A Summer Shame (5 page)

"Miss Bennet, you appear most lovely." Lord Bergamote bowed deeply over Jane's hand and she gave the slightest curtsy in return. Something about the man still made her uneasy from when she had met him at Easter time.

"Lord Bergamote, it is a pleasure to see such familiar company this evening."

"I hope you will save a dance for me. Perhaps the third set?"

Jane gave a hollow laugh. "The third set, you do not ask for the first?"

The dashing Frenchman winked at her, forcing Jane to hide her annoyance. "A beauty such as yourself must be spoken for . . ." He tried to gaze into her eyes, but Jane squeezed the arm of the Lord Ashbourne for assistance.

"Indeed she is, Alphons, indeed she is." Lord Ashbourne bellowed, a younger version of the Earl's bombastic voice when he grew irritated. Robert Ftizwilliam whisked Jane away from Lord Bergamote as she realized she had not accepted the man's offer. She cast off this worry and followed the Viscount to dance the first set.

Lady Matlock had implored her this was the crucial moment, the moment in which London Society would judge who was spurned and who did the spurning. If Jane showed any sign of discomfort, concern, or worry, the Ton would judge she was cast aside by Bingley, which would be social suicide. It was all a ruse, of course. Just as Jane and Robert moved to line up in the first set, at the last moment Lord Ashbourne bowed low to an approaching man.

"Your Grace, may I present Miss Jane Bennet of Hertfordshire?"

The mysterious man bowed and gave Jane a warm smile before introducing himself. "Augustus Hamilton, Marquess of Haddington."

Jane's cheeks flushed as she accepted the son of a Duke's hand as the music began to play. The twirls and spins came easy to her. She noticed many of the ladies with a prime location to observe the dancing couples were whispering furtively behind their fans.

"It would appear you've been enlisted in the Matlock army as well, sir." Jane teased as the couples grew closer to promenade down the line.

The marquess laughed. "I heard you Bennet girls are saucy. But as the Fitzwilliams, Darcys, and Hamiltons have all been close allies for generations, I take the compliment."

Jane tried to puzzle out the connection and at the beginning of the second movement, she asked where Haddington was located.

"It's a town built on my ancestor's holdings in eastern Scotland, madame."

Suddenly, Jane realized where she had heard Haddington before, it was the town on all of her letters from Elizabeth! "Oh, perhaps you've seen my sister and her husband, Mr. Darcy?"

The marquess shook his head as they separated for a moment to complete the dance. When they returned to applaud the musicians, he bowed and Jane took stock of his person. His chin was a firm sort, shown as exceptionally masculine in contrast to his silky black curls neatly tied behind him. Jane noticed he was of a large build, but did not appear to particularly broad. He was in every way the opposite of the fair-haired Mr. Bingley and Jane found herself bemused by her mild attraction to the kind man who would dance with a stranger to save a reputation.

As Lord Haddington escorted Jane back towards his distant cousin, he explained he was unfortunately in London with his father to learn the politics of the seat he would one day inherit. "The experience has been an eye-opening one and I can't say I'm eager to rush home to the sheep and rolling fields," he said, with a laugh expecting Miss Bennet to agree with him.

Instead she frowned. "London does have its charms, but I do so miss the quiet of my home county. I-I do enjoy the delights of a dance, though." She added the last part as she realized her honesty would likely be seen as rather rude to this complete stranger.

"I believe most ladies do." The Marquess bowed over her hand and gave it to the Colonel who was waiting most anxiously for his turn. The peace was short lived as Mr. Bingley weaved his way through the crowds to request a dance. With a stern face, and a slight feeling of guilt, Jane did as she was instructed and ignored him entirely, giving him the cut direct. Nearby patrons laughed at Mr. Bingley's hopeless faux pas and the Colonel happily escorted Jane to the dance floor after making a slight glance to ensure Mary was in safe hands with his brother.

