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Only Mr. Darcy Will Do

Page 14

by Kara Louise


  ***

  The Goldsmith girls soon grew tired and departed. Emily no longer found it to be as diverting without them, so she and Elizabeth also returned indoors. As they walked past the library, Emily remembered Mr. Darcy’s words about the books.

  “Miss Bennet, may we go in and find those books Mr. Darcy told us about?”

  “Perhaps it would be best to wait for him. He has far too many books in there, and I would have no idea where to find them.”

  “We can at least look.” Emily looked up with pleading eyes.

  “Very well,” laughed Elizabeth. “We can try.”

  They walked in and Elizabeth closed her eyes as she breathed in the scent of the leather-bound books. Again, memories of her father’s library swept over her, and she steeled herself for the grief that often and unexpectedly consumed her.

  Tears began to pool in her eyes, and she chided herself for her sentimentality. She reached into her pocket for the handkerchief she had just been given. Before dabbing it on her eyes, she fingered the silky material and perused the intricate lace. She had never owned something so beautiful.

  “Miss Bennet, have you found it yet?” Emily called out from behind one of the rows of books.

  “No, no,” Elizabeth replied, pocketing her handkerchief.

  “Do you ladies need some assistance?”

  At Mr. Darcy’s voice, Elizabeth’s heart lurched. She was grateful when Emily answered.

  “We are looking for the book on birds you told us about.”

  “Ahh! It is over here, quite close to where Miss Bennet is.”

  The two walked over to her, and she watched him peruse the bookshelves. He stood so close to her that she felt as though her heart would burst from beating so violently.

  Emily, so enthusiastic for the prospect of this book, leaned into him, which in turn caused him to bump into Elizabeth, sending her slightly off-balance.

  “Pardon me, Miss Bennet,” he said as he quickly reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders to set her aright. Her eyes met and held his for the short duration he kept his hands there, steadying her.

  Elizabeth tried to appear calm, indifferent even, as his eyes searched hers, but she felt he could see all that she wished to hide from him. He finally released her shoulders and turned his attention back to the shelf, knowing exactly where to locate the book.

  He cleared his throat and said, “Here it is, Miss Willstone. I daresay you will not find a book with finer drawings.”

  She opened the book, and after looking at some of the drawings said, “May I show my mother?”

  Mr. Darcy nodded. “Certainly. I believe she is in the drawing room.”

  Emily began to skip out of the library, and Elizabeth gave her a soft reminder. “Emily, remember to walk inside the house, and take care with that book.”

  She stopped and turned around. “Yes, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy watched Emily disappear from the library. He turned slightly toward her, and then looked away, as if wishing to say something but sensing her unease. He absently reached up to a row of books and straightened them. His eyes remained straight ahead on the bookshelf in front of him.

  “I understand Hamilton apologized to you earlier for his remarks.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. In vain, she licked her lips before answering. “Yes, he did. I accepted his apology and forgave him.”

  Darcy nodded, still fingering the books on the shelf. “He had no right to press you as he did!”

  Elizabeth lowered her head and said softly, “He had no way of knowing…” Her voice trailed off.

  Darcy dropped his hands to his side. “He is young and often speaks without thinking. He has much to learn.”

  Elizabeth nodded silently.

  Darcy turned his head and looked down at Elizabeth. Her head was still lowered away from him. “Please excuse me. My steward is waiting to see me in my study.”

  As he began to walk away, Elizabeth put a hand on his arm. He stopped and looked down at her hand, prompting her to quickly pull it away.

  “I would like to thank you, Mr. Darcy, for a very enjoyable afternoon.” The smile on her face conveyed a hope that she could be in his presence with a degree of equanimity.

  “I am pleased you enjoyed it.”

  Elizabeth let out a breathy chuckle. “I would not have supposed you interested in planning such a thing as a treasure hunt.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and he allowed a very slight smile to grace his face. “My father often used a treasure hunt to help me in my studies. The enticement of finding a treasure prompted me on more than one occasion to learn my lessons well. Truth be told, many of the clues we used today were ones that my father used.”

  “I believe your father must have been very wise.” Elizabeth let out a genial laugh.

  Darcy’s eyes met hers. “Yes, he was. I can only hope to be half as wise as he was.”

  Emily suddenly appeared at the door. “Miss Bennet, may we go for a walk and take this book? I want to see if I can find some of these birds.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth. “It sounds as if someone desires your presence.”

  “Hmm, yes. Duty calls.” She turned to her charge. “Emily, that sounds like a splendid idea!”

  They walked toward the door, Emily holding protectively on to the book, and Elizabeth hearing Darcy let out a sharp breath.

  ***

  They returned to the house after spending a good hour out on the grounds discovering the names of several birds. Elizabeth told Emily she would keep the book in her room for safe keeping and to let her know when she wished to look through it.

  They were met in the hall by one of the servants, who held a letter in his hand. “A letter was just delivered for you, Miss Bennet.”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth replied as she looked at the unfamiliar handwriting. She quickly tore it open, discovering it to be from her aunt’s friend, Mrs. Ketterling.

  Her eyes skimmed the brief missive.

