Page 29 of The Blackmail of Mr. Darcy
Her smile, as she gazed into his eyes, made Darcy feel all rubbery, as if he could not even stand, let alone walk the additional two steps to reach the others.
Luckily, she turned away again and asked Richard, “Did you hear about the recent fire here at Netherfield?”
“Yes, briefly,” he said. “But I did not hear from Darcy’s pen about his own heroics during the fire.”
Darcy, released from Elizabeth’s gaze, could walk and speak again. “I did nothing more than anyone would have done if they had been the first on the scene. I was lucky in that I was not asleep when the cry of ‘Fire!’ first rang out from the kitchen.”
Georgiana waved off her brother’s humble words. “Do not be ridiculous, William,” she said. “Many people would hear such a cry and panic, and others might flounder, wondering what should be done. You knew what to do, and you stayed calm, and you organised not only the evacuation of the house and thebucket brigade, but the next day you alerted the owner and even provided breakfast for residents and staff.”
Elizabeth added, “Did you know, Georgiana, he even paid all the servants for their extra work—despite the fact that most of those servants are employed by another.” She saw Darcy’s raised eyebrows—he was surprised that she knew what had been done quietly—and she said to him, “I know things. Many of them complimentary to you.”
Darcy felt a gush of happiness that washed away all thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet being in any way unsuitable. He gazed at her, realising fully for the first time that she was not a woman he merely liked. The more apt verb, he felt deep in his bones, waslove.
Bingley entered the room with his usual affable greeting; the Hursts entered on his heels with more subdued yet polite words. Darcy managed to say the correct words and to act, he dearly hoped, almost as if he were a rational man. Yet he could not have been altogether successful, since everyone kept sending surreptitious glances his way.
He stepped close to his cousin and, bending towards him, spoke so low he was almost positive that even Richard would not hear his words. “What is my face doing to cause so much consternation among the others?”
Richard chuckled—of course he did, he loved Darcy, but even more he loved making sport of Darcy—and answered just as quietly. “Very red. Altogether starry eyed. Completely enthralled.”
Miss Bingley finally made an appearance, and Darcy focused on greeting her in a normal, courteous manner. Everyone turned to the dining room. The seating arrangements, as usual, positioned Elizabeth as far from Darcy as possible; Darcy and Richard were seated on either side of Miss Bingley.
For the first half of the meal, Darcy was entertained by the fact that Miss Bingley was quite obviously attempting to flirt with Richard. He, of course, flirted right back. She complimented his table manners; he complimented the menu. She revealed great interest in, and admiration for, the Royal Horse Guards; he evinced his esteem for her arrangements and decorations of his rooms at Netherfield.
Her frequent glances at Darcy’s reaction to all the flirtation were, perhaps, expected; he was careful to keep a neutral expression on his face no matter what was said.
“Colonel,” Miss Bingley said at one point. “Please do tell us about the health of your esteemed parents.” She peered down the table towards Elizabeth and said, “You may not realise, Miss Eliza, that the colonel’s parents are the Earl and Countess of Matlock.”
Richard claimed health for his parents and all of his family. Darcy noted that his cousin presented a strained smile and was careful to pretend discomfort about the topic of his parents, once again confirming his acting skill.
Miss Bingley kept her focus on Richard, asking, “You were telling us all, last night, stories of your childhood. But surely you have many stories about your heroic deeds in the cavalry? We should love to hear them.”
“Indeed.” Richard launched into several tales that Darcy knew were carefully edited to remove the many upsetting portions, the violence and injury and death. Darcy watched with interest as Miss Bingley tittered at Richard’s jokes, smiled admiringly at his boasts, and even reached over to touch his arm, at times, as she heaped fulsome praise on his courage and fortitude.
He never dared to meet her eyes when she sent increasingly frequent glances his way. He was also afraid to look into Elizabeth’s or Richard’s eyes, because he was afraid he mightburst into laughter over her seeming desperation to, he supposed, rouse him to jealous possessiveness.
One of Richard’s anecdotes told of a lieutenant leading his men into a thorn hedge, rather than to the bridge they were to secure; all of the company had to disentangle uniforms and flesh from vicious plant life rather than engaging with the enemies that had human form. “Obviously, the lieutenant did this deliberately as a distraction to the French, who must surely have been wondering at the motivation for the unorthodox manoeuvre.”
Everyone chuckled, and Miss Bingley said, “Oh, Colonel, you do entertain us so well! We should never want you to leave Netherfield!” And then she swept another one of those sharp looks at Darcy.
There was a pause, and Darcy felt incredibly happy that Elizabeth provided a distraction. Speaking at a volume that reached everyone, she said, “I should love to tell you all about some former leaseholders of Netherfield. Their names were Mr. and Mrs. Wadham. They loved to entertain, and they hosted several quite outrageously extravagant themed balls.” She went on to describe in detail a masquerade themed on Ancient Rome. Another ball had a magical-world theme, with the ballroom decorated as an enchanted forest; and the menu including floral cordials, marchpane sculpted into stars and moons, and elaborate sugar sculptures of fairies hiding in lilies and under toadstools.
Miss Bingley was obviously caught up in Elizabeth’s tales and pressed her for more details. Elizabeth unhesitatingly described supper tables decorated with moss and ivy, for the enchanted forest theme, and with white drapery, laurel garlands, and faux marble busts, for the Ancient Rome theme.
Darcy was almost positive that every word poured out of Elizabeth’s imagination rather than from memories of actualevents. But of course he enjoyed anything Elizabeth said more than Miss Bingley’s affectations and inspections.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth’s pleasing voice spinning out charming tales of entertainments past eventually inspired Miss Bingley’s more strident voice plotting a future entertainment. She specified that her ball would impress generations of Meryton residents, and that Ancient Egypt, rather than Ancient Rome, would be her inspiration.
“Will you use a pyramid theme for decorations or displays of food?” Elizabeth asked.
Miss Bingley expounded on a myriad ways she could do so.
“And what of mummies?” Elizabeth suggested. “I can imagine wrapping cutlery in napkins fashioned as mummies. I read recently that an English gentleman was able to buy an entire Egyptian mummy on the streets of Cairo. A real mummy would be a spectacular decoration!”
Miss Bingley narrowed her eyes and said, “That borders on the vulgar. I would have to think carefully before utilising mummies in any way.”
Darcy watched in fascination as Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes managed not to betray the least bit of irony.
He attempted, once again, to wrest his own eyes away from Elizabeth. He studied Miss Bingley’s face, instead, and he wondered if the woman actually was infatuated with him in addition to his estate and his fortune. If so, was Miss Bingley planning to redecorate or host spectacles in an effort to impress him? Would such ideas distract from blackmail schemes?
