Mr and Mrs Darcy 02 Suspense & Sensibility (27 page)

Lovejoy
watched Harry uncertainly as the lalter dispassionately set down his debt in
ink. Indeed, the victor looked more unsettled by the wager's outcome than the
loser. Dashwood's hand moved rapidly across the paper, as if he couldn't sign away
his birthright fast enough.

"The
transfer needn't take place immediately,'' Lovejoy said. "I presume you
shall want time to retrieve your personal effects and items of sentimental
value."

"Norland
holds nothing of particular meaning to me." He continued wnting, then
paused midstroke. "Oh--save one object. I just sent a looking glass there
from my townhouse to be stored. If I might have that back?"

"Of
course. Anything else?"

He
shook his head and went back to writing. "Just the glass."
The crowd soon dispersed to spread
the tale far and wide; the ton would breakfast upon it along with their morning
chocolate.
Harry completed his note, handed it
to Lovejoy with a dramatic bow, and exited the card room.

On
the way out, he passed Darcy and Chatfield. Darcy could not help feeling that
he'd just witnessed a tragedy.
"I am sorry for your loss, Mr.
Dashwood."
"Whatever for, Mr. Darcy?"
He gnnned. 'Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing' It has been a
tremendously entertaining evening, has it not?"

"I
cannot fathom what my own feelings would be upon losing
Pemberley," Darcy said to Elizabeth the following morning, "but nonchalance--nay,
amusement--would not number among them."

"You
never would have risked Pemberley for so ridiculous and irresponsible an end
"

She
had heard his account of Mr. Dashwood's latest exploit with all the amazement
he'd still possessed while delivering it.
The loss was as stunning as it was
stupid, not at all what she would have predicted from the master of Norland who
had eagerly led them about his house. The whole business supported her
conjecture that perhaps another influence was at work upon Harry--if not the
Mirror of Narcissus, at the very least too much brimstone.

She
poured water into the basin, splashed her face, and blindly reached for the
towel. Darcy handed it to her." I dread our call today," he said.
"I do not know what Mr. Ferrars and I shall say to him that has not
already been said, and a man who has just lost two fortunes in two days will be
unlikely to appreciate advice from any quarter."

"Perhaps
the losses will sober him--literally and figuratively."

He
made a sound of disgust. "I doubt anything can do that."

"Are
you quite certain I cannot persuade you to let me accompany you?" Since
yesterday's conversation with Professor Randolph, she had tried to devise some
means of obtaining a second look at Mr. Dashwood's mirror. Darcys report that
it was now on it's way back to London lent her hope that she might get a glimpse
of it yet.

"I
dislike the idea of your being in his house at all, even with me." He
washed his own face and accepted the towel from her. He is ungentlemanly,
unpredictable, untrustworthy, and unfit for the company of a lady--nay, any
respectable person. Rejoice in avoiding further exposure to him. I wish I
myself did not have to go "

She
supposed the morrow was too soon to expect the mirror's return anyway. She
would wait a few days to invent some pretext to call upon Mr. Dashwood. Out of
respect for Darcy's concerns, she would not visit Pall Mall alone, but she did
not plan to reveal to her husband the true reason for her errand. Darcy would
consider her entire discussion with Professor Randolph nonsense and utterly
dismiss the possibility that the mirror was anything more than a dusty old
artifact. She did not want to hear his criticisms until she'd had an
opportunity to evaluate it herself.

"Then
let us hope your sortie succeeds--and quickly, for Elinor Ferrars and I shall be
waiting most impatiently for the two of you to return with news of your
conquest."

"After
subjecting myself to Mr. Dashwood, I shall be impatient to reclaim your
superior companionship"

She
took back the cloth and dabbed a few stray droplets on his temple.
"Are you certain? You and the
reverend won't find yourselves tempted to prolong your visit and stay for one
of Mr Dashwood's notonous parties?"

He
pushed damp locks from her forehead. "I have temptation enough here at
home."