  Dear Miss Bennet,

  We were overjoyed to hear that the niece of my good friend is so close—and staying at Pemberley, at that! We would be delighted to have you join us on Sunday afternoon. I look with great anticipation to showing you around our pleasant village, pointing out places that were so special to your aunt and me in our younger years.

  Please plan to stay for dinner, as I am inviting some others who were acquainted with Madeline, as well. My husband and I would be pleased to come for you in our carriage. Look for us to be at Pemberley around one o’clock.

  Yours,

  Mrs. Adele Ketterling

  Elizabeth folded the letter. It appeared her plans for Sunday were settled.

  There was just as much joyous reflection on the treasure hunt that night at dinner as there had been the eager expectation of it the previous night. Everyone laughed at their attempts to decipher the clues and how Mr. Goldsmith’s team, on more than one occasion, erred greatly in their conjectures and lost precious time making up for it.

  Mr. Darcy received much praise for his excellent scheme, receiving it humbly. It appeared to Elizabeth, noticing his pinched brow and tightly pursed lips, that he felt awkward receiving such accolades. She brought her napkin up to her lips to cover an appreciative smile that appeared, realizing he was not a man who did things for the admiration of others, but because he wanted to do them.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning, Elizabeth awoke with the sun already sending forth its dawning rays. She sat up in bed and stretched, surprised that she had slept in as late as she had. She stood up and went to the window. It was too late to set out for the ridge now. She wondered whether Mr. Darcy had been up there this morning, watching the sunrise.

  Later, when she and Emily joined the others in the morning room for breakfast, she masked her disappointment when she learned that the men had already set out for a day of hunting. Rosalyn, however, gave Elizabeth a very pointed look of distress upon hear
ing the news.

  Elizabeth was grateful that she had the excuse of needing time with Emily to go over her lessons, so she was not so much in Rosalyn’s company that day. With every word her friend uttered about Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth had to fight thoughts of corresponding denial—either of her own feelings toward him or of what Rosalyn was expecting of him. She was gradually being worn down by it.

  Miss Darcy had given them permission to play the pianoforte in the music room, and Emily enjoyed the benefit of receiving lessons along with Gladys and Harriet. By the end of the day, Elizabeth believed they had accomplished much.

  The men returned in late afternoon; Elizabeth heard their jovial boasting as they entered through the back courtyard. Their hunt must have been successful and enjoyable, judging by their thunderous banter.

  Everyone heard about the men’s day during the evening meal. Mr. Hamilton claimed he had never shot so well, and Mr. Willstone was quite of the opinion that he had never seen so many birds. There was some teasing about missed shots, but they all seemed quite pleased with the day. Elizabeth readily noticed that same look of satisfaction and contentment in Mr. Darcy’s expression, similar to his portrait in the gallery.

  That night, once Elizabeth and Miss Bartley had taken the girls to the nursery, it was apparent they all seemed a little more tired than usual. Perhaps the diligence of study proved more fatiguing than the rigorous activity the day before. Before long, Miss Bartley thought it would be wise to take her two wards upstairs and ready them for bed. Emily wished to remain up a little longer to complete a picture she had been drawing with crayons.

  When she had finished the drawing and proudly shown it to Elizabeth, Elizabeth suggested they retire to their chambers. Emily protested only by asking to go in to her mother and father to show them her picture and say good night.

  “They are with the adults, now, Emily. You know she will come up later.”

  “But I know I shall be asleep by then. May I please?”

  Elizabeth considered whether or not it would be appropriate, but since the two of them had been treated so kindly, she knew of no reason why they should not. They returned to the sitting room.

  When Elizabeth and Emily stepped in, there was a game of whist in progress at one table, and Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hamilton were engaged in a game of chess at another. The Willstones were seated next to the Goldsmiths, and the two ladies were talking. Mrs. Willstone looked up when they walked in.

  “Is anything amiss, Emily? Miss Bennet?” she asked.

  “No,” Elizabeth replied. “Emily wished to come in and show you her drawing and say good night.”

  Emily held out her drawing to her mother, and Elizabeth heard her name called out.

  “Miss Bennet! Come hither!” It was Mr. Hamilton.

  As Emily continued visiting with her parents, Elizabeth walked over to the table where the two men were engaged in a match. At first glance, her eyes took in the beauty of the chessboard. Rather than a simple painted piece of wood, the lighter squares appeared to be made of marble with mostly blue veins. The black squares appeared to be onyx. It glistened in the light of the candles. The pieces were carved in the same marble and onyx. It was a beautiful set.

  She then studied the pieces on the board, taking a quick survey of the progress of the game. “May I ask who is winning?” she inquired.

  “I am, of course,” boasted Mr. Hamilton. “I believe Darcy has lost his touch. I have won three matches to his one, and he usually bests me every game!”

  Rosalyn came and stood next to Elizabeth, laughing. “Mr. Hamilton has complained these past two nights that he might as well be playing a novice and wishes for a more challenging opponent. Of course, I cannot oblige him, but Elizabeth, you play!”

