Chapter 38

38

E lizabeth knew she must speak carefully, but she did not want to miss any of the moves, and it would be rude to ignore him.

"Sir, I do not wish to miss any of this match, as I hope to discern your cousin's strategies in preparation for the possible opportunity to play against him. I pray you will agree to postpone this discussion."

She was surprised at his quiet chuckle, when she had expected a huff of annoyance. Perhaps she did not know him as well as she had thought.

But it was the presence and intransigence of men which had meant she was sitting here without having had the benefit of a walk out today, and her body was feeling the lack.

It would not do to let a man, even a wealthy man, through her distrustful defences. If she was proved wrong in trusting someone, it would be too late; she would be bound to him for life. No. She must be certain; even though in her heart she knew she did not want to be without the opportunity of marriage and children, whatever she had said to Charlotte and Papa.

She shook her head; she was missing the moves, even though Mr. Darcy had respected her request not to have a conversation.

The colonel's movements were becoming jerky; he ran his hands distractedly through his hair, and then he stopped, took a very deep breath and looked up to meet his opponent's steady gaze.

Papa's eyebrow rose. "Fresh coffee while you consider the play, Colonel?"

At the colonel's nod, Elizabeth rose to her feet, and slipped out of the room to order the trays be refreshed. When she returned, there was silence in the room, apart from occasional muttering from the colonel's side of the board. Papa was still concentrating, obviously planning several different strategies, depending on which way the game went.

She tipped her head on one side, looking at the board and turning it in her mind to see all options. The patterns were like music, and she was able to see very clearly what each player ought to do.

Papa glanced up at her. "Do not put me off, Elizabeth. I know you can see a better way for me, but allow me to make my own mistakes."

She blushed and looked down, but knew the colonel glanced at her and then back at Papa. "Mistakes? I cannot see you have made any !" His frustration was evident in his voice, and Elizabeth could sense Mr. Darcy's amusement beside her.

It was another ten minutes before the colonel made his next move, and Bennet gave him no quarter, making his response within seconds. But his opponent had obviously planned several moves ahead, and there was a quick exchange of moves and some valuable pieces lost on each side — a deliberate sacrifice on Papa's part.

"Gah!!!"

Elizabeth had been expecting the colonel's exclamation and was able to keep completely still. Mr. Darcy, however, had not, and his startled movement almost made her laugh.

"You were not supposed to do that!" The colonel seemed to have finally believed that he could not win, and his chagrin was clear. He leaned forward to tip his king over, but Papa reached out a hand and stayed him.

"Elizabeth, can you see how to win from there?" Papa smiled at her, then looked back at the colonel.

"I find it illuminating to have my daughter beat me thoroughly from an impossible game setting."

"Papa," Elizabeth remonstrated. "That is neither fair nor kind for a player who is new to you."

The colonel's eyes bulged. "Are you able to see the way forward, Miss Elizabeth?"

She knew Mr. Darcy was staring at her, too, but she would not admit it — or tell a lie.

"You played an excellent match, sir. I am sure at your next meeting with Papa, you will not fall for his unorthodox moves!"

The colonel's eyes narrowed. "I am conscious you have not answered my question, Miss Elizabeth."

"And I am aware that I am not obliged to, sir," she replied coolly and with as much equanimity as she could. "I am sure Papa can see it, too, so I suggest you turn the board round and let him play the white side." She rose to her feet, and spoke to all the gentlemen. "Since the hour is now late, I will ask Mama to have extra places set for dinner, and arrange that the footmen are ready to take torches with you to light your way home afterwards."

She knew there would be dissent, so she hastily opened the door and left the room, smiling to herself.

Five minutes later, she shut herself in her chamber, berating herself. Why, oh why, did she have to tease them like that? She ought to have said no, she could not see how to win. Keeping Santorio's secret had needed her to lie in the past, so why had she not tossed off a light lie tonight?

