Chapter Nine

R otten Row was very busy and very cold. It was fortunate that both she and Jane had been forewarned. They had donned their long pelisses for their journey to the lecture and would have the muffs and cloaks besides. Lady Carlisle had even presented them both with matching, rather jaunty fur-lined hats, each adorned with a single feather.

Had Amelia been here the effect would have been even greater, but Elizabeth had to admit the countess knew how to present a young lady to her best advantage.

Mr. Darcy had stepped away to give instructions to his own driver, and by the time he entered the carriage to sit on the rear-facing bench, they were warmly attired. He did not really look at them until he was seated, but then he looked up and Elizabeth saw something in his expression she could not account for—a brief, stunned glance.

It vanished the next moment, however, and Elizabeth supposed he had recognised how beautiful Jane was. If he wanted to know her sister better, however, he would have to take his place in line. Mr. Bingley, Baron Neumann, and Mr. Fredericks were all there before him. Even Viscount Fellington had not entirely moved on .

She hoped Mr. Darcy was interested in Jane. It would serve him right to have to compete for her attention.

Even as she thought it, her heart pinched painfully. She still did not understand why he treated her so poorly. While she knew she was not as handsome as Jane, that was hardly a black mark against her, for who was? And surely he had seen the absurdity of declaring her a fortune hunter as though it was something unique to the ton. She laced her fingers together inside her muff and looked determinedly out the window.

No rain today. In fact, it was clear, with a light blue sky and a weakening winter sun. Still, to have any sunlight at all this time of year meant that more people than might normally make the trip to Hyde Park this early in the season were here today, crowding the paths and showing off their furs and other finery.

"Mr. Darcy," Lady Carlisle said, "do you often find yourself in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour?"

"Not often, my lady, no."

He did not elaborate, and Elizabeth felt a sort of giddy satisfaction that he should be showing his poor manners to everyone, not only to her. But Lady Carlisle did not seem put off.

When they arrived, and the roof had been folded back, the cold nipped at her nose and Elizabeth was grateful for her warm clothing. She set her hat jauntily on the back of her head, making certain it covered the tops of her ears, and buried her hands in her muff.

"Oh, there are the Loughtys," Jane said, and nodded in recognition.

Miss Loughty smiled at them as her driver brought her alongside. "Lady Carlisle, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled. "Miss Loughty, this is Mr. Darcy. And I presume you have all met Mr. Loughty? "

Mr. Loughty sat on the rear-facing bench. For once, he said nothing, but he touched the brim of his hat as his eyes moved rapaciously between Mr. Darcy and herself. Then he recalled that Jane was in the coach, and his expression clouded over. Elizabeth suspected he was trying to work out which sister Mr. Darcy was interested in.

Neither, she thought, for he could not seriously be interested in Jane when he had never spoken more than a few words to her. She wondered why he had come at all. A gentleman such as he could excuse himself, even if invited by a countess.

"Mr. Darcy," Miss Loughty said politely before turning her attention to Elizabeth. "Miss Elizabeth. Are you at home tomorrow?"

Elizabeth glanced at Lady Carlisle, who nodded.

"We shall be, for you," she said, and Miss Loughty's complexion, already pink from the cold, flushed a deeper colour. It suited her very well.

Miss Loughty pushed her spectacles up on her nose. "I shall see you all then."

Her driver slowed the little phaeton so that it fell behind Lady Carlisle's barouche.

Mr. Darcy was watching her, and Elizabeth told herself not to roll her eyes.

"Oh, there is Miss Torrington with her father," Elizabeth said with pleasure. Miss Torrington was the most delightful woman. She had informed Elizabeth she possessed neither the wish nor the need to marry. Her mother had died of an illness a decade before, and, as she had no siblings, she was her father's only heir.

"I would happily give it all away if I could have my mother back with me," she had told Elizabeth wistfully, "but as it is, I have enough to do the things I like without anyone to gainsay me. I cannot imagine ever finding a man who would permit it, and why would I would marry only to allow a husband to enjoy what he likes while giving up everything I do?"

