Miss Darcy's Beaux

by Eliza Shearer

  Captain Price raised his eyebrow.

  Perhaps not.

  We continued to dance in silence, our steps in perfect synchronicity, my thoughts drifting. I had to admit that Captain Price's courageous heroics hadn't been properly acknowledged by Colonel Fitzwilliam. Whether it was because my cousin had been in shock at the time, or simply because he had taken my saviour to be a social inferior, I dared not guess.

  That one's standing in society should mar the perception of their acts was an injustice. But life was unfair, was it not? I immediately remembered the three street urchins I had seen a few days before. The youngest one, I realised now, must have been Will's age. That one child should enjoy a comfortable life in the beautiful Pemberley surroundings, while the other was suffering the utmost destitution, was nothing short of tragic. My heart ached for the children on the street corner, and I resolved to find them the following morning.

  Before I could speak again to my partner, the dance ended. Captain Price gave me a courteous bow and excused himself to rejoin his party, not before getting my assurances that I would dance with him again.

  I turned to my aunt. I wanted to tell her about my previous encounter with Captain Price, but she silenced me with a look.

  "Almack's is not what it used to be," she said with disgust, addressing Lady Hamilton. "How someone like Captain Price should be admitted, I do not know. I appreciate that some men in his profession become rich and are therefore granted access to certain circles, but I understand that his fortune is far from large."

  "Lady Catherine, I do not credit my ears!" replied her friend with glee. "You do not know? Captain Price is a favourite nephew of Lady Bertram's and comes with glowing recommendations. Lady Bertram is rather a recluse and does not come to London often, preferring to spend most of her time at the family seat of Mansfield Park, but she is a veryintimate friend of two of the current patronesses."

  My aunt looked askance.

  "He may have excellent sponsors, but that does not change the state of his financial affairs."

  "Rumour has it that he has had to bear great injustices and that he may be wealthy one day if they are addressed," added Lady Hamilton lowering her voice.

  I blushed. To hear Captain Price talked about in just terms of wealth and connections was prejudiced, even mean. I knew of his bravery, generosity and kindness towards those in need and I had been in receipt of them all. Surely his actions spoke more of his character than his relations and the money he had made in his profession?

  Lady Hamilton had not finished.

  "He is also a rather well-looking man," she said, winking in my direction. “Quite the hero, with the rugged appearance to match. And he has very good legs, if I may say so. They rather remind me of Lord Hamilton's at his age. Oh, but look, Lord Menzies! I must introduce you, Miss Darcy. Please come along..."

  For the next two hours, I was paraded like a prize cow by my aunt and Lady Hamilton. I was introduced to and danced with two earls, a baronet, a fabulously wealthy plantation owner based in the West Indies who was looking for a wife to join him at the other end of the world, and the youngest son of a marquis. All, bar the plantation owner, had reasonably pleasant manners, but their agreeableness and dancing skills varied considerably, and they all paled in comparison with those of Captain Price.

  Some time later, Captain Price came towards me again to claim the dance I had promised him, but this time my aunt intervened before I could accept.

  "Captain Price, I am afraid my niece will have to decline your application. It is getting rather hot in here, and we need a refreshment."

  The Captain offered to fetch us a drink or to accompany us to get some fresh air, but Lady Catherine stood up and shut him up with a gesture, dragging me with her.

  I blushed at my aunt’s discourtesy. Captain Price did not seem to take too much notice of her rude behaviour, but he did look disappointed. I excused myself, lowering my gaze. Perhaps later, I thought.

  Lady Catherine and I headed to the supper rooms upstairs. The main hall had slowly filled up since our arrival and it was now rather noisy, but away from the musicians, the rooms were relatively quiet. A few patrons were scattered here and there, and on long tables covered by embroidered linens there were platters of dry cake and bread with butter to accompany the tea on offer.

  My aunt made me sit in a corner hidden behind a column, away from the entrance.

