He blinked.
A slow smile touched his lips. “I see I shall have to be wary of you.”
Elizabeth gave him a sweet, dangerous smile. “I would advise it.”
Mr. Bennet exhaled, sitting back in his chair, regarding her with something resembling satisfaction.
“I could do with a female in the house who dabbles in sarcasm,” he mused, moving his knight again. “My wife is inclined to dramatics, Kitty and Lydia are frivolous, Mary is too busy sermonizing to engage in proper conversation, and Jane—”
His gaze flicked toward his eldest daughter, still seated quietly, her expression pleasant, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“Jane is good. To her very heart of hearts, she is good, but I fear, too sweet and bashful to be of any use to me at all.”
Elizabeth glanced at Jane thoughtfully.
She already liked her. There was something genuine about Jane Bennet, something kind and steady that Elizabeth found easy to appreciate. But this—this easy dismissal by her own father, however affectionate—was disheartening. Almost tragic.
She moved her next piece carefully, her mind lingering not on the game, but on the quiet, lovely girl seated across the room, who deserved far more than to be labeled ‘of no use’.
And Elizabeth, who had never been anyone’s cousin before, suddenly felt quite protective of this particular one.
Chapter Ten
May 16, 1812
Thegardenswerealreadyswarming with guests, their bright summer attire clashing against the expanse of manicured hedges and gravel paths. A violin played somewhere, mingling with the rise and fall of cheerful conversation. Glasses clinked, voices laughed, and every inch of the lawn seemed occupied by people ambling, gossiping, and generally making a nuisance of themselves.
There had been many poor decisions in his life, but agreeing to attend a garden party voluntarily was swiftly climbing the ranks. As the carriage rolled to a stop, Darcy resisted the urge to sigh.
Beside him, Bingley was already stirring, peering out of the window with an expression of untouched enthusiasm, while across from them, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst looked equally unimpressed. A pity they had decided to risk the summer sneezes, after all.
“Well,” Miss Bingley said with a sniff, adjusting her gloves. “If one must endure an afternoon of country society, I suppose a garden party is as tolerable as any other form of drudgery.”
Bingley ignored her entirely, turning a broad grin toward Darcy. “Come, man, at least pretend you are not already regretting this.”
Darcy arched a brow, but before he could retort, the footman opened the door.
Bingley was the first to alight, stepping onto the drive with unshakable cheer, while his sisters followed, the very image of reluctant civility. Darcy took his time, adjusting his coat before stepping down to join them.
Bingley grinned, stepping back and gesturing to the assembled guests. “What do you think? A fine turnout, is it not? Sir William hosts the best garden parties in the county. He rather thinks it his solemn duty to do so. I understand his early roses are exceptional this year.”
Miss Bingley sighed extravagantly. “Yes, how noble of him to gather so many fine gentlemen and so many… eager young ladies.”
Darcy ignored her, his gaze sweeping the crowd absently. He was not here for leisure. A great many respectable families were present—some already seated beneath the white canvas of the refreshments tent, others strolling between rose-laden trellises or pausing to greet acquaintances. The scent of the first summer flowers and lemonade hung thick in the air.
He could already feel a headache forming.
“You look delighted to be here,” Bingley teased.
“I do not recall saying I was.”
“Then why have you come?”
“Perhaps I merely wished to see how much havoc you have caused in my absence.”
Bingley laughed. “Oh, hardly any at all. And if I have, I am certain it has been delightful havoc. Look—Sir William has arranged all manner of amusements—quoits, croquet, and something absurd involving blindfolds, which I refuse to take part in.” He lowered his voice again. “Miss Lydia Bennet seems intent on ensuring I do, however. I may need your assistance in fending her off.”
Darcy arched a brow. “I will not be rescuing you from Miss Lydia, Bingley.”
