Free The True Darcy Spirit by Elizabeth Aston Page B

Quail told Cassandra. “And my dear friend Mr. Wexford, and a guest of his, a Mr. Eyre, I believe, make up our party. Now, here, even as I speak, is Mrs. Lawson’s carriage arriving, and close on their heels Mr. Wexford and his friend.”
    When Cassandra had met the redheaded man on the Broad Walk, she had had no idea who he was, had supposed that she might meet him again while she was in Bath, although it seemed unlikely that hewould move in Mrs. Cathcart’s circle. Yet there was a kind of inevitability to this, their second meeting.
    Cassandra was introduced, first to Mrs. Lawson, then to Mr. Wexford, by Mrs. Quail, and finally the man with the red hair, who had been standing back, was ushered forward with something like pride by Mr. Wexford. Mr. Wexford was very tall, very thin, and had a bland but agreeable enough countenance. Had Cassandra been asked five minutes after they were introduced to describe him, she could not have done so.
    “This is Lieutenant Eyre, of the Royal Navy, who is presently staying with me, while waiting for a ship,” said Mr. Wexford.
    Mr. Eyre’s manners were excellent, even if his mouth twitched when Mrs. Cathcart, disapproval written all over her, began to question him about his antecedents. Mrs. Quail discovered more by drawing Mr. Wexford to one side and plying him with questions about his guest.
    “He seems a pleasant young man, is he cast ashore on half pay?” This was the fate of many naval officers, with the war over, and chances of promotion hard to come by.
    “He is, but he has many good friends, and hopes to have another ship soon.” Lowering his voice, Mr. Wexford went on, “He is the Earl of Littleton’s son, you know. A younger son, he has four older brothers, and it is an Irish title, of course, but coming of a good family, being a gentleman, as it were, still carries weight in the Royal Navy, I am glad to say.”
    “And I am glad to hear it,” cried Mrs. Quail. She was longing to ask if the young man had means of his own, or whether he had to live on the hundred or so pounds a year that the government paid a serving lieutenant when he was ashore.
    “He is not a rich man,” Mr. Wexford said, “but he is very good at his profession and will make his mark in the world, I am sure. He fought in some notable actions, he was on board the Shannon, when the Chesapeake was taken in the American war, were you not, James?”
    Mr. Eyre took his eyes from Cassandra and laughed. “I was a mid-shipmanyou know, the lowest of the low, but, yes, I was there, it was a notable engagement, and a very bloody one.”
    Miss Lawson rolled her eyes in his direction, it was clear that she had taken a liking to the red-haired young man. “Were you wounded?”
    “A mere scratch, nothing in comparison to some of the officers and men. But it was worth it,” he added, a fine fervour showing in his face.
    Mrs. Cathcart decided that she didn’t care for this young man with his Irish ancestry and hair and fine manners. She almost pushed Cassandra forward, towards Mr. Wexford. “My dear, this is an historic place, as Mr. Wexford can tell you. Was not there a great battle fought here, Mr. Wexford, during the English war?”
    “There was indeed,” said Mr. Wexford, his face brightening. “Is Miss Darcy interested in history?”
    “Indeed she is,” said Mrs. Cathcart, before Cassandra had a chance to answer. Cassandra had not the slightest interest in history, was, in fact, woefully ignorant upon the subject, although she had heard tell of the Civil War in the century before last, when the king fought Parliament and lost his head as a consequence.
    Mr. Wexford was not at all ignorant of the war. In fact he was appallingly well-informed, and a stream of information, from the death of Strafford to the defeat of Charles II at Worcester—“with his famous flight and hiding up an oak tree, you will know the story, Miss Darcy.” He also knew every detail of the battle that had been fought on that