If only waiting a week might be easy.
∞∞∞
Staffordshire, England – 1812 – Day 6
Another night of snow left the world enveloped in an ever-deepening layer of shining white, beautiful to admire from the comfort of a window, but far less obliging in person. Moving from his bedroom window, Darcy took one long breath as he forced himself to grasp the doorknob.
“One week. Wait one blasted week,” he growled as he turned the knob, the days he would be in Miss Elizabeth’s company stretching before him as blissful agony.
“Mr. Darcy,” a frowning Mr. Thomson noted as they came face to face in the dark hall. “Off to break your fast? And no Miss Elizabeth on your arm? What a pity.”
“I take it you have already been down to the dining room?” Darcy forced, the direction the odious man had been traveling giving that hopeful thought. “Then I suppose I am without your delightful company. A pity.”
“Yes,” he hummed, “though not a pity for Miss Elizabeth, for I have already known the, dare I say, rapture of her company this morning… Enjoy yourself.”
Scowling at Mr. Thomson as he walked away, Darcy shook off the man’s words as best he could.
That man only bought and sold poison–in words alone, yes, but nothing except death ever came from such men.
Death and ruin.
∞∞∞
Waiting in the entry an hour later after enjoying a hearty breakfast and a few minutes conversation with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy admired the various artworks hung upon walls much in need of new plaster. Several landscapes of exceptional quality displayed the nearby countryside to perfection, while to his left the portrait of an attractive young lady stared back at him, her clothes from decades past, though her eyes appeared wholly alive and… familiar.
Not Lady Charmane… given it hung in her house, it ought to remind him of her, but that was not it.Frowning he turned his head toward the sound of footfalls–Bingley fast approaching.Who did the painting remind him of? It was right there… and yet?
“Are you leaving to visit that property you spoke of?” Darcy asked as Bingley donned his great coat.
“I am,” Bingley grinned as he stood beside him, “it sounds as beautiful a place as a man could ask for–good size, southern exposure, enough rooms to host as many guests as you could like, and enough modernizations to equal even the grandest estates.” Eyes widening, he urged, “Do come, Darcy!”
“Doubtless it would be interesting… But I fear I already spoke to Miss Elizabeth and her sisters; we are to go for a sleigh ride. Lady Charmane offered, and we accepted with all alacrity. My cousin, I suppose, must have already agreed to go with you, for he declined the offer and…”
“And he would not easily refuse the offer to enjoy the company of a certain young woman,” Bingley finished. “Yes. Yes. He agreed to go with me, though I could release him from his promise.”
“And have me rest in the knowledge that any poor decision you might consider today may have been averted had I been there? No,” Fitz remarked as he made his way down the hall, “I gave my word, and I shall keep it… however much I may wish for other company.”
“My thanks,” Bingley answered tersely. “Other company indeed.”
“You think the same of me when compared to the company of an attractive lady, with pinked cheeks and a vibrant smile. Were this viewing not necessary, you would be enjoying a sleigh ride with all dispatch. Now then, I am ready, Bingley, are you?”
“I am. Enjoy your outing, Darcy,” Bingley sighed; Fitz lifting his eyes to the ceiling before tugging on his friend’s arm.
“Come. You arranged the time; it would not do to keep the solicitor waiting… every minute might draw the price higher.”
Hastening to the door, Bingley’s calls for speed could be heard as he made his way out into the snow, Fitz laughing as he followed after.
Pulling on his own great coat, Darcy bowed his head as the three Bennet sisters reached his side, the sleigh hopefully awaiting them as scheduled–hot bricks and piles of blankets as well, if the staff were attentive.
“Do you know if the sleigh has arrived?” Darcy asked Mr. Lombart, the butler standing straighter.
“It arrived several minutes ago,” he answered. “Everything required for the ladies’ comfort has been seen to, though if there is anything amiss, please let me know.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lombart, your efforts are much appreciated.” Turning to the ladies he smiled and motioned toward the door, “Are we all set?”
“Wait,” Lord Ramsgate cried as they scampered down the hall, “Lady Charmane only now made mention of your planned outing, I believe there ought to be room for one more.”
If they had but left a moment sooner.
