Page 7 of Affectations of Candour

One can only hope. Darcy pressed fisted knuckles against his lips, lest such uncharitable words escape.

“How I wish there had been sufficient room in here for dear Hannah to travel with us. She is such an entertaining conversationalist.” Sighing, Miss Althea shot Hector, Georgiana’s loyal and sweet-tempered Newfoundland dog, a pointed look.

“I am sorry, my friend. I cannot abide the thought of Hector sitting unsecured next to the coachman. You know how terribly I spoil my dog. And I would greatly fear for his safety were he sitting outside, for he cannot hold on like a person can. As well, were he out there, he would bark at each creature he sees, driving everyone to distraction. It was fortunate that Mrs Annesley decided to spend the summer visiting family in Nottingham instead of with us. Imagine how squashed we all would be right now were she or your sister here.”

What Georgiana failed to mention was that she had begged her brother to allow the beloved dog to travel inside the carriage, insisting that Miss Wright would be comfortable enough in her father’s coach. Darcy suspected his sister did not much care for the lady.

His original intention had been to invite the Bingleys and Hursts to Strandsmere Park. The more the merrier they say, although he had never shared that opinion. But the whole lot of them were in Scarborough for the summer, which was probably for the best. If Miss Bingley found Netherfield a desolate place, Darcy shuddered to imagine what she would have had to say about Wyman’s Cove. Besides all that, Bingley had been aloof since leaving Hertfordshire and even had the audacity to call him a killjoy.

“Humph!”

“Did you say something, Brother?”

“No, dearest. I was simply clearing my throat.”…and ridding my head of Bingley and his younger sister. If only I could do the same for Miss Elizabeth Bennet and any overhasty impulses regarding Miss Hannah Wright.

Why, oh why, had he extended an invitation to the entire Wright family? He wished he had invited only the youngest daughter, Georgiana’s friend. In addition to that not being appropriate, the girl’s eldest sister had been indefatigable. Miss Wright had worked on him and worked on him, and he had succumbed like a fallen soldier. At the time, surrender had seemed preferable to the woman’s constant complaints about having to endure another summer in town. He suspected that, before leaving London, she had wandered about Harding, Howell & Company inspecting fabric for her wedding clothes. Not that he had made her an offer yet. Nor would he. Will I?

Miss Wright was accomplished and handsome, to be sure. In fact, nature had given the entire family no inconsiderable share of beauty. She and her sisters were superlative horsewomen who loved the countryside but equally enjoyed urbane pursuits. The eldest, proficient on the pianoforte, was a gifted vocalist as well. She appeared to be a good daughter and sister, and the family seemed closely knit. Most importantly of all, since her mother’s untimely death, she had overseen the running of both her father’s country house in Norfolk and a leased house in London. And, like so many other single women, she seemed eager to see Pemberley through the eyes of its mistress.

Truth was, Darcy had spent an inordinate amount of time in the lady’s company. How could he not when all through winter and spring she had surprised him by unexpectedly popping up—like a jack-in-the-box—everywhere he went? Riding in Hyde Park. At the Harrisons’ ball. Vauxhall Gardens. Mrs Hurst’s musicale. The British Museum. The Smiths’ Twelfth Night revelry, et cetera, et cetera. It had happened far too frequently to be mere coincidence. By Jove, ’tis a wonder she did not attempt to gain entrance to White’s or Angelo’s while I found sanctuary at those establishments. The only reprieve he had had from her was a se’nnight spent at Rosings Park in late March.

How had Miss Wright contrived it? Narrowing his eyes, Darcy looked across the carriage at Miss Althea and wondered whether she had gleaned information about his plans from Georgiana and disclosed them to her eldest sister. In whatever manner she had managed it, the society pages had caught wind of an alliance between ‘FD’ and ‘HW’ and reported it in terms of seriousness. Granted, he was attracted to the woman, but he had not yet decided to pay her his addresses. Customarily, Darcy acted with an alertness of mind neither undecided nor dilatory, but he had dilly-dallied regarding Miss Wright throughout the spring.

