“Why are you surprised?”
Miss Bennet moved her gaze from me. “You have me at a loss. If you continue in this fashion, I shall be forced to abandon the uncharitable assumptions I have made about you and own that I have been unjust.” She peeked in my direction, and the delicate arch of her brow took my focus.
Her playful air had a seductive effect, urging me to respond in kind. “You would do well to make a thorough study before you draw a final conclusion. My faults of manners have caused offence often enough in the past. With any luck, you may find sufficient cause for disapprobation to preserve your initial hypothesis.”
A soft, musical giggle escaped her. “Your concern for my sensibilities is appreciated, but you need not exert yourself to be rude on my account.”
I had inspired her mirth, and in the moment, nothing could have satisfied me more. “It is generous of you to grant me leave to be polite—at least for a while longer.” I touched my hat in a theatrical style. We continued in a comfortable silence for a short time. For my part, I marvelled at Miss Bennet’s influence upon me. I might be persuaded to do any number of uncharacteristic acts to please her.
Yet I did not lose track of reality, and Mrs. Hayward’s account of Miss Bennet’s circumstances weighed on me. By and by, a desire gained strength within me to seek Miss Bennet’s affirmation of her situation; my friend’s wife could have been misinformed with one or more of the facts.
I kept Miss Bennet in my frame of vision