Mr. Darcy's Daughters by Elizabeth Aston Read Free Book Online

considered how Letty despised a jilt, and what fun it would be to tease Tom when next they saw him, how foolish he would look, and he was bound to come to London, was he not?
    Dawson’s expression was severe, for although her own mistress was a volatile creature, she didn’t hold with such conduct as this. How could Miss allow herself to show her feelings so?
    Camilla could see Dawson eyeing the jug of water that held flowers; to be strewn with damp leaves and green water might bring Letty to her senses, but at the cost of much mortification, not to mention a ruined gown, and one she had only put on for the first time that morning. She stepped forward to administer a firm slap to Letty’s cheek. The wail dissolved into a hiccup; Letty’s drenched eyes lost their tragic look and filled with anger. She raised a trembling hand to her cheek and shot a furious glance at her sister.
    “Indeed, I’m sorry to hurt you,” Camilla said, not feeling or sounding in the least contrite, “only you were working yourself into such a state and alarming poor Fanny so.”
    Poor Fanny, now that the din and confusion had ceased, took charge. She dismissed the twins, bidding them summon a maid to take them to their room. Turning to an aghast Mr. Roper, who was now perfectly white and edging towards the door, she said he, too, had better go.
    “Certainly, ma’am. I am most dreadfully sorry. I had no idea—I had heard that Tom was—that there was a previous attachment in the case—I never dreamed that Miss Darcy was the one! And her sisters so very amused, and never mentioning a word of it; I never saw such heartless behaviour, I assure you.”
    “And pray have the goodness not to mention this scene to your friends,” said Fanny. “I dare say you like to carry a lively tale, only since there is a lady in the case it would be better for you to hold your tongue.”
    Apologising and protesting, he was almost pushed out of the room, promising that he would call to ask how the young lady did, and swearing that not a word of what had occurred would pass his lips.
    “Not that it will make the slightest difference,” observed Fanny after Dawson had escorted an exhausted Letty from the room with directions as to smelling salts, tisanes and a brick to her feet. “One way or another, the whole of London will know all about it by this evening, only by then Letty will be said to have died of grief or her brother will have threatened someone or other to a duel, and no doubt your father will be known to be returning post-haste from Constantinople, horsewhip in hand.”
    Camilla knew that what Fanny said was all too true. “At least it will be a while before the news reaches my parents, they being so far away. Should I write to tell them what has happened?”
    Fanny was relieved. She had much rather not be the one to send the news to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. “At once, if you will. It will be best if they learn the unvarnished truth before some strange, distorted tale is carried to Turkey to alarm and worry them.”
    “Mr. Fitzwilliam will no doubt advise how I may most quickly send a letter.”
    “I’m sure he will, and you will know just what to say; I do not wish to rouse your father’s ire.”
    Mr. Roper’s revelation was so extraordinary; it would be difficult to explain the situation to her parents. “Can it be possible that a young man has not the wits to know who he is and yet the sense and self-possession to marry? And not some violent fling with a landlord’s daughter or a wench of the town, but a lady of quality and standing. It is all very remarkable.”
    “Dawson is sending for Dr. Molloy, the physician, and after he has seen Letty and prescribed some soothing draught, we may ask him his opinion of such behaviour. For myself, I am not surprised to find that a man’s head may be all to pieces without his other parts being in the least affected—it is always the way with men. And so this Count de Broise’s daughter is a pretty