Page 85 of The Briar Bargain
"Sound reasoning."
"I thought so." Bingley settled into the chair opposite and began shuffling the cards.
"Remind me of the rules?"
"The rules are delightfully simple, which recommends it further. We each receive half the deck, and we play our cards in turn without looking at them first. The object is to win all the cards, naturally."
Darcy accepted his portion of the deck and placed it face down before him. "And how does one accomplish this feat?"
"Patience and picture cards," Bingley replied. "When a picture card appears, the other fellow must pay a penalty. Four cards for an ace, three for a king, two for a queen, one for a jack. But here is the clever bit. If in paying that penalty another picture card is revealed, the debt reverses."
"I see. So the queen might rescue the unfortunate soul who faces a king."
"Precisely. Though she might just as easily doom him, depending on what follows." Bingley placed his first card. A seven. "Your turn."
Darcy flipped a card without ceremony. "Nine."
"Three," Bingley countered, and they continued in this fashion for several minutes, the steady rhythm of cards meeting table providing a companionable backdrop to their conversation while Darcy waited for Bingley to tell him what had happened with his sister.
The game was, he reflected, remarkably soothing. There was something to be said for a contest that required no great thought, no careful calculation of odds or reading of expressions. One simply played what chance provided and accepted the consequences. He preferred games of skill, but perhaps for this evening, Bingley had chosen well.
"Jack," Bingley announced with satisfaction. "One penalty card, if you please."
Darcy obliged, turning over the top card from his pile. "Queen."
"Blast." Bingley's face fell comically. "Two cards to you, then."
As Bingley counted out his penalty, he glanced up with an expression that suggested he was weighing his words. "I should mention that Miss Bennet has accepted my proposal."
Darcy paused in the act of gathering his winnings. "I was wondering whether you were ever going to inform me."
"Well, Louisa said you were aware, but I have told you now." Bingley's grin was unrepentant. "Once Miss Bennet accepted, I found myself rather focused on what comes next, preparing for tomorrow's interview with her father."
Darcy waited, as his own card, a ten, joined the growing pile.
"I should like you to stand up with me, provided her father gives his consent. I can think of no one else I would rather have beside me on such an occasion."
The request was not unexpected, yet it touched Darcy deeply. "It would be my honour."
"Excellent. Though I warn you, the breakfast may involve dancing. Louisa has already begun making lists."
"I shall endeavour to prepare myself for the ordeal. Congratulations, Bingley." Darcy turned over the top card from his pile. "And queen."
"Blast again." Bingley's face fell comically.
As Bingley counted out his penalty, Darcy found himself comparing this moment to whist with Miss Elizabeth and the Hursts. Bingley played with the same good-natured enthusiasm he brought to everything, but there was no hidden meaning in his choices, no sense that each card revealed something essential about the man who played it. Hurst had not been playing seriously, of course. He was only serious about cards when it included financial stakes. But Darcy had learned a great deal about Miss Elizabeth.
She had been an excellent partner. She had not understood one of his moves—her brows had lifted in confusion as she looked at his card. But she had followed his lead, and he had exulted. Not because they had then won the trick, but because she trusted him.
There were no such revelations here. Fortunately, he did not need them with Bingley.
"You are wool-gathering." Bingley placed a four upon the growing pile. "I can tell because you have that expression you wear when you are thinking of something you would rather not be thinking of. Is it the dancing?"
Darcy was not displeased. He had been thinking of a certain young woman who might make a very fine dance partner. "I was merely noting the differences between this game and others I have played recently."
"Ah." Bingley's eyes gleamed with understanding. "Would this comparison involve a certain young lady who has a talent for making even the most mundane activities seem celebratory?"
Bingley was almost ebullient now. Darcy gave him a sharp look. "I am sure I do not know what you mean."
