No one would have been aware that Darcy was enraged. He escorted his wife inside the venue, smiled, nodded and occasionally half-bowed when required. Tonight he had a duty to perform and must put his anger aside.
Lizzy wasn't fooled for a minute – she knew there would be a reckoning once they were in Grosvenor Square. The host's idea of an informal supper party did not coincide with his own view on the matter. The place was uncomfortably full, with scarcely elbow room in the first reception chamber.
It should be less unpleasant away from the crush. I have seen the Sinclair family and you must make an effort to become acquainted with Lady Sinclair.'
'As you have failed to inform me of the appearance of this person how do you expect me to recognise her?' The words were spoken civilly but he knew her well enough to be able to detect the disdain in her response. Although others would not have noticed, she was aware of his ill-humour towards her.
He forced a smile but it failed to convince her. She remained aloof and raised an enquiring eyebrow. 'I am waiting, sir, do you intend to tell me what these people look like or not?'
'Lady Sinclair is wearing a hideous ensemble in what could be described as puce. She has a matching turban with feathers – one would have to be blind not to see her.'
'And Miss Sinclair?' She tapped her foot and he barely bit back what would have been an inappropriate response to this provocative gesture.
'The young lady in question has russet hair and her gown is pink. Is that sufficient information for you?'
She removed her hand from his arm and nodded regally. 'Indeed it is, Mr Darcy. No doubt speaking to Sir Robert is beyond my capabilities so I will leave that difficult task to you.'
She walked away and he could not help but be aware how many gentlemen turned to watch her progress. She was a diamond of the first water and however much he might wish to strangle her at the moment he could not deny that to him she was the loveliest woman in the room.
There were to be cards played so there must be a room set aside for this purpose. As neither young Sinclair nor his father were visible he must suppose they had already made their way there. The description he had given her of these two gentlemen was equally explicit. Sir Robert was a man of middle years with grey hair which he wore fashionably short. He was tall and thin and had a penchant for lurid waistcoats.
His son was of similar stature but with broad shoulders. His hair was the same colour as his sister's. Having so distinctive a feature made finding them amongst the crowd much easier. He shouldered his way to the card room and immediately saw his quarries about to sit at a table set out for four. He reached the final chair and placed his hand on it possessively a second before another gentleman.
'I hope I may join you. This is the only safe place to be tonight – and here I intend to remain until my wife allows me to leave.' He nodded at the three men around the table and sat down. 'Darcy, at your service.'
Sinclair introduced himself and his son, and the fourth member of the group grunted an unintelligible response. This did not bode well. The man was already in his cups and might disrupt his plans by his behaviour.
'What are we playing tonight, gentlemen? Loo, Vingt-et-un or Piquet?' All three were gambling games as he doubted that his companions would wish to play something as tame as Whist.
'Loo, but we can change to one of the others later on if you require,' Sir Robert said.
His son and the anonymous player nodded. Darcy had come prepared and had both coins and flimsies with him and was ready to lose it all if necessary. He was an expert card player so expected to leave the table better off than when he sat down.
After an hour things were even between him and Sir Robert. The fourth person had stumbled off and his place had been taken by a jovial gentleman who failed to introduce himself. Despite this man's bluff appearance he was sharp-eyed and an expert player.
They had been supplied with mediocre claret which the others had drunk in quantity. He still had a half-full glass beside him.
When the current hand was completed – he had been the winner – he stood up but left his winnings by his place. 'Excuse me, gentlemen, I'm going to find a decent wine. This should not take overlong. I cannot play all evening with only this revolting stuff to drink.'
Young Sinclair immediately stood up. 'I'm with you on that, sir. Pa can watch your winnings, can't you?'
'Delighted to do so, old fellow. Now you come to mention it, this claret is filth. Make sure you bring sufficient for all of us.'
Darcy waylaid a footman with his request. He slipped the man a guinea and was instantly assured that from this point forward a plentiful supply of the best claret available would be served to them.
