Miss Darcy's Christmas

by Karen Aminadra

  This time, Aunt Henrietta laughed. “Oh, Richard! We do not need entertaining, but,” her eyes darted to Georgiana’s, “your cousin needs introducing to the ton. Let’s be sure and do it correctly.” Her gaze returned to her son. “Do not take us to one of those assemblies that your officer friends frequent. They drink far too much for propriety.”

  “Of course, Mama,” Richard appeared chastened, as though the mirth had fled the room with her comment.

  “I cannot abide such lack of self-control. A gentleman ought to know how to handle his liquor without it carrying off his head and manners with it.”

  “You are right, Mama.”

  “Take us to one where there will be lots of young people Georgiana’s age.”

  Richard stared at his cousin, and she fought the urge to shrink away. “I think I know just the place. Leave it to me.”

  “And we will not stay out too late,” Aunt Henrietta continued as she tucked into her pan-fried kippers. “I find these days that I cannot stay awake as well as I used to.”

  Georgiana wiped at the corners of her mouth. “I am certain that Cousin Richard will have both our best interests at heart, Aunt.”

  “Indeed, I will.”

  Georgiana watched as he reached across the table and gave his mother’s wrist a little squeeze.

  The dowager looked up at him, her eyes watery, and whispered, “You’re a good boy, Richard.”

  Georgiana saw the tiniest tensing in Richard’s jaw and surmised he did not like being called a boy. She could not blame him. After all, he had seen his fair share of bloodshed in battle. Her eyes travelled to his injured shoulder and her breath caught in her throat as she traced the curve of his muscles. There is nothing boyish about him at all.

  * * *

  Dressed in a sprigged muslin dress she had made in the summer and brand-new pumps, Georgiana stepped in through the front doors of the assembly rooms on Montague Street. She held on to Richard’s arm as though her life depended upon it while Aunt Henrietta took the other side.

  The first thing to assault her senses was the heat, from not just the exorbitant number of candles burning but also from the mass of bodies pressed into the confines of the building. Secondly, Georgiana recoiled from the melange of perfume and colognes that assailed her nostrils. She raised her hand and covered her nose.

  “It is a little much, isn’t it?” Richard leant towards her and whispered. “Some people need to learn to use scents sparingly.”

  Glad for her hand over her mouth, Georgiana chuckled at her cousin’s comment. “I do hope they keep the doors open; otherwise, more than one lady might faint from the heat.”

  “I do not remember it being this hot in my day,” Aunt Henrietta complained.

  Richard snorted. “Mama! It was hotter in your day! Your dresses were heavier, and you all had wigs on.”

  Snapping her fan open, she caught him playfully on the arm with it. “Yes, well,” she replied, her eyes telling he was right. “Set me down somewhere with the other mamas. I want to see Georgiana is well attended, but I do not wish to be in this fray, Richard.”

  “Very well, Mama,” he replied, carefully steering them towards a settee to the side of a grand fireplace which was thankfully unlit.

  Georgiana stood by with her aunt while Richard gallantly hunted down the master of ceremonies and persuaded two matrons to scoot along the settee a little, thereby making enough room for his mother to be seated.

  They were unimpressed by his request until he happened to drop into the conversation that his mother just happened to be the Dowager Countess of Matlock. Their countenances changed immediately, being only too happy to oblige the wife of the late Earl Matlock and share the settee with such an esteemed personage.

  Once the master of ceremonies had made the introductions, Richard left the women to chat and went in search of something to drink.

  Georgiana felt his absence immediately. She felt safe in the throng while holding on to his arm. As soon as he departed, she felt bereft and lost, unsure of what to do.

  She endeavoured to focus on the conversation the ladies were having, but they were asking Aunt Henrietta about Matlock in Derbyshire, and Georgiana had nothing to contribute to that discussion. She was also loath to butt in and tell them who she was. So in the end she turned about and watched the couples dancing through the archway which separated their salon from the ballroom.

