Miss Darcy's Companion: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (13 page)

The Twelfth Night was upon them before he knew it, and his well-trained people had done their duty to perfection. Everything was as it should be – the glittering public rooms, the flawless service, the skilful musicians employed for the purpose – and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves to the full.

Darcy could not claim the same, but then a host was not necessarily expected to. Least of all one who did not favour dancing, yet was compelled to do his duty, just like every other member of the household. So he had stood up with many of his neighbours’ daughters that night, for far too many dances by his standards, and Darcy was now glad of the respite as he withdrew to one side with just a glass of punch for company.

At least he did not have to fret over Georgiana’s comfort. She could not be persuaded to attend the ball and, in truth, he had not tried very hard to sway her. She was not out and although no one would have objected to her attending a private ball in her own home in the middle of the festive season Darcy was rather glad he did not have to tread on that thorny path just yet.

It had not come as a surprise that Miss Bennet had offered to keep her company above stairs instead of joining the great crowds in the ballroom. He hoped they were comfortable, whatever they were up to. With this commotion it was not to be imagined they had gone to sleep as yet.

He brought his cup of punch to his lips, but his hand remained suspended in the air and his gaze fixed ahead, beyond the musicians’ corner, on one of the windows separating the ballroom from the orangery. The violinists, as well as the line of dancers moving in and out, kept interfering with his line of vision and he stepped aside for a better look. He could have sworn–… Ha! There she was indeed. He could spot her again, an oval face peeping from beneath the fronds of some exotic plant or other.

He smiled at the recollection of having glimpsed his sister’s face years ago, in like circumstances. Not peeping from the orangery, but between the railings of the great staircase, on the evening of the last ball his father had hosted at Pemberley, when she was no more than eight years of age. He had climbed up then, to find her in her nightclothes and dressing gown, smiling rather consciously to have been caught sneaking out of bed to watch the glittering crowds below. He had scooped her up and held her close to keep her warm and had remained thus, sitting on the step, much more content to keep his little sister company than play his part among his peers below stairs.

He set down his glass and made the same old choice again. He could not stay as long this time, nor was she small enough to be scooped up into his lap, but he would go to her and see how she fared. He did not walk straight to the door that linked the ballroom with the orangery, not wishing to attract attention, nor encourage others into joining him, but took the long way round exchanging the odd pleasantry as he went. The crowded ballroom was finally left behind, and then the supper room – music room – drawing room. By the time he had gained the entrance hall, he discovered that Fitzwilliam was following.

“I take it that you are going to the orangery,” his cousin observed, and Darcy laughed.

“You saw her too?”

“Just for a moment. I wonder if she is still there. She drew back when she saw me peering in her direction. I hope I have not frightened our little mouse away.”

They rounded past one of the columns in the great hall and made their way along the corridor that led to the side entrance into the orangery to finally pick their way, in the subdued light filtering from the ballroom through the leafy screen, towards the spot where they both thought they had espied her. But when they reached the atrium bordered by a few elaborately carved benches, a surprise was in store for them. Georgiana was still there, peeping with rather more circumspection further back from the window, but she was not alone. Miss Bennet was at her side, a faithful companion, and they whispered something to each other, then giggled – only to stop short, straighten and look back when an incautious footstep betrayed the newcomers’ presence.

“Oh. I see you found me yet again,” Georgiana smiled up at her brother, with only a hint of her childish consciousness from over seven years ago.

“Well, at least this time you are not in your nightclothes. Or are you?” Darcy teased, and his sister laughed.

“Fitzwilliam, for shame! Of course not.”

“You need not watch from afar any longer, sweetling,” he affectionately pointed out. “You can join us if you wish. You are old enough, you know. As are you, Miss Bennet,” he smiled warmly to the latter.

She laughed softly at that, but it was only Georgiana who replied.

“Too grand an event, Brother, and far too many people. But if I would much rather not be part of the spectacle, it does not follow that I do not enjoy it.”

“How about you, Miss Bennet? You once said you dearly love to dance.”

“A great deal, Sir, in less formal circumstances. And when I am better acquainted with my partners.”

“Is this sufficiently informal, do you think? As to your other point, I imagine we are reasonably well acquainted,” Darcy heard himself say and the remark, as well as the lightness of tone, surprised him nearly as much as it did at least two of the other people present.

Fitzwilliam raised a brow and eyed him squarely, and so did Miss Bennet.

“Are you asking me to stand up with you? Here?”

Under his cousin’s continued scrutiny and a certain something in his countenance that was beginning to look suspiciously like a smirk, Darcy felt rather foolish for offering the ill-judged suggestion, but could not wholly regret it. And in any case there was nothing to be done now but evenly reply:

“I am. Would you be so kind to allow me the pleasure?”

She still seemed to doubt he was in earnest when she airily asked:

“Do you often dance with imaginary couples, Sir?”

“Not since my first lesson,” Darcy replied, studiously ignoring Fitzwilliam’s growing smirk. It surprised him greatly that he still kept his peace. It was decidedly unlike him to pass on an opportunity to tease.

When his cousin did speak up, it was only to surprise him all the more.

“Well, at least one other couple is real enough,” he said casually, offering a gloved hand to Georgiana. “Shall we, little cousin?”

“Of course,” she beamed. “What a delightful notion, dancing in the orangery.”

“Aye, is it not just? And at your brother’s very own suggestion. Wonders would never cease,” Fitzwilliam drawled, but Darcy did not see fit to respond in kind as he remained poised, waiting for Miss Bennet to place her hand in his.

She finally did so and they took their places in the middle of the wide open space. Before long, on the other side of the tall windows festooned with greenery, the musicians struck their chords. It was the slow, measured tune of an old ballad, an uncommon choice for a country dance – but they must have thought that the large company would appreciate a respite from skipping to very lively music.

