by Leenie Brown
“You have not called at Darcy House in two weeks as of tomorrow.” Lady Margaret gave him a disapproving look.
“I have no intention of calling.” He turned his attention back to the dancing. Georgiana was so light on her feet.
“Are you set on that Parkes girl then?” Lady Margaret asked.
“No.” He spared her a brief look – long enough to see that her expression had not softened. “There is nothing to fear,” he added.
She continued to look at him with that stern expression for a full minute before turning to Anne. “Where is your husband?”
“Speaking with Darcy.”
She huffed. “He should be here. With you. I feel a need for Mr. Ralston to take me for a turn around the garden, but we cannot leave you unattended.”
“I will be required to claim my partner as soon as this set is finished,” Jack said.
“Then sit here,” Lady Margaret demanded, motioning to the chair next to her with her head.
Jack remained where he was until she lifted a brow and her scowl deepened. Then, with a sigh, he acquiesced and sat.
“I like very much that you do not bow to my every whim,” she began, “but know that there is a limit, Mr. Ralston.”
“I will make a note of that,” he replied.
“You do not wish to marry Miss Parkes?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“And my granddaughter ?”
Jack drew and released a breath.
“I will take that as an affirmative.”
Jack nodded.
“Then why have you not called?”
Jack looked around her to Anne. “That is per your other granddaughter’s suggestion.”
Lady Margaret looked at Anne in surprise.
“He is not following the plan as I prescribed,” Anne muttered behind her fan.
“Someone needs to explain to me why I must spend my few remaining days fretting that my youngest granddaughter will marry that…” she clamped her lips closed as if she had reconsidered what she was about to say and deemed it not appropriate. Lifting her chin, she concluded, “Mr. Tibbett.”
“If you call on me tomorrow, I can explain,” Anne assured her.
“I would rather be at Darcy House entertaining Mr. Ralston.” She shot Jack a displeased look and shook her head. “She has not told me a thing, but she is not happy.”
Jack held up his hands in a plea of innocence as she skewered him again with a most severe look.
“Please tell me you are at least going to dance with her?” Lady Margaret whispered as the music faded to a close.
“The next set,” he said with a smile.
“You did not tell me!” Anne cried.
If she were not smiling, he might have thought her truly cross, but her delight was evident in both her smile and the sparkle in her eye. “It is such a treat to surprise you, Mrs. Pratt. How could I tell you and miss out on such pleasure?” He rose and straightened his jacket. “I will make my way across to where she is standing with her brother and his wife if that is acceptable to you ladies, and I will do my part to let her know she should consider me along with Mr. Tibbett.” He gave them a small bow and took his leave.
“I do love a bit of a scamp.” He heard Lady Margaret say as he walked away.
The appellation brought a smile to his lips. His mother had used that word to describe him since he was in leading strings. His curiosity and love for adventure had helped him earn the title of mischief-making scamp, and he had missed the exhilaration that came from teasing and charming – which is what his mischief-making had grown into as he aged. He had spent much of every season, up until last year, laughing and having a grand time at these soirees. He was not a rake. However, he did like to see a lady smile and giggle, and he was not above sneaking a quick kiss in a dark corner should the opportunity arise. However, that is where his fun stopped. He had no desire to be forced into marriage until he was well and truly besotted with the lady. He sighed. Much as he was with Miss Georgiana Darcy. However, he would not compromise her for all the gold in England. It was his desire to be allowed to court her, which had led him to put away his less serious nature. He smiled. Well as much as such a nature could be put away. It was always there. Lying just below the surface with a ready quip. But he had attempted to act the part of a properly proper gent to win Mr. Darcy’s approval.
Now, having given up his plan to win Georgiana through being ever present, he had slipped quite handily back into his playfulness. Miss Parkes had suggested it. She had mentioned how he had been quite irresistible to many young debutantes for the very reason that he was always ready with a smile and a laugh. Surely, Miss Darcy was not so different from the other ladies that wore debutante white and hoped to be courted by a winsome gentleman, she had said. She had also assured him that it would make Miss Darcy miss him more if he were not so dull as every other gentleman who was attempting to be a proper suitor.
“Miss Darcy,” he said with a bow. “I do believe the next set is ours. Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy,” he acknowledged each of them with a bow of his head.
“I have not had you in my drawing room in some time,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
He chuckled. “Do you miss me?”
“You are far more entertaining than some of the callers we have had.” Elizabeth laughed lightly.
“Ah, the court jester.” Jack placed his hand on his heart as if wounded and sighed, causing Elizabeth to continue laughing.
“I assure you, you are missed,” she replied. “It is always pleasant to have a call from a friend.”
“Indeed, it is,” Georgiana agreed.
Friend. There was that word again.
“Ah,” Jack replied, “but is it not better to have chairs available to those who might be more than friends? Is that not the purpose of the season?”
Darcy chuckled. “I would rather that all the chairs be filled with horrible old matrons rather than young hopeful swains, but your presence I might not abhor.”
“Unless I was a young hopeful swain?” Jack knew it was rather bold to ask it, but he did wish to know Mr. Darcy’s opinion of him.
