My eyes darted about the room, taking in the elegant dresses and tailored coats that mingled and spun in time to the music. So many gentlemen, and half of them single, but which to choose? Charlotte leaned heavily on my arm, the exertion of the stairs taxing her fragile health. Yet her eyes shone with hope.
“Go, enjoy yourself,” she urged. “It is doubtful there is anyone here who… well. I shall rest awhile.”
I kissed her cheek. “This is but one of many parties. Your moment will come.”
Charlotte nodded. “I know.”
Squaring my shoulders, I plunged into the sea of silks and satins, determined to orchestrate a meeting beneath the mistletoe before this night was through. The dinner bell chimed, and the guests drifted to the dining hall, each gentleman holding out his arm for a lady. I evaluated each man with a critical eye. Mr. Pennington? Too old and inflexible. Mr. Saunders? Excellent figure but too much of an incorrigible flirt; not ideal for Charlotte’s gentle nature. Mr. Watson? Handsome enough, but far too bashful—it was clear from his aloofness that he had no interest in making merry this evening.
Mr. Worthington seemed a promising prospect with his thick curls and broad shoulders, but he had his eye fixed on Jane.Thatwould not do—I would have to find some distraction to keep the gentleman’s fancies in line with my intentions.
My gaze settled on the last gentleman at the table: Mr. Van der Meer, whose bright eyes twinkled with laughter as he bent to listen attentively to something my uncle said. Well… why not? It was just a kiss—no more than a silly tradition, and Charlotte had already confessed that he was kind. She must like him at least alittle. I nodded at Charlotte and looked pointedly at Mr. Van der Meer... and she shook her head.
How could she not want him? It seemed every woman in the room, even the married ones, were drawn to his handsome features and amiable bearing. Perhaps he intimidated her.
I could certainly understand why—the man had the looks of Adonis, the pockets of Croesus, and the golden personality of Hermes. All he lacked was a spark of cynicism to make him interesting. And to be honest... such a man probably had a long line of females clamoring for his attention. Charlotte might be the steadiest, wisest friend I would ever have, but what hope had she with such a man? I sighed and set my sights on Mr. Worthington for her.
As we made our way to the drawing room after dinner, I steered Charlotte toward Mr. Worthington near the mistletoe in the hall. Here was my chance to make sure this special evening wouldn’t conclude without a bit of holiday cheer. Hope swelled within me as I saw them close together beneath the mistletoe’s enchanting boughs.
“Mr. Worthington!” I called. “It is a fine evening, is it not?”
He blinked at me. “Oh! Indeed, Miss Bennet.”
I beamed. “Have you met my dear friend, Miss Lucas? I believe you were at opposite ends of the table during dinner.”
He turned, smiling warmly. “I have not yet had the pleasure.”
Perfect! Mr. Worthington stepped closer as I said, “She is visiting from Hertfordshire. Daughter of a Knight of Bath, as it happens.”
“Indeed! Perhaps I know him. Miss Lucas, may I offer to...” Just then, a raucous burst of laughter erupted from the other side of the room. Mr. Worthington glanced over, distracted. “Oh! Gardiner is speaking of silk imports. I did wish to have a word with him about that. Do excuse me a moment, ladies.”
He hurried away before I could stop him. Charlotte sighed.
“Perhaps it is for the best,” she mumbled. “I would not wish to force his attentions.”
“Nonsense! Come, let us find you another gentleman more worthy of your time.”
We circled the room—decked with berry-laden sprigs in every corner, thanks to my thoughtful aunt—but near every mistletoe, some obstacle arose. Someone bumped into my uncle’s manservant, and he spilled wine on one gentleman’s coat just as he approached. Another strayed away in search of refreshments just as we moved toward him. Still another was staring at Jane as if hopingshewould wander under the bough. Each time I thought I had secured a fair prospect for Charlotte, it slipped maddeningly through my fingers.
As the night wore on, Charlotte’s spirits sank lower and lower. “Oh, it is no use, Lizzy,” she whispered in my ear. “I probably look as wonderful as I feel, and what is more, it is far too crowded in here for stolen kisses. It would just seem strange. I think I will retire as early as I may.”
“Perhaps if you rested a little.” I led her to the sofa and brought a drink back for her. But she was right, and the rest of the evening passed without a single opportunity to sneak a little indiscretion under the branches.
I refused to surrender hope, though. I would yet fulfill her wish if I had to tie the man to her myself!
19 December
“Whocanthatbeso early in the morning?” Jane wondered aloud, as a distinct knock interrupted our breakfast chatter.
Mr. Gardiner’s manservant entered the dining room a moment later, presenting a cream-colored envelope, clearly marked with Mr. Bingley’s seal in red wax. I sat back with a smug grin and watched Jane turn pink.
Jane exchanged a surprised glance with me as Aunt Gardiner reached out for the envelope. “From Mr. Bingley? Whatever could this be?”
Uncle Gardiner read the note, his eyebrows rising with each word. “An invitation to a Christmas gathering at Mr. Bingley’s townhouse. And it’s tomorrow.”
My spoon paused mid-air.“Tomorrow?”I asked, incredulous.
“I can hardly believe it,” Jane murmured. “He invited all of us?”