Unbeknownst to them, the much smaller party in the orangery could not object either. The stately pace allowed a better chance to improvise and alter the figures to make up for the absence of at least one other couple. An effortless task for such accomplished dancers, and they soon fell into smooth patterns with sufficient ease to permit conversation.

“How utterly refreshing to dance with a featherless partner,” Fitzwilliam observed, making Georgiana chuckle.

“Featherless, Cousin?”

“Aye. Those outrageous headdresses. I could not keep my eyes off Miss Fenton’s when I stood up with her, and very nearly disgraced myself with losing my footing. It looked to me that it wanted nothing but another skip to drop at her feet. Along with the rest of her apparel,” he incautiously muttered as an aside.

“There, now,” Darcy found himself forced to censure him aloud, since he was not close enough to stomp meaningfully on his cousin’s foot.

Sometimes Fitzwilliam forgot he was neither in the officers’ mess nor in exclusively male company and his choices of topic could be ill-judged at best. As was this one – highly inappropriate for his sister’s ears, and Miss Bennet’s. He might have forborne to comment on Miss Fenton’s dress and manner of displaying her not insubstantial assets, or at least waited for a private moment over brandy if he really had to mention any or all of the above. As for the lady’s feathers, perhaps he should be grateful they had drawn his eyes up and away from worse transgressions. But at least Fitzwilliam had the grace to apologise and promptly changed the subject.

“Miss Bennet, pray allow me to compliment you on your excellent dancing. I have not had the honour of treading on such agile slippers in quite some time.”

“I thank you, Colonel. As do my slippers, for sparing them so far.”

“Long may I continue. Speaking of which, better lighting would not have gone amiss here, Darcy.”

“Oh, I believe it would,” Georgiana interjected.

“Ha! Perhaps. Exposed us to the enemy, you mean.”

“Something along those lines, although I would not have put it quite so bluntly.”

“You should have joined the fray, little mouse. Good practice for the future. Amelia seems to enjoy the evening well enough, the dear soul. I daresay you and Miss Bennet might have found it to your liking.”

“Oh, Lizzy, have I held you back? Would you have wished to attend the ball?”

“Not at all. Same as you, I have enjoyed the spectacle much better from afar. I do not belong in such august society.”

“Not so,” Darcy protested warmly. “You belong wherever you would choose to go.”

“Hear-hear. I could not have put it better myself. But I trust you were jesting, Miss Bennet, and by august you meant condescending.”

“You are both very kind. I will only say this is a great deal preferable to some people’s conversation, or to standing up with a mortifying partner who moves the wrong way and stumbles into unsuspecting victims.”

“Goodness, aye. Lord Kendall should have long seen he has all the grace and skill of a tethered bear. He did crash into poor Lady Monkford and trod on Amelia’s slippers at least thrice. I doubt that even his beautiful estate could make amends for his ballroom deficiencies.”

“Have you ever been to the Lakes, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked, glad of the opening Fitzwilliam had provided.

“Not yet. My uncle and aunt Gardiner are contemplating a visit in the summer, I am told. They were wondering if I could join them.”

“Would you like to?”

“Very much, if I could be spared.”

“But of course. If we have the good fortune of a dry spring perhaps we could consider an earlier journey into Westmoreland, and then you might be a knowledgeable guide for your aunt and uncle in the summer.”

“Are we to travel to the Lakes, Brother?” Georgiana clapped, and nearly missed her turn to promenade on her cousin’s arm.

“If your dancing skills start veering towards Kendall’s I shall strenuously oppose it,” the latter quipped, but she playfully wrinkled her nose at him as she cast off, with all her customary grace this time.

“Perhaps we shall,” Darcy replied, “but we could lay our plans once we regain our peace and quiet after Christmas.”

“You would love the Lakes, Lizzy. Winander Mere has no rival in beauty. Oh, how delightful! We could sail, as we did with Father, and walk, and– ”

“Before you fix every detail and fill every hour, do remember, sweetling, that nothing is decided yet,” Darcy smiled affectionately. “It might be the wettest spring in living memory. Or Miss Bennet might wish to visit Mrs Bingley instead.”

“Of course. How thoughtless of me…”

“Dearest Georgiana! You could never be thoughtless if you tried. I would dearly love to see your favourite places in Westmoreland.”

“Then it is settled. Or at least as settled as can be,” she added in response to her brother’s quelling glance, and they all joined hands to form a star.

* * * *

The final chords rang and they straightened from their bows and curtsies with words of thanks for the shared enjoyment, then Georgiana gave a rueful little smile.

“I suppose we should retire now and let you rejoin our guests before they begin to wonder what has become of you.”

“True. I should return,” Darcy concurred, not wanting to. “But pray remain to watch the spectacle, as you called it, if you wish. I promise I will not glance your way and betray your hiding place,” he smiled to both young ladies, but Georgiana shook her head.

“Nothing could improve upon this lovely moment. But what say you, Lizzy? Shall we stay for longer?”

Miss Bennet also declared her readiness to retire, so Georgiana kissed her brother’s cheek, farewelled her cousin, Miss Bennet dropped her curtsies, and they were both gone, a glimmering patch of colour through the dark foliage as they made their way back to the house.

Perhaps they should have escorted them, Darcy thought belatedly and cast his eyes with some reluctance towards the crowded ballroom, in no haste to resume playing his part. He took his time, gazing disinterestedly at the restless scene beyond the windows. Groups forming and reforming. The muted buzz of conversation, soon covered by the music. A new set assembling for another dance – a great deal more formal and far less enjoyable than the one they had just shared in the orangery.