Page 53 of Master of Himself

Caroline released a contented sigh. “How true. There’s something so comforting in the sound of the rain, is there not?”

“I can sleep anytime, if I’m being honest,” Henry said.

“Yes, Henry, we’re all well aware of your sleeping prowess,” Louisa said in a patronising tone.

Charles agreed with this observation; he’d seen Henry sleep in crowded rooms.

“I trust you’ve abandoned the idea of holding a ball, Charles,” Caroline said with a superior air.

Although Darcy made no reply, neither did she bother to wait for his answer.

“It was a terrible idea. I can only the imagine the trouble Louisa and I would have had securing a proper orchestra, food, wine, and flowers, to say nothing of the interruption to the household,” she said, her brow creased at this perceived hardship.

“You may put your mind at ease, Caroline,” Darcy said. “I won’t hold a ball this year.”

“I should think we could host a far better event at Grosvenor. Don’t you agree, Louisa?”

“Certainly. Perhaps we should plan a holiday ball, Henry,” Louisa said in high alt, as though inspired. “It would be just the thing.”

“What a marvellous idea,” Caroline said, as though they hadn’t planned this discussion. “We could invite all your friends in town, Charles, including Miss Destiny.”

Charles was conscious of his sister’s blatant attempt to divert his attention from Jane, but he had scarcely given the fair lady in London a single thought since he had come to Hertfordshire.

“I suppose no one thinks of the interruption to my household, but perhaps I am mistaken,” Henry said in a perturbed tone.

Caroline and Louisa exchanged irritated glances but said no more on the subject, which suited Charles perfectly. Besides, he had more important matters to consider. It was finally time to put their plan into action.

After breakfast, Charles suggested retiring to the billiard room, which was the only place in the house where the ladies had no entry. However, other than billiards and cards, there was precious little to do there. “How shall we pass the time?” he inquired.

“I suggest you and Darcy practice your boxing skills,” Henry said. “Your form needs work, Charles.”

“Are you now an expert on the sport?” Charles said, knowing full well that his brother-in-law had no athletic skills.

Henry assumed a serious mien. “By no means, but I’ve seen plenty of matches. Proper form is the key to success. Fists up, elbows tucked in, knees bent, footwork nimble,” he said, demonstrating each position.

Recalling their previous session, Charles hesitated. “Can we agree there will be no punishing blows? Mr Hobbs has already remarked on my bruised shoulder.”

“Agreed,” Darcy said, removing his coat. “Caroline won’t fail to notice any visible bruises.”

By the time the men called for their coats, umbrellas, and lanterns that night, the rain had returned with a vengeance. Convinced that the time had finally come, Charles followed Darcy and Henry out of the house.

“This is what we’ve waited for, lads, and we must use it to our best advantage,” Henry said as they walked towards the gates.

No one with any sense would venture out of doors in this weather, but Charles surrendered his umbrella to Henry, then positioned himself in the muddy lane, ready and willing to repeat every manoeuvre that had previously failed. He ignored the mud and threw his heart into the effort, heaving himself into Darcy and allowing Darcy to do the same.

All he managed to gain from his trouble was a thorough drenching.

In the mud room, Charles decided against waiting for his valet, stripped down to his breeches and headed for the stairs. Once in his chamber, he rang for Hobbs. While he waited, he removed his rain-soaked breeches and scrubbed himself with the cold water in the wash basin.

“Oh my,” Mr Hobbs said in despairing tones upon observing the state of the washstand.

“I apologise for the mess. Rather than leaving a trail of mud, I’ve left everything downstairs.”

“I’ll see to it after I’ve fetched your nightshirt,” Hobbs said, then dashed away.

Shivering near the fire, Charles hoped he hadn’t caught a chill.

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