As an intelligent man of the world, he had enjoyed his freedom. Nearing thirty years of age, the stage of life when a man thinks of settling down, it was time he forgot about a certain unforgettable young woman in Hertfordshire, found a more suitable bride, and started to fill Pemberley’s nursery with handsome, clever little Darcys.

Absence, however, had made his foolish heart grow fonder of Miss Elizabeth, or at least his memory of her. Half a year had passed since he had last been in her company at the Netherfield ball. Still she lingered in his thoughts. Attraction to an unacceptable lady was imprudent, but there was something singular about her. So clever and lively. All brightness. Were she there on the coast, her very presence would dispel the gloom. Her character was fixed in his mind as perfection itself. Except when she attempted to be Wickham’s champion. And her situation in life.

According to his Fitzwilliam relations, station and fortune were of the utmost importance when choosing a spouse. Love played no part whatsoever in the selection process. One merely had to tolerate the person. Lady Catherine pestered him to marry his cousin Anne, which was going to happen only over Darcy’s dead body. In which case, he would be a very disgruntled ghost. Even the colonel, several years his senior, wondered why his cousin had become, in his words, ‘such a grumpy old man’.

While he had been ruminating over all that, the carriage had come to a halt on the sweep in front of Strandsmere Park. This is where I shall make a life-changing decision. Wed Miss Hannah Wright, find someone else, or remain a bachelor. A complete summer in her company would be sufficient time to make up his mind about marrying the woman.

‘As to marriage or celibacy’—either Socrates or Plato had written—‘let a man take which course he will. He will be sure to repent.’

Apparently, I am damned if I do and damned if I do not.

Heiress Tottle, a little white barn cat and excellent mouser that the judge had taken in and given free rein of the villa, wound round Darcy’s legs as he leant against the door-jamb of the villa’s library. Inside the room, Hector, huge head on huge paws, settled at Georgiana’s feet while she and her friend stood at a bookshelf exclaiming over the titles Darcy had bought with the two young ladies in mind.

“Look here.” Georgiana’s hand rested upon two books. “We have Belinda. And Evelina, too.”

Miss Althea squealed when she spotted Sense and Sensibility, then held one of the novel’s volumes against her heart. “Shall we take turns reading it aloud together?”

“Excellent idea, my friend. And thank you, Brother.”

“You are most welcome, little hen.” After gesturing for the girls to sit, he followed suit. A little bell on her collar jingling, Heiress Tottle jumped to the sofa, curled up on Darcy’s lap, and loudly purred. Hector lumbered over to Georgiana, heaved a sigh, and again settled at her feet.

“Now, ladies, both of you must promise that I shall not always find you cooped up here in the library. There is equipment for lawn games and archery. There are cutting gardens and empty vases in need of floral arrangements. The horses will appreciate being exercised, and there will be many opportunities hereabouts for you to observe and admire nature. You brought your paints and whatnot, I trust.” They confirmed that they had. “Then I shall expect a number of lovely watercolours—landscapes, flowers, and such—with which to grace these barren walls.”

Still clutching the treasured volume, Miss Althea asked, “How else may we entertain ourselves, sir?”

A full range of diversions had already been discussed during their travels, but Darcy patiently replied. “The stone steps to the beach have been deemed safe by Mr Ansel, the land steward. So you could walk along the shore each fine day. There may be seashells or fossils to collect, rock-pools to investigate, and passing boats to watch. You might even catch sight of marine mammals—dolphins, porpoises, seals, or whales.”

“I seem to remember Papa mentioning that Uncle Darcy owned a boat here. May we go sailing?”

“Do not excite yourself, my dear, for we do not own a seaworthy vessel. However, there are two punts tied to the dock on Willow Bourn, which serves as the boundary behind both our property and that of the Bakers. Such small boats would be unsafe for the Channel, but we might be able to navigate through the wetland.”

“May we invite our neighbours for a picnic? Mrs Carter informed me that two young ladies have arrived at Cliff House.”

“Ah, one must be the orphaned niece who has come to live with them, but I have no idea who the other lady might be. I made a start on the correspondence awaiting my attention, and the Bakers have invited us to dine when we are settled. I have accepted on behalf of our entire party, so you will be acquainted with them soon and, perhaps, become friends with the two young ladies.”