She did not care much for mashed peas, either.
Had she discovered a kindred spirit?
As for Hugh, his attention was torn. Seated next to him was Miss Anne de Bourgh, a set-up by their overeager parents obviously meant to advance their acquaintance. However, the placement was causing Hugh some frustration, as the young woman spoke so softly that he found it necessary to lean toward her to catch her words. As her host he was desirous of giving her his full attention and of responding correctly to her statements, yet her pip-squeak of a voice was barely audible.
He was constantly apologizing, and asking her to repeat herself, hence Miss de Bourgh was forced to proclaim, “The partridge is exceedingly moist,” twice before he could understand and then agree. The young Anne’s quiet demeanor was a marked contrast from that of her mother, whose conversations could be heard quite clearly above the din of the dinner service from any seat at the table. When not leaning toward the young Miss de Bourgh in a vain attempt to capture her whispered observations, Hugh’s eyes found themselves drifting frequently across the table and coming to rest repeatedly on the lovely face of Georgiana Darcy, whose placement directly across from him provided a lovely respite from the toil of conversing with Miss de Bourgh.
He quickly shook off Georgiana’s momentary change of mood from earlier in the evening, for the woman across the table from him seemed eager to meet his eye and was free with her smiles. Alas, the table was too wide across to allow easy conversation between the two of them, nevertheless, he felt their inability to converse led them to a playful exchange of glances. Indeed, her flirtatiousness made his heart beat slightly faster than usual, causing him to lose interest in his meal. His loss of appetite surprised him, for he had thought himself ravenous before sitting down to dinner.
He made a decision right then that he would devote the next few days to learning as much as possible about Georgiana Darcy. Or as much as she herself, or her companions, would easily divulge. He was much looking forward to the entire process. Although, on second thought, he wondered, what could there be to learn? Georgiana Darcy looked about the same age as his sister Charlotte, and was obviously as well bred. She was strictly supervised; she herself admitted her brother would not leave her unattended at Pemberley.
Although she alluded to childish errors of judgment, he imagined that her life paralleled Charlotte’s, the right governess, a good education, accomplished in the arts or music or needlework. Perhaps if he was lucky she was a practiced horsewoman. There was a certain guarantee of innocence in a woman as rich and beautiful as she was. No, a young woman of her pedigree at her age had little chance for scandal attached to her, especially with a watchdog like Fitzwilliam Darcy at her side. He would most certainly show his fangs to any unwanted suitors, Hugh was sure of that.
But he was getting ahead of himself. He could not yet be sure that he had the personal qualities that would capture her heart. Likewise she could be fickle, or cloying, or untrue. He should not jump ahead to the future, and not imagine their children running on the grounds or her portrait installed in the gallery next to his mother’s.
What a beautiful subject for a portrait she would make, he sighed, noting she was as sleek and polished as the most expensive of racehorses.
From her hawk-eyed view across the table, Lady Catherine observed with pleasure the young Mr. Radcliffe leaning toward her daughter Anne most attentively every time she spoke. She also caught the young man glancing her way several times, as if seeking maternal approval, like the well-bred young man she expected him to be.
What an encouraging sign !
She wondered whether she should go into London for Anne’s wedding clothes or stick with their local dressmaker. Perhaps her hostess, Lady
Had she discovered a kindred spirit?
As for Hugh, his attention was torn. Seated next to him was Miss Anne de Bourgh, a set-up by their overeager parents obviously meant to advance their acquaintance. However, the placement was causing Hugh some frustration, as the young woman spoke so softly that he found it necessary to lean toward her to catch her words. As her host he was desirous of giving her his full attention and of responding correctly to her statements, yet her pip-squeak of a voice was barely audible.
He was constantly apologizing, and asking her to repeat herself, hence Miss de Bourgh was forced to proclaim, “The partridge is exceedingly moist,” twice before he could understand and then agree. The young Anne’s quiet demeanor was a marked contrast from that of her mother, whose conversations could be heard quite clearly above the din of the dinner service from any seat at the table. When not leaning toward the young Miss de Bourgh in a vain attempt to capture her whispered observations, Hugh’s eyes found themselves drifting frequently across the table and coming to rest repeatedly on the lovely face of Georgiana Darcy, whose placement directly across from him provided a lovely respite from the toil of conversing with Miss de Bourgh.
He quickly shook off Georgiana’s momentary change of mood from earlier in the evening, for the woman across the table from him seemed eager to meet his eye and was free with her smiles. Alas, the table was too wide across to allow easy conversation between the two of them, nevertheless, he felt their inability to converse led them to a playful exchange of glances. Indeed, her flirtatiousness made his heart beat slightly faster than usual, causing him to lose interest in his meal. His loss of appetite surprised him, for he had thought himself ravenous before sitting down to dinner.
He made a decision right then that he would devote the next few days to learning as much as possible about Georgiana Darcy. Or as much as she herself, or her companions, would easily divulge. He was much looking forward to the entire process. Although, on second thought, he wondered, what could there be to learn? Georgiana Darcy looked about the same age as his sister Charlotte, and was obviously as well bred. She was strictly supervised; she herself admitted her brother would not leave her unattended at Pemberley.
Although she alluded to childish errors of judgment, he imagined that her life paralleled Charlotte’s, the right governess, a good education, accomplished in the arts or music or needlework. Perhaps if he was lucky she was a practiced horsewoman. There was a certain guarantee of innocence in a woman as rich and beautiful as she was. No, a young woman of her pedigree at her age had little chance for scandal attached to her, especially with a watchdog like Fitzwilliam Darcy at her side. He would most certainly show his fangs to any unwanted suitors, Hugh was sure of that.
But he was getting ahead of himself. He could not yet be sure that he had the personal qualities that would capture her heart. Likewise she could be fickle, or cloying, or untrue. He should not jump ahead to the future, and not imagine their children running on the grounds or her portrait installed in the gallery next to his mother’s.
What a beautiful subject for a portrait she would make, he sighed, noting she was as sleek and polished as the most expensive of racehorses.
From her hawk-eyed view across the table, Lady Catherine observed with pleasure the young Mr. Radcliffe leaning toward her daughter Anne most attentively every time she spoke. She also caught the young man glancing her way several times, as if seeking maternal approval, like the well-bred young man she expected him to be.
What an encouraging sign !
She wondered whether she should go into London for Anne’s wedding clothes or stick with their local dressmaker. Perhaps her hostess, Lady
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