They
kissed, then broke apart to continue dressing. He selected a shirt that she had
recently made for him. She was pleased with the way it had turned out, it fit
him well across the shoulders and its sleeves extended the perfect length. A second
shirt was halfway to completion. In the weeks following Kitty's broken
engagement and the abrupt end it had brought to preparing her sister's
trousseau, Elizabeth had sought substitute em-
ployment for her needle. She'd tried to return to work on Jane's layette, but
found herself unable to muster enthusiasm for it.

At
breakfast. Elizabeth heard with restlessness the clock chime announcing that
hours yet stood between the present time and the one that had been fixed upon
for Darcy and Mr Ferrars's call in Pall Mall. She would accompany her husband
as far as St. James's, where Elinor had invited her to meet the Brandons while
they awaited the results of the gentlemen's errand.

"You
and Mrs Ferrars seem to have formed a congenial acquaintance." Darcy observed.

"I
like her very much." she replied. "She is an easy person with whom to
converse. Had Kitty's marriage taken place, my sister would have been fortunate
in her connection to Mrs. Edward Ferrars."

"And
what of her connection to Mrs Robert Ferrars?"
"Conversation with Lucy Ferrars
is easy, as well. No one else in the room need speak at all."

The
designated hour at last arrived. She and Darcy drove to the Brandons'
townhouse, where Elizabeth was shown to the drawing room and Edward Ferrars
took her place in the carriage.

Elinor's
mother, sister, and brother-in-law were gathered in the room when Elizabeth
entered. Mrs. Ferrars introduced her to Colonel and Mrs. Brandon, who welcomed
her graciously and apologized for having been otherwise occupied when she called
the previous afternoon. Elizabeth judged the former Marianne Dashwood to be
perhaps two-and-thirty, and her husband nearly twenty years older. Five
minutes' observation of the couple declared that they had married for an
affection that the intervening years had not diminished.

They
spoke the pleasant nothings that fill the conversations of people first
meeting, until Mrs. Brandon grew obviously weary of empty chatter and cut to
the subject on all of their minds.

"I
understand your husband accompanies Edward to try to save our nephew from
himself," she said.

Elizabeth
appreciated her directness and returned it. "I am afraid we cherish little
expectation of prevailing upon him. Mr. Darcy attempted to guide Mr. Dashwood
while he and my sister were still engaged, without success, and their
acquaintance has become less cordial since. With Mr. Ferrars's aid, however, perhaps
Mr Dashwood may be worked upon. We can but hope, especially following last
night's debacle."

Marianne
and the others regarded her in ignorance. "Something more occurred last
night?"

Elizabeth
felt the blood drain from her face. She had assumed someone would have informed
Harry's relations by now that he had lost the estate they had once called home.
She certainly did not want to he the bearer of tidings that would so shock and
grieve these good-hearted people.

Fortunately,
she was spared the unpleasant office by the timely arrival of Mrs. Robert
Ferrars. who did not even allow the housekeeper to finish announcing her before
bursting into the room with exclamations of astonishment and condolence.
"My dear Elinor and Marianne!
Dear Mrs. Dashwood! I came the moment I heard about Norland. How devastated you
must be!"

Had
anyone else appeared so conveniently, Elizabeth would have marveled at the
coincidence. But Lucy Ferrars was like the herald of a Greek tragedy, invested
by her creator with the ability to enter a scene just when her communication
could provide its most dramatic result. If only she would then exit as quickly,
instead of staying on like a chorus to comment on her revelations, her
dedication to performing the office might earn
her more appreciation.

All
the room regarded her with dread--most in apprehension of what they were about
to hear, Elizabeth in anticipation of its effect.

"We
have received no news of Norland today," Elinor said.
"Be so land as to enlighten
us."

"Why.
I can't believe you haven't heard! Harry
lost Norland! Gambled it away in a card game to Lord Lovejoy. The whole estate!"

