The Choices Series: Pride and Prejudice Novellas

by Leenie Brown

  “Much improved, Miss Darcy,” said the dancing master.

  “You can return in two days, can you not?” asked Lady Sophia. “Miss Mary’s time to prepare for the season is limited.”

  The gentleman inclined his head. A smile crinkled the skin around his eyes. “I would return every day to dance with Miss Bennet, but I have other students, so I shall have to be content to wait two days before I return.” He gave Lord Rycroft an appraising look. “It would do well if the ladies had an opportunity to practice once between now and our next lesson.” He cocked his head to the side, and both brows rose as he waited for Lord Rycroft to respond.

  “I have business─” he began, but a small cough from his mother stopped him. “but, I am certain I can find a few moments to be of assistance.”

  The instructor turned to Miss Darcy. “Do you have the music for the dances we did today?”

  “I do.”

  “Then perhaps you could play for Miss Bennet and Lord Rycroft, and then Miss Bennet ─ you do play, Miss Bennet, do you not?” He waited for her assurance that she did play before continuing. “Then you must play for Miss Darcy and Lord Rycroft.” He gave a sharp nod of his head, indicating that the plan was good and the discussion at an end. Then, with a scold to the musician to be quick, he donned his hat and coat and took up his walking stick.

  “You dance so very well,” said Geogiana. “I wish I could do as well.”

  Mary put an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders. “You will. I have had more practice is all.”

  Georgiana shook her head. “My feet do not always follow my head.”

  “That is the problem,” said Lord Rycroft. “You must not dance in your head.” He smiled as Mary rolled her eyes. Finally, he had gotten a response that was not prim or proper as all her others had been today. “You do not believe me, Miss Mary?”

  His tone was teasing, which caused Mary to both bristle and become wary. It would be very easy to scold and reprimand if he were allowed to tease. So, instead of responding with an I most definitely do not, she said, “I await your explanation, sir.” And then she gave him as sweet a smile as she could.

  One of his brows rose slightly, and his mouth became a displeased line instead of the tempting smile it had been. She was definitely playing at something. He had given her the chance to instruct him on the need to know the dance in one’s head before it could become a learned pattern for the body, but she had not taken it. And now, he needed to explain something he was not sure he could explain. “Well,” he began. “The steps must first be known by the head, of course, but,” he glanced at the pianoforte and remembered how Georgiana seemed to flow along the keys with the music, “but it is the heart which must be engaged with the music, as it is when you play. Do you count the notes and timing?”

  She shook her head. “I did at first but no longer.”

  “Ah.” He smiled as he saw Mary’s eyes narrow. He was certain she had hoped he would not have an explanation. “If you do not count, how is it that you can play as it is written?”

  A smile spread across Georgiana’s face. “My heart and body feel it.”

  “Just so.” He tapped her on the nose. “Would you agree, Miss Mary?”

  Her eyes narrowed just a bit more, and he smiled just a bit more broadly.

  “I would.” She moved toward the instrument. “However, sometimes, fingers and feet do not learn at the same rate. One may require more practice than the other.” She took up a piece of music which lay on a bench near the pianoforte. “If you will excuse me,” she looked at him and then toward the door, “my fingers do not learn as readily as my feet.”

  Instead of leaving as she had clearly signaled she wanted him to do, he pulled a chair close to where she took her seat at the instrument. “You may require assistance with the pages,” he explained when she looked up at him with brows drawn close in question.

  Her shoulders drooped a bit as she sighed. Avoiding Lord Rycroft was becoming a challenge. “I would not wish to keep you from your business.”

  He waved the idea way. “My business can wait. I have worked at it all morning and desire some time away from it.” He leaned back in his chair a bit. “Was your trip to the modiste a success?”

  “It was. Mrs. Havelston was impressed with your selections.” She placed her fingers above the keys and gave him a smile. “Now, if you would be so kind as to allow me to concentrate on my music.”

  He nodded.

  Mary’s fingers began working their way through the song as Georgiana joined her companion, Mrs. Annsley, near the window to work on a sampler.

  Lady Sophia, with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her lips, took a seat near enough to her son to both see and hear what passed between him and Miss Mary. She had, from the moment she met Mary, considered her a good match for Samuel, and having watched the two interact, she was certain she was right. Samuel was not the sort to abide a silly or a biddable woman. He needed a lady who was determined, who had a quick wit, and who did not bow to his every whim. Mary was just the thing. She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair as she contemplated just how to convince the pair that they were exactly what each other needed.

  “You think too much,” Lord Rycroft whispered as he moved a page.

  “Shush.” Mary shook her head. She had promised herself she would not scold and yet, she had just done so.

  “You do,” he whispered again.

  Mary’s hands stopped, and she let the note fade into the air before turning to Lord Rycroft. “This is a new piece, and I cannot learn it properly if I do not think about what I am doing. And I cannot think about what I am doing if you insist on speaking to me.”

  He shook his head. “It is not entirely new. You played it when we were in Hertfordshire. I remember it.” He settled back in his chair, a rather smug look upon his face. “And, I believe, my cousin spoke to you while you played.”

