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The Stench of Trade

Page 93

by Gruinard

Elizabeth and the Duke spoke for the rest of the dance but she had no recollection of any of the conversation. The Colonel was the cousin of Mr. Darcy and Lady Maria had made no mention of it.

The next morning after the breakfast dishes were cleared the four ladies remained at the dining table.

“Will you share your notes from yesterday evening Elizabeth?”

“Of course. I am confused by the words of most of my partners. Seven of the nine gentlemen were typical society gentlemen, there was a script to be followed in the conversation between dance partners. However, five of the gentlemen also spent a large part of the time extolling themselves.”

“Extolling themselves? What do you mean?”

“Bluntly put they were bragging, highlighting their titles, estates, their overall consequence. It was not subtly done at all, and I am at a loss to explain it.”

“Elizabeth, you danced with the Duke. As you said to him in this very house before the dance, the premier Lord in attendance. The other gentlemen were trying to present themselves in as favourable light as possible.”

“Oh!”

“You and the Colonel seemed engrossed during your dance.”

“We were. The discussion of Cuidad Rodrigo distracted us both.”

“And supper?”

Elizabeth looked at Lady Maria.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam is not only an amiable gentleman and a perfect partner on the dancefloor, he is also a brave soldier. My understanding is that he has been wounded twice, although he makes no reference to it himself. But yes, he is also no different than any other gentleman, unable to hide his surprise at even an hour of intelligent conversation with a lady. His other qualities are excellent. I will be happy to dance with him or have him as my neighbour at a dinner table. He has no title, is only the second son, but he has courage and bravery.

“What he also has is a cousin. One with whom I am already acquainted. Was this to be a surprise for my birthday?”

“The Duke?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Unintentionally. He recognised the family name and mentioned the Earldom in passing. When I thought back over our conversations I recalled that you had told me Mr. Darcy’s first name. That it was the same as the Colonel’s family name, well I should have made the connection, or asked the question, sooner.”

“I had been hoping that the two of you could meet without any interference from myself. But rather frustratingly, the two of you have managed to accept different invitations which occur at the same time. Or he is out and you are home, and vice versa.”

“You are not trying to match me with Mr. Darcy?”

“I was wanting you to meet someone who you could claim a prior connection.”

Elizabeth noted that was an answer, but not of the question asked.

Chapter 20

Fitzwilliam Darcy had attended different events to Elizabeth yet in substance they were identical. Lady Matlock had rather bullied him into attending some of the events, and his ears were still ringing from her admonitions to dance and not ‘skulk about in the dark corners’. So he had done his duty. He refused to dance the first set, too scared of creating expectations, but he partnered eight young ladies for the other sets. Little did he know but his thoughts were very similar to Elizabeth’s. There was no depth to any of the conversations, the tight confines of society’s script made the young ladies come across as boring.

It was early in the morning, half a day before the fashionable hours, and Darcy was striding down the paths of Hyde Park. It was already well into February, he had made an effort to be social. Not just on account of his aunt’s scoldings but on his own initiative as well, as per his explanation to his sister on their journey the previous month. But there had been no spark. Alone without anyone to overhear him he snorted out loud. The ladies he had been introduced to, had renewed acquaintance, and had danced with were nothing but a collection of green wood in a rain storm. A spark was not going to ignite any romance with that sodden lot.

He did not even expect romance, just any kind of connection would be a pleasant surprise. Was it too much to expect? His breath hung in the air as he huffed a loud sigh in the cold winter morning. He stifled a smile, he would end up on the stage if he continued to be so melodramatic. He was not afraid of hard work, and searching for a bride appeared to be such toil. As he turned for home he squared his shoulders, he would find someone.

He hoped.

Three nights later the Countess of Matlock finally managed to dragoon her family together for a dinner. It was to be just the Earl and herself, their two sons, and Darcy and his sister. A small intimate family dinner. The three bachelors should have expected a trap but only realised their mistake after all were assembled, when it was too late to escape. Dinner was relaxed, fun, full of family tales, no different than so many before. But then.

“We will not be separating this evening. Georgiana and I will move down to the end of the table if you wish to smoke cigars, far enough away to escape the worst of the fumes, but not so far that we have to shout.”

There had been several questions during the meal as to why they were in the more formal dining room, with a table far too large for a family party of six. There were glances amongst the gentlemen.

“Bring the port or brandy to the table. Georgiana, you may join me in a small sherry should you wish.”