"Good day," Elizabeth said cheerfully, as Miss Torrington rode up on a magnificent chestnut bay. Her father, a stout man with silvering hair and a neatly trimmed beard, touched his hat but did not approach, allowing his daughter to take the lead. "I did not expect to see you here."

"Father insisted," Miss Torrington said with a half smile and a quick glance over her shoulder. "I shall not keep you long, but I was hoping to invite you all to tea on Friday."

"I have an engagement on Friday," Lady Carlisle said, "but I can have a carriage made ready for you, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth."

"I hope to see Miss Hamilton as well if she is available," Miss Torrington said, reaching up to adjust a blonde curl away from her face.

Lady Carlisle smiled. "I am sure she would be very pleased to attend you, Miss Torrington."

"Excellent," Miss Torrington said. "I saw Miss Loughty speaking with you. I enjoyed meeting her the other night, so I shall catch her up and invite her as well. In the meantime, I look forward to hearing about the arc lamp—was that not today?"

"We just left the lecture. It was marvellous," Elizabeth assured her.

"Elizabeth will be able to explain how it works," Jane said proudly to Miss Torrington, then addressed their guest. "Is not that right, Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth pressed her lips together at her sister's unusual pique, and Miss Torrington lifted her brows.

"Miss Elizabeth has a detailed working knowledge of the Davy lamp, Miss Torrington," he said as stiffly as he did everything else.

Miss Torrington's lips twitched, but she inclined her head. "Until Friday, then. "

"We shall look forward to it," Jane said with real warmth, and Miss Torrington rode back to her father.

"My goodness," Lady Carlisle said, once she had gone. "Miss Torrington is a very good friend to have made, Miss Elizabeth."

Mr. Darcy frowned, but Elizabeth could not say whether he was frowning at the notion that Miss Torrington might be of some significance or that was just the way his face always looked.

"Why is that, Lady Carlisle?" she asked.

"Miss Torrington is from a very old family. Her branch is untitled, of course, but there are two cousins who are rather important MPs, one a near relation and the other more distant. Her father himself is a wealthy man who owns a great deal of land in Kensington and the counties south of town. She is a distant cousin to the Duke of Saltford on her mother's side, and has been friends with his son, Marquess Castleton, since they were children. She even introduced him to his wife."

Mr. Darcy's eyes widened. "Saltford, did you say?"

The countess smiled. "I did."

They waited for Mr. Darcy to explain, but he simply shook his head and uttered a small, strangled sound as his cheeks reddened.

How curious.

Lady Carlisle paid him no mind. "She is her father's hostess as well as his sole heir, and she does not suffer fools gladly. I think she has been rather sharp with some of the men who believed she would be theirs for the asking, and they have not been kind." A small, ironic smile graced her countenance. "Therefore, she has not mixed much in our society. I must thank you for bringing Amelia to her attention."

The countess had been distantly pleasant to Elizabeth from the moment she and Jane had arrived, but now there was something else in her eyes. Interest .

Mr. Darcy shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, but Elizabeth did her best to ignore him. She had never met a man who seemed so constantly discomfited.

"Rumour has it that Miss Torrington is to hold a salon this season, and as she rarely invites anyone out to Kensington, it is likely to be well attended." Lady Carlisle nodded. "If you two are her particular friends, you will be certain to receive an invitation. Perhaps the marquess and his wife will attend. Yes, well done indeed."

Another of Darcy's pronouncements was now revealed to be in error. Was he destined to be proven wrong-headed at every turn? He had heard the men at the club speak of Miss Torrington, but he had never been properly introduced to her. He had not realised how young she was—she could not be more than twenty-five or thereabouts, not yet the confirmed spinster he had heard of. And she was certainly well connected enough to support more than one eccentric hobby. Though Darcy preferred dark-haired ladies himself, Miss Torrington's blonde tresses and statuesque figure would have brought her many admirers, were it not for the fact that she often wore a bird of prey on her arm like some women wore bracelets.

