Page 22 of Master of Himself

She had overheard his damnable comments at the assembly. He hadn’t meant for her to hear him — or perhaps he had. He’d been in a fit of temper that night and wanted nothing more than to put an end to any pretentions in that quarter. No daughter of an impoverished gentleman would do for Darcy.

Or so he had thought at the time.

He had since learned that the Bennets were a prominent and highly regarded family in the community, and while not precisely impoverished, with five marriageable daughters with modest dowries, their chances of making exceptional matches were somewhat diminished.

He groaned internally; he’d been a contemptable ass that night. If he’d been master of himself, he wouldn’t now be required to make amends for insulting a lady worthy of only the highest praise.

Unable to recover from her unintended but well deserved set-down, he abandoned his supper, resorting to the wine to fill that hollow space inside him.

After the ladies had removed to the drawing room, Darcy relinquished his seat at the head of the table to Charles. “Miss Elizabeth is still quite annoyed with me for my comment at the assembly,” he said as his host served the port to him and Hurst.

“Of course she is,” Charles said, without hesitating. “You said she wasn’t handsome enough. I was never so embarrassed by your high-handed conduct that night.”

As strange as it might seem, Darcy distinctly recalled losing his temper with Caroline for this precise reason. “I didn’t mean to insult her.”

“Didn’t you? What did you mean, then?” Charles said in an accusing tone that Darcy hadn’t previously heard from his amiable friend.

“I didn’t give it much thought.”

“You gave it no thought whatsoever, except to flaunt your superiority to those of lesser standing.”

Stung by his friend’s admonishment, Darcy clenched his jaw. Did Charles really find him that pretentious?

“Miss Elizabeth is a gentleman’s daughter and a fine-looking woman, as you well know. You had no cause to demean her and ought to apologise.”

Now uncomfortably warm, Darcy tugged at his cravat. “Yes, Charles, that’s what I meant to ask you. Will you apologise to her for me? I don’t wish for her to have a poor opinion of me.”

“Yes, I’ll speak with her, but don’t even think of saying anything like that again. You are under my roof, I’ll remind you, regardless of our present circumstances.”

Darcy squeezed his eyes shut, cringing at his friend’s set-down, which had been delivered in Darcy’s own uncompromising voice. “I beg your pardon, Charles.”

Hurst chuckled quietly. “The worm has turned.”

Bingley scowled. “And I’ll have no more of your insipid jokes, Henry. You ought to be helping us, rather than making light of this situation.”

Although Darcy appreciated Charles’s comment, he doubted Henry Hurst could offer any assistance in resolving this dilemma, especially while inebriated. No, if this fiasco were ever to be reversed, he and Charles must find the solution.

Chapter 10

Charles had once thought of Darcy as ‘top of the trees’ and tended to overlook his bad behaviour. Since his friend was older and more experienced than Charles, he had previously kept to his own counsel despite Darcy’s frequent lapses in propriety. But now he could no longer ignore that his friend was sometimes rude, or downright surly. He had finally reached his limit and had called Darcy to account.

Charles had never lost his temper in such a fierce manner before, but he couldn’t be sorry that he had voiced his opinion about Darcy’s incivility. To his credit, Darcy had admitted his error and was eager to make amends.

However, as the men joined Caroline, Louisa, and Miss Elizabeth in the drawing room, Charles regretted his outburst. How hypocritical he had been to chastise his friend’s poor conduct when he had failed to correct his sisters’ horrid manners these last few years. If he’d taken a firmer stance with them, they wouldn’t have embarrassed him on innumerable occasions in the past, and worse yet, in his new home.

Now blue-devilled, Charles declined to play cards, but Darcy and Henry agreed to play piquet. Louisa sat with them to observe their game while Miss Elizabeth worked on an embroidery project, and Caroline wandered around the room in search of her own amusement.

Before disaster had struck, Darcy had spent many evenings lost in the pages of a book. Although Darcy was an avid reader, Charles suspected his friend had employed this tactic as a means of avoiding Caroline’s relentless attention. Determined to follow Darcy’s example, Charles took up a book and devoted his attention to it. While reading wasn’t his favourite pastime, he hoped for a reprieve from his inquisitive sister.

Naturally, Caroline’s need for attention compelled her to speak. “I trust Miss Darcy is well.”

“Quite well.” Despite being unaware the contents of the letter, Charles assumed that much was true.

“Louisa and I are extraordinarily fond of her. Does she send any news from town?”

Charles kept his eyes focused on the page. “Nothing to signify.”

“I’m quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table.”