“The industrialists and entrepreneurs are the ones creating the wealth. Perhaps they should be in charge.” Blake chuckled at her raised brows.
“In charge?” Her surprised look switched into a glaring stare and bore into him so sharp that Blake leaned away from her.
The two continued to banter back and forth all through dinner. He would make a comment, and she would react with more passion than Blake assumed existed. Neither paid much attention to the other guests. By the evening’s end, Blake had smiled more than he had thought possible when he arrived. He noticed his uncle and her father repeatedly glanced at each other, nodding their heads, but he did not care. He enjoyed his evening.
Blake was pleased when the ladies removed to the music room to prepare for the evening entertainment. He wondered if Miss Godwin would be displaying her talents and if her passion spilled into other activities. While he sipped his brandy, he attempted to guess which musical piece suited her. Perhaps either Hayden’s No. 44 or a piece from Mozart’s Idomeneo. Those pieces are certainly sudden with violent dynamic effects, much like her.
***
Kent spent the morning working at Darcy House. He had rechecked all the cabinets for two important documents, not seen since Netherfield Park. One document laid out their plan for how they would circle the world in trade, and the second one covered the strategy to obtain agreement with John Jacob Aster for the fur trade. Kent made a mental note to discuss the missing documents with Darcy.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kent.”
Kent whipped around to see a young lady dressed in the softest blue colored gown and smiling at him with her hands gracefully folding in front. “Miss Darcy! Good afternoon to you.” He bowed deeply when she approached him to curtsey.
“Will you be staying for dinner? We are having your favorite.”
“Veal?” Kent asked and broke out into a grin when she nodded. “Will anyone else be attending?”
Georgiana moved even closer and whispered so quietly, he had to lean down to hear. They shared a few more words huddled together, but before Kent could step away, Darcy entered the room.
“Kent! I did not know you were working here today.” Darcy’s brow tightened until deep vertical lines appeared, a warning Kent could not miss.
“I have been busy all morning.” Kent snapped upright. “Thank you, Miss Darcy. I will attend.”
Georgiana nodded, squared her shoulders, and then slipped out the door without saying a word to her brother. Watching her leave the room, Darcy released a deep sigh.
Kent returned to lock the cabinet.
“Attend what?” Darcy asked.
“I would rather not say.” Kent said, his voice sharp.
“I would rather you did.”
“I gave my word.”
“To my sister?”
“Yes.”
Darcy approached Kent until they were standing eye to eye. Both men stared until Kent lowered his head.
“Do not be such a bloody idiot, Darcy. Your sister is planning a surprise dinner party for you tomorrow. It is your birthday, is it not? She wanted to have a nice dinner and torment you about your growing old.”
“Oh! I...”
“I know. You beg my pardon.” Kent walked toward the window. “You seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Now, I have broken my word to your sister.”
“I will be surprised, I promise, and frankly, I am. I… am only trying to protect my sister. But, I will say no more except I would like for you to attend.”
Ignoring the request, Kent returned to staring out the window. “What do you do when you stand here? I have been trying to figure it out for months now.”
“I think.”
“Does the motion outside the window distract you?”
No. I do not see anything.
“So that is all you do? Think?”
“And deliberate as to what I will say. Sometimes I decide not to speak at all. I have a temper.”
“I noticed. I believe you once admitted having such a trait to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” As Kent turned to face him, he caught his breath when he noticed Darcy had startled at her name. Kent flashed an understanding look. “Yes, I will attend, and I warn you, I will assist your sister in tormenting you.”
“Perhaps I should have moved to the window before I spoke to you. I…”
Kent held up his hand. “Please, no more. Do not beg my pardon. We are friends, are we not? I do not need an apology for every little mishap.”
Darcy nodded and then departed, leaving Kent alone in the library, where Georgiana’s dinner party replaced business issues in his thoughts. He imagined the opportunity before him—a social evening with an Earl’s family. He wondered what his Uncle Daniel would have to say to this.
***
Although Georgiana had sent cards to the Fitzwilliams, the Bingleys and Hursts, Lord Blake, and Mr. Kent, only six people entered the dining room that evening. Lord and Lady Cheswick had left town for their country home and Richmond was busy with his military responsibilities while his brother and wife had left for Bath a day before the invitation arrived. The Hursts also sent their apologies. Victoria could attend, but she explained to her young cousin she would accept on the understanding that Lord Blake did not.
