An (Un)believably Artful Theft (Love’s Little Helpers #4)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

W atching Georgiana toss the ball for Archie to chase, hearing her laughter, seeing her skip and twirl, Darcy experienced a contentment he had not felt in a long time. Richard was still an interfering dunderhead, but Darcy acknowledged that the countryside had a pleasant effect on his sister. On him, too, at that moment. Granted, he could not relax too long or risk becoming complacent. However, while he was stuck here, he might as well find some enjoyment in the place.

Bingley clasped his hands behind his back and tucked his chin down to his chest. “I say, Darcy, I had hoped to have a private word with you. I owe you an apology. Had I known you would join us at Netherfield Park so quickly, I would not have agreed to attend so many social engagements. They were accepted before you and Miss Darcy arrived, or neither Caroline nor I would have put your sister in such an awkward position.”

Since Georgiana had not yet made her presentation into society, she was unable to receive guests or make calls along with their hosts. Darcy had been aware of this, and it had been one of his arguments to Richard against accepting Bingley’s invitation.

“Richard and I discussed the matter with Georgiana before our departure?—”

“Ah, the colonel! Forgive my interjection, but I had hoped he might join our little party. He knows that my invitation includes him, does he not?”

Darcy had to smile. Richard certainly knew he was included in Bingley’s frequent invitations. “He is aware,” he reassured his friend. His gaze returned to Georgiana, who was attempting to convince an unwilling dog to surrender his newly regained ball. “My sister prefers to make her coming out quietly in the country. Under the circumstances, Richard and I agree it is for the best. Therefore, she is free to make calls and attend certain entertainments with her companion.”

Georgiana had been relieved, admitting that the prospect of presenting herself before the royal family and aristocrats in London was enough to make her ill. She had hoped she might make her entrance into society quietly from Pemberley. As that was not an option, she was pleased to do so from Netherfield Park.

As the two gentlemen looked on with indulgent smiles, Georgiana finally pried the ball away from Archie and tossed it some distance, delighting the impatient dog.

Bingley heaved a sigh. “I am relieved. As your friend, though, I must warn you that my sisters are bound to see this as encouragement.” There were many ladies such as Bingley’s sisters who saw what they wished to see. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would presume that Georgiana’s quiet coming out while in their company was a display of trust—yet another rational argument against accepting Bingley’s invitation that Darcy had presented to his bull-headed cousin.

He tried not to cast his agitation toward Richard onto his unsuspecting friend, who did not deserve his acrimony. “Miss Bingley’s role as your hostess is sufficient for her without taking on the responsibility of a companion to my sister. Mrs. Annesley has proved to be a trustworthy chaperone. She needs no replacement.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than Darcy wished his words sounded less petulant. In a milder tone, he added, “I appreciate your warning.”

Bingley shook his head and chuckled. “I almost wish Caroline could hear how easily you relegate her dream of becoming your bride to that of a rejected companion.” He continued in a more serious tone, “I am disappointed she invited Miss Bennet to dine at Netherfield when she knew I had accepted Colonel Forster’s invitation in Meryton. I fear I shall not be the best company for the officers when I am wishing all the time to be at my own table. If only Caroline had consulted with me first!”

“Why do you suppose she did not?” Darcy looked askance at his friend, hoping Bingley understood the deviousness of his sister’s behavior.

“I am certain it was merely an oversight. Caroline says nothing but favorable remarks about Miss Bennet, and I can hardly blame her for seeking out the lady’s company. I only wish I might have been included…”

The apparent kindness Miss Bingley showed toward this Miss Bennet was unlikely to be anything less than some self-serving scheme. If Miss Bennet were a friend of confidence, Darcy would warn her to be wary.

“Archie!” Georgiana called, and she turned around to face them. “He has not returned with his ball. I did not think I had thrown it that far.”

Bingley whistled, making an ear-splitting, piercing sound. “Fear not, Miss Darcy. Perhaps the ball rolled down the other side of this hill into the pond, and he is attempting to retrieve it without getting wet.”

They redirected their path toward said pond, following the echo of Archie’s barks. “He does not like water?” Georgiana tilted her head in surprise.

“He would much rather dig in the dirt. The gardener was rather cross when he found Archie excavating near one of his prized rose bushes. I cannot allow him out of doors unaccompanied, or I shall find myself in need of a new gardener! ”

Georgiana smiled. “One must not displease the gardener!”

“Precisely! I am hopeless with pruning shears!”

“Is Archie shortened from Archimedes, or Archibald, or another name?” Georgiana’s ease reflected in her relaxed conversation. It was a beautiful sight to witness. She had been melancholy for so long that Darcy had begun to fear she might have forgotten how to be happy.

Bingley scratched his chin. “You know, I have never really given the matter much thought. Which do you prefer?”

“He is a clever fellow if he actually opened a drawer… perhaps Archimedes?”

They were steps away from clearing the rise when the barks became a cacophony of splashing and agitated quacks. Hastening to the top, Darcy recognized a feminine voice and then spotted the lady herself. “Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn, you leave those poor ducks alone!” She clapped her hands enthusiastically in front of her, trying to get her dog’s attention.

Archie barked from the edge of the water.

A white duck swam over to Remy, quacking in a manner that suggested it was imparting the latest gossip to her furry friend.

“Jemima, do not encourage him!” called the young lady.

Jemima…? Was she addressing the duck? Darcy did not know which surprised him more: that the young la dy appeared to be chaperoned only by her overly friendly dog or that the duck in the pond had a name.

A moment later, the lady noticed them. She clasped her hands together and bit her bottom lip before her uncertainty faded into a bright smile.

