The Heir and Spare (Jane Austen Adaptations)

4. Arthur Darcy

Chapter 4

Arthur Darcy

A rthur arrived at Lord Shackley’s early in the afternoon. The activities weren’t supposed to begin until evening, but he liked to situate himself, and he had some correspondence to take care of before the other guests arrived. Besides, he also hoped to re-acquaint himself with the elusive Lord Shackley. What had he been doing with himself these past quieter years? How had he thought anew of Arthur, and why was he invited? He smiled to himself. All things he hoped to know from the host who had not yet shown himself.

He'd been taken excellent care of even so. The servants had led him to a lovely well-appointed room with a view of the expansive property and the front drive. He’d refreshed himself, his valet had unpacked his things and settled in the extra room attached to his closet. It was all very convenient and comfortable. He was pleased indeed.

A maid scratched at the door and his valet opened it, bringing in a tray. “For your enjoyment. Dinner will be later this evening.”

“Thank you.” Darcy smiled. This was very comfortable indeed. “My gratitude to our host.”

Sounds of a carriage arriving caught his attention. “Ah.” He stood at the window. He also had a clear and easy view of every arriving guest. His curiosity was definitely piqued. Who did Lord Shackley know? Who would Darcy be sharing the house party with?

The carriage seemed old, but well taken care of, the horses a fine team. He stepped closer to the window as the equipage stopped just below. Would he see the people stepping down?

Two bonnets descended the carriage steps, one at a time. They were colorful, prettily dressed as all women were, but Darcy could ascertain nothing else about them. He was about to step back from the window to continue his final letter when one of them looked up and met his eyes. He froze. Caught staring? But her expression captured him. She was curious, intelligent, light, and something more, something fleeting as though she might be off and running through a field if left to her own devices. She held his gaze but a moment more, and then her mouth dropped and she frowned. Whipping her skirts about her, she tugged on her companion and then entered the house with firm and hurried steps.

What on earth had that been about? Did he know her? How could he? And he knew of no women who would frown so openly at him. He’d not offended any that he knew. Perhaps, despite his initial interest in her upturned mouth and pert nose, she was not as pleasant as he hoped.

He stepped back from the window as their trunks were unloaded. He’d be wary of her until he knew more, certainly.

His tray of food was delicious; fine cheeses, chocolate even, strong tea and a selection of fine tarts that dissolved on his tongue. It was rare to find a chef as good as the one they’d convinced to join them at Pemberley from France. But here Lord Shackley had fine food. And Arthur hadn’t known how much he cared for fine food until he found it outside his home. He dabbed his mouth. Yes, it was a treat indeed.

There was a knock at his door. When he opened it, a footman bowed. “The pleasure of your attention is requested in Lord Shackley’s east library, if it pleases you.”

“Excellent.” Arthur was good and ready to see any library this man might have. “Lead the way.”

“Very good, Mr. Darcy.”

A soft gasp captured his attention from down the hall but when he looked, he saw only closed doors. He brushed off his shoulder one time, more out of habit than anything. His valet would never let him be dressed in anything other than the finest cared-for articles of clothing, even though Arthur insisted that he use them to their point of breaking before acquiring new garments. He did not wish to waste. His brother did enough of that.

He walked down well-worn wood floors that shined with care, slightly uneven beneath his feet. The walls were lit by candles in sconces; now and then a bundle of flowers filled the hall with a fresh aroma. Did they have a greenhouse? Where were they cultivating the flowers? He’d have to explore the gardens. He was most interested in all things out of doors, naturally. And in the library of course. And in their host.

He had high hopes to meet a lovely country girl as well, but the frowning one doused his excitement somewhat. He did not wish to be fooled by a smiling miss who frowned at strangers.

Memories from his childhood he tried not to relive clouded his brain. There was no need to think of his mother’s bouts with the blues and the angries. He didn’t know what else to call them. His nurse had been a godsend and had made a game of it. “Be careful, the angries are out. Best to stay put for the morning.” But when his mother let her emotions overtake her judgment, she was a different person indeed. And he had tried to steer clear of her path but had been caught in her fire enough times to know he did not wish to experience the cruel and illogical wrath of any other woman.

