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He Taught Me to Hope

Page 51

by P.O. Dixon

“No, my brother says I must wait until my coming out.”

Elizabeth could hardly be surprised by that particular declaration. During the past weeks, she often had chided Mr. Darcy on his tendency to arrange things for his own convenience. “You are nearly eighteen. When is your coming out?”

“Next Season!” Georgiana eagerly exclaimed. “I can hardly bear to wait. It is my greatest wish that you will be here to share it with me.”

“It is difficult to predict with any certitude where Ben and I might be this time next year, Georgiana,” Elizabeth spoke wistfully.

“Are you quite certain of that Elizabeth? I am sure my brother might have something entirely different to say on that topic. Ben, too, for that matter,” Georgiana expressed with some confidence.

“It is complicated, Georgiana.” Endeavouring to steer the conversation towards innocuous grounds, Elizabeth said, “Speaking of Ben, where is he? Is he with Mrs. Annesley?”

“No, he is out with my brother. He also called whilst you were out. He had hoped to accompany us to an exhibition this afternoon.”

Elizabeth thought of all Darcy had done to see to their entertainment of late. Not a day went by that he did not call on them to accompany them to the park, a museum, or even outings to one of Georgiana’s many favourite shops. Elizabeth marvelled at how his attention towards Ben and her, equalled that towards his sister. It seemed there was nothing he did not do himself to see to their pleasure. He was always on hand to share a bedtime story with Ben before tucking him in, and he often stayed to enjoy a late dinner with Georgiana and her.

“Will your brother dine at your aunt and uncle’s home this evening, as well?” Elizabeth asked. She hoped.

Georgiana imparted a knowing smile. “I do not imagine he would miss it for the world, especially given you will be there.”

Darcy and Ben had just finished their third game of chess. Ben was disheartened. He made no attempt to hide his dismay. He had yet to best his older friend, after so many attempts.

Darcy brushed the unruly curls atop his young friend’s head. “Do not look so discouraged, Ben. Surely, you cannot expect to excel at the game when you have only been introduced over the past week.”

“I am terribly frustrated when, try as I might, you always gain the upper hand.”

“You would not want to win because I simply allowed you to, now would you? What would be the fun in that?”

“I believe it would be good fun regardless, as long as I should win,” Ben expressed truthfully.

“Then, I encourage you to practise. You will never be truly accomplished, unless you practise,” Darcy uttered the words reminiscent of his aunt, Lady Catherine, before he realised what he was saying. “Practise every chance you find. A brave knight such as yourself is sure to master this game in due time.

Ben, who had been slumping in the chair opposite his friend, sat up straight upon taking in those words. “I will do as you say. I will practise each and every day, and very soon it will be me who yells ‘Checkmate’! Will that not be fun for a change?”

“I eagerly await the day, young sir,” Darcy assured him.

Ben looked at Darcy intently for a long moment. “Will we always be together?”

“I believe we shall,” Darcy said, “in one way or another. I promise I will do everything within my power to make it so.”

Darcy stood from his chair and stretched his long legs. Ben mirrored Darcy. “Now let us return to Miss Georgiana’s home. Your mother will have returned by now, and is probably wondering where you are. We must not give her any cause to worry about you.”

From time to time, Darcy was obliged to be seen amongst society. It was expected, after all, of young men of his station. Growing more confident with each passing day that it was merely a matter of time before he would persuade Elizabeth to put her own interests before all else and accept his hand, he generally was amenable to an occasional appearance at private dinner parties, the theatre, and a private ball or two. Besides, it would give rise to the perception he was still on the market, and thus temper any speculations he enjoyed a secret engagement, or worse, a scandalous affair with the beautiful young widow who resided in his sister’s home.

A heightened measure of anticipation he normally did not suffer with the prospect of an evening amongst society, engrossed him that night. It was not that he was to dine with the Matlocks, but rather, Elizabeth would be there. For the first time in their acquaintance, he would be able to engage her amongst those he considered his equal in consequence.

Darcy arrived at Lord and Lady Matlocks’ home in time enough to espy his uncle escorting Elizabeth from the room, arm in arm. Knowing his uncle as he did, he fretted that they had not returned after a quarter-hour had passed. He set off to locate them and rescue Elizabeth from what he by now suspected to be a verbal skirmishing.

Darcy was too late in seeing the path he had chosen would lead him directly past Caroline. What on earth am I to do now? He had no one to blame but himself. He wanted to kick himself, for it was at his insistence some years ago that the Bingleys were even received by the Matlocks. His cousin excluded, the Fitzwilliams were a proud lot, not known to associate easily with those who had ties to trade. Ever since his ultimatum to his aunt and uncle to receive the Bingleys or risk alienating him, it seemed he could not go anywhere that Caroline did not also go. It was as though his aunt was punishing him, for she seemed to delight in Caroline’s antics to ensnare him and his desperate attempts to avoid being snared by anyone, especially Caroline.

Caroline’s eyes were trained directly upon him from the moment he entered the room. Timing his imminent approach, she placed herself directly in his path. “Is it true what I hear, Mr. Darcy? Is Eliza Carlton living with your dearest sister? Moreover, is it true she has a son?” She was standing much too close to him, for his taste. All attempts on Darcy’s part to put a respectable distance between the two of them were in vain.

“Mrs. Carlton is a guest in my sister’s home, and yes, she has a young son.”

“How very interesting!” Caroline raised her fan to her face. “Rumour has it she is something more than a friend of your dear sister,” she purred.

“Of what concern is any of this to you, Miss Bingley?” He spoke in a cool tone meant to discourage her from any attempt to disparage Elizabeth.

“Seeing how you practically threw me out of your home the evening she arrived, I would say this is a matter of great concern to me. You treated me abominably. Have I not always been welcome in your home, Mr. Darcy?”