Jane teased the Colonel about losing a button on his red coat and was so convincing in her tale, she made the young man inspect his person during the set. When he realized he had been had, he gave biting words back to Miss Bennet. "I knew not to underestimate you, private. I do believe you are having a modicum of fun."

While the ballroom was hardly full of families she grew up with, Jane began to relax, feeling at ease in the protection of the Fitzwilliams. The practice through the week in preparation for the slings and arrows of society had put her nerves on edge, but when she allowed herself to feel happy, she found the emotion swept over her quickly.

Desperately thirsty, Jane asked the Colonel if they might visit the punch bowl before she danced the third set with Lord Ashbourne to make up for his stolen first set. She could see Mary was already at the bowl with Miss Bingley, showing signs of discomfort in the conversation.

Setting her shoulders back, Jane approached the punch bowl where she accepted the shallow compliments of her once would-be sister-in-law. Before she could form a polite response, the devilish Bergamote appeared from behind Jane to request his dance. So flustered by having to change her dance plans yet again, Jane gave the Viscount a look of regret, but knew the older Fitzwilliam son danced only for ceremony. He had no interest in Jane and she could not claim such desire on her part, either, no matter how many times Lady Matlock sat the two of them next to each other over dinner.

Her second dance with a relative stranger, Jane stuck with the approved topics of the size of the ball and how it compared or contrasted to other balls this Season. She heard the commotion before looking over to the punch bowl, nearly missing her step. Craning her neck despite the turns and handoffs, Jane could clearly see Mary, upset, with a dark red stain down her ivory gown and Miss Bingley offering the most play-acted apologies Jane had ever witnessed. Anger at Caroline humiliating another one of her sisters festered in Jane's mind and she completely ignored Lord Bergamote's question about her family's connection to the Bingleys.

When the music ended, Jane watched as Mary was taken under the Colonel's arm to return to Matlock House as her dress was beyond ruin. The smug look on Caroline's face seared in Jane's mind. Without thinking it through, Jane turned to Lord Bergamote and told an absolute truth.

"My aunt's husband assisted Mr. Bingley with the lease of an estate in my home county last summer. Mr. Bingley sold the last of his family's factories and was looking to purchase. Unfortunately, he struggled to manage and my sister's husband, Mr. Darcy, intervened to keep the property afloat." Satisfied Lord Bergamote's ears were not the only to hear how inexplicably close the Bingleys were to trade, though Caroline and Louisa had always attempted to hide it, Jane excused herself and walked to the older Fitzwilliam brother on her own.

"I do believe I am feeling a touch faint. Should we follow Mary and Richard?" she asked sweetly, and Robert Fitzwilliam did not need to be asked twice. Giving a quick nod to his red faced mother standing across the room, trapped in a conversation with one of the Earl's friends, Robert and Jane made their escape.

Playing a triumphant nine, Elizabeth Darcy laughed. "Fifteen for two!" She pegged her points, desperately trying to catch up to Lydia's pegs on the cribbage board.

Lydia played a seven. "Twenty-two," she said flatly.

"Thirty for a run of four!" Elizabeth wiggled in her seat after paying her eight, marching her pegs four more spaces.

"Go."

Elizabeth frowned. "Are you even attending the game? You are winning you know."

Lydia pushed back from the table and stood, her round belly weighing her thin frame down. She rubbed her midsection and paced. "I so wish to go out of doors, to shop, to do anything but sit inside and read or play cards with my sister!"

Elizabeth frowned and picked up the cribbage board and playing cards, annoyed that her efforts to cheer her sister met with failure. "There is nothing I can do to undo your tragic decisions. Do not be mistaken in thinking I enjoy spending my wedding trip fulfilling the whims of a mad woman heavy with child."

For two months now, Elizabeth had endured the rants and ravings of her youngest sister who still refused to accept even an ounce of responsibility for her condition. There was no remorse, no contrition, only constant whining and complaints and Elizabeth Darcy had reached her limit.

Mr. Darcy stood outside the door, listening to the latest sisterly spat and chose an opportune moment to enter. Elizabeth rose to greet her husband, inquiring if his work was finished for the day.