  “And I stumbled,” said Mary. “I do not wish to stumble when called upon to exhibit during the season.” She held out her hand for the sheet of music he held. “I must begin again.”

  He shook his head. “You do not need this.” He placed the sheet on the floor next to his chair.

  “Very well, I shall practice later.” She began to rise from her seat.

  “I shall not return it to you until you have attempted the song without it.”

  Mary’s mouth hung open for a moment.

  “You have only to sit and play badly to prove to me that you do not know the piece.”

  She sat once again and held her hands over the keys. “Have you not embarrassed me enough?” she asked softly. “Must you insist on continuing to do so?” She began to play. She stumbled once, and it was not fluid, but she managed to complete the portion of music he held ransom.

  It was not a lecture or a scold, but it was what he had sought, an acknowledgment that he had hurt her. And as her soft words twisted in his heart, he had no idea why he had felt so compelled to hear it. He placed the page of music in line with the others and stood to leave. “I have deserved every one of your lectures and more.” He gave her half a smile. “Remember, I am an oaf.”

  “Not a complete one,” she replied with a small smile of her own.

  He gave a bow and left the room.

  Lady Sophia turned her attention to her book. Perhaps convincing them would not prove so difficult. She smiled as Mary began playing, and she noted the door to the music room open slightly. If the look on her son’s face was any indication, he was half in love with Mary already although she suspected he did not know it.

  Rycroft stood with the door open just enough so that he could see Mary. Her eyes were closed, and her face wore the same smile of pleasure it had during their dance. He had meant to spend only a moment watching. However, the fascination of seeing the emotions play across her face and seeing her body rise and fall with the notes held him there for so long that the final note was fading as he hurried to close the door softly so she would not discover him watching he
r. He shook his head, baffled by his response to her. He looked at the door that separated him from the music that had begun once again, and though he wished to push the door open once more, he removed his hand from the door handle and returned to his study.

  Chapter 4

  Knowing that Lord Rycroft had mentioned the previous evening that he would be riding in the morning, Mary entered the breakfast room the next morning without worrying about whether he would be there or not. She had managed a full day without once giving in to her desire to lecture, and he had seemed rather contrite in all his actions toward her after he left the music room. It was as if he was trying to prove to her that he was not the oaf he continually claimed to be. It was quite unsettling to have him behaving so well. It made it difficult for her to maintain her resolve to avoid him, for he was pleasant company. Relieved that the breakfast room was indeed all hers, she filled her cup with tea and began to toast her bread.

  “Ah, good,” said Rycroft as he entered the room. “Is Georgiana awake?”

  “Are you not riding?” Mary turned her bread trying to focus on it rather than the man who was disturbing her quiet breakfast.

  “I have, and I will.” He took a piece of bread and placed it on a toasting fork before joining her at the hearth. “You said you did not ride well. We should remedy that.”

  “Today?” Mary’s eyes grew wide in surprise, and she nearly forgot to turn her bread again.

  He nodded. “Did you have other plans?”

  “We are going to the museum to draw this afternoon, but I had no plans other than to practice or read this morning.” And she had planned on avoiding him again today.

  “Good.” He placed his bread near hers. “Now, do you know if Georgiana is awake?”

  Mary sighed and turned her bread one last time. “She is, but I do not have a riding habit, so I am afraid we will not be able to ride today.”

  “I thought of that. I have borrowed one from Brownlow’s sister.”

  “You did what?” Mary pulled her bread from the fire and slid it off onto a plate. Apparently, avoidance of his lordship was not going to be an option today.

  “I borrowed a habit.”

  “From a lady I have never met?” She hoped beyond hope that he had not painted her as a project in need of assistance.

  “Is this a problem?” His brows were drawn together. “Lady Serena was happy to help.”

  Mary’s knife stopped with the sweet cream only half spread on her toast. A knot formed in her stomach. “What did you tell her?”

  “I said that my mother had a guest staying with her and that the lady would like to ride but, unfortunately, did not have a habit with her.” He joined her at the table, his toast looking, in her opinion, a bit too sickly white to be proper. “I did not say anything that would embarrass you.”

  “Are you certain?”

  He paused and his brows drew together again as he thought. Then, he nodded his head. “Yes, I believe everything I said was acceptable.”

  Relief washed over her as she cut her bread into small triangles. “Then, I thank you.”

  He blinked. He did not know what he had expected ─ more questioning perhaps or some other objection to his plans ─ but not a thank you.

  “Is she a particular friend of yours or merely the sister of a friend?”

  He was still looking at her mouth ─ the lips that had just thanked him ─ as she lifted a piece of bread and took a bite. He quickly shifted his gaze to his plate as the tip of her tongue flicked out to catch a small bit of jam that remained on her lips.

  “Merely the sister of a friend. She is all but betrothed to Lord Bowthorpe. It is expected to be the match of the season, or so her mother says.” He peeked up at her just as she kissed a bit of something from the tip of her finger. He expelled a breath and returned his attention to his own toast and the topic of conversation. “I believe, however, your sister’s conquest of my cousin may eclipse it for a time.”