'We shall not go in for supper, so have some brought to us on a tray.' Mr Sinclair had watched this exchange with admiration.
'I say, sir, that was capital. Best to have food when one is drinking.'
'Is your father a hardened gambler?' This was not a comment likely to endear him but something about this young man made him think he could not possibly be involved in anything nefarious.
'I fear so. Despite the substantial estates he owns, and his more than adequate income, we are constantly hiding from the bailiffs – we never know from one quarter to the next if there will be the wherewithal to pay the tradesmen's bills.' He smiled confidingly. 'However, six months ago our fortunes changed as a business venture of papa's paid out handsomely. I don't like to gamble myself, nor drink to excess, but I promised my mother to remain with him and see he didn't lose too heavily tonight.' The young man pulled a face. 'Mama believes me to be of the same ilk as my father, but I accompany him about Town in an effort to prevent him from destroying the family.'
Darcy patted Sinclair's shoulder. Normally he was averse to physical contact but believed this gesture would help the relationship progress. 'I give you my word that anything I win from your father will be returned. I've never ruined anyone and don't intend to start doing so tonight.'
*
Lizzy watched Fitzwilliam make his way through the crowd. She couldn't help but be aware how people stepped aside for him as if he were royalty. Was it the fact that he was so tall or just because he carried an air of authority about him?
He would accomplish his objective so she must do the same. As she was only of medium height she could not see over the heads of the milling crowd. However, the puce feathers on Lady Sinclair's turban acted as a beacon. All she had to do was keep her eye on those and then she should have no difficulty finding the two ladies she wished to become acquainted with.
She could hardly walk straight up to them and introduce herself as that would seem odd. She must contrive an incident that would make it possible to speak to them. The woman's strident tones carried clearly across the chamber. Lizzy was sure the space around the Sinclair ladies was a direct result of the string of complaints the woman was directing to anyone who was foolish enough to pause in her vicinity.
Perhaps a collision of some sort would serve the purpose. Lizzy backed out of the crowd as if escaping from someone she wasn't inclined to speak to and deliberately walked into Miss Sinclair. The girl was standing a yard or two away from her mother looking as if she wished she wasn't related to her.
'I beg your pardon, did I tread on your gown?' Lizzy apologised.
'No, ma'am, you did not. Although I would have been pleased if you had so I could retire to have it mended.'
Lady Sinclair was still in full flow and had now moved on to the poor quality of the wine being served. She was obviously under the impression that her daughter was standing beside her and listening to her whereas she was in fact apparently talking to herself.
Several ladies were already nodding and smirking and Lizzy decided she would intervene. She placed her hand on Miss Sinclair's arm. 'I am Mrs Elizabeth Darcy – to whom am I speaking?'
'I am Annabel Sinclair and that is my mother, Lady Sinclair.' The girl almost shuddered as she looked towards her parent.
'T
hen, my dear, you must introduce me to her.'
Annabel's expression of relief and gratitude made Lizzy wish she didn't have to dissemble.
'Mama, I have just met Mrs Darcy and she would like to make your acquaintance.'
The garrulous lady stopped in midsentence and turned. She was immediately aware she was talking to a member of the ton and nodded regally. 'I'm delighted to meet you, Mrs Darcy. Would you be related to the Darcy family from Pemberley in Derbyshire?'
Lizzy returned the nod. 'I am married to Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Lady Sinclair. It is a sad squash in here. Shall we find somewhere more comfortable to converse? Darcy has abandoned me to play cards so I doubt I will see him again until it is time to leave.'
'Sir Robert is of a similar disposition, Mrs Darcy. I dislike cards of any sort. Annabel, is that an empty table behind the pillar over there?'
'It is, Mama.' The girl dashed off leaving Lizzy and her new companion to follow at a more sedate pace.
As they crossed the chamber she spied a footman and beckoned him. 'I should like champagne and orgeat to be brought to the table over there.' She slipped the man a coin and he bowed and set off on his errand.
