Page 5 of The Heir and Spare
She held up the title page. “It’s calledPride and Prejudice.” She ginned. “And so far, the hero is the most unlikable creature. But he has potential.” She tapped her finger on her lips. “I should not mind a curmudgeonly type of person if I understood him.” She lifted the book again then paused. “As long as he was kind, in his heart; kind but a little bit grumpy? That would be all right.”
Lizzie laughed. “What an odd and very Mary thing to say.” She didn’t know how much she’d want to marry a disagreeable man. The insult from earlier did not sting as much as it had, but she was still struck by how much a rejection like that with harsh words could affect her. No, she was not hoping to find a disagreeable man. Hopefully she would be enough for whoever was at the house party. They did not have to marry after all, or even dance perhaps. But they would be paired off doing activities together, presumably. She’d asked about house parties and all her mother could remember was that they were planned out carefully with fun diversions for the guests, and seating for meals and the numbers were typically even, so there would be men there, single men. And perhaps new friends in the women. She needed the diversion. She was not perhaps as desperate as Mary, but she was more than grateful to be rid of Mr. Darcy andhis critical eye and rejections. It had affected her more than she realized.
At any rate, ready or not, they would be arriving in an hour or two. They were not too far from home which also brought some semblance of comfort. If it turned out to be full of disagreeable and grumpy people, she and Mary could leave no matter how much her sister was appreciating the grumpy but kind men. She laughed to herself. “Dear Mary. We shall have an adventure of it, that much I can promise.”
Mary hugged her book closer and Elizabeth looked out over the top of her head to watch the green hills out the window as their carriage made it slowly down the road toward Lord Shackley’s estate. Yes, an adventure indeed.
Chapter 4
Arthur Darcy
Arthur arrived at Lord Shackley’s early in the afternoon. The activities weren’t supposed to begin until evening, but he liked to situate himself, and he had some correspondence to take care of before the other guests arrived. Besides, he also hoped to re-acquaint himself with the elusive Lord Shackley. What had he been doing with himself these past quieter years? How had he thought anew of Arthur, and why was he invited? He smiled to himself. All things he hoped to know from the host who had not yet shown himself.
He'd been taken excellent care of even so. The servants had led him to a lovely well-appointed room with a view of the expansive property and the front drive. He’d refreshed himself, his valet had unpacked his things and settled in the extra room attached to his closet. It was all very convenient and comfortable. He was pleased indeed.
A maid scratched at the door and his valet opened it, bringing in a tray. “For your enjoyment. Dinner will be later this evening.”
“Thank you.” Darcy smiled. This was very comfortable indeed. “My gratitude to our host.”
Sounds of a carriage arriving caught his attention. “Ah.” He stood at the window. He also had a clear and easy view of every arriving guest. His curiosity was definitely piqued. Who did Lord Shackley know? Who would Darcy be sharing the house party with?
The carriage seemed old, but well taken care of, the horses a fine team. He stepped closer to the window as the equipage stopped just below. Would he see the people stepping down?
Two bonnets descended the carriage steps, one at a time. They were colorful, prettily dressed as all women were, but Darcy could ascertain nothing else about them. He was about to step back from the window to continue his final letter when one of them looked up and met his eyes. He froze. Caught staring? But her expression captured him. She was curious, intelligent, light, and something more, something fleeting as though she might be off and running through a field if left to her own devices. She held his gaze but a moment more, and then her mouth dropped and she frowned. Whipping her skirts about her, she tugged on her companion and then entered the house with firm and hurried steps.
What on earth had that been about? Did he know her? How could he? And he knew of no women who would frown so openly at him. He’d not offended any that he knew. Perhaps, despite his initial interest in her upturned mouth and pert nose, she was not as pleasant as he hoped.
He stepped back from the window as their trunks were unloaded. He’d be wary of her until he knew more, certainly.
His tray of food was delicious; fine cheeses, chocolate even, strong tea and a selection of fine tarts that dissolved on his tongue. It was rare to find a chef as good as the one they’d convinced to join them at Pemberley from France. But here Lord Shackley had fine food. And Arthur hadn’t known how much hecared for fine food until he found it outside his home. He dabbed his mouth. Yes, it was a treat indeed.
There was a knock at his door. When he opened it, a footman bowed. “The pleasure of your attention is requested in Lord Shackley’s east library, if it pleases you.”
“Excellent.” Arthur was good and ready to see any library this man might have. “Lead the way.”
“Very good, Mr. Darcy.”
A soft gasp captured his attention from down the hall but when he looked, he saw only closed doors. He brushed off his shoulder one time, more out of habit than anything. His valet would never let him be dressed in anything other than the finest cared-for articles of clothing, even though Arthur insisted that he use them to their point of breaking before acquiring new garments. He did not wish to waste. His brother did enough of that.
He walked down well-worn wood floors that shined with care, slightly uneven beneath his feet. The walls were lit by candles in sconces; now and then a bundle of flowers filled the hall with a fresh aroma. Did they have a greenhouse? Where were they cultivating the flowers? He’d have to explore the gardens. He was most interested in all things out of doors, naturally. And in the library of course. And in their host.
He had high hopes to meet a lovely country girl as well, but the frowning one doused his excitement somewhat. He did not wish to be fooled by a smiling miss who frowned at strangers.
Memories from his childhood he tried not to relive clouded his brain. There was no need to think of his mother’s bouts with the blues and the angries. He didn’t know what else to call them. His nurse had been a godsend and had made a game of it. “Be careful, the angries are out. Best to stay put for the morning.” But when his mother let her emotions overtake her judgment, she was a different person indeed. And he had tried to steer clearof her path but had been caught in her fire enough times to know he did not wish to experience the cruel and illogical wrath of any other woman.
Luckily his sister was everything that was good and sweet natured. She was giving and hopeful and full of innocent caring. He’d love for someone with even a bit more challenge in her voice, with wit and daring—but kindness. Always kindness.
He shook his head. Perhaps this was not the week to find such a woman but it was definitely time for him to start looking, to make a real effort in that direction at least. It would do his sister Georgiana well and perhaps rid his thoughts of the echoes of what should be there. Always missing someone, always a hole where someone should be. Arthur was lonely. It came down to something as simple as that. He was lonely.
They approached a bright and airy opened doorway where sunlight spilled out into the hall. He liked the room already.
The servant entered ahead of him to announce, “A Mr. Arthur Darcy, my lord.” With a bow, he turned to leave them be.
Arthur stepped into the room and bowed to a wizened older man with a bright smile. “Lord Shackley.” When he rose, the man stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Darcy, good to see you.”
“You as well, my lord. I only wish I could be giving you the well wishes from my father. But surely he would be happy to see a valued acquaintance renewed. He enjoyed your conversations, I know that.”
“Yes, he was a dear friend, a challenging intellect and an excellent conversationalist.”
