by Wendi Sotis
“And I yours.” Ana giggled. “You dance so elegantly, Liz — I mean Miss Butterfly.”
Elizabeth gestured towards the room. “It is easy to appear elegant in a barn! Though, this does not seem like one at all. I am amazed at how it has been transformed into a wonderland.”
Ana looked around. “It has turned out nicely.” She paused. “I would like to dance, but I am not yet out. I hope that I do half as well as you do, once I am able.”
“You forget, I have seen you walk and ride with grace. I have no doubt you will dance with equal poise and charm.”
Ana’s mouth fell open momentarily. “Every time I feel agitated and worried, you make me feel so much better. I wish you lived nearby.”
“For the time being, I do,” Elizabeth answered with a grin.
The black stallion came up behind Ana, carrying two cups of punch. “Good afternoon, ladies.”
Ana startled, laughed, and placed a hand on her brother’s arm. “Brother, I would like to introduce you to my new acquaintance, Miss Butterfly. Miss Butterfly, please meet Mr. Stallion.”
As Elizabeth rose from her curtsy, she looked up at the gentleman. His air was imposing without being intimidating. Elizabeth could not see his face, for it was covered by a mask similar to Ana’s, but his jaw was strong and his stature magnificent. The light that shone from the dark eyes peeking through that mask was intelligent and self-assured. Ana always worried over her brother’s opinion, but as he looked upon his sister, Elizabeth could see only the most profound affection and perhaps just a touch of protectiveness when he moved his gaze from Ana to Elizabeth.
Already, she liked this man.
Darcy’s heart skipped a beat, just as it had when she arrived — then he thought her dressed as an angel, though now his sister introduced her as a butterfly.
Yes, a butterfly was perfect for her: at home in nature, alluring and enchanting, graceful and elegant.
Either way, she was most definitely the joyful nymph he had spotted flitting through his cornfields.
After watching her enter the ball, he had not been able to tear his eyes from her. She treated the farm boys who requested her hand in the dance as if they were princes, the very opposite of what he had seen other ladies do, proving her heart as open and unaffected as he expected.
As he had circled the dancefloor earlier, some of the gentry he passed were whispering about her behaviour, for they treated his tenants as if they were “less than,” but she did not. They found this quality disgraceful. He found it endearing.
Now, she stood before him, superior in beauty to them all. The deep green and blue of her mask matched the ribbons and embroidery of her snowy white gown, perfectly complementing the emerald colour of her eyes where good humour twinkled.
He could not help himself. “Are you engaged for the next dance?” Darcy asked before he realised he was speaking.
She shook her head. “I was just explaining to your sister that I have not been introduced to many of the guests. I am staying with—”
“Oh!” his sister exclaimed. “You must not mention any reference to who you are, Miss Butterfly, or it will spoil the fun of the masque.”
“As you wish, Miss Unicorn,” the sprite said and bowed her head.
Ana’s request seemed harmless enough, and if it made her happy, he would adhere to her rules. While he felt silly going by the name Mr. Stallion, and a bit guilty since he already knew the lady’s true identity, in a way, it was amusing and more of a relief than he would like to admit. To be nameless for the evening — anonymous to her, at least — was safe. Usually, when he was introduced to a lady by name, their demeanour changed, and he often saw calculation in their eyes. Although Miss Bennet did not seem the type to do so, it would be nice to get to know her character a little better without the chance of social status getting in the way.
“Since you are unengaged, may I claim the next set?” he asked.
“Yes, I thank you, sir,” she answered with a soft smile.
The trio spoke for several minutes before the music ended. Ana and Miss Bennet — no, he had best think of her as Miss Butterfly so he did not make a mistake — seemed to get along very well, indeed. When the first notes of the next set began, he escorted her to the floor. As he did so, he realised only the gentry were lining up for this one, whereas there was a mixture of the gentry, farmers, and staff who danced the sets before it.
The music started, and the couples began moving.
He never noticed this happening at past Harvest Balls, but then he danced so rarely. Did his presence on the dance floor intimidate his tenants?
Though he wished to make all of his guests comfortable, this ball was in honour of his tenants and staff. Responsibility for all those who depended upon him weighed heavily upon his shoulders, as always. He would not dance again this evening.
“You do not seem to be enjoying yourself, sir,” Miss Butterfly said as they passed each other.
“Excuse me?”
They moved close once again. “You were frowning. Would you rather sit out?”
He should direct his attention to his lovely partner! “Not at all. I apologize for becoming distracted.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Examining the expression in her eyes, he realised, amazingly enough, her offer was sincere.
He was not used to such concern from those who were not family members. However, it was impossible to explain without giving away who he was, and he was enjoying the anonymity.
He shook his head. “It is generous of you to offer.
The next time the movement brought her near, he asked, “Do you like to read, Miss Butterfly?”
Her answer was spoken in a sentence or phrase every time they met. “Yes, in fact, my thirst for books is insatiable. I have re-read the two books I brought with me for the coach ride, forcing me to raid my host’s library, which is quite limited. I have now learned more about sheep husbandry than I ever thought I would.” The smile visible below her mask was one of teasing.