Once they were comfortably settled her ladyship became less acerbic and the hectic colour along her cheeks began to fade. 'Mrs Darcy, I cannot tell you how much I dislike these overcrowded parties.'
Lizzy hid her smile behind her hand. She, and anyone in the vicinity, had already heard more than enough on that subject.
'I become anxious and know I say too much, and most of it things better left unspoken. I apologise if I might inadvertently have offended you.'
'My lady, I share your aversion to crowds. I only came because my husband insisted that I accompany him. We shall do much better here together where it's quiet.'
The footman returned and placed the glasses on the table before vanishing. They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes. Lizzy thought she might have misjudged Lady Sinclair.
'Do you intend to dance later, Miss Sinclair?'
'No, ma'am, I don't intend to. Like Mama I'm not comfortable in company.' The girl blushed and lowered her eyes.
Lady Sinclair patted her daughter's hand affectionately. 'I despair of you, my love, and believe I shall never find you a husband you can be comfortable with.' She turned to Lizzy. 'My son, however, is a man about Town and has no interest in the estate. The good Lord did not see fit to give me progeny who would conform to what one might expect.' She sighed sadly. 'If only Sir Robert would accept that his daughter has no need to make an advantageous marriage, or his son to spend his time in the country, my life would be so much less fraught.'
'No doubt I shall have the same dilemma when my children are grown. I have twins but they are not yet a year old so I have many years before needing to deal with a similar problem.'
'Which do you prefer, Mrs Darcy? The countryside or the city?' Miss Sinclair asked eagerly.
'I much prefer to remain in Derbyshire and have people visit me. We are having a house party in May. Would you care to join us at Pemberley?' Lizzy would not have invited strangers so readily to her house under normal circumstances and she hoped they would not think it odd of her to have done so, so soon in their acquaintance.
'How kind of you to ask us when we have only just met. Are you quite sure Mr Darcy will not object?'
Oh dear! Fitzwilliam's character was obviously known to Lady Sinclair. 'He leaves such matters to me, my lady, he does not concern himself with domestic details. Indeed, Pemberley is so large if we had a hundred visitors he could still remain apart from them if he so desired.'
'In which case, my dear Mrs Darcy, I'm delighted to accept your kind invitation on behalf of myself, Sir Robert and my children. It will be a pleasure to get out of the smoke and smell of London for a week or so in the middle of the Season.'
'Mama, do you think that Papa and Richard can be persuaded to leave Town just as things are becoming more lively?'
This was something that Lizzy would like the answer to as well. She drained her glass of champagne and stood up. 'Perhaps you could call tomorrow and let me know your answer? I can then give you a card with all the necessary information. We are in Grosvenor Square – I'm sure your coachman will know which house.'
'How fortuitous! We too are residing in the same place. I'd no idea you would be our neighbours.'
Lizzy shook out her skirts, nodded and smiled. Mission accomplished. Well, half-completed as she had yet to meet the Hall family. Tomorrow it might be possible to turn the conversation around to any friends Lady Sinclair might have in Town and then somehow include them in the invitation.
*
Darcy made sure he didn't win too much from anyone, but Sir Robert continued to lose heavily to the other gentlemen at the table. Sinclair had willingly relinquished his seat an hour or so ago and disappeared to join his cronies.
The man must have lost a small fortune already if the pile of vowels accumulating in front of the other players was anything to go by. He was thankful when supper was brought to them on a tray. He noticed that only two other tables were being served in this way – everyone else had left their cards and gone to find their food in the dining room.
In order for the food to be placed in front of them the game had to stop. The gentleman, although this was a misnomer as he was an uncouth individual, who held the vowels scooped them up and rammed them in his pocket.
'I expect your debts to be paid by the end of the week, Sinclair. You know where to find me.' The man pushed back his chair and shoved his way out of the room leaving an uncomfortable silence behind him.