She knew, really, and threw herself across the bed. It was her own pride that would not let her hide her skill. She had denigrated Mr. Darcy for his pride and arrogance, and now she wondered if she was as proud as he was.

Was she arrogant, too? Certainly she took pride in her playing, in her singing, and her composing — and also in her skill at chess; it was an unusual skill for a gentlewoman.

Tears started to her eyes. By not hiding these things more carefully, she was making the men more suspicious.

Santorio must not be discovered. Santorio must not be discovered.

That mantra had served her well so far. She must heed it more; must remember it was the most important thing — far more important than impressing wealthy gentlemen who had come to the area.

Perhaps it would repair things if she did not sing again in front of anyone new to the area, or play chess unless it was just she and Papa alone. And perhaps when she played the piano, she ought to play mostly other composers rather than Santorio.

But Georgiana was likely to call tomorrow and she would not understand why they could not do as they had yesterday.

She lay on her bed, careful not to crease her gown, and put her hands behind her head. How could she explain to Georgiana why she was taking this stance? The girl was very young — not yet out — and although Lydia probably matched her in age, her sister was more aware. It was obvious that Georgiana's naiveté would make it hard for her to comprehend what Elizabeth explained to her.

But it might be that it would be a good lesson for her — an explanation that things such as beauty, talent and wealth would make it harder to know the heart of a man.

Elizabeth rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed. It was a lesson she wished Lydia could learn. She stretched; knowing the Netherfield gentlemen would be dining here was not a cheerful thought. Could she ask for a tray in her chamber? No. Mama would not countenance such rudeness.

Perhaps she could claim to be indisposed. But then she could hardly ask for a tray. And she was hungry, even though she had not walked out today.

The sound of horses drew her attention, and she went to the window, concealing herself as far as possible behind the curtain. It was the three gentlemen and several grooms holding flaming torches aloft who would walk ahead to Netherfield.

She smiled; Mama would not be pleased, having arranged extra places at the table and then not needing them. But she could go down for dinner. After the gentlemen were well gone.

Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door and a maid nervously put her head round. "Miss Elizabeth, the master asks if you could go his bookroom before dinner?"

She huffed a laugh and hurried downstairs. "Well, Papa, did you damage the colonel's pride further?"

"I hope not." Her father shook his head. "I was not about to play his side further, but he said it would be a benefit to him if he was able to observe how it was possible to improve his skills further." He crossed the room to sit opposite her in the comfortable chairs until they were called through. "I think it was as well that you didn't teach him such a salutary lesson, though. It must have been hard enough for it to be me, let alone a young lady who was new to his acquaintance."

Elizabeth nodded. "I thought that. But, Papa, I am also concerned that he and Mr. Darcy are too clever not to try to discover me. I was thinking just now that I might do well not to sing, or play chess, or even play much while those new to the area are here."

‘I think you will find that difficult, if it is even possible," Papa's gaze was sorrowful. "I think I may need to send you to London, my dear, sad though I am to lose you. You can return for the wedding with your aunt and uncle and then go back with them. I am also almost decided to send Kitty and Lydia to school until the militia leave."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "And there is another thing. Mr. Darcy knows Uncle Gardiner as Santorio's publisher. He will recognise him — or at least his name — at the wedding. I cannot think he will not then be suspicious and connect it with my secret."

Papa winced. "I suppose Mr. Darcy will be here for the wedding, as Bingley is his friend. And your aunt and uncle must be here for Jane."

He sat silent for long moments, his chin cupped in his hands.

Elizabeth looked anxiously at him. "Papa?" she said hesitantly. "You've always said Santorio must not be discovered. Drummed it into me from the earliest days. Surely there is something we can do?"

The call to dine came sooner than either wanted, and Papa shrugged. "We must both consider carefully the choices we have, little Lizzy. But it must not come as a surprise to Mr. Darcy when he actually meets your uncle. Early tomorrow, we will meet again and plan what we can."