Page 6 of Lord Lonbourn's Daughter
“Nonsense, it would be my immense pleasure to keep myself thus occupied.”
“You are a diamond amongst paste, your ladyship. How may I show you my gratitude?”
“By accompanying your daughters to Bond Street for one morning. I know of an excellent tailor.”
“Well played, my lady. Excellent negotiation skills.”
His aunt smiled demurely, which was a falsehood if ever he saw one. It was then he noticed it—just a flicker of Lady Elizabeth’s eyes, but they were aimed in his direction. She probably wanted to gauge his response to her previous tirade, which had obviously been addressed to him. He had received the message, loud and clear. The only surprise had been the lack of vehement objections to the service his aunt had implied he must deliver. Strangely enough, he held no grievances towards the scheme. The thought even brought a measure of anticipation he could not have foreseen. He still had an apology to address. Perhaps when the gentlemen joined the ladies after their port and cigars.
Darcy had quite forgotten about the Earl of Longbourn. It was with apprehension that he noticed his lordship approaching him after the ladies departed. He braced himself for a scolding, having disparaged, quite unjustly, one of the man’s daughters.
The gentleman wore an expression he could not decipher when he clapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder and smiled.
“I must thank you, Mr Darcy. Your uncharitable remarks about my Lizzy should be sufficient to scare away most suitors, do you not think? I am of no mind to relinquish my favourite daughter to an unworthy gentleman. I am sure you will feel the same when one of thehaut ton’s cats have delivered you a baby girl. Especially if she is as sharp and witty as my Lizzy. But I imagine I need not inform you of that, having been at the receiving end of her displeasure. Your comfort must lie in the knowledge that after she has had her say, you will slip unnoticed from her mind. You need not worry about a repeat performance. Your opinion is of no importance to a sensible girl.”
“I can assure you my sentiments have undergone a drastic change towards your daughter.”
“I noticed. Make sure you leave it hidden behind that austere mien you have perfected. Lizzy will remain none the wiser.”
“I must insist on apologising.”
“Certainly, it might even prove to be entertaining.”
Darcy nodded. He knew not what else he could do towards the confounding Earl of Longbourn.
The port and cigars dragged on until he felt like a bundle of nerves. Matlock and Longbourn probably tarried on purpose to torment him—and deservedly so.
He hung back when they finally moved towards the parlour occupied by the ladies. The two younger Bennet daughters were entertaining his aunt, the viscountess, and their eldest sisterwith a song. His apology would have to wait until they had finished. Of course, Richard seized the young lady’s attention by offering to turn the pages for another piece of music. She acquiesced and left him spellbound with her deep and velvety alto voice. Richard was not inflicted by tongue tie or reserve. He escorted Lady Elizabeth from the pianoforte and offered her a seat by the fire and to fetch her refreshments. Darcy made his move as Richard went to fill her glass of sherry. Swiftly, he strode towards her, bowed, and stuttered, “Forgive me, Lady Elizabeth. I…”
Blast! It had happened again. She raised her beautiful eyes, rendering him mute.
“Forgive you? May I enquire what you are asking forgiveness for, Mr Darcy?”
He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to apply itself. He looked at her imploringly, begging her to understand without him needing to utter a word. She met his gaze steadily.
“I see…”
“I did not,” he blurted out. Finally capable of forming a sentence, though not particularly articulate in its expression, he added, “See you, I mean. I uttered nonsense and balderdash without reason nor reflection. I should not ask for your forgiveness but humbly beg your pardon.”
“Very well. Your apology is accepted. We should henceforth be able to meet as indifferent acquaintances. If, by the perverseness of mischance, our paths should cross.”
He nodded his assent despite his heart’s vehement protests. He should withdraw, but his legs were not cooperating.
Richard joined them, offering Lady Elizabeth the sherry, which she sipped daintily with those luscious lips. He had a hard time averting his eyes until Richard accidentally stepped on his toes.
“Perhaps Lady Jane and Lady Mary would like a glass of sherry as well?”
“Yes!”
Richard’s eyebrows were reaching for his hairline. He looked ridiculous, making Darcy smile.
“You seem absent-minded, Darcy.”
Taking the none-too-subtle hint at last, he turned abruptly and left the bewitching lady in his charming cousin’s presence. Blast it all, he should have made a polite departure—preferably a witty and flattering remark of the sort that always escaped him. It was too late to think of something; he could not stroll back to the siren without looking like one of the nitwits she abhorred.
He had enquired as to whether Lady Jane and Lady Mary wanted a glass of sherry before he noticed that both had already been served. His aunt was not one to shirk her duties as a host. It had only been a ruse to remove him from the enchanting lady’s presence.
Chapter 3 A Walk in the Park
