Fine Eyes and Pert Opinions by Maria Grace

Author:Maria Grace [Grace, Maria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780999798416
Publisher: White Soup Press
Published: 2019-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Over the next two days, Darcy’s ankle remained inflamed and grew more painful by the hour. The housekeeper and his valet flitted in and out of the parlor with cool compresses, wrappings, and willow bark tea. Miss Garland offered more soothing syrup, but, given the headache and the disquieting dreams he suffered having taken it once, he declined. A glass of brandy addled his mind and spirit much less.

He leaned back into the fainting couch, his head throbbing—the consequences of sleeping too much. With the parlor drapes drawn so tight, the sunrise stood no chance of rousing him at a proper hour. Oh, for a proper bit of activity. How many hours had he spent staring at the ceiling roses now? Long enough to know each one by name as well as the spider that had taken up residence in the corner nearest the fireplace.

Naming spiders surely was not a good sign. Perhaps that soothing syrup still had lingering effects.

Were those memories or dreams of a conversation with Miss Elizabeth? Had she spent the night in the parlor with his foot propped in her lap, reclining awkwardly next to him? The things he might have said to her. Snippets, mortifying snippets teased him, but more substantial memories remained tantalizingly out of reach.

Just as did the lady herself.

He stretched against the fainting couch’s too-firm cushions. When he recovered, he would surely have the piece refitted to be more comfortable. Or perhaps simply burnt.

He grumbled. Was there no comfortable attitude on this blasted chair? Why had Miss Elizabeth not been to see him?

Everyone else in the house, including Miss Garland, had been to the parlor to keep company with him. She had been very amusing, whilst she stayed. But her visits had been brief. Miss Elizabeth would have stayed as long as he had wished for her to. She was good company when one was laid up.

A knock—too loud to be Miss Elizabeth’s, sounded at the door frame. He jumped and craned his neck.

“How are you feeling this morning, Darcy?” Bingley sauntered in. How dare he sound so pleased with life.

“Beastly.”

“I though you would have enjoyed a solid excuse to remain away from your noisy party these past two days.” He pulled a chair near and sat, one arm draped casually over the back.

Had Bingley never learned proper posture?

“I am glad you consider my hospitality so pleasing.” Darcy crossed his arms over his chest.

“You do not mean to tell me you have suddenly developed a taste for large parties and loud companions?”

Darcy grumbled under his breath. “Pray open the curtains whilst you are here.”

“That is more like you. You must be feeling better. When do you think you will be up and about again?” Bingley laughed and threw open the drapes. Cool morning sun poured into the room. The walls matched the morning sky.

“I have no idea. Mrs. Reynolds thinks a fortnight before I am fit to even use walking sticks.” Darcy struggled into a sitting position, balancing his ankle on a nearby stool.

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