  "I cannot believe that, after seeing you in the company of so many men of consequence and wealth, that upstart sailor still feels entitled to ask to dance with you again!" Lady Catherine said in a whisper dripping with disdain. "You danced with him once because he is an acquaintance of some description, but you must make it very clear to him that he must not aspire to win a place in your affections. He is beneath your station."

  I didn't see the Captain as my inferior, certainly not in matters of education or breeding. Perhaps his fortune was small, but he had much to commend him. As Captain Wentworth had said to me, Captain Price was an excellent man, and I no doubt about it. The need to voice my opinion was stronger than my natural reserve.

  "But Lady Hamilton said –"

  "Lady Hamilton is extremely well connected, but she was always a terrible fantasist and cannot resist the lure of hopeless romance. As a result, she is also an abysmal matchmaker, one who delights in putting absurd ideas in young ladies' heads. Forget Captain Price. He will never do."

  I drank my tea with resignation, but when my aunt suggested going downstairs again, I feigned a sudden headache and begged her to take me back to Grosvenor Square. The thought of having to humiliate Captain Price if he asked me again for a dance was too much. I had no right to offend him for causes unrelated to his good character. My aunt mumbled something about the ungratefulness of youth, but I pretended not to hear.

  As we were leaving, I noticed for the first time a gentleman sitting on the other side of the large column. He had strawberry blond hair, a nose too small for his broad face and pale blue eyes. He was observing us with severity, and I wondered if he had overheard our conversation about Captain Price. I felt a wave of shame. Lowering my gaze, and praying that my suspicions were unfounded, I followed my aunt towards the exit.

  Chapter 11

  The following day, right after breakfast, I was in the parlour upstairs, immersed in a reverie of sweet memories from the previous afternoon, when my aunt's lapdog pushed the door open and came towards me, its tiny paws pitter-pattering on the waxed wooden floor. I took the little black fur ball in my arms and twirled with him around the room, whispering in its ears:

  "Captain Price, and, although not as handsome as Don Cosimo, has much to commend him in terms of countenance and disposition, wouldn't you say?"

  The dog gave me a sharp bark as if to remind me that my aunt believed he was not a suitable match. I stroked its silky fur.

  "Don't be so grumpy! Did my brother not marry someone with a much smaller fortune than himself? I too should be able to do it, or at least daydream about it!"

  But even as I was saying these words I knew that it was out of the question that I might follow the same path that Fitzwilliam had so resolutely taken. Oh, the unfairness of my sex!

  Then there was a sudden knock on the door, and the pooch hid under my shawl. It was the footman, who entered with a letter for me on a silver tray. As soon as he left, I went towards the window to inspect the missive. It had been delivered by hand, but I didn't recognise the handwriting. I did, however, notice that the letter was scented with sandalwood.

  I opened it with haste and read:

  My dear Miss D.,

  I have tried to ignore my feelings, but alas, I cannot. My heart still lightens at the memory of our playing together the other night. The joy it brought me I cannot describe, so attuned were our fingers, so together our hearts. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than seeing you again. I plan to visit my clock-maker at 17, South Molton Street tomorrow morning. I will be at the shop at 11 o'clock sharp. Your charming prese
nce, even if just for an instant, would make me the happiest of men. I look forward to seeing your fair countenance again soon, and I know I will not be disappointed.

  Forever your admirer,

  C.

  I had to sit down. My head was spinning. Don Cosimo had put into words what I had sensed during our duet; that he should feel the same was rather extraordinary. As if noticing my confused state, the little dog gave a hollow bark and started licking my hands. I sat it on my lap, absentmindedly stroking its back, and read the letter again.

  This second time, I noticed a hint of discomfort rising from the pit of my stomach. Don Cosimo's plans demanded secrecy, but I had been dragged into deception in the past and did not intend to follow suit again.

  I gently put the lapdog on the floor, stood up and went towards the fireplace with Don Cosimo's letter clutched in my hand. The weather was warmer, but my aunt insisted that no expense should be spared in ensuring the comfort of her Grosvenor Square lodgings, and as a result, the servants kept the fires going in the two drawing rooms as well as the parlour. I watched the flames dance for a few moments, feeling the warmth from the hearth against my skin.

