Page 9 of The Heir and Spare
They looked lovely. There was something extra rosy about Miss Mary. He smiled to himself. Perhaps there was already an interest for her? He hoped so. She seemed rather lovely, if awkward and perhaps unsure. And she seemed to deserve good things. Though he wasn’t certain Lord Perceval provided. He frowned.
And then Miss Elizabeth gasped and turned from him.
He’d been looking in their direction still with the frown on his face. He quickly replaced it with a more placid and engaging expression, but it was too late. Miss Elizabeth whispered to Miss Mary, and they both hurried off toward the stairs at the other end of the hall. So much reaction from a frown on his face. Though he supposed it wasn’t pleasant to feel as though a man was frowning at you. She’d frowned at him on several occasions.
He arrived down in the sitting room outside the dining room to gather for dinner. Many more of the guests had also arrived and he had a moment of his earlier boyhood nerves. His chest tightened and the air around him became more difficult to breathe.
Miss Elizabeth shared a glance with him, a flash of concern perhaps for him gave him a dose of courage. But she looked away as quickly and he wondered if he’d imagined her sudden empathy. How could she even know how he felt from so far away?
The footman announced, “Mr. Arthur Darcy of Pemberley.”
The room grew quiet and as he always dreaded, many eyes turned to him. But the women did not have the typical mercenary gleam. Perhaps they were outside of the London crowd enough to have not heard of Pemberley?
One woman stepped up immediately. Their host stood at her side though he seemed somewhat reluctant. Darcy foundthat amusing. “Lord Shackley. You have what promises to be a diverting house party.”
“Thank you. Yes, it all begins, doesn’t it?”
The woman at his right cleared her throat.
“Might I present Miss Lilly? She hails from a small borough almost to Brighton.”
She curtseyed deep and low and fluttered her eyelashes.
He did not see the appeal of the eyelash fluttering. But he knew it to be a sign that she was interested enough to attract his attention. So he reached for her hand and bowed over it. “And I’m Mr. Darcy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her other hand immediately went to fluttering about at her chest, another thing women often did. And what did that fluttering mean? Was she nervous? Scared? Happy?
Her giggles seemed to indicate happiness.
But the fluttering. Her expression looked more ill at ease than anything.
“The pleasure is mine, certainly. To think I’d meet someone from Derbyshire. I never thought to ever even leave our small situation, perhaps a season in Brighton, maybe Bath, but never… She put a hand on her mouth. “I talk too much. I already know I do. I shall attempt to pretend that this is all normal for me, that I see great lords of grand estates every day.” She swallowed, though it seemed difficult. “Forgive me.” Her face burned a beet-red and sweat formed on her brow.
He reached for his handkerchief. “Be at ease, Miss Lilly. We seem a friendly enough group. Lord Shackley would not have the other sorts in his home, I’d imagine.”
She nodded. “Thank you.” She dabbed her face with his handkerchief and was about to hand it back but Lord Shackley cleared his throat and when she caught his gaze, he shook his head.
So she tucked it in a small reticule she had hanging at her wrist. “I just don’t know how I’ll remember to stop talking. I get started when I’m nervous. And Mama always says the other people need a chance. And she also says that a man doesn’t really want to hear all the things in my head. He only wants to know a few. He mostly wants to tell me what’s in his head. And…” She sighed. “And there I go again.”
Darcy became a bit more charmed. Here was an innocent creature. He’d thought her mercenary but truly she didn’t have any experience at all in Society, that he could see. “Perhaps you should just be yourself. Mamas mean well, but sometimes they might make things more difficult than they need to be.”
She nodded and seemed to bite back whatever might be itching to come pouring forth. He laughed to himself. “Shall we meet some others?” He indicated that Lord Shackley should lead the way, and he held his arm for Miss Lilly to take. She sucked in her breath and fluttered a bit more but to her credit, said nothing. Her nod was almost regal as she placed her hand on his arm. Her innocence was refreshing after the expert manipulations of many of the women he came in contact with.
They turned to a man at Darcy’s left. “This is Lord Devering; comes from an estate in the far north of England, if you can believe it. We are fortunate he would travel so far.”
He nodded.
“This is Mr. Darcy and Miss Lilly.”
Darcy held out his hand. The man shook it briefly, his face hardly evoking more than a slight tremor in his lips that might have become a smile if he were to nurture the motion a bit more.
Miss Lilly giggled again. “A lord. Goodness.” Her mumbling was perhaps not heard by the noble in question but Mr. Darcy’s eyes lit with amusement.
To his credit, Lord Devering did kiss the proffered hand and bowed smartly.
Miss Lilly and Lord Devering commenced some form of conversation. Miss Elizabeth was surrounded. Joint laughter sounded and her face beamed.
He was enchanted yet again. If only to have such happiness directed at him. What would it take to win over her appreciation? Was it worth the effort? What if she were the type of woman to be pleasant when necessary but behind the closed doors of any home, she would be tiresome at best. She just didn’t seem like the type to play harpy at home. Not with such expressive eyes, not with such a ready laugh. Nothing about her was forced. He could appreciate her sincerity, certainly, even if it meant seeing a less pleasant side to herself.