  Feeling self-conscious that she was not dressed as elegantly as some of the ladies present, Georgiana inched towards the archway, mesmerised by the rhythm of the dancers.

  She started when someone spoke by her ear.

  “I cannot tell you how delighted I am to see you here this evening, Miss Darcy.”

  Georgiana’s stomach sank, instantly recognising the voice. She turned, a smile planted firmly on her face. “Lady Francesca, the pleasure is mine, I assure you.”

  Both the ladies curtseyed eyeing up each other’s dresses and hair.

  Lady Francesca leant forward and whispered, “You really must permit me to take you shopping, my dear. We cannot have you running around London dressed like a country bumpkin. The fashions here are vastly different to those in Derbyshire.”

  Georgiana forced the smile to remain in place as she rose from the curtsey. “You are too kind.”

  “But of course,” Lady Francesca smiled, reminding Georgiana of the paintings of snakes she’d once seen in a gallery.

  The Duke’s daughter stepped aside and there, behind her, was the most handsomely dashing man Georgiana had ever seen.

  “Miss Darcy, please permit me the honour of introducing you to my brother, Lord Hugh DeVere.”

  Georgiana’s curtsey was feeble as her knees weakened beneath her. “My lord.”

  “Miss Darcy, you cannot know what a pleasure it is to finally meet you. My sister has talked of nothing but the enchanting Miss Darcy since visiting you and your aunt.”

  He reached out and took hold of her hand. Her heart fluttered in her breast as his lips brushed the back of her silk glove.

  “Oh, really?” she stammered.

  “Hugh, honestly!” Lady Francesca interjected. “He does like to embarrass me.” She lowered her voice. “But I do have to admit to being very much taken with you since our first encounter, Miss Darcy. I very much hope we shall become so much better acquainted.”

  “As do I,” Lord Hugh added, his eyes fixed on Georgiana’s face.

  She knew that it was the intensity of his stare that increased the temperature in the room and compelled her to gasp for air.

  “Miss Darcy, if I may be so bold as to ask, might I have your hand for next dance?” His face spoke of his hope. “Unless, that is, you are otherwise engaged.”

  Georgiana opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat and took in a deep breath. “I am not engaged, my lord.”

  “Jolly good! And that’s enough of the my lord nonsense. You can call me Hugh, like all my friends do.”

  Georgiana gazed up into his face. She liked his features. Not only was he handsome, but she could easily read his feelings on his face. She liked that in a person. Past experience had taught her not to believe a silken-tongued devil. Hugh DeVere, she suspected, was not the self-centred oaf she had presumed he was. So far, she admitted to herself, she liked him very much indeed.

  At that moment, the music fortuitously ended and couples flooded from the dance floor.

  “Now is our chance, Miss Darcy.”

  Georgiana realised Hugh still held her hand. As he led the way through the arch, she felt her cheeks and neck burning and knew her face shone red.

  Hugh kept his eyes on her, and his smile sent her pulse racing.

  * * *

  Richard pushed his way through the heaving crowds of people, carefully trying not to spill a drop of the two glasses of punch he carried. When he arrived back at the settee upon which his mother sat, he could not see Georgiana.

  He looked about him in a panic. Darcy will skin me alive if a
nything untoward happens to his sister, he thought.

  “Do not worry yourself, Richard, dear,” his mother called out over the din. “Georgiana is dancing with Lord Hugh DeVere.” She pointed in the direction of the ballroom. “There! You can see them. Do they not make a handsome couple?”

  “Indeed they do, Lady Matlock.”

  Richard looked at the woman next to him, nonplussed.

  “Let me introduce you to Lady Francesca DeVere, the daughter of the Duke of Somerset.”

  Richard bowed deeply, unsure what to do. “My lady,” he said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could.

  “Lady Francesca,” his mother continued, “this is my son, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  “I assure you that your cousin is in the safest of hands with my brother, Colonel,” Lady Francesca drawled.

  “I should hope so,” he snapped, his eyes darting to where his view of the couple dancing was obscured by another pair in the set. His hand involuntarily clenched at the glass in his hand, meant for Georgiana. He turned back to the lady before him. “Would you like a beverage, Lady Francesca?”