He shook his head at himself. He had very affectionate memories of his mother, and so his belief about the coins was readily excused. But listening to bombastic braggarts at the club making disparaging remarks about a lady ought to have made him inquire further, not accept their descriptions of her without question. He had believed himself cleverer than that. He was deeply grateful he had not written to Lord Carlisle about Miss Torrington, though Fitz would be only too happy to harangue him about speaking so quickly.

Darcy's thoughts whirled as he glanced about the park, seeing nothing but members of fashionable society risking frozen digits to display their sartorial splendour. It felt superficial. Ridiculous. Absurd. Once again he thought that, despite his promise to his uncle, he might not wish to attend the entire season. He was certainly proving himself unprepared.

Just as unprepared as he had been to see the Bennet women in their elaborate cloaks and hats. Miss Bennet was a beautiful woman, but the light blue cloak against Miss Elizabeth's dark hair and eyes was stunning, entrancing—it was as though he was back at the Ashfords' ball again, dancing with her, feeling the pitch of the deck in a stormy sea. And it had not gone unnoticed, for several men he knew had already tipped their hats to her.

"Darcy!" called a male voice.

He blinked.

Bingley rode up to his side of the carriage before he saw who else accompanied him. "Miss Bennet," he said, doffing his hat, and then blushing to the roots of his hair. "Er, good day, Lady Carlisle. Miss Elizabeth."

Miss Elizabeth's countenance brightened. "Good day, Mr. Bingley."

Miss Bennet lifted her eyes slowly to meet Bingley's. "Good day, sir."

Bingley went still, as though he had been hit over the head with a cricket bat. For heaven's sake .

After a moment of ignoring everyone other than Miss Bennet, Bingley suddenly smiled and returned his hat to his head. "Miss Bennet, you are the very person I was hoping to meet today."

"Was I, sir?" the lady asked.

"Yes. I would like to ask, that is . . ." He glanced at Darcy and then Lady Carlisle nervously before returning his gaze to Miss Bennet. "I would like to ask whether I might call on you. "

Miss Bennet nodded. "Of course. Oh," she said, startled. "I beg your pardon, Lady Carlisle. Would that be quite convenient?"

"We are at home on Thursdays, Mr. Bingley," Lady Carlisle said evenly. "Between eleven and two."

Bingley's smile widened. "Thank you, Lady Carlisle." He touched the brim of his hat. "Miss Bennet." He began to ride away but stopped suddenly and turned back. "Goodness, I nearly forgot. Darcy, my sisters and Hurst will return to town next week. Please say you will come and dine with us."

"Send the details to the house, Bingley," Darcy said. The last thing he wanted to do was dine with Bingley's sisters and Mr. Hurst, and he hoped there would be some legitimate reason to decline. Bingley himself was a good friend, but his sister Miss Bingley reminded him rather too much of Lady Henrietta, though without the title to explain her behaviour. He would rather not spend an evening in close company with her.

"I shall," Bingley said. "Until Thursday, Miss Bennet," he said, and then rode away.

Darcy's gaze wandered over to Miss Bennet. She was not smiling, but her eyes were cast down, her hands clasped in her lap and her cheeks flushed. Miss Elizabeth sent a rather smug look at her sister.

Perhaps this was a good sign for Bingley, but Miss Bennet would need a strong constitution to put up with Bingley's sisters. Miss Elizabeth would have no trouble with them, but Miss Bennet was much more demure. However, that was Bingley's business. Lord Carlisle had only assigned the care of Miss Elizabeth to him, and thank goodness, for he was finding himself unequal even to that task.

"Not that I wish to say I told you so . . ."

"Stop it, Lizzy," Miss Bennet said with a quiet laugh. She nudged Miss Elizabeth with her elbow .