“Is it not an interest of yours?” He grinned.
“Not at all, sir, although I must say the books did not bore me, either. I have merely run out of reading material.”
“There is a book shop in the village of Lambton that you may wish to visit.”
“Yes, I have called at Mr. Pike’s shop twice since arriving. Fortunately for me — though not considering my present circumstances — my father is also a voracious reader and directed me to procure a book or two that he does not already own, but I have yet to find one. I would not waste my father’s funds by purchasing something that is already in our library.”
“I am certain you would find something in Pemberley’s library that you have not already read.”
“Oh! But I would not presume to enter the manor house and take a book without an invitation from the Darcys, sir.”
He laughed for a moment at his blunder, but then recalled his earlier offer to the guests. “If I remember correctly, you arrived late and missed the announcement stating that anyone who wished to borrow a book from Pemberley may do so as long as they leave a note with their name, where they can be reached, and the title of the book.”
She smiled. “How generous of Miss and Mr. Darcy! I will ask my uncle to walk me to the manor house before the ball has ended.”
“My sister and I would be happy to escort you. If we leave soon, we will return in time to dine. You do not mind missing some of the dancing?”
“I do love to dance, sir, but my hosts are not in a position to introduce me to gentlemen. I have already danced with all of the farmers I know, and I am certain they would rather dance with girls closer to their age. A stroll up to the house might be just the thing to prevent me from having to sit out for several sets in a row.”
He was surprised at how much he anticipated the walk.
The song came to an end. They applauded the orchestra’s efforts, then she took his offered arm. “I accept, sir, as long as Mi
ss Unicorn is willing.”
He escorted her from the floor, directing her towards his sister.
Ana asked, “You will not dance the second of the set?”
Miss Butterfly said, “Your brother has offered to escort us up to the main house so I can borrow a book.”
Darcy’s heart warmed when Ana smiled and said, “That is a good idea.”
“I will collect my wrap and inform my aunt and uncle of our destination.”
“Allow me,” Darcy bowed and headed for the Johnstons’ table, for he should be the one to seek permission from her guardians.
CHAPTER 10
A thrill ran through Elizabeth, for Mr. Stallion did not require directions to where she had been sitting. That could only mean he noticed her before they were introduced.
What she could see of his face was handsome. His eyes were a deep, mysterious brown, and there was an adorable dimple in his cheek only just visible below his mask. He must enjoy sport quite a lot because his physique was unparalleled to most of the men she knew.
Afraid she was staring, Elizabeth tore her gaze from Mr. Stallion’s broad shoulders and looked at Ana. “Your costume is so beautiful, Miss Unicorn.”
“Thank you, Miss Butterfly. I do love your gown, as well.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “I must admit that, at first, I felt ridiculous hearing myself addressed that way, but I am getting used to it. It is all in good fun.”
Ana giggled.
“You and my brother made an elegant pair, perfectly matched in ability.”
Was Ana playing matchmaker? “Any talent must be credited to my mother, for she insisted that my sisters and I be taught by a master. To please her, and all of us, my father arranged for a teacher from London to come to our estate in Hertfordshire.” She opened her eyes wide. “He even taught us the waltz, in case there was ever a need.”
Ana gasped. “There will be no waltz here this evening, I am sure.”
Elizabeth was distracted by the sight of Mr. Stallion conversing with Mr. Johnston and the Gardiners. The gentleman must have introduced himself to them. Perhaps her aunt would disclose his name later, and she would finally learn Ana’s family name?
The men shook hands. Mr. Stallion stopped at his own table and retrieved Ana’s cloak, as well, then returned to them. He approached, helped Ana with her cloak, and draped Elizabeth’s across her shoulders.
His scent swirled around her — sandalwood mixed with some sort of citrus — warming her to the core, though it made her shiver.
The three set off, one lady on each of Mr. Stallion’s arms, retracing the path the Johnstons’ cart had taken on the way here.
From the shadows, George Wickham watched Darcy leave the ballroom with a woman on each arm.
One was Darcy’s sister, of course; not only had his informant told him what she was going to wear, but he had enough experience watching her without her knowledge to recognise precisely how she moved.
The other? He was not sure who she was.
While wearing a simple black mask and farmer’s clothing, Wickham had slipped into the ball and noticed Darcy dancing with that chit. It was such a novel experience, Wickham had to assume she was significant to his nemesis. Which made her very interesting to him, as well.
Although the mask hid the lady’s face, he could not help but notice how well she was formed. Just his type, in fact.
Since she must be seeking the Darcy fortune, of course — for there were none who would seek out that man’s dreary company for any other reason — she was a girl fashioned after his own heart. That also meant she would be bored with Darcy’s company by now.
Poor thing.
However, Wickham was quite willing to add a little excitement to her life.
As a new plan formed in his mind, he smiled. How he would savour the thought of Darcy’s expression when he discovered that he had designs on both the ladies Darcy escorted tonight.
Darcy and his women left the barn. Wickham followed.