  At the look of pleasure and delight on her face, Richard handed over the glass. He watched her as she drank from it, taking in deep breaths to push away the suspicion that tried to rise inside him.

  Darcy had asked him to take good care of his sister, but Richard could not account for the strength of the desire to protect her that washed over him.

  His eyes found their way back to the couple dancing. He watched Lord Hugh like a hawk.

  “Do you like to dance yourself?” Lady Francesca asked, rising and sidestepping a little nearer to him.

  Richard looked down at her. He knew her sort. He knew what she was about. He also believed he knew her brother by reputation, and he would, by far, rather have Georgiana dancing with a python than DeVere. “I have been known to enjoy a dance or two.”

  Lady Francesca, he noted, treated him to her most endearing smile. “Then I hope that this occasion will be one of them.”

  “Do you wish to dance, Lady Francesca?” he asked, a thought occurring to him. “May I?” he held out his hand before she had the chance to reply.

  Once she took hold of it, Richard pulled her a little inelegantly rather than led her to the dance floor and together they joined a set.

  If she is going to dance with him, then I will damn well get as close to them as I can. Richard’s thoughts ran hot, and he worked at keeping his face as pleasant as possible, smiling at Lady Francesca each time he caught her eye—which was far more frequently than he liked.

  Let him dare put one toe out of line, Richard fumed inside.

  * * *

  The pace of the dance left Georgiana with scarcely any breath left to converse with Lord Hugh. She thanked heavens for small mercies, as she flushed red each time the man looked into her eyes or spoke to her.

  “Have you been to the ballet yet, Miss Darcy?” he asked the next time he passed close enough for her to hear him.

  Instantly, Georgiana’s eyes lit up. She had only once seen the ballet when Darcy took her to Stratford-upon-Avon. She had loved every minute of it. “Oh, I would dearly love to see the ballet again.” She glanced up at him, mesmerised by his eyes as blue and as profound as the deepest ocean.

  “Then I shall have to procure us a box,” he replied, grinning.

  The few seconds she had to wait to speak with him again were agonising as they danced the next part. She walked behind the other gentleman in their set, smiling amiably as she passed him, until she was by Lord Hugh’s side again. “I should like that very much, Hugh.”

  Georgiana thought that the smile on his face was far brighter then than all the candles in the assembly room put together.

  “I shall take the liberty of calling on you at the Dowager Countess’ house as soon as I have the details of when we shall go to the ballet.”

  She was aware that her smile matched his at the anticipation. As the white plastered walls with gold-accented agapanthus leaf moulding whizzed past them while they danced, Georgiana thought how mistaken she had been in the DeVeres. I had not thought to find Hugh as affable as he is. He is quite charming. They moved down the room and out of the corner of her eye, she could see they were being admired. She was grateful for her dance lessons.

  They spun around the room, and Georgiana felt a little dizzy. She did not know if it was from the dancing or from the man with whom she danced. When they passed close to the archway leading from the outer salon, she caught a glimpse of her cousin Richard leading Lady Francesca to dance. I wonder if even my opinion of Lady Francesca will be a little softened by my knowing her better?

  Just as Richard and Lady Francesca joined a set lower down the room, Georgiana caught sight of his expression. She had to take a second look over her shoulder while she continued to dance. She frowned, not understanding what she saw. His face was like thunder.

  “Are you well?” Hugh spoke into her ear.

  “Y…yes,” she faltered. “I thought I saw your sister dancing with my cousin, that is all.”

  He laughed. “Why would that make your countenance fall so? My sister is an excellent dancer.”

  She shook her head once. “I didn’t mean…”

  Again, he laughed. It was a warm sound that spread though her entire being. “Then what is it?”

  “I thought my cousin did not wish to dance,” she lied.

  “Oh, is that all!” he replied as they separated again to dance with the other couple in the set.

