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A tall, handsome gentleman, blessed with long dark hair and amazing dark eyes, joined them. Having overheard Elizabeth’s retort, he playfully slapped Darcy on his back. “That is my friend Darcy, to be sure.” He turned to Darcy. “Am I to be introduced?”
Mr. Darcy nodded in acquiescence. “Miss Bennet, allow me to introduce Lord Andrew Holland, future Earl of Bosley. This is Miss Bennet, my lord. She hails from—” His voice trailed off as he looked expectantly at Elizabeth.
“Hertfordshire, my lord,” she said, proffering her hand.
He took Elizabeth’s hand and raised it to his lips. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with mirth. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Darcy directed his attention to his approaching groom and then stepped away to confer with him while Elizabeth and Lord Holland continued speaking.
“My aunt will be very disappointed to learn that I have made your acquaintance, my lord, for she speaks very highly of you. She wished to have the honour of introducing us.”
His blank expression urged Elizabeth on. “Lady Vanessa Barrett.”
Recognition graced his countenance. “Lady Barrett is my aunt as well. Her late husband and my mother were brother and sister.” He swept his eyes over Elizabeth. “So you are the young woman of whom Lady Vanessa has spoken so highly. You will forgive me for not realising the connection sooner, I pray. I agree. She will be disappointed, and she is not one who brokers disappointment well. Perhaps we might pretend this meeting never took place, and then her hopes will not have suffered.”
“How very thoughtful of you to recommend we deceive her ladyship under the guise of appeasing her, my lord.”
The dashing viscount clutched his hand over his heart. “I am wounded, Miss Bennet.”
Darcy resumed his place by his friend’s side and placed his hand on Lord Holland’s shoulder. “Fear not, my friend, for whatever charge Miss Bennet has levelled upon you merely was intended to divert you. I have a strong suspicion that the young lady finds great enjoyment in professing opinions that, in fact, are not her own, solely for sport.”
Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself. “Now, it is my turn to be wounded. Mr. Darcy has attempted to sketch my character in a manner that would have one believe I am harsh and unfeeling when nothing can be further from the truth, and here in a part of the world where so little is known about me that I hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit.”
Darcy smiled and said, “On the contrary, Miss Bennet. I, for one, find your manner entirely refreshing, and I find your taste in books equally so.”
A bubbly young woman approached them, rounding out their party. Judging by the young lady’s decidedly unguarded manner, Elizabeth could only suppose she was an intimate acquaintance of the viscount’s. She swatted him with her fan. “Lord Holland, you will forgive me, but I am most anxious for the pleasure of your company.” He accepted her proffered hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.
“Miss Lancaster, it is always a pleasure to see you. Have you met my friends?”
Her demeanour told him she had not. “Then might I have the honour? First, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire. Darcy, Miss Lancaster.” Darcy bowed and she curtsied. “Secondly, meet Miss Bennet of Hertfordshire.”
The ladies greeted each other cordially. Miss Lancaster was no more than one or two and twenty; her face was pretty, her figure tall and striking, and her manner graceful. “Must we be so formal, Miss Bennet? You may call me Miss Lucy or Lucy if you truly prefer to part with the formalities. What might I call you?”
“My given name is Elizabeth Bennet.”
“So, you hail from Hertfordshire, do you?” She touched her hand to her head. “Are you Lady Vanessa’s niece? Well of course you are! Her ladyship has spoken to my mother of very little since she learned you would be coming for a visit.” She outstretched her arms. “Welcome to Bosley.” Closing them, she placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “Now we absolutely must dispense with the formalities, for we shall spend a great deal of time with each other in the coming months.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
The gregarious young woman then laced her hand through Lord Holland’s crossed arms. “Indeed. Please pardon me for a moment. I need a moment with this fine gentleman.”
Once again, Elizabeth found herself alone with Mr. Darcy. Why is he merely staring at me? Elizabeth looked at him expectantly; after all, he had been the one to summon her to his side. “If I may ask, what is the purpose of my standing here, sir?”
“Pardon?”
“Earlier, you said you wanted to speak with me. I am listening.”
“I simply wanted to—” He paused for a moment. Moistening his lips, his gaze pored over Elizabeth. “I supposed I wanted to speak with you—”
“Then, I suppose that whatever it was you wanted to say to me has since slipped your mind.”
“You might say that.”
What an exasperating man! When Miss Lancaster spoke of us spending time in company, I wonder if that includes spending time with him. He is Lord Holland’s house guest, and I imagine Miss Lancaster does not often forego the chance to be in his lordship’s company. Elizabeth’s thoughts wandered back to her current companion. If she were to judge by the manner in which he looked at her, she would swear he was looking for a flaw in her appearance—perhaps some failure of perfect symmetry in her form. Elizabeth’s courage always rose in the face of any such attempts to intimidate her. As with her aunt, she intended for Mr. Darcy to know it. She arched her brow. “Senility—I pray that is not a family trait, Mr. Darcy.”
Before the gentleman could fashion a retort, a passerby interrupted them with congratulations on Mr. Darcy’s victory. Elizabeth glanced to where Lord Holland and Miss Lancaster stood. By the look of things, Miss Lancaster would like very much to be the future mistress of Avondale. I must admit they are a striking pair.
