Page 52 of An Accidental Meeting
“I am not in the habit of relying on others to complete my work,” he said steadily, “so your offer has taken me by surprise. However, I would appreciate the assistance.” He smiled at Elizabeth. “And I would like the company. If you are willing to remain, I would be grateful.”
Darcy stretched his arms over his head. It had taken them a few hours to count out all the coins, jewellery, and stones to inventory them, though the work had been accomplished more expeditiously with the help.
“I presume you have a large safe to store this all in,” Gardiner said, sliding a stack of Spanish coins neatly back into a canvas pouch while Elizabeth did the same with the stones and the rings.
Darcy nodded.
“Then it is time for us to depart while you finish up here.” Gardiner shooed his wife and niece towards the door.
When they were gone, Darcy stood before one of the two corner cabinets, both eight feet tall to match the bookshelves. Both were made of Spanish oak from a tree that had been downed in Pemberley’s park some years past, and both were locked. He inserted and turned the key, swung out the hinged shelves, and removed the back of the cabinet to reveal a tall, heavy safe. Once he had placed the bags alongside the goldretrieved from the frame, he secured the safe, replaced the false back, then closed and locked the cabinet doors.
“Mr. Rhoades,” he said, placing the box on the floor as he exited the room. “Have someone carry this back to the mews.”
The butler bowed. “Very good, sir.”
Then the study door was locked, and Darcy was on his way to check in on his sister and other guests. He found the ladies in the music room, Aunt Nora sitting at the pianoforte with Georgiana and Miss Bennet preparing to sing while Mrs. Gardiner sat on the couch, awaiting the entertainment. Miss Bingley, who apparently had emerged from her chambers, had joined them, though her sister was not with her.
“Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley crooned from a chair facing the instrument, “do come and join us. We are taking turns playing.”
“I should seek out the gentlemen, madam,” Darcy said, casting a surreptitious glance at Elizabeth. “My aunt and sister have things well in hand here, but the gentlemen are not as adept at entertaining themselves.”
“Particularly with your uncle there to stir them up,” Aunt Nora said with a smile. “Do find them and rein them in, Fitzwilliam.”
Darcy bowed and backed out of the room. Before he could travel down the hall in search of the men, Elizabeth’s pure soprano voice began to weave a melancholy ballad about three brothers turned pirates out of poverty and desperation. Just as with her playing, she poured her heart into her song with an emotion that stirred his soul.
He stood and listened, his eyes closing as the ballad continued. When she had finished the final verse and the spell she had woven was broken apart by the way another player—Miss Bingley, most likely—attacked the keys with great technical precision and little sentiment at all, he opened his eyes to see that several servants had also paused in their duties to listen.Now they were stirring again, and one maid wiped a tear from her eye as she hurried on to her next task.
She might not be technically accomplished, but she felt the music, and she made everyone else feel it, too.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he called to one of the footmen, “Where are the gentlemen?”
“Billiards room, Mr. Darcy,” the young man said.
When he arrived, the men were in their shirt-sleeves, and Bingley was ruling the table. He always had been good at billiards.
“Ah, now that Darcy has arrived, you will have some competition,” Uncle Hugh crowed.
“Not I, sir, for Bingley is the better player.” Darcy reached for a cue. “Though I am sporting enough to try.”
“And I am sporting enough to take your money, Darcy,” Bingley said cheerfully.
“We are without hope, I fear,” Uncle Hugh said. “Have your game, Darcy. I should like to play chess with Gardiner.”
“What is the wager?” Mr. Hurst asked Bingley brusquely.
Bingley named a sum, and Mr. Hurst scoffed. “Too low, man.”
“We are playing among friends,” Bingley said. "Not at the club.”
“We wagered more at cards when we were at Netherfield,” Mr. Hurst complained.
Darcy was unsure why Hurst would want to repeat that experience, for he had lost a great deal of money. Darcy was a far better card player than Hurst, no matter the game. Numbers and patterns appealed to his sense of order.
Gardiner was prosperous, but Darcy recalled how Elizabeth had declined to play cards when she saw the stakes. Her uncle had children and a business to consider. Now that he had been safely pulled away by Uncle Hugh, Darcy named a slightly higher sum for each point. It would likely end up in Bingley’s pocketanyway, and his friend was the one paying for his family’s journey to Scarborough.
“Twenty-one points,” Mr. Hurst said. “Give a man a chance to win something worthwhile, at least.”
Bingley nodded curtly. He waited until Darcy had turned away to say in a low voice that Darcy could still hear, “As long as you pay your losses, Hurst. I will not have you cheating Darcy.”
