Henry pulled his eyes away from Lady Catherine long enough to acknowledge them. He was a small, handsome man with a bright, boyishly mischievous smile that age had not dimmed. His gaze swept over Fanny from head to toe. Maria, his wife, did not glance at Ned or Fanny immediately. Instead, she watched her husband look at them. She frowned, the expression emphasizing her double chins.
"Hello! Yes, I remember seeing Fanny…and Ned," Henry said. Maria nodded her agreement, turning to fix her dull eyes on Ned.
"And you know Father Robyn from the party," Lady Catherine went on. He stepped forward to take Fanny's hand, giving her a quick, smiling look of secrecy.
Lizzy nodded. "Yes, I remember him from the party, certainly. We had a discussion…about submission, I think."
Wickham laughed from behind them. "Father Robyn's hobby horse. Let's hope we can keep him from climbing on ittonight." The priest rolled his eyes at that but turned and shook Ned's hand, finding a smile for him, too. Then he motioned to the blond man, who stepped forward. "This is Crispin Smith, my friend." Crispin gave a courtly, shallow bow.
"Let's sit," Lady Catherine commanded. "Notice that I've placed nameplates in such a way that the group is broken up a bit. I am sitting at one end of the table with George at the other."
Lizzy found Fanny’s place between Crispin and Wickham at one side of the table, and Ned’s seat was diagonally across from her at the opposite end, next to Lady Catherine. There continued to be a few moments of awkward, music-less Musical Chairs, and then everyone was seated.
Lady Catherine gave Wickham a quick significant look, and he nodded. She picked up a small bell beside her plate and gave it a soft ring.
Almost immediately, the older man who taken their coats entered with a large silver bowl of soup. An older woman was with him, and together they served everyone. "Boston clam chowder," he announced.
Lady Catherine smiled beneficently. "Just the thing for a cold Chicago evening."
Crispin happened to lean back in his chair, providing Fanny with a clear view of the other side of him to catch Henry staring at Lady Catherine's chest as if he had another prescription in mind, another way of sheltering from the cold. Directly across from her, she saw Maria taking the first slurp of soup while keeping her eyes firmly trained on Ned over Father Robyn.
Desultory conversations began around the table, talking interspersed with spoonsful of chowder. Wickham carefully scooted his chair a bit toward Fanny. She was seated so that her left hand was toward him, and he stared at her ring.
Ned had been watching, waiting. Before Wickham could say anything to Fanny, Darcy pushed his chair back and cleared histhroat. As he stood, he said in his midwestern voice, "Fanny and I don't know you all well, but tonight is a night of celebration for us, and we’d like to share that celebration with you. At dinner yesterday, I asked her to marry me. She saidyes.”Ned smiled big at the assembled group, his smile settling on Fanny, her eyes on him.
He looks so lovely standing there, Lizzy acknowledged before disowning her thought.
But not the ring. She owned that. Fanny held up her hand, back of her hand out, fingers down, so that everyone could see her ring.
As Lizzy shifted in her chair to display her ring, she felt Wickham's foot settle secretly on top of hers. She smiled at everyone in turn as they congratulated her, facing Wickham last and briefly holding his eyes to acknowledge the contact below the table. She did not smile, but she did not move her foot. Wickham's eyes flashed. He grinned at Ned and picked up his glass to toast.
Let the parlor games begin!
The toasting ended, and everyone recommenced conversation and soup. After making sure that Ned was talking to Lady Catherine?presumably about Ned’s and Fanny's plans?Wickham leaned close to Fanny. Father Robyn, Crispin, Henry, and Maria were talking about the change in the weather, the plummet in temperature, and the ominous gray skies.
"So,engaged? You were right. I see Ned carefully guarded against undue ostentation when he chose your ring."
Lizzy gritted her teeth. Wickham could talk about almost anything but that ring.Off limits.She put her hand on her lap. "It's beautiful. I love it."
"I'm glad. How long is Ned staying?"
"Why does it matter?" Fanny asked ingenuously.
"Because I want to know when I can see you again. Alone."
"I don't think that's going to happen," she said softly. "Last night changed everything."
Wickham's foot pressed hers beneath the table. She left them in contact. He smiled. "I don't think it changed anything. Not really. You may marry Ned…or not, as you choose." He ran a finger languorously around the top of his wine glass, eliciting a small sighing sound. “But you will welcome me to your bed one way or the other." He leaned even closer, taking advantage of Father Robyn's loud laughter. "You are still waiting for my hand to finish its trip up your leg."
Lizzy looked up. Darcy had turned toward them, had seen and maybe heard the end of Wickham's gesture with his glass, his head near Lizzy. Darcy glowered at them.
Fanny ducked her head, blushing. It was a real blush.
Her earlier flirtations with Wickham had affected her the same way all of Lizzy’s honeypot assignments had, as intervals of self-betrayal. This time, with Wickham's foot still on hers, his words heatedly echoing in her ears, the remembered image of his slow-moving hand…it felt like a betrayal of Darcy.
Of Ned.
By Fanny.