Page 34 of Lord Lonbourn's Daughter
The breakfast parlour was full of occupants who seemed nearly finished with their meal.
“Good morning!” He smiled, abashed.
“Good morning,” Elizabeth replied swiftly, but she did not smile at him as she had done the previous morning. She looked tired, like she had not slept well at all, which was not so strange taking their current circumstances into consideration. He had failed her, been too tied up with his own concerns to be of any comfort to his wife. Worse yet, he had little enough time torectify it with everything he had to sort out before the day was over. What he could do was show interest in her concerns.
“How is Lady Kitty faring today?” Darcy enquired.
“She is still asleep,” Elizabeth informed him with concern etched on her face.
“I hope you will give her my regards when she awakens.” He tried to keep his own worries from his voice.
“Are you leaving so soon?”
“Yes, I am afraid I must. I have an appointment with Mr Bingley.”
Which was true but was not the whole truth. He squirmed in his seat; deceit of any kind was abhorrent to him, even by evasion. Darcy left his wife before he had to perjure himself any further and entered White’s an hour before he was due to meet Bingley. He found a seat at a table and opened his paper, appearing to read while his ears were fixed on the gossip floating round the room. He had not read many paragraphs before an unwelcome guest flung himself down at his table.
“Good morning, Darcy, have you eaten?”
“Yes, I breakfasted at home.” Darcy rattled his paper in the hope of discouraging the man from conversation.
“Feeding the eyes in town but eating at home, are we?”
Mr Davies had the audacity to wink at him before his eyes followed an extraordinarily fine example of the female form, passing outside the window.
“Ah, the blessings of a newly wedded gentleman,” the man said sighing in contentment. Mr Davies had no reason to know as he had never entered the wedded state himself, compelling Darcy to limit his reply to a scowl. The parson’s son had moredebts than possessions and was by no means a person he would call a friend—nor a gentleman.
The door opened, and a hush fell over the room. Darcy did not need to turn to know that his first appointment had arrived. Lord Lucius Hazard suited his name perfectly; he was a renowned gambler, a rake, and an excellent rider whose reputation was known far and wide. He was reputed to have participated in and won several duels on the field of honour, but a gentleman would never kiss and tell.
He frowned at Mr Davies, who immediately understood. The parson’s son rose and excused himself to offer the newcomer his seat.
“I did not take you for a gambler, Darcy,” Lord Hazard pronounced in his low, rumbling voice. “I was rather surprised by your request.”
“I have been known to take the occasional bet here at White’s,” he protested. It would not do to raise too many questions.
“Mistake me not, Darcy. Your challenge is accepted, but I thought a hundred guineas was a little stingy for a wealthy gentleman like yourself. I thought a thousand would be more of an incentive to beat you.”
“Agreed,” he replied as indifferently as he could muster. His sister’s life depended upon Lord Hazard’s acceptance.
“That was easy. Perhaps I should have asked for ten thousand,” the man taunted him.
“You will have to beat me first, and I shall receive the same if I beat you!”
Lord Hazard barked a laugh. “That will never happen! You know it as well as I… Now, where do you want to suffer your defeat?”
“Gentleman Jackson’s?” Darcy needed the fight to gain notice. “Preferably before the fashionable hour. Would ten o’clock in the morning be too early?”
“No, I shall not yet have gone to bed. When?”
“Wednesday.”
“Let us write it down in the book. That way you cannot wriggle yourself out of it should your current bravery fail you.”
Darcy did not deign to acknowledge the insult with an answer.
The gentlemen both went to the betting book and jotted down:
Mr Darcy bets Lord Hazard 1000 gs to 1000 gs that he can beat him at pugilism. The fight will take place at Gentleman Jackson’s on May 20th, 1812.