"Yes, madame, though we've had a delivery and I wondered if you might assist me?"

Elizabeth glanced at Lydia who made a face and crossed her arms before asking the maid for more refreshments. Resisting the urge to remind Lydia she had eaten luncheon recently, Elizabeth pressed her lips together and accepted her husband's arm.

She began to giggle as he escorted her upstairs, but her expectations came to halt when he led them to her bedroom, not his. Laid out upon the bed was a riding habit of the latest fashion, a long coat in a military style with matching slit skirt.

"I know horse back riding is not your preferred mode of transportation, but I had hoped, that perhaps if you would try a few lessons, you might ride out with me on occasion?"

"Yes!"

"Now, I know lessons are daunting . . . wait, did you say yes?"

Elizabeth spun around with a broad smile for her husband. "Yes! Anything, everything to remove myself from the company of that spoiled child!"

Darcy chuckled and accepted his wife's embrace, looking over her head at the handsome riding habit he selected from a fashion print of his sister's back in London. "Would now be too soon?"

Elizabeth shooed her husband out and called for Becky. It was not until she wore the full outfit, complete with a beaver hat matching the fine fur lining the jacket, that the full weight of her decision rested on her shoulders.

The woman in the mirror stood fearless, regal, and commanding, but the Mrs. Darcy staring at the reflection trembled at the thought of mounting a large beast and relying on its good sense for her safety. Elizabeth's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of another in the mirror, a tall, handsome man in the tightest of breeches that left little to the imagination. For him, she would be strong.

As they reached the paddock on the far side of the stables, Darcy pressed an apple into her hand. "I couldn't possibly eat, sir."

"It's for the horse."

A beautiful chestnut brown pony stood in the paddock, tufts of lighter hair hung loosely along its hooves, matching its mane and tail. Elizabeth had never seen such a sturdy breed of horse, though compact in size. She held out the apple and the horse clopped over to eat the treat from her hands, making her squirm in excitement. Once she calmed, she stroked the animal's muzzle, finding kindness in the dark, black eyes.

"I do not see a saddle, surely I'm not to learn to ride bareback?" Elizabeth laughed as the horse snorted as if in response to her tease.

"No, Elizabeth. As I instructed my sister, I shall instruct you. First, you must learn to saddle a horse."

"But William, will not the grooms saddle my horse?" Elizabeth did not mind learning new skills, but this was quite peculiar.

Darcy grabbed the sidesaddle from where it rested on the fence and motioned for Elizabeth to come over to the box. "Tomorrow, you'll learn to put reins on a horse, but first I want you to sit upon your new friend while I lead you around the paddock."

As Elizabeth joined him at the box, he deposited the saddle into her arms, causing her to shrink slightly under the weight until she adjusted. He clicked his tongue and the horse obediently approached. As Darcy instructed her where to place the saddle and how to fasten the straps, she was at last introduced to her
friend.

"This is Zanzibar." Elizabeth greeted the horse by name and remarked on the exotic sounding name to which Darcy responded. "All of Captain Tompkins' horses are similarly named."

"The Captain breeds horses?" Elizabeth was all astonishment and doing her best to draw out the moment when her husband would ask her to mount this Zanzibar creature.

"His access to ports around the world brings a rather interesting variety to his breeds, Zanzibar here is a cross between a Belgian draft and a local mare, producing a sturdy, short pony. Perfect for a certain wife of mine." William smiled wide enough for her to see his dimples and Elizabeth knew the time had come.

With a deep breath, she accepted his assistance to mount which he promised to offer only this one time. Feeling more and more like he was teaching her to swim by tossing her into a the middle of a pond, Elizabeth tried to still her nerves as she was now two-and-a-half times as high as she was accustomed.

"I am going to lead you around the paddock and you can hold Zanzibar's mane, it will not hurt him."

Elizabeth clutched a handful of the horse's mane, uttering her apologies.