  I knew what I had to do. I could not afford the slightest shadow on my reputation, especially not after my close encounter with danger those years ago. I slowly brought over the scented letter to the flames. My skin was burning now, so close were my fingers to the fire, but with a sigh, I dropped my hand at the last minute. I couldn't bring myself to destroy it. After erasing all trace of Wickham's correspondence, Don Cosimo's note was the only letter of admiration I had left, the only tangible proof that I, too, could command affection. I looked at it with despair. It was like a hot coal against my palm, and too dangerous to have it with me.

  I ran upstairs and hid it at the bottom of the trunk, right next to Captain Price's hip flask, covering it with enough petticoats to dress a small army of ladies.

  I had arranged to collect Mrs Gardiner and the Misses Bennet from Gracechurch Street the ensuing morning. The day was bright, with only the faintest whisper of clouds in the sky, and the sun felt warm against my skin. Kitty was looking out the window when I got to the Gardiners' residence in Cheapside, and she waved in my direction as soon as she saw me, an excited look on her face. I waved back. Moments later, Kitty boarded the barouche with delight, followed by her aunt and sister.

  "It is such a pretty carriage, Miss Darcy! You don't know how blessed you are to own it!"

  "Miss Darcy, I feel obliged to clarify that our uncle's carriage is perfectly adequate, although this one does have a very pleasing shape," added Mary in a rather grandiose tone. "You are fortunate indeed."

  I smiled inwardly. In her eagerness to appear educated, Mary rather reminded me of her cousin, Mr Collins.

  "I thank you, but I must admit that I am not its lucky owner. The barouche is Lady Catherine's".

  At the mention of my aunt's name, Kitty opened her eyes wide, and her posture stiffened. Mary, who had her hand on the inside handle of the door, moved it immediately to her lap. I suspected that the Misses Bennet found the prospect of sitting in Lady Catherine's drawing-room for an hour less than appealing. No wonder that my suggestion to ride into town with them had been so warmly received.

  Mrs Gardiner broke the ensuing silence to discuss Elizabeth's health. She had received a letter from Mrs Bingley the day before assuring her that my sister-in-law was feeling better.

  "Mrs Darcy was always a strong and energetic child, and I am sure she will recover. However, I feel for her. Miss Darcy, you know her and her love of the outdoors. A forced early confinement must be the worst of tortures for her."

  "Life is full of suffering, Aunt,” intervened Mary with a solemn face. “One might say that Lizzy has been spared her share until now, and is just beginning to pay her dues."

  "Mary, really, there is no need to use that language, it is not very becoming in a young lady,” Mrs Gardiner gently reproached her before turning to me. "So, where do you wish us to accompany you today, Miss Darcy?"

  "My maidservant insists that I need new slippers."

  "Well, I know a little shop just a couple of streets from here –"

  Mary and Kitty looked at their aunt with disappointment.

  "Although, of course, there are many more options in town," added Mrs Gardiner. "Perhaps you have one in mind already."

  I bit my bottom lip. I thought of Don Cosimo's green eyes and my insides trembled. Surely there could be no harm in observing him from a distance? He didn't have to see me.

  "I have been told that there is a good establishment in South Molton Street."

  "Indeed, I know just the one. It has a beautiful assortment of all sorts of wares. Mary, Kitty, you do not require anything just now, do you?"

  The Misses Bennet immediately started to speak at the same time, explaining their need for new ribbons and disagreeing as to whose gowns and bonnets required the most attention. Mary deftly justified her want for adornment as selfless consideration towards others in wanting to appear neatly dressed, but Kitty's impassionated defence of the appalling state of her wardrobe was winning. I made the most of the confusion to look out of the carriage window and enjoy a view of the buzzing streets.

  As we turned yet another corner, I suddenly remembered the orphans. I had forgotten about them in spite of my resolve; I should be ashamed. I put my hand in my reticule. I had some coins with me. I would order the driver to stop as soon as I saw the unfortunate children; Mrs Gardiner's pious heart would not object to me giving them some alms. I stretched my neck to look for the urchins amongst the crowds, but the path we followed was new, and I did not recognise any landmarks until we were within walking distance of our destination. I told myself that perhaps we would see them on the way back, and the prospect comforted me.