Bingley raised his hand to tip his hat as he bowed. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet! How fortunate we are that our paths have crossed.”

Miss Bennet? Bingley’s Miss Bennet? Darcy merely nodded his head, the disappointment he felt making his arms too heavy to add any flourish to his bow. He watched as she approached them. Darcy would not have thought a smile could become more radiant, but hers did. There was no reservation or doubt, only genuine pleasure at the sight of Bingley.

She repeated the dog’s name and patted her skirt more insistently. This time, the dog responded to her call. He swam in their direction and caused some commotion when he shook beside Archie.

Darcy was still mulling over her warmth toward Bingley and his own peculiar response upon observing it when a wet nose bopped against his hand. He looked down to see two brown eyes watching him. Remy’s tail wagged, and so did the entire back half of his body.

“Remy, sit! You will get the gentleman wet, and nobody wants to smell like a wet dog,” Miss Bennet scolded congenially.

“And how fares Miss Bennet?” Bingley looked around as though hoping to see someone else.

Ah! Another Miss Bennet! His arms feeling much lighter than they had moments ago, Darcy scratched behind Remy’s ear.

“Jane is well, although I am certain she will be disappointed she is not here right now. I did not know you were a great walker, Mr. Bingley, or”—her eyes shifted between Darcy and Georgiana—“am I to credit your guests with this happy coincidence?”

“My guests! Yes, allow me to introduce my dear friends.” Bingley breezed through their presentation.

The surname Bennet was not known to Darcy, nor did Miss Elizabeth’s simple walking gown suggest she was from a prosperous family, but her manners and speech proclaimed her to be a lady. He was pleased to learn that at least her father was a landed gentleman. From what he had seen so far, she might make a suitable acquaintance for Georgiana during their stay.

Remy nudged his hand again; in his deep thoughts, Darcy’s fingers had stilled. He resumed scratching. Bingley laughed and motioned at them. “You two appear to be old friends.”

“We have met before.”

“I hope he did not track too much mud inside your carriage.” For Bingley’s benefit, Miss Elizabeth followed her tease with a humorous summary of their first meeting.

Archie, apparently tired of being ignored, dropped his ball and nudged it toward the toe of Darcy’s foot, then began prancing and barking. Darcy leaned down, snatched it up, and threw it as far as he could. It sailed over the pond into a copse of trees on the other side, prompting both dogs to give chase.

Georgiana spoke. “I had hoped we might see you again, Miss Elizabeth. I was so happy to see Remy running toward us.”

The young woman turned her glinting eyes toward Georgiana. “I will admit that I was cross when he ran off. However, once I saw that he had found you, I was more inclined to praise him!”

Georgiana smiled softly. “Are we to expect to see you every time he appears, then? I am glad to know it!”

Reacting as if she were an old friend rather than a new acquaintance, Elizabeth responded in kind. “As Remy’s designated companion, I cannot allow him to roam over the countryside without the advantage of my chaperonage.”

“Do you often walk alone?” Darcy asked.

She lifted her chin. “Every day, if I can manage it.”

“Your father does not concern himself with your safety?”

She arched an eyebrow. “By forcing a servant with other, more urgent tasks to perform to accompany me? I assure you, while Remy is a friendly dog, he would not hesitate to protect me should he sense I was in any danger.”

Remy would sooner lick an assailant than bite anyone. This was a bird dog that made friends with ducks, for heaven’s sake! “We would be happy to escort you wherever you are going,” Darcy offered.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I would expect no less from a gentleman. However, I am not going much farther, nor am I ready to return to Longbourn, so I really must decline your kind offer.”

“I thought Longbourn’s tenant houses were on the other side of the property,” Bingley commented. He braced himself to receive both dogs, who were running straight at him. Archie’s short coat bore no clues as to where they had gone to retrieve the ball, but twigs and leaves adorned Remy’s brown curls.

“They are, but that is not where I am going.” Miss Elizabeth offered no further information, no destination. Instead, she pointed toward the water. “You see that white duck fishing in the middle of the pond? That is Jemima. She and Remy have been friends since she hatched, and he thought he would pay her a call.”

“How charming!” Georgiana exclaimed.

Bingley, eager to return to the conversation, no doubt with another question about Miss Bennet, threw the ball a little recklessly. It landed with a plunk in the middle of the pond.

The dogs raced after it, Archie coming to a stop at the water’s edge and giving his master a look of reproach. Remy, however, plunged once again into the murky water, resurfacing with the ball secured in his mouth. Archie’s legs quivered and he barked impatiently until Remy gained the land and, like the best sort of friend, dropped the ball at Archie’s feet. After lunging for the ball, Archie turned away and chewed on his prize without a thank you .

“He looks rather pleased with himself,” Miss Elizabeth commented.

Bingley shook his head at his dog and clucked his tongue. “You let your friend fetch your ball for you just so you do not have to get wet? Such sacrifice on your ungrateful behalf deserves to be rewarded. I suggest we give Remy one of those meaty bones Cook usually saves for you.”

Archie posed as though he were considering Bingley’s suggestion and arming a brilliant rebuttal. Then Remy widened his stance and shook the water off his fur, splashing the other dog from top to bottom with pond water. Archie’s disgruntlement was priceless.

“That did not quite go as you had planned, did it?” Bingley teased his dog, whose woeful expression only made his master laugh all the more. Archie glared at a happy, clueless Remy.

Darcy could not recall the last time he had laughed so hard. He struggled to catch his breath, and his stomach ached. Perhaps the Hertfordshire countryside was not so bad after all.