The man tipped his head and rubbed his chin as he considered Jack. He shook his head and then with a shrug and a look of surprise said, “No, you, I could tolerate even as a young hopeful swain.”
“I shall keep that in mind,” Jack assured him. There was something interesting about the way Mr. Darcy’s lips curved up slightly into a contained smile. Did the man suspect more than Jack thought?
The musicians had taken up their instruments, and couples were gathering on the floor.
“We should take our places.” He extended his arm to Georgiana and gave a parting bow of his head to her brother and his wife.
“I should like it if you called,” Georgiana said as they made their way to where the others were lining up.
“As a friend or a suitor?”
Georgiana blinked, and her steps faltered. “I am not certain I understand your question.”
“Your sister wishes me to call as a friend, and your brother has given me leave to call as a suitor. I was just wondering which you would prefer.”
She blinked again, and her brows drew together as she took her place across from him. “Would you call as either?” Her voice was filled with incredulity as if the concept of him as a suitor was a completely new thought to her.
“I would prefer one over the other,” he said as the music began. “However,” he said as they touched hands and began their figures, “it is not my preference that matters.”
Georgiana’s mouth formed an o, and her eyes widened the tiniest amount. Anne and Lady Margaret would be pleased to know he had presented himself as an option and so boldly.
He and Georgiana wove their way in, out, and around the other dancers as well as down and back up the line but spoke not a word. Jack enjoyed watching the various perplexed expressions that crossed Georgiana’s face each time they joined hands. Finally, the music fade
d, the steps had all been completed, and it was time to form the next line.
“What of Miss Parkes?” Georgiana asked in a whisper.
“She is a friend,” he answered.
“Are you not courting her?”
“No,” he replied honestly.
Again, her lovely lips formed an o while her brows drew together. “Does she know?” The question was asked almost too softly to be heard, and the look of agony on Georgiana’s face which accompanied it was nearly his undoing.
“Of course,” he replied quickly as the music began. Thankfully, her expression relaxed, though her brows remained drawn together slightly until the dancing had begun in earnest. He could not watch her contemplations without his heart pinching. It was perhaps the longest dance he had ever endured.
Finally, after what had felt like an interminably long period of time, they stopped, clapped, bowed, and curtsied.
“Are you certain she knows?” Georgiana asked as she placed her hand on his arm.
“Yes.”
They took three silent steps toward the edge of the ballroom.
“Do you think me a cad?” Jack asked in a whisper. There could be no other reason for her questioning. She must think him capable of playing with the affections of a lady. The thought not only stung, it angered him. He thought that she would know him better than that. Had he not shown himself to be anything other than a true friend for the entirety of their acquaintance?
“I do not know what to think. I have…” her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “No, of course, you are not.”
She was forcing a smile to her lips, but it was not reaching her eyes. Jack expelled a breath in a whoosh. She did not trust him. “It is perhaps better if I do not call then,” he murmured as they drew near to where her brother and Mrs. Darcy were standing. “I thank you for the dance,” he said a bit more loudly. “I will not importune you again,” he added in a whisper. Then with a quick bow to both her and her family, he turned and left her, the room, and the building, for a gentleman should not be in company when his heart was breaking.
Chapter 7
“What have you done to our poor Mr. Ralston?” Elizabeth asked as they watched him make his way with a fair bit of haste toward the exit. He paused to speak with Miss Parkes and only waved to Alistair but did not join his friend.
Georgiana shook her head. “I do not know.” She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. The ache in her heart as she watched the now empty doorway where he had been just a moment before was threatening to come spilling out of her eyes. She did not know precisely how she had done it, but she knew that whatever she had said or done had hurt Jack. “I would like to visit the retiring room. Brother, would you inform Mr. Tibbett that I will return? He was to have the next set.”
She needed a moment to collect herself if she was going to be able to speak with Mr. Tibbett and smile as she danced, although she was not even certain that it was possible to pretend such lightness when one’s heart hurt as hers did. Her brother was looking at her in that wary fashion that always meant he was not sure she was telling him everything he wished to know, but at present, there was no more she could say to him without becoming a watering pot and creating a scene. “Please?” she whispered.
“Are you well?” Darcy asked equally as quietly. “We can leave if you are not.”
Georgiana shook her head. “I do not need to leave.” She wanted to leave — to run from the room, down the steps, and out into the coolness of the night to catch Jack and apologize for whatever it was she had done to injure him.
“Your brother will be disappointed,” Elizabeth whispered as she put her arm around Georgiana’s shoulders. “He would love nothing better than to have an excuse to escape.”
Georgiana giggled in spite of the ache in her heart.
“Come. We will both refresh ourselves.” Elizabeth linked her arm with Georgiana’s. “And you can tell me why you look on the verge of tears.” She leaned her head closer. “But only if it will not cause you to cry. We do not wish for red eyes and a swollen nose.”
Georgiana gave Elizabeth’s arm a grateful squeeze. They walked quietly down the hall, past the open door to the card room, and finally, after passing a sofa which stood across the hall from a narrow table laden with flowers beneath a large gilded mirror, they turned into the room that had been designated for the use of the ladies.
