Turning at the tinkling laugh of a young lady, Darcy stopped midstep.
Exquisite.
“Oh, very well. Stay close though; and that goes for all of you,” the young woman grinned down at four children who moved impatiently from foot to foot as she slowly held out a bag. “Here, take a handful each, and remember, geese are not always nice.”
Her reticule dropping as she saw them off, Darcy gave a quick glance toward his sisters who now sat safely under a nearby tree.He could afford to take a few moments to assist. Surely?
Bending to retrieve her reticule, Darcy’s face warmed as he turned his gaze upward, the bright, expressive eyes which met his mesmerizing.
Gulping, he held out her reticule as he stood, “Here. I believe this is yours.”
“Thank you,” she smiled, her gaze moving from her cousins to the bag he held, “I fear my family leaves me feeling rather like a pet mouse in a maze. I know where I am supposed to end my journey and enjoy the endeavor but am at a loss as to where I am most of the time.”
“I expect most families provide that sensation,” he answered as she accepted her reticule, gloved hands meeting for but one world shifting moment. “Though I am glad it has led you here.”
Her eyes widening at his words, he half wished he might take them back, save the expression of surprise proved nearly as delightful as the joy he had earlier witnessed.
“Cathy! Georgie!” the exuberant tone of his cousin called, followed by the reserved voices of his aunt and uncle.
“Where is your brother? He has not begun to let you roam about the city unaccompanied?”
Of all the horrid timing.
Bowing lightly to the young woman, Darcy’s lips pulled downward. “Perhaps we might happen upon one another again?” he questioned; the presence of the young lady already entering the conversation of his family behind him.
Shaking her head, she gave a small frown. “I am afraid not. I return home on the morrow, and am unlikely to return again this year. Still, I thank you for your service and conversation, however brief; it has been a welcome reprieve.”
“That it has,” he agreed.
Motioning behind him she smirked, “It seems your family is quite concerned for your wellbeing, sir. And I must see to my cousins; when it comes to birds sometimes they lose all sense.”
Another bow and he smiled, “Then we both must try to find the maze’s end. Family confusion or not.”
Dipping her head she laughed, “Definitely confusion. Take care.”
“And you,” he hurried as she began to leave, the voices of his family growing louder as he turned to face them, “My apologies for keeping you. Shall we take a turn about the park?”
∞∞∞
Near a fortnight after their day at the park, he and his cousin were to attend what would be Darcy’s first London ball since his brief stay with the Matlocks many years prior. Thus far, in his rare interactions with members of the Ton, his reception had been cordial, though brief. Whether that cordiality came from their not sharing the views of Lady Catherine, or from not being aware of the gossip and history surrounding his family, would be displayed in a matter of moments, the doors of the grand house before him laid wide as he and his cousin strode inside.
Gulping, Darcy discreetly rubbed his hands upon his clothes before shaking his head.Why should he worry? Because of Aunt Catherine? With his wealth and connections, his property and lineage, he had no reason to fear entering the world of the Ton. None whatsoever.
The usual greeting of their hosts, a short walk to the ballroom, and he and his cousin were met with an overfilled room and the glow of near as many candles.No expense or guest had been left wanting. Hopefully that lack of restraint had not been the reason for his invitation. He would rather it be due to a matchmaking mamma than that.
Gazing about the room with its dazzling mirrors, gilded, as with the decorative elements of the ceiling and walls, Fitzwilliam recalled his own reassurances mere minutes prior.He belonged. It was obvious. Everyone in the room possessed wealth or title–rarely both–and he certainly held the former well in hand. The latter, well, a titled uncle did not hurt matters. Yes, this would be the world he and his sisters would belong to; a far more opulent world than the one he and his father had known across the sea.
Striding with head held high into the center of the bustle, his cousin hot on his heels, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy surveyed his domain and the myriad of fine countenanced ladies who gracefully glided as they walked.A pity that ‘Lizzy’ had departed London, her fine eyes and wit would be a welcome addition.
If only he knew her full name. If he had he… well, it was best not to think of what might have been, surely. He had better think on how he might make this night a success. To clear the way for his sisters in a few years' time.
“Are any of your family to attend?” Darcy asked as he came to stand far enough from the dancers to talk yet near enough to observe, the beguiling miss he thought of pushed forcibly to the back of his mind.
“No,” Fitz frowned, “they are not.”
Turning toward his cousin, his eyes narrowed.Fitz had been far from pleased from the moment he had entered the newly purchased Darcy carriage. An oddity given the man’s enjoyment of nearly every social situation. When he had been to England last, Fitz had been alight when a ball with fine food and dancing were on the agenda. Could the years have altered him so greatly?
Surely not.