  South Molton Street was very busy. The coachman left us at the Oxford Street corner, and I asked him to pick us up an hour later. The clock of a church spire rising above the roofs informed me that it was almost half past ten. Walking gingerly, the only way it was possible in the company of excitable Kitty, we went into the shop Mrs Gardiner had mentioned.

  I perused the varied array of slippers on display and quickly chose four pairs in assorted colours. Jones would be pleased. As the Misses Bennet were deciding which items to buy, I looked outside. Across from the shop there were a number of establishments designed to appeal to the well-heeled. One in particular immediately caught my eye. It was a clock-maker, with a big golden sign over the door announcing the trade and a large cuckoo clock on the shop window.

  I narrowed my eyes. There was a number 17 painted in gold leaf above the door. My heart began to pound louder and louder. I took a deep breath.

  Will he come? And if he does, will I be brave enough to make my presence known?

  I thought of the possible consequences of the encounter. Even if word got out that I had met Don Cosimo, no one would question that I should run into him on South Molton Street. He was, after all, a man of taste and consequence, and the shops in the area catered to the aristocracy as well as the gentry. Nevertheless, my hands were slightly trembling when Kitty joined me.

  "What are you observing with so much interest, Miss Darcy? Oh, I see! What a delightful cuckoo clock! I love cuckoo clocks. What time is it?"

  I checked the church spire and felt a jolt inside.

  "It's five minutes until 11 o'clock."

  "Aunt, Mary, hurry up! There's a cuckoo clock across the road we must go and see! It will go off in five minutes!"

  Mary, who still hadn't selected her ribbons, grumbled but followed suit, and we all stepped out of the shop and headed towards the clock-maker, just a few yards away, ostensibly in order to humour Kitty.

  My heart was now as loud as a canon, and I wondered why nobody else seemed to hear it.

  The shop had the widest glass panel I had ever seen. On the other side, a thousand beautiful objects veered for the attention of the passers-by, but without a doubt, the cuckoo clock was th
e display centrepiece. It was a work of wonder, an exquisite alpine-style house with little tables and miniature patrons enjoying a happy drink in the sun. Just outside the delightful wooden building, a brass band was playing, their tiny instruments perfect replicas of their normal-sized counterparts.

  Discreetly, I observed the dark shades inside the shop, just visible from outside, but I couldn't distinguish much more than vague silhouettes.

  We heard the church bells first and then the clock started to chime. With the last ding, the tiny band began to play a merry tune, the doors and windows of the little building opened, and out came four pairs of tiny wooden dancers, spinning around the house and its balcony.

  Kitty and Mary let out cries of delight at the spectacle, but I wasn't looking at the clock anymore. My sight was fixed on a pair of eyes behind the glass. Almond-shaped eyes with dark eyelashes, just like Wickham's.

  I felt a surge of joy mixed with fear in my veins.

  Don Cosimo smiled and immediately came out of the shop.

  "Miss Darcy, what a surprise to see you!" he cried with the grandest of gestures. "I trust you are in good health?"

  I replied that I was, and answered his civil questions as to the wellbeing of my aunt. Then, he lowered his voice so that only I could hear it.

  "You make me the happiest of men by coming to find me today," he whispered. "Allow me to believe that you derive as much pleasure from seeing me as I do you."

  My chest trembled.

  Mrs Gardiner and the Misses Bennet had lost all interest in the cuckoo clock and were looking at me and the prince expectantly. A conversation longer than a few minutes would raise their suspicions.

  "I am afraid I must go," I muttered.

  "When will I see you again? I beg you, give me an answer."

  "Are you invited to Lady Dalrymple's ball next Friday?"

  "I am, indeed. But it is still many days away. Your aunt is hosting a dinner on Monday, is she not?"

  He smiled, giving me a knowing look. Then, he bowed most gallantly, turned around to nod in the direction of my companions, and went back into the shop.