  At that, Mary giggled. The thought of her sister Elizabeth being the talk of the ton was strange. “If I had to choose a sister to be the topic of gossip, I would not have chosen Elizabeth.” She shrugged. “Kitty, possibly. Lydia,” she sighed, “more than likely.”

  “And you?” There really was something about her eyes when she was amused, a twinkle that was most becoming.

  “It is not one of my goals,” she said with a laugh. “But if the gossip were for a good reason, which it rarely is, I would not be adverse to being a small topic of conversation.”

  “And what would you say is a good reason?” He filled his cup with tea.

  “I do not know. Something noble. Something of significance to help another. ”

  He laid his spoon on his saucer and lifting his cup and stared at some object across the room. “Even when an act is done for all the right reasons, the gossips have a way of twisting it about to make it scandalous. They do not want to hear of good or noble acts.” He shook his head. “They do not deal in the imparting of truth or kindness.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. “And they enjoy nothing better than to ruin the life of any young lady who makes an error.” He took a sip of his tea.

  Mary chewed her last bite slowly and swallowed, washing it down with the last of her tea. “That is what happened to you,” she said softly.

  He looked at her in surprise. “You heard?”

  She shrugged. “Papa read the news. Lydia read the on dit, and I listened.” She stood to leave. “Do not fear. I shall not ask. You may be a partial oaf, but I do not believe you are what the gossips portrayed.”

  He grabbed her hand as she moved to leave. “You do not wish to know?”

  She smiled at him. “I did not say that. I said I would not ask.”

  He dropped her hand. “Thank you. That you, an acquaintance of short duration and a lady of principle, would not label me as they do means a great deal and to do so without knowing the full story means even more.” She stood waiting for him to continue for he looked as if he would. “I was very much like the man they portrayed me to be. Reckless. Seeking pleasure. Shirking responsibility. But never to anyone’s harm but my own.”

  Mary lay her hand on his. “As you told your mother, you are that man no longer?”

  He smiled and nodded. “I hope that is true.”

  She gave him that little shrug again. “You must not hope. You must believe.” She turned and walked to the door, but stopped. “The riding habit, is it in my room?”

  “It is.” He was still staring at that spot across the room. “Have Georgie join us in three-quarters of an hour.”

  He looked toward her, and she curtseyed quickly. “As you wish, my lord.” His laugh followed her as she scooted out of the room. A smile formed on her lips of its own accord. Perhaps he was not so bad as she had thought. He had taken it upon himself to help her in learning to ride. As she ascended the stairs, she replayed his comments about the scandal that had driven him out of town. The emotions that had played across his face and found their way into his tone spoke of a man with more depth than she had considered. She had said she would not ask about the scandal, but oh how she wanted to! She remembered the story. She had looked for it in the stack of papers in her father’s study after she had met him. Having matched him to the Lord R of Essex mentioned in the paper, she had read the information several times.

  Lord R of Essex has made himself scarce from town after being found in the company of Miss F when he was known to have been courting Lady S. It is said that the jilted lady’s brother, a close friend of Lord R, has broken ties with him.

  She stopped as she pushed open the door to her room and her gaze fell on the beautiful blue riding habit that lay on her bed. Lady S! Lady Serena? She turned and looked back down the stairs. He had said she was merely the sister of a friend, a friend who had looked nothing but pleased to see him when he had come to visit that evening. She walked to the bed and ran her hand over the fabric of the habit. Even when an act is done for all the right reasons,
he had said. As she moved to the bell pull, Mary considered what right reasons there could be for jilting a lady, especially one who was presumably a friend. How she wished she had not made the promise to not ask him about the scandal! She rang the bell to have a maid help her change. Then, remembering her promise to tell Georgiana about being ready, she hurried down the hall to her door, watching over her shoulder in case the maid arrive before she returned to her room.

  “Miss Darcy,” she called. She bit her lip and stared at the open door to her room; anxiety that she would cause the made she had called to wait climbed her spine, making it prickle. Thankfully, Georgiana was quick in opening the door. “We are to go riding with Lord Rycroft in three-quarters of an hour.”

  Mary looked over her shoulder and saw the maid just reaching her room. “Oh, I must go. I forgot that I was to tell you of the riding until after I pulled the bell for the maid to help me with my riding habit.” She was hurrying down the hall. “Well, actually, it is not my habit, it is borrowed.”

  Georgiana followed her. “Borrowed?”

  “Yes,” said Mary as she reached her room. “Lord Rycroft borrowed it from Lord Brownlow’s sister.”

  Georgiana’s eyes grew wide. “Lady Serena?”

  Mary nodded.

  Georgiana sat on the bed. “I did not think she would have lent him anything after what happened.”

  Mary stepped out of her day gown. “So she is the Lady S who was jilted?”

  Georgiana nodded. “I did not think it strange that her brother would visit my cousin because a sister being attached to an equally worthy gentleman, who from all appearances is loved by her and loves her in return, is just the happy balm needed to heal a breach such as that.” She sighed. “Men are such fickle creatures. But a woman who has been so injured?” She shook her head. “How does one recover from such a thing so fully and in such a short time?” She stood at the window looking out across the garden. “I am sure I could not,” she said softly.