“The Shepherd of Derbyshire.”
Ashton’s brow furrowed.
“Curious choice. I would have wagered on something like, ‘Lord Perpetually Displeased.’ Why the shepherd?”
“According to my sister, he tends his friend like a prized sheep, carefully guiding him through society’s narrow gates.”
“Ha!” Ashton’s laugh was sharp. “Accurate, though outdated. The shepherd has released his lamb to a less tended field.”
Lord Blake’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed? When did this occur?”
“Earlier this week, Bingley’s sister committed several egregious social blunders without a hint of contrition.” Darcy grimaced at the memory. “When I suggested a tactical retreat from London’s society until the waves of gossip had settled, Bingley declared our acquaintance a misfortune, and we agreed to part company.”
“Miss Bingley’s tongue proved to be their undoing. She disparaged not only a niece of the Cavendish family, but also the daughters of Earl Rumley. That became the final nail in her proverbial coffin of banishment,” Ashton said with a small shake of his head. “I, myself, refused an introduction.”
The gentlemen paused and watched the guests swirl by them in various shades of silk and extravagant waistcoats.
“This new Earl Rumley, who is he?” Ashton asked. “The man has been a ghost since inheriting the title late last year.”
“I know little beyond what Mother mentioned, that he and his countess received a royal summons to St. James’s.”
Darcy’s brow furrowed at this peculiarity. Newly minted earls had no obligation for court presentation. What warranted such attention? Lord Blake, noting his friend’s expression, pressed on.
“The new countess never had a formal curtsey in her youth. Mother remarked she must have been quite the beauty, for she is still handsome, and her two daughters were positively radiant.”
“Your mother attended the presentation?” Darcy’s eyebrow arched slightly.
“Indeed. She takes tea with the Queen regularly, and often accompanies the royal retinue for such occasions.”
“Two daughters were present?”
“Her Majesty enquired after a third, apparently a recluse with no taste for society. No others were mentioned.”
“Where is the earl’s family seat?” asked Darcy.
“Somewhere in Bedfordshire. The precise location escapes me. After the previous earl lost his son some six or seven years ago, the family withdrew entirely from society. Little else is known.”
“The family name?”
“Benning... or perhaps Benton.” Lord Blake’s shoulders lifted in apology as he tapped his temple. “Names slip through my mind like water unless I have met the person. I need a face to anchor them in this inadequate vessel of memory.”
After concluding their discourse, the three gentlemen parted ways, and Darcy, deeming it an appropriate hour to take his leave without causing offense, sought out his hostess. Upon locating Lady Glanworth, he offered his appreciation for the evening’s entertainment and conveyed his intention to depart.
“You are leaving quite early for a young man, Darcy,” the lady had exclaimed. “I am certain I only saw you dance once this evening, and must now surrender a guinea to my husband. I had wagered that you would honour at least two young ladies with your attention.”
The muscle in Darcy’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, though his expression remained perfectly composed. He loathed being the subject of such trivial betting.
“I must beg your understanding, Lady Glanworth. Colonel Fitzwilliam and I are bound for Kent at dawn to call upon Lady Catherine. Given the recent rains, we need to take into consideration they may have rendered the roads quite treacherous.”
Many observed his exit, but their opinions mattered little to him. If only he could avoid these tedious social affairs altogether. It was complete and utter devotion to his sister that compelled him to suffer through the calculated manoeuvres of London’s elite. The city itself offered him no charm. Though business necessitated his presence, and he occasionally found pleasure in theatrical performances or exhibitions, his soul belonged to Pemberley alone. All that remained was for him to find a woman who would gladly rusticate in the wilds of Derbyshire with him, and inherently knew he would not find her among society’s glittering debutantes.
Chapter Ten
“You are very dulltonight, Darcy. What has you languishing near the fireplace.”
“It is nothing, Lady Catherine. I received a troubling letter from a friend, and need some time to formulate a response.”
Darcy folded the letter he had received from Hurst prior to his departure for Kent, and slid it into his waistcoat pocket. The news within painted a dark picture with regard to Charles and Caroline Bingley, confirming what Darcy had learned from the investigator he hired.