Darcy did not understand what the women were discussing, but neither, it appeared, did Lady Carlisle. He glanced out at the crowd and spied Fitz and Milton on their mounts, the colonel dressed in a spotless red uniform and gaining a great deal of female interest.

Fitz's smile widened at the sight of him. He tipped his head towards Milton, who turned to look where his brother was indicating. He nodded, and the two rode to join them.

"My goodness," Miss Elizabeth said by way of greeting, "have you kept the general waiting after all, Colonel?"

"The other way around, in fact," the colonel said. "The general decided he had worked long enough today. Fortunately, he sent a messenger to my father's house, but alas, by then I was dressed so well I thought I ought not waste it."

The ladies smiled at Fitz's self-deprecating remark about his uniform. He had not been wearing it at the lecture.

"How fortunate for us," Lady Carlisle said genuinely. "And your timing is perfect, Lord Milton, for there is Simon."

Darcy had met the Honourable Mr. Simon Howard before. He was the Carlisles' third son and had been at both Eton and Cambridge with Milton. He noted that they were sporting the same fashionably wild hairstyle. It was beyond him why anyone would spend time having his hair done to look as though he had just rolled out of bed.

"Mother!" Howard called. "I did not believe you when you said you would be here this evening. You do not like the cold. Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth."

They both nodded at Howard.

"We will not remain long, Simon," Lady Carlisle said fondly. "But I had to do something to roust you from wherever you are hiding these days. And the Bennet ladies must be seen. I only wish I had been able to convince Susan to come with us."

"Susan does not like the cold any more than you do, and you know exactly where I reside," he said cheerfully. "You ought to come visit your grandchildren, for they have been asking about you."

"Perhaps I shall, then," Lady Carlisle said, clearly pleased.

"Darcy," Howard said with a nod. "Colonel." Then he turned to his friend. "Milton, despite your determination never to wed, you really must come to the house and see what a pleasure a wife and family can be. Susan mentioned only this morning that we have not seen enough of you, and you should inspect the latest member of the Howard brood, for he is a particularly fine specimen who has already told me he wishes to have you as a godfather."

Milton was silent for a moment and then laughed. "Run out of brothers already? Very well, I should be honoured. I did not wish to impose, but now that I have had an invitation, I shall make a visit." He hesitated uncertainly before changing the topic. "Have you heard? They shall be voting on the regency today."

Howard pursed his lips. "I suspect it will pass, and we will officially have a regent. Do you think it will make any difference?"

They rode off together. Fitz remained, slowing his horse to the pace of the carriage. "Darcy," he said, "I intend to coerce you to Angelo's next week for some fencing. Or we could always clear out the back sitting room at the townhouse—we have done that before."

"Not when Georgiana is in residence," Darcy reminded his cousin, who nodded.

"Very well. Angelo's it is, then. Monday? "

Fencing. At last, an engagement where he would not run into Miss Elizabeth—and she would not run into him. He smiled inwardly at his little joke. "I will not deny you the benefit of my instruction."

Fitz laughed aloud at that. "We shall see, Darcy. I have been practising."

"I do not know if there is enough practice in the world to make a difference."

"Come now, Darcy," Fitz replied, a wicked twinkling in his eye that Darcy recalled very well from their youth. It was the look Fitz had right before he was about to suggest something that would land them both in a great deal of trouble. "You cannot mean to say that your skills with a sword are a match for my own?"

"Not the sword, Fitz," Darcy said, for he knew he had no superiority there. "The foil."

Miss Elizabeth was listening, her eyes moving back and forth between them as though she were watching them play tennis.

"No longer," Fitz said with a smile. "My time is coming."

"I have always admired your optimism in the face of sure defeat."

"And I have always admired your unwavering confidence, Darcy, as misguided as it might be."

Darcy was enjoying himself. Here was an activity that he excelled in. Fitz would not win, and his own confidence would not take yet another beating. He sorely missed the physical exertion of the country. He glanced at Lady Carlisle and recalled her admonition about his mood. Perhaps it was the sedentary nature of town life that was bothering him.