The trio moved up the road and out of sight, toward the manor house. Most likely, Darcy planned to brag to the lady about each and every one of his possessions.
Wickham removed his mask and sought out the package he had hidden in a large bush not too far from the building. He untied the cloth wrapping and donned the clothing, cape, and horse mask that luscious Lucy had gotten him. Since Wickham was about the same height and build as his enemy, and the two has similar chestnut brown curls, he now looked almost identical to Darcy.
Nobody would notice the difference as long as he kept a dour expression on his face.
He chuckled to himself. While the pompous master was away, the charming imposter would play.
When inside the shearing shed earlier, Wickham watched while several unmarried ladies in attendance placed themselves in Darcy’s way. Darcy merely smiled politely and continued on. They obviously knew what Darcy was wearing, and they were already desperate for his attention.
It would be simple to raise an expectation or two and initiate a few rumours, achieving a step towards one of Wickham’s main ambitions in life: torturing Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Wickham stepped out from behind the bush, pulled on his black gloves, and strutted towards the large building, which vibrated with the stomping of many boots on the wood floors.
It was time for his kind of entertainment!
Strolling beyond the road, they now made their way down the path through the centre of the shrubbery garden behind the mansion.
“Shall we remove our masks?” Elizabeth asked.
Ana exclaimed, “No!”
Elizabeth startled. Why was Ana so upset with the suggestion?
A tense moment passed. Ana laughed, “We must take the rules of the masque seriously.”
Elizabeth nodded, though she did not understand.
They ascended another group of steps and continued toward the manor.
Elizabeth said, “As we passed here on our way to the ball, I thought these were evergreen hedgerows, but now I recognise that these are all flowering bushes. This garden must be magnificent in the summer months.”
Ana said, “Yes, it is like a rainbow when seen from the house.” She turned to her brother. “I believe some roses are still in bloom — perhaps we could enter the library through the rose garden doors?”
Mr. Stallion nodded.
It seemed as if the siblings knew the estate quite well. Perhaps they were friends with the Darcys?
Ana’s brother turned to Elizabeth. “You must spend a great deal of time outdoors if you recognise these shrubs.”
“I do. At home, my mornings are usually spent exploring my father’s estate. Although I enjoy riding, I prefer to make my way almost everywhere on foot.”
They fell into a comfortable silence until they rounded the side of the house. Elizabeth gasped at the sight of the rose garden. Following the path, they wound their way through the largest selection of rose bushes she had ever seen in one place. Clustered together by colour, the subtle differences in shade from one plant to the next stood out when seen en masse. All were perfectly lovely.
Mr. Stallion assisted the ladies up a short flight of steps to a stone veranda then opened a French door leading into the house. Ana entered first and turned to wait for Elizabeth as she passed through the doorway.
Shelves filled with books covered all walls from floor to a very high ceiling, and several stacks jutted out from the rear wall. To Elizabeth, it was a wonderland.
Elizabeth spun slowly around to take it all in. The room was two floors high. A staircase led to a wide walkway that ran along three walls of the massive chamber.
Movement on the far wall caught her attention. She turned to see a couple — tenants that Elizabeth recognised — were already inside. The woman curtsied while the man climbed down a ladder and bowed. He moved the ladder from one wall of shelves to the one next to it and then climbed up again to reach another book.
“I thought Longbourn’s library was extensive, but this must
hold a thousand times as many books as my father’s! I do not even know where to begin looking.” Elizabeth exclaimed. “From the little I have seen, Pemberley is nothing short of astonishing, inside and out.”
After roaming about the chamber for a quarter of an hour, Elizabeth found a book she would like to read. She approached a desk where ink and paper were set out. The page held a list of the books borrowed by others. She saw a couple of names she recognised, from tenant families she had met through the Johnstons. She wrote the title of the book she was borrowing, her name, the Johnstons’ name, and also Longbourn.
Realizing it was getting close to the time supper would be served, the group began their return to the shearing shed.
As they settled into their stride, Elizabeth asked, “What do you think of Mr. Darcy? I have been hoping to meet him while I in Derbyshire. I thought the ball might be the perfect opportunity.”
Two things happened at once. Ana’s eyes widened, and Mr. Stallion’s muscles stiffened under her hand.
Suddenly it dawned on Elizabeth that, if their roles were reversed, she would assume the lady’s intentions were mercenary. She had best explain.
“What you must think of me for posing such a question!” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I would not ordinarily share such troubles with people I just met.”
She glanced at the gentleman whose eyes had hardened. It was not a good sign.
Heat rose to her cheeks. “I do not want to give either of you the wrong impression. There is an estate near my home in Hertfordshire that is being neglected. The landowners in the area have written to the owner’s attorney about the problem, but nothing has changed. Recently my father rode into London — something he would not usually do except under the most extreme circumstances, for he detests Town. He went to speak with the owner’s solicitor, but my father was turned away. The steward, who only comes to Hertfordshire to collect the rents, is a scoundrel who does not take into account the tenants’ welfare in any way. From what we can tell, he is interested only in his own gain.
