere to our original plan and set up our tables along the cliff.”

“I agree with Miss Darcy,” said Miss Hughes.

“Is it this spicy, woody fragrance I washed with?” Wright sniffed himself. “It is, is it not? By George, Darcy, I shall have Graham’s guts for garters if it is this soap of yours acting as a repellent. I told your valet that it smells of cedar.”

“I doubt that it was the soap, James,” said Miss Margaret. “I suspect it was those soppy, grandiloquent compliments—‘divine’, ‘exquisite’, ‘lovely’, and whatnot—that you keep paying to the ladies.”

“Well, Meg, these days the only pleasant things to pay, or that one can afford to pay, are compliments.” Wright laughed bitterly.

“I am perfectly serious, big brother, and it is hardly a laughing matter. I do not care for flattery, nor do I comprehend why men think they are pleasing us ladies by spouting blandishments they do not mean.”