Luckily his sister was everything that was good and sweet natured. She was giving and hopeful and full of innocent caring. He’d love for someone with even a bit more challenge in her voice, with wit and daring—but kindness. Always kindness.

He shook his head. Perhaps this was not the week to find such a woman but it was definitely time for him to start looking, to make a real effort in that direction at least. It would do his sister Georgiana well and perhaps rid his thoughts of the echoes of what should be there. Always missing someone, always a hole where someone should be. Arthur was lonely. It came down to something as simple as that. He was lonely.

They approached a bright and airy opened doorway where sunlight spilled out into the hall. He liked the room already.

The servant entered ahead of him to announce, “A Mr. Arthur Darcy, my lord.” With a bow, he turned to leave them be.

Arthur stepped into the room and bowed to a wizened older man with a bright smile. “Lord Shackley.” When he rose, the man stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Darcy, good to see you.”

“You as well, my lord. I only wish I could be giving you the well wishes from my father. But surely he would be happy to see a valued acquaintance renewed. He enjoyed your conversations, I know that.”

“Yes, he was a dear friend, a challenging intellect and an excellent conversationalist.”

Arthur nodded. “I was so pleased to come. How have you been? Your estate is well situated, comfortable. I’ve had every need accommodated.”

“Excellent.” He nodded, seeming pleased, but also not needing the praise. “We are just waiting on two others and we will begin.” He smiled. “We expect all our guests to arrive by late this evening, but the three of you who are here are fortuitous.”

Arthur thought that an interesting choice of words, particularly if he referred to the frowning woman who had arrived recently.

And then they entered. The footman announced, “Misses Elizabeth and Mary Bennet.”

Their curtseys were lovely and well-practiced. They carried themselves with perfect poise. But Miss Elizabeth could not hide a certain stoicism in her expression before she turned her face down to perform her curtsey.

He stepped forward to reach for her hand. She offered it with a completely blank expression. No smile, no surprise, nothing. “Mr. Darcy.”

He bowed over her hand, lightly kissing her knuckles. “Miss Elizabeth?”

She nodded and then turned to her side. “I don’t know if you’ve met my sister Mary?”

It seemed an odd choice of words and action. He’d not met Miss Elizabeth either, had he? Why was she introducing her sister to him? But he shrugged it off and bowed over Miss Mary’s hand next, brushing his lips across her gloved knuckles. “It is a pleasure, Misses Mary and Elizabeth. I look forward to our time together with such an illustrious host.” He smiled.

Miss Elizabeth seemed curious, and with an odd questioning expression she turned to their host. “And you must be Lord Shackley?”

The older gentleman grinned. “Yes!” He clapped his hands together, his eyes crinkling with evidence of frequent smiles. “The daughters of one of my most cherished correspondents. Welcome. I’m so pleased he could spare you.”

He seemed to surprise them with a grandfatherly type hug. “I feel as if you are my own. He speaks so highly and so often of you both. But you don’t know me yet. Thank you for humoring an old man and coming to brighten my days.”

Miss Elizabeth’s face changed into a beacon of happiness, and Darcy’s mouth went dry. In that moment, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, surely. Her eyes lit, her smile was large and full, her nose pert, wrinkled just around the end as though finding something so delightful she couldn’t withhold the happiness. He was enchanted.

But when she turned back to him and saw his face, everything in her expression dimmed. He couldn’t account for it, but the difference was so stark, some explanation must be owed.

Lord Shackley cleared his throat and looked between them for a moment then said, “Come, let me give you a tour of my collections as we await one other who has not yet arrived.” He looked at Miss Mary as if to say she might find the new arrival most interesting and then continued his sentence. “You four will certainly find the most enjoyment from my tomes.” He held out his arm toward one section of the wall. “Let’s begin with the masters.”