The whole time they walked, Georgiana replayed her conversation with Jack. He had teased about wishing to court her. She had asked about Miss Parkes, and then… Oh, that must be it! His question about her thinking him a cad and the pain that had been in his tone when he asked it repeated itself. Why had she questioned whether he was telling her the truth or not? He was Jack. He was not Mr. Wickham.
“How will I ever learn to trust a gentleman?” There were three other ladies in the room, and Georgiana did not wish for them all to hear her, so she kept her voice pitched low.
Elizabeth sighed. “He duped me as well,” she said.
“But not as he did me.” Georgiana slipped behind a screen that had been set up for privacy.
Elizabeth stood just out of Georgiana’s view. “No,” she said, “but he nearly broke my heart, though I did not know it. Can you believe I listened to his stories about your brother?”
Georgiana did not reply. She had heard the full tale of how Elizabeth had listened to Mr. Wickham’s tales of woe which painted Fitzwilliam in such a poor light that it had been part of why Elizabeth had refused Fitzwilliam’s first offer of marriage. Georgiana knew how convincing Mr. Wickham could be with his words. It was strangely comforting to know that she was not alone in having been tricked by him.
Elizabeth stopped Georgiana as she came out from behind the screen. “What he did – who he is – is reprehensible.”
“He is,” Georgiana agreed.
“Not all men are like him,” Elizabeth added before slipping behind the screen to take her turn.
Georgiana knew Elizabeth was right. Not all men, especially Jack, were like Mr. Wickham. Georgiana turned to see who was left in the room. Two ladies were just making one final appraisal of their hair and preparing to leave. The third lady who had been in the room was already gone. However, as the door opened to allow the two remaining ladies to leave, a new one entered.
“Miss Darcy, are you enjoying your night?” Miss Parkes crossed the room to greet her.
Georgiana bit her lip and nodded her head.
“That is not the expression of one who is truly enjoying herself,” Miss Parkes said with a laugh. “Mrs. Darcy,” she greeted as Elizabeth joined them. “I stepped on my hem and tore a hole in my dress, as you can see.” She lifted her skirt so that they could see a small hole near the bottom on the right side. Then, she sat on a bench near them and took a small kit containing a needle and thread from her reticule. “I am forever causing some damage to my dresses, so it is best to be prepared to fix it,” she explained as she prepared to repair her hem. “Thankfully, my partner for the next set has bowed out of his place, and I have time to put myself to right.” She slipped off her shoes and wiggled her toes. “My feet will be glad for the reprieve. Sit with me,” she offered.
Ah, that is why Jack had stopped to speak with Miss Parkes. Georgiana felt a pang of guilt at having caused Miss Parkes to miss out on a dance, no matter how much that lady might claim her feet would be appreciative of the rest. “Mr. Tibbett will be waiting,” Georgiana said. She had no desire to return to the ballroom, but she was uncertain she wished to stay here and have a chat either. She genuinely wanted to go home.
“It will do him good to wait,” Miss Parkes assured her. “That gentleman needs to learn his place.”
Georgiana blinked at the sharpness in her tone.
“It is a sad tale, but I am happy to tell it if you wish to listen.”
“I should go,” Georgiana said as she sank down onto the bench next to Miss Parkes.
“I will be happy for the few moments of repose,” said Elizabe
th, drawing a chair near. “However, your brother will not be entirely pleased.” Her tone held a caution.
“I will speak fast,” Miss Parkes assured her. “I know I do not like it when my brother is cross.”
“Nor do I,” Georgiana admitted. “Most times,” she added with a small smile.
“There are moments, are there not?” Miss Parkes asked with a laugh. Then as she began the job of repairing her dress, she launched into her story. “As I am certain you could tell from our discussion at the park yesterday, Mr. Tibbett and I have known each other for some time – since we were children really. Our parents are friends of long standing, you see.”
Georgiana nodded when Miss Parkes looked up from her stitching.
“I had thought I had him secured. He seemed to have returned from school a proper young gentleman. The ideal husband.” She shook her head. “He has always been opinionated but…” She blew out an exasperated breath. “His head had swollen to twice its normal girth!” She once again shook her head. “Did you know, one time when he and my brother were out riding with me…” Her brow scrunched. “I believe I was twelve or so. His family had come for a visit that summer.” She glanced up from her stitching again. “On that ride, he actually told my brother, while they were having one of their ridiculous conversations about what made a proper wife, that he wished for a wife with whom he could discuss the classics. A sharing of opinions was deemed a right proper thing – and he did not mean that the lady must hold to the same opinions as he did.” She gave a sharp nod of her head in agreement with Georgiana’s startled look. “I know it is shocking after how he was yesterday, is it not?”
“Indeed,” Georgiana said.
“You think you know a person and then without warning, he shifts and changes, and no matter how you attempt to forget him and find another to take his place in your heart, the blasted man will not be displaced.” She tied off her string and snipped it off soundly with her scissors. “We had a difference of opinions over reading material, of all things!” She returned her sewing things to the little case.