“A ball. A grand ball! What a glorious thing to hold a ball in my very own residence. The purchase is final you see, the papers signed, legalities taken care of. Not a vast amount of furniture or paintings were a part of the purchase–though I held out on the mirrors, far too fiddly to have dozens of those brought in. In any case, it is well-furnished enough to see everyone comfortable; the staff stayed on, and though I cannot yet speak to their expertise or efficiency personally, Sir Rayburn, who owned the place, claimed they had never faltered in their duties. He, as you may have heard, held many grand balls. It will be a fine thing. Jollier than the simple country Christmas the guests would have here; we could have it set up for Christmas itself if all goes well!”
Shaking his head, Darcy frowned. “That would be rather rude to our host, would it not, to steal her guests away before her house party is even over.”
“I agree,” Fitz chimed in as he took a step toward Bingley. “It is not that it is a horrid idea all around; just that, it ought to wait until after Lady Charmane’s guests are ready to depart. Perhaps if you were to host it directly following this, then the guests could make the short journey from here to there and stay for your ball… even a night or two beyond since a long day of travel after a ball would be rather wearisome.”
Sighing, Bingley said, “I do not know what I was thinking, to be as rude and unfeeling as all that. You are both right. After the house party is over would be far kinder, and better for all. Still, I want you both to join me there, say tomorrow, so we might see what needs to be done–not only for the ball, but for the estate. I fear I know little about running an estate.”
“I expect you shall be a fast learner,” Darcy smiled. “For all your wild enthusiasm, you have a fine head on your shoulders. Time is your best teacher, though for you Bingley, I promise to do all I can to assist. Tomorrow, and as you have need.”
“Thank you, Darcy!” he exclaimed, his chest puffed up as he turned toward Fitz. “And you, shall you come?”
Eyes lifted toward the ceiling, Fitz chuckled, “For you. Only for you, for you know I would much rather stay here with Miss Mary.”
Laying a hand on Fitz’s shoulder he grinned, “I know how much of a favour this is.” Glancing toward Darcy he added, “For both of you! I shan’t forget it.”
“Nor will we let you,” Darcy smirked.
∞∞∞
Letter in hand for Elizabeth’s Uncle, Darcy strode down the dark, gloomy hall from his room.The library? The drawing room? Outside? Hopefully he found his Elizebeth without delay.
At supper the night before they had talked in a sort of code, meandering around words until their meanings were laid plain. From all they had said, she would have her letter ready to post.
If only Bingley’s excitement had not kept him from the dining room that morning, they might have given them to the butler before the post went out. Perhaps they would manage it yet?
Making his way to the library, Darcy smiled as he saw Elizabeth near the entrance to the secret passage; the room empty save her and Miss Wordsworth, who sat near the fire engrossed in a book.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he remarked casually, Miss Wordsworth lifting her head long enough to regard him before returning to the tome. “I just finished a letter, do you have any you should like me to give to Mr. Lombart?”
Pressing a smile down, she nodded. “I do, in fact, I had planned to go in search of him; you have saved me a trip.” Handing him the letter, she dipped her head, “I trust you have had a pleasant morning?”
“Indeed,” he answered awkwardly, his attempt at casual conversation enough to cause him to cringe. “Though I have been pressed into service by my friend–Bingley is in need of my help and my cousin’s.” Meeting her eyes, he hoped she might see what his voice could not tell. “I am loath to leave, but tomorrow morning I must go with them. I am certain it shall take no more than two days, though I should much rather remain here.”
“They are excellent company,” Elizabeth said, a half-hearted smile forming. “We shall all miss the three of you whilst you are away. If the weather holds, perhaps our post will reach their destination by the time you get back? A few days after, you may well have your reply and I mine. That is something to look forward to.”
“That it is,” he replied, his lips pulling in a soft smile as he observed the turn of her face, the fall of the fabric of her white gown, even the movement of her hands as she played with her dress.
Two days would seem a lifetime.
Forcing himself to bid her leave, he pinned his arms to his sides and turned away. Every inclination being to take her in them. To hold her, for as long as he might.
Gripping the letters, he began his search for Mr. Lombart to see them posted.Once they were sent and the response received, they would not have to hide their regard in this manner. Her Uncle would say yes, he had to, and then they could make their plans known to the world! Days. A week. He could wait that long. Surely?
Chapter 24
Staffordshire, England – 1812 – Day 12
That evening, with the guests all gathered in the drawing room, Miss Umbridge having just concluded her aria, Lady Catherine stood before them, calling for silence and their attention.
“I have a fine idea as to entertainment,” she announced, her person all but bouncing in excitement. “Tonight I only mean to set you into pairs, but tomorrow morning, after we have eaten, we are to have a grand game. A list of items to find and clues to lead you to them will be provided to each team–a sort of hunt, if you will.”
Murmurs of excitement from a few of the guests filled the air; a satisfied smirk forming on the Grand Lady.
“In the meantime, we have teams to pair. I will call a name at random, and that person may choose their partner from those not already selected. Are we all agreed? Then excellent, I will begin with Miss Umbridge, in thanks for her splendid aria.”
“I choose Reverend Moore,” Miss Umbridge announced, her face aflame as she glanced toward the man in question.
“Lord Brayburn?” their host asked.
