Page 8 of The Wager
“The only thing I would miss is dancing. I do so love to dance.”
“Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy has arrived, my lady,” the butler said upon opening the parlor door. “Are you home to visitors this morning?”
Aunt Sarah looked at Elizabeth who ever so slightly shrugged her slim shoulders. Taking the gesture as a tacit agreement she would meet him, the marchioness said, “We are home to Mr. Darcy.”
The butler withdrew with a respectful bow.
“You do not have to see the gentleman if you do not wish to, however, he has come to apologize, proving he is not completely bereft of good manners.”
“From the first moment I laid eyes on him, I witnessed a selfish disdain for the feelings of others.” Her aunt briefly closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. Upon witnessing the lady’s discomfort, Elizabeth sighed. “I shall see him, Aunt Sarah. My only hope is that he does not tarry long. I am in no mood to tolerate men with overblown egos.”
It was at that exact moment Mr. Darcy entered the room, a dull red tingeing the tips of his ears the only indication he had heard some, if not all of her comments.
“Lady Sarah, Lady Elizabeth,” he said with a stiff bow.
“Good afternoon, Fitzwilliam.”
Aunt Sarah invited him to take a seat, and it did not escape Elizabeth’s attention that he took the farthest one from her. She held back a sniff of disgust. Fine by her, she did not want to sit next to the odious man anyway, even if he was so handsome her stomach clenched. If the raised brow on her aunt’s face was any indicator, she had also noticed.
“Would you care for some tea?”
“No, thank you. I cannot stay long; I have another appointment.” Mr. Darcy shifted in the chair, clearly uncomfortable in their company. “I must apologize to you, Lady Elizabeth. My comments last night were uncomplimentary and uncalled for. My parents, were they still alive, would have been sorely disappointed in my behavior.”
“Your apology is acceptable, Mr. Darcy.”
But the insult is not forgotten, she thought to herself and restrained from saying anything more. Realizing she was not going to expand on her comment or demand anything further, he stood and addressed her aunt.
“I would like to extend a dinner invitation to you and your husband for tomorrow evening, along with your niece. To waylay the gossip, we can present a unified front and show there is no rancor between us.” His expression turned apologetic. “I regret the short notice, but I am leaving town the day following to visit my sister in Ramsgate and this was the only evening I had open.”
“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Darcy, but I return home tomorrow and cannot attend your dinner party,” Elizabeth offered in a bright voice.
She made no effort to conceal the fact she was glad she could refuse his loathsome offer.
“Sad, but true,” her aunt said, sending a look of warning toward her niece. “However, if the offer still stands for my husband and me, we can attend and will drop helpful hints that everything is smooth sailing from our end.”
“Thank you, Lady Courtland.” Mr. Darcy gave her aunt a slight nod of his head and turned to Elizabeth, giving her a proper half-bow. “I bid you a good day and safe travels, Lady Elizabeth.”
She also stood and returned his bow with a half curtsy.
“Thank you, and you as well, Mr. Darcy.”
He executed a perfect pivot on his heel and quit the room.
“Odious man!” Elizabeth huffed out as soon as the door closed. “Cousin or not, I do not believe that puffed-up peacock meant one single word of his apology.”
“A peacock he is not, my dear. Do not let your festering anger blind you to the man’s good qualities.”
Aunt Sarah had resumed her seat and now sipped her tea, which had most assuredly gone tepid. Elizabeth paced a few more times before retaking her abandoned seat.
“I am aware you like this gentleman, the warmth of your voice when you first greeted him last time paid testament to this fact.”
“I do like him, Elizabeth.” Aunt Sarah set down her teacup. “For the longest time, I held onto a faint hope he would turn his attention toward Sophia.”
“Your daughter has had her eye on Mr. McCallister from the time she could finally abandon her braids and wear her hair up. No other but him will do for Sophia.”
“What you say is true.” Her aunt studied the pattern of her bone-china teacup, clearly deep in thought. “I wonder how the night would have gone if she had attended the ball with us instead of the theater with Celia?”
“I am certain Mr. Darcy would have found another way to insult me, dear aunt. I truly do not believe he thinks me worth his notice, title or not.”