The room was lined with books as one would expect, and smelled of books which Darcy quite enjoyed. It reminded him of his study at home. But it also held very interesting busts and other items on the shelves. The books were not organized by any sort of size or color, but by subject matter or author it seemed. It made for a more eclectic looking experience. If Miss Elizabeth’s pleased expression were anything to go by, she quite enjoyed it. He tried to, but his fingers itched to start moving things around. The one book taller than the rest for example. What was it doing there? Standing tall, asking to be moved, begging to find a home on the other side of the shelf with the others of its height. He stepped nearer but before he could begin a bit of reorganizing, Lord Shackley directed their attention to a particular book with a dark green binding he held in his hands.

“This, my friends, will become very familiar to all of you.”

They all stepped closer.

Miss Elizabeth brushed against his arm and then flinched away, stepping so obviously far from him he had to wonder again if he’d done something to offend her in some way. He dipped his head in an effort to apologize for accidentally being in her space.

But she wasn’t looking. She was so actively avoiding looking at him that her face was turned away from even their host as he attempted to show them a new set of books.

If it were possible to look somewhere besides at him, she was actively doing it. He stared at her, wondering if she would give up and glance his way.

“What are you doing?” Her whisper sounded soft, but her expression was anything but.

“I’m wondering if you might glance my way again. I want to be ready for it.”

Her lips twitched.

And he smiled. So she had a sense of humor.

At last she turned to him, her eyes smiling. “There. I’m looking. Now, we should be paying more attention to that book with the green binding.”

Miss Mary had it in her clutches and she did look as though she might never let it go.

“Why exactly are we to be so interested in this particular piece of literature?” He wished to sequester the two of them off for a moment now that she was smiling in his direction.

“I believe, if you were listening, you would have heard that we are to create a theatrical endeavor of some sort…a musical or a play or simply a reading.” She crossed her arms. “And we are paired to do it.”

He coughed and then attempted to hide his enjoyment so as not to alienate her again. “Oh? And tell me, how are your performing abilities?”

“Paltry at best. I’m afraid I might be the weak link of the two of us?”

“Not at all I’m certain, as I have very little ability in any of the areas needed. Perhaps we shall work on a comedy of errors?”

She tapped her finger on the tip of her nose. “I think you’re on to something.”

Their host seemed oblivious to them both except for the occasional glance out the side of his eye. Whatever his goal was for this activity, he was certainly actively interested in their reaction. He hovered over Miss Mary, answering questions and turning through the pages. But he was definitely aware of Miss Elizabeth and himself. How very curious. Well, he should be grateful to the man. He’d very much like to get to know this new Miss Elizabeth and to keep her frowns at bay.

The door to the library opened with a rather large bang, jerking their attention toward a slightly disheveled young man standing in the doorway, waving aside the servant who had followed and was about to announce him.

“I’m Lord Perceval.” He bowed with a flourish of one hand. “I apologize for my tardiness.”

“Oh, excellent. I told them to expect your arrival.” Lord Shackley’s grin could hardly be contained as he looked from Miss Mary to the newcomer and back.

Miss Elizabeth snorted and then covered her face with one hand. “Excuse me.”

“No, my sentiments exactly.” He nodded in Lord Perceval’s direction. Then he held out his hand. “I’m Mr. Darcy. This is Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary.”

They shook hands and then with the same flourish and dramatics, Lord Perceval bowed over Miss Elizabeth’s hand. He lingered a moment longer than one would expect, long enough to draw attention, and then rose with a wink just for her.

Arthur wished to stand between them. But Miss Elizabeth seemed unfazed by this stranger’s attempt to flirt with her.

He knew he had no right to prevent such a gesture, so he tamped down his protective reaction, somewhat.

Then Lord Perceval primped and played with Miss Mary for a moment. Darcy soon saw that the playful nature was simply his manner of interacting. And Darcy hoped the women could see such a thing as well, that Miss Mary’s heart would be guarded, and that Miss Elizabeth would still enjoy Arthur’s rather quiet and subdued manner after such an energetic force entered the room.