  She kept silent after that, ashamed she had told an untruth. However, at every opportunity she looked for Richard. She hoped she was mistaken, but he glowered at Hugh and she detected a scowl to his mouth. Surely, he is not put out that I danced first with Hugh and not him. How could I have refused to dance with him?

  Georgiana refocused her attention on enjoying the dance, so not to draw Hugh’s questions again.

  I sincerely hope Richard is not offended.

  * * *

  Of course, Richard was offended. He could not wait for the dance to end. Thankfully, his partner danced well enough for his concentration and attention to drift to her brother. The sooner I get my cousin away from him the better, Richard thought. As the music ended, there was a burst of applause and the sets broke up.

  He led Lady Francesca back through the arch to where his mother sat contentedly chatting away with the other mamas.

  “Do you wish for more punch, Lady Francesca?” he asked, hoping that his duty was over.

  “Thank you, but I am not in need of refreshment,” she beamed.

  “Very well,” he bowed slightly, turned, and spied a friendly face beating his way through the crowd towards him.

  “There you are Fitz!” the young man called out as he slapped Richard on the arm.

  “Alex! I did not know you were in town.”

  Alexander pulled a face. “And miss the opportunity of helping you get your sweet little cousin hitched to a rich bachelor?”

  Richard scowled. “That is not why we are here.”

  “Oh, I touched a nerve, eh?” Alexander’s smile slipped from his face. “I apologise.”

  “Are Louis and George here?” Richard changed the subject.

  “Too right they are. And winning at the card tables, no doubt.” Alex snorted.

  They were interrupted when Lord Hugh escorted Georgiana back to them and bowed. “I shall return post-haste with some refreshments, Miss Darcy.”

  Both Richard and Alexander watched him leave.

  “We’ll have to do better than that,” Alexander whispered in Richard’s ear before turning to Georgiana. “I don’t suppose you remember me.”

  Her face was blank.

  “I believe you were but six years old the last time I saw you, and I believe I pulled your plaits, for which I apologise,” he chortled.

  “Oh,” she replied, her eyes enlarging.

  Richard stepped in with an explanation. “This is my old school fellow, Alexander Salisbury.
”

  He watched as Georgiana curtseyed. His chest swelled with pride seeing her so full of grace and elegance. She would not be out of place at St James’ Palace amongst royalty.

  “I am pleased to see you again, then.”

  “As am I. It has been too long,” Alexander replied. “I always remember holidays in Matlock fondly.”

  Georgiana smiled. “Yes, my aunt is an excellent hostess.”

  “Is she here?” He shot a look at Richard who nodded. “Then I must give her my regards.” He bowed. “Please excuse me, Miss Darcy.”

  Richard was left with his cousin, while Lady Francesca hovered expectantly behind them. “I do have other friends I wish to introduce you to during the course of your stay here.”

  “I should be delighted.” She gazed into his face earnestly. “Richard, I do apologise if I offended you by dancing with Lord Hugh first.” She licked her lips, a nervous expression knitting her brows together. “I could not very well deny him or tell him I was to dance with you when you were absent, could I?”

  “My dear cousin, you are so amiable and easy-going that I doubt you could deny anyone a dance.” He lightly touched her hand. “I am not offended by your not dancing with me,” he whispered.

  He watched her shoulders tilt downwards and relax.

  “Now, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me, there are two more friends of mine that I’d like to make your acquaintance.”

  One quick nod was all he needed to offer her his arm and lead her away to where his friends were playing cards.

  They entered the room, which was cooler but still packed with ladies and gentlemen all enjoying a break from dancing to play at the tables. The air was thick with cigar and pipe smoke. Richard squinted through the cloud to spy his friends beside an open window. “There,” he pointed and negotiated their way around the tables.

  Both George and Louis ended their game when they saw Georgiana on Richard’s arm. He was pleased. Either of them would be a far better match for Georgiana than the lecherous Lord Hugh DeVere. He stepped back to allow them to talk after making the introductions, surprised at the sickening feeling in his stomach. He did not want any of them to marry his cousin.