The third player pushed the chits across to Sir Robert. 'Playing for the fun of it, old chap, tear these up.' He too got to his feet and strolled off leaving Darcy alone with his quarry.
He poured two glasses of claret and pushed one across. 'Drink this, you look as if you need it.'
'I do, Darcy, dipped too deep as usual. Don't have the wherewithal to settle – will have to take a repairing lease until I'm in funds again.'
Sir Robert helped himself from the selection of cold cuts and pasties. His losses hadn't affected his appetite. The food was surprisingly palatable considering the quality of the wine they had been served earlier.
After both plates were empty Darcy snapped his fingers and the table was cleared immediately. 'I've no wish to play anymore. I must find my wife. She will be eager to leave as she doesn't enjoy these evenings. I suggest that you do the same.'
The man scowled at him. 'It's all very well for someone like you, someone with deep pockets, it wouldn't matter how much you lost you would always have enough to cover your debts. I need to recoup and I ain’t leaving until I've done so.'
'You are already in over your head, don't make it worse. You could lose your estate if you carry on this way.'
'It's none of your business. I'll do as I damn well please. We’re strangers – why should you care if I'm ruined?'
Darcy stood up. 'I don't have an opinion either way, Sir Robert. I was merely offering you sound advice.' He turned as if to go and then turned back. 'Think of your wife and children, sir, do they deserve to be destitute because of your gambling?'
He made his way into the next chamber which was now far less crowded than before. Presumably the guests had drifted away to find their supper. He looked at his watch and was shocked to see how much time had passed. Lizzy had been left to her own devices for far too long.
He checked throughout the reception rooms and was unable to find her. Eventually he sent a footman to enquire if his carriage had already been called for. It had – his wife had gone home almost two hours ago leaving him to walk.
This was the outside of enough. She was well aware he didn't have his cane, or a male servant to accompany him. Although the journey home was less than a mile, and did not require him to walk anywhere unsafe, it was unwise for any gentleman to be abroad on the streets late at night.
To add to his annoyance it started to
rain heavily halfway home. By the time he reached his destination he was drenched to the skin and chilled to the marrow. He took the stairs two at a time. What he had to say to her could not wait until the morning.
Chapter Eleven
The clock in the sitting room of their apartment struck midnight as Fitzwilliam thundered down the passageway. She'd been regretting her decision not to ask the carriage to return for him since the rain had started half an hour ago. Making her husband walk home was one thing, obliging him to get soaked was quite another.
He was going to be very cross indeed and she hoped she could defuse his anger by telling him the good news about Lady Sinclair. The fire was burning merrily and the room was pleasantly warm. His valet had been dismissed by him earlier, so he would have to disrobe without help.
She was already in her night attire but had remained awake so she could talk to him. There was a decanter of brandy waiting, a pot of coffee keeping warm in the grate and a plate of assorted pastries on the side table. Hopefully this would be enough to soothe the savage beast before she was given a severe set-down.
From the noise in his bedchamber he was removing his wet garments and getting into his nightshirt and bedrobe. The door was ajar – but she had no candles lit so perhaps he didn't realise she was in here. Did he believe that she had retired to her own bed?
Then he burst in, his hair on end and his expression alarmed. 'Thank God! When I looked next door and your bed was empty I almost had an apoplexy. I thought you had not returned.' In two strides he was beside her and she tumbled into his arms.
'I am so sorry, my love, I should have sent the carriage back…'
'We'll discuss that later, sweetheart, now I have better things to do.'
This was the first time they had made love on the floor but despite the obvious disadvantages she very much enjoyed the experience. A delightful and satisfactory time later she sat up.
'I have refreshments waiting.' She attempted to wriggle free of his embrace but he tightened his hold pulling her back against his chest. They were now both propped up against the chaise longue, their limbs entangled and the only covering their discarded nightwear.
A Spy at Pemberley Page 9