Marianne
gasped "Norland--gone?" She looked to her mother "I cannot
conceive of it. Strangers in our home?" She turned her gaze back to Lucy.
"You are quite certain? There has been
no mistake? You know how the ton--"
"Oh, I'm certain! I had it from
Harry himself"
Elizabeth wondered what occasion
Lucy would have had to see Mr. Dashwood already today, but given the magnetic
pull between her and tidings of misfortune, some meeting between them in the
wake of Harry's ill-fated whist game had probably been inevitable.

Mrs.
Dashwood looked as if she'd been struck. "I am thankful Henry and Uncle
Albert are not alive to witness this," she said quietly "What an ungrateful
child John and Fanny raised."

"Yes.
poor Fanny!" said Lucy, oblivious to the fact that Mrs. Dashwood had been
ascribing some of the responsibility to Harry's parents. "As a mother, my
heart just breaks for her. Don't all of yours? Well--not yours, Mrs Darcy. since
you don't have any children. But if you were in the family way like your elder
sister, I'm sure you'd understand."
Elizabeth smiled thinly and said
nothing. The last person from whom she cared to hear observations about her
family state was Lucy Ferrars.

"Thank
heavens Fanny disinherited him before he could gamble away her fortune, too,"
Lucy continued. "Mrs Darcy, your younger sister is well rid of Harry. I'm
relieved that Regina avoided connection with him. I suspected he was developing
an attachment to her, but obviously that will be most soundly discouraged now.
Besides, she has so many gentlemen
pursuing her that she hardly need settle for her own cousin. "
Elizabeth, still vexed by Lucy's
earlier remark, could not let this one pass unchallenged. "Indeed? I don't
recall Miss Ferrars ever mentioning a suitor."

"Why,
we had so many callers yesterday we could paper the parlor with their
cards."

Fanny's
bequest had evidently transformed Regina into a more eligible commodity in the
marriage market. Elizabeth wondered if her newly enhanced dowry would prove
enough to make up for inheriting Lucy Ferrars as a mother-in-law.

"Had
you not better return home soon, then," Elinor suggested. "In case a
caller appears whom Regina would like to receive?"

Elizabeth
knew there was a reason she liked Elinor.

"No.
I've told her a gentleman must come three limes before we'll admit him--to prove
he's serious." She rose. "But I do need to supervise her toilette. We
are going to Almack's tonight"

She
made as dramatic an exit as possible given that no one in her audience took
interest in watching it. Her departure did, however, occasion a collective
expression of relief on the part of those remaining.

"Norland--lost!"
Marianne said as the curtain fell on Lucy's performance. "I still can
scarcely comprehend it. I hope Edward is soundly lecturing Harry this minute.
Though what further evil our nephew can commit, I cannot imagine."

"Nor
can I," Elinor said. "But I am sure that if he gets himself into any
more trouble, Lucy will most thoughtfully keep us informed."

Twenty Three

When people are determined on a mode of conduct which
they know to be wrong, they feel injured by the expectation of anything better
from them.

Sense and Sensibility,
Chapter 2

"Mr.
Ferrars and Mr. Darcy" Mr. Dashwood repeated his servant's announcement.
"Come to call on me together. How congenial."
Harry received them in his dining
room, where he sat behind large dish of ice cream. Though the glace looked
appealing on this warm June afternoon, Darcy begrudged Mr. Dashwood the simple
pleasure of it. In sacrificing his estate so capriciously he had injured not
just himself and his family, but all those who relied on Norland for their
livelihoods. One ought not, it seemed to Darcy, taste anything but remorse on
the day following a dere-
iction of duty and honor such as he had committed.

"Your
uncle and I share a common purpose this afternoon."
"I would invite you to
sit," Harry said, "but that would suggest that I want you to stay. Which
I do not." He swallowed a spoonful of ice cream.
"You are come, I suppose, to admonish me once more for my wicked
ways? You should have saved yourselves the trouble. I have heard enough already
from you, Mr. Darcy, and from your wife, Mr. Ferrars."

Edward
appeared puzzled. "Elinor has been in contact with you?"

The
spoon paused halfway to Mr. Dashwood's mouth. "Forgive me, I meant my
other aunt Ferrars. One loses track of them."