  Elizabeth shook her head firmly and laughed. “Oh, no, I am sure I will not be much of a challenge to Mr. Hamilton, either.”

  “Come! You must agree to play!” Hamilton’s face brightened. “Darcy, I insist that whoever wins this game will play Miss Bennet!”

  “I am sorry,” she said. “I must take Emily upstairs, and put her to bed.”

  At that moment, Mrs. Willstone came over. “If you do not mind, I am rather fatigued and I believe I shall retire for the night. Miss Bennet, I shall take Emily upstairs and put her to bed.”

  “There you have it!” exclaimed Hamilton. “I shall finally have a more challenging opponent!”

  “I do wish I could learn to play!” Rosalyn lamented. “Elizabeth, you must teach me. Perhaps whilst you and Mr. Hamilton play, you could explain the game to me.”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “I doubt it will be an ideal match. Mr. Hamilton thinks me a proficient. I fear he shall be greatly disappointed.”

  “Well, at least you shall be better than my cous… Darcy! What did you just do there?”

  “You are blabbering about and obviously not concentrating,” he answered wryly.

  Hamilton studied the board. “But I have had no need to concentrate!” He studied the board for some time, and finally, after moving his hand above each piece, trying to decide which one to move, he finally settled on one. “There!”

  Darcy shook his head. “Do you really want to do that?”

  Hamilton placed his palms firmly on the table, leaning over the board to give it a better scrutinizing. Without much conviction, he answered, “Yes, I do!”

  Arching an eyebrow and looking up at Elizabeth, Darcy asked, “What is your opinion, Miss Bennet?”

  “I shall hold my opinion for a few more moves,” she answered him, giving him a knowing smile.

  It took only those few moves for Darcy to win the match. A brooding Hamilton shook his head. “You tricked me, Darcy. You allowed me to think I had finally learned how to out-play and out-strategize you!”

  “I did no such thing,” Darcy answered smoothly as he returned the pieces to their starting places.

  “Hamilton, please allow Miss Bennet to have a seat.”

  When she sat down, Darcy said, “You may begin, Miss Bennet.”

  “So how do you decide what piece to play? How to begin?” Rosalyn asked eagerly, having taken a seat at the table. She watched as Elizabeth reached out and moved one of her pieces.

  “The object is to capture the king,” began Darcy as he pointed out the king to her. “He is the most vital piece of all, for once he is trapped, the game is over.”

  “True,” said Elizabeth, “but he is also one of the weakest pieces…”

  “Vulnerable,” interjected Darcy. He made a move and then looked up. “Not weak. Rules are such that he can only move one square at a time. He is not at liberty to move as one might wish. What he can do is greatly limited.”

  Elizabeth gave a slight nod of agreement. “Now the queen,” she said, pointing it out with a smile, “is without doubt the most powerful piece, being able to move in any direction as many squares as she wishes.” She looked at Mr. Darcy to see whether he had a differing opinion on that.

  Darcy cradled his jaw with his hand and studied Elizabeth with careful deliberation. “Barring any obstruction, of course.”

  “Of course,” conceded Elizabeth.

  They each made several moves in silence until Darcy offered, “Sometimes she must be sacrificed to save the king.”

  Elizabeth looked at him oddly. “Yes, but that is not often wise!” she said with a nervous laugh, noticing the intensity of his gaze.

  Rosalyn let out a groan. “This is no help to me at all!”

  “As you develop your strategy, it is wise to study your partner to help you anticipate what he might do,” Elizabeth said as she moved one of her pawns and then looked back up to Mr. Darcy. “You must think several moves ahead, but then your partner may surprise you.”

  Darcy rubbed his jaw as he heard her words. “Very true. It is extremely risky to make a move without considering all possibilities.” Suddenly his voice changed. “I once made a move based on what I thought would prompt a particular response, having foolishly considered no other option. I wa
s… gravely mistaken.”

  Elizabeth fixed her eyes on the board, unwilling to look up as she felt her head spin. Is there some hidden message to me in those words? What had previously been light banter about the game had evolved into something else. Has our conversation all along been about us? He spoke with more gentleness than animosity, however, and she suddenly realized how confident he must have felt coming to her and expecting her to accept his suit. Of course he would have! How much more she comprehended now, and how much more ashamed she felt for the cruel words she lashed out at him that day.

  “It took me quite a while to recover from that miscalculation,” Darcy added as he made his move. “It is always wise to be ready with another strategy if you find yourself faced with that situation.” Elizabeth found the courage to lift her eyes to him and noticed that he was now looking at Rosalyn.

  Elizabeth quickly dropped her eyes back down to the board. Her heart beat wildly as she contemplated his meaning. Is his pursuit of Rosalyn a new strategy of his? She felt her cheeks warm and stared down at the board absently, finally taking her turn. Her insides tightened as she considered that he had every right to turn his affection toward Rosalyn.

  Darcy quickly made another move. When she did glance up at him again, his eyes were back upon her. She wanted to look away, but she could not, feeling as though his eyes were communicating something more than words could do.

  “So what are you going to do next, Elizabeth?” asked Rosalyn, who was, by good fortune, looking down at the board instead of up at them.

 

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