Fortunately, the marquis made his excuses, choosing to spend the evening at his chess club instead where several gentlemen had sent challenges to him.
Georgiana was grateful for his foresight, since she needed Victoria to round out the party with three men and only two other women in attendance.
Darcy and Georgiana led their guests into the dining room. Darcy reacted with surprise at the table decorations and the presents lined up around his place.
“Happy Birthday, brother,” Georgiana whispered.
“Hear, hear!” The others exclaimed.
Kent escorted Lady Victoria, while Bingley and Caroline followed. Darcy sat the head with Lady Victoria, Kent and Caroline along the left side, Bingley sat on the right side next to Georgiana.
“Thank you, all. As I look around the table, I have never been so pleased to be one year older and to celebrate with such good friends. Thank you, again.”
Studying the wrapped gifts, Darcy concluded they were all books except one. He opened the first one, The Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets with Critical Observations on their Works, in three volumes, by Samuel Johnson.
Lady Victoria laughed. “Volume one uses long abstract words which I suspect you know each one; volume two is sufficiently haughty, but comprehensible to anyone that uses only three syllable words, and volume three is an essay on Swift.”
“Thank you, Victoria. I have searched many years for these books.”
“My father found them months ago. All the Fitzwilliam’s have been looking ever since the last Twelfth Night celebration when you mentioned your desire for them.”
Darcy selected Kent’s book next.
Kent nodded to Georgiana. “I was asked to choose a book dealing with science and I believe this provides sufficient guidance to experiment on your own.
Darcy read the title to everyone. “Experiments and Observations on Fermentation and the Distillation of Ardent Spirit by Joseph Colier. Why thank you, Kent, but now you will have to test each batch! You come from a long line of experimenters!”
Caroline smiled when Darcy picked up the book from her, although it was mostly handwritten pages tied together with ribbon. A titled page on top read, A Collection of Poems by Major Henry Beekman Livingston, Jr. “Livingston? Is he a new poet?”
“No, but he is not well known in England. Our families have been friends for generations. They now reside in New York, but we have maintained contact through correspondence. I am positive that one day he will be recognized as a great poet.”
Darcy untied the ribbon and gently handled the poems, stopping to study several of the intriguing titles. The Dance, The Progression and The Vine & Oak, and one he assumed was written for children entitled, Account of a Visit From St. Nicholas.
He began to read it aloud.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there…
Everyone clapped when he had finished reading the entire poem.
“What a wonderful tradition. Neither the Burning of the Yulelog tradition nor Boxing Day will compete with this for the hearts of children. Has it been published in America?”
Caroline shook her head. “He sent them to my grandmother and then several more poems arrived a year ago. He gives this poem to many people. He wrote it when his children were young, and it became a tradition for our father to read it to us every Christmas. It is his favorite. I had forgotten about these until Georgiana requested we all bring a book as a present. I know you collect first editions, and while it is not bound, it is the originals. Perhaps one day you could continue my family tradition and read the poem to your children.”
“I will. Miss Bingley, this is a wonderful gift.” Darcy thumbed through the poems, his brows lifted when he spied the title on the last poem, Epithalamium: A Marriage Poem. Feeling his cheeks burning, he nodded to Bingley’s sister and carefully retied the pages together and set aside. “I will treasure them always, Miss Bingley. I am exceedingly grateful for your thoughtfulness.”
“Mine next.” Georgiana handed him her book.
Darcy ripped the paper with enthusiasm and read the title aloud. “Rules for Angling, Parts I through V by Richard Bloom.”
“Perhaps now you can catch that old thirty pound diligo.” His sister giggled.
Kent questioned her with his look until she answered, “Latin for prize. My brother has been chasing this one old carp ever since I can remember. What did you name him?”
“Busillis.” When everyone turned their gazes on him and waited, Darcy continued, “Latin for baffling puzzle. He has been one ever since I caught him and he slipped through my fingers. I was sixteen. I have not come that close since then.”
Bingley laughed. “Perhaps I should use that nickname for you, my friend. You have baffled me often. Now you have one gift left, and I will admit that it is not a book.”
Darcy picked up the box and removed the ribbon and as he opened the top, Bingley cautioned him to be gentle with the contents. Darcy removed a few strange objects and shook his head. “I am at a loss for words.”