If that were the case, meeting Fitz at Angelo's would be a welcome reprieve. Darcy's cousin was always an excellent competitor. Fitz probably had improved his skills, Darcy mused, but then, so had he. If only Almack's could be replaced by Angelo's and balls replaced by racing his horse down an empty Rotten Row moments after sunrise, the season would be nearly bearable.

"Twelve o'clock?" he asked Fitz.

His cousin smiled and touched the brim of his hat. "I see you wish to meet me the very moment the place opens. Done. Ah, there is Simpson. I really ought to greet him. Good day, Lady Carlisle, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth." He grinned. "Darcy."

"It sounds to me as though the colonel is hiding something," Miss Elizabeth said.

Another surprise. The woman did not miss much. "He is, Miss Elizabeth."

"You know?"

"I have my spies," Darcy replied with a small smile. "You see, he has been crowing rather loudly about this match for a fortnight, but our schedules have not aligned well enough to meet before now. It has given me ample time to discover the move he believes will best me."

Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth exchanged glances.

"What is it, girls?" Lady Carlise inquired.

Miss Elizabeth appeared conflicted, but Miss Bennet nudged her. "It is only that we have seen this before."

"One of the Lucas boys from back home . . ." Miss Bennet added, then gave Miss Elizabeth a significant look.

"To be quite honest, Mr. Darcy," Miss Elizabeth said, "I am not certain we ought to interfere." She sounded very serious, but the corners of her mouth twitched, as though she was attempting not to laugh. "The colonel has done nothing to me that I should spoil his game, if indeed he is playing one."

This brought Darcy to attention. Fitz loved to play mental games with him. What had he missed, and was it possible the Bennet sisters had caught it? He had been so wrong about so many things in the past three weeks that he was not certain he could withstand another humiliation.

"What is it that you two know?" he inquired, feeling as though he was entering a conspiracy with them. It was a novel sensation, but certainly better than being the victim of one of his cousin's ambushes.

"He is a colonel, so I must presume he is also a strategist, sir. Do you think it possible he might know you have spies?"

Lady Carlisle smiled.

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "Possible."

"And, having identified your men, he might have planted evidence so that you would think you knew his plans and become overconfident? We have seen Mr. Lucas do that very thing to his brothers more than once." She and Miss Bennet shared an amused look. "They never seem to learn."

Was that something Fitz would do? Absolutely. And he would never let Darcy forget it, either. He had been arrogant not even to suspect it. On Friday he would make a trip to Angelo's and see what he could learn about new approaches from the continent. He smiled sheepishly at the Bennet ladies. "I promise you that I am not normally such a dull fellow."

Miss Elizabeth appeared as though she had something to say to that, but she satisfied herself by tipping her head at him in an impish manner. "No?"

He could not help it—her archness at his expense was only fair, and he smiled. "Not that you have any evidence to the contrary, Miss Elizabeth, but no. I am usually accounted as somewhat clever. Alas, my mental acuity does seem to have waned recently."

"They say that happens as one grows older," she teased.

"Lizzy," Miss Bennet said in a whisper.

Lady Carlisle, now engaged in a conversation with another lady who was riding, did not hear them .

Darcy ought to have been affronted, but this was one provocation too many this day, and he could only laugh aloud. "Indeed. I shall require spectacles next."

For the first time, Miss Elizabeth smiled at him. The smile was full, it was genuine, and then it was gone. Darcy blinked, just as he had when he had seen her in the cloak and hat—and then he recovered.

They all returned to politeness until their time in the park was over. The carriage stopped outside of Darcy House, and Darcy bid his farewells.

"I must thank you ladies for the warning," he said warmly at the last. "I have known my cousin all my life, and yet in this case you saw him more clearly than I."

Miss Bennet smiled, but Miss Elizabeth spoke. "You are welcome, Mr. Darcy."