“You usually are, Darcy.” Grinning, Bingley moved towards his friend. “Let me show you how this works. Mr. Keir sent this to you. It is called an arc light and a man named Humphrey Davey invented it. These two wires attach to something called a battery, and this charcoal strip hooks across the two wires. Now watch.”
Bingley connected the wires to the battery and then asked the servant to blow out the table candles. He attached the strip forming it in an arc. A light detonated, burning a brilliant white glow much brighter than any candle. When Darcy leaned in to get a closer look, the beam of light disappeared. Bingley laughed and then handed Darcy more charcoal strips.
“This is amazing, Bingley. I cannot thank you enough.”
“Mr. Keir enjoyed discussing electricity with you the other night. When I informed him of your approaching birthday, he had this sent to me right away. He said you mentioned that you longed to have a bright light for reading at night.”
“But it goes out quickly.”
“Unfortunately, all progress takes small steps to begin with. You will learn it takes much effort just to achieve the smallest change. And not everything runs smoothly either. Sometimes everything you have been taught is for naught and you must learn to accept what you thought was not possible.”
Darcy lifted his glass. “A most delightful party, everyone. I cannot begin to express how happy I am...” He gazed around the table at the group assembled and continued, “And to be surrounded by my friends has made today the best celebration held in Darcy House.”
Darcy signaled for the meal to begin and as expected, Caroline monopolized the conversation by sharing the latest talk about the town. She also complimented Georgiana many times on her exquisite taste in table decorations and meal choices. She repeatedly admitted to everyone how she adored veal. Soon, the others drifted off into conversations with others, leaving Caroline to eat in silence. On occasion, Kent and Bingley brought her into the conversation, but she was rarely able to add to their discussion. They discussed Bingley’s dinner party, and the various characters that had attended.
During a lull in the conversations, Lady Victoria turned to Kent. “Pray tell us, good sir. Are there any wonderful tales you can share about Darcy from his Cambridge days?”
“Are you wishing for his boisterous laughter, wild storytelling, or yodeling in the middle of the night? I know it all!”
“Yes, please tell all.”
All the conversations ceased as everyone’s eye turned to Kent. Darcy revealed a slight smile and nodded to Kent to continue.
“I am sorry that is not possible. He was just as he is today. Quiet. Not even an entire barrel of ale could affect him. As a sober and thoughtful man, he was a friend to me and to all the newest students. I must admit, I would not have stayed had Darcy not taken charge and kept me from making foolish mistakes.”
“You forgot about his birthday celebration, the one at the Boar’s Head Tavern.” Bingley smirked.
“My God, I did!”
“What happened? You must not leave this room without revealing the whole story.” Georgiana exclaimed. “Something did happen. My brother is as red as Victoria’s necklace.” Everyone compared Darcy to the ruby pendant, and began to argue over which one was brighter.
“Do not divert us. What did my brother do?”
Bingley laughed. “After being forced to celebrate at a local inn, he rode back to our lodgings on his horse, facing backwards.”
Kent wiped his eye with his napkin. “It was the funniest sight. He held on to a few strands of the horse’s tail, and he would not stop saying giddy up. We called him giddy up man all the next day.”
“How is it possible? Would he have fallen off? Would the horse go forward?”
Kent patted Lady Victoria’s hand. “I rode alongside and led his horse, although it was not easy. I do not know how he fit on the saddle. And then Darcy kept smacking the horse’s rear as if it was his neck.”
“And one time he did fall into its tail,” Bingley added.
Darcy shrunk down in his chair, shaking his head. “I hope you have learned to like mutton, Bingley.”
Georgiana sighed. “I wish I could have witnessed it.”
“Do not forget, Kent, he hummed and sang all the way. Something from the Marriage of Figaro. I could not keep him quiet. When everyone bolted out of their homes and yelling at him to be quiet, he started singing, ‘I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon.’ He would bow and sing. He must have lost his beaver five times. Do you still have that dirty crumpled old hat?”
Darcy shook his head.
“When we handed it back to him, all he could say was ‘Thank you, my good man,’ as if we were his servants.” Kent rose and bowed to Darcy, who was sighing deeply.
“He tried to dismount but became confused. It seems he has a habit of placing his hand on the horse’s neck when he dismounts, but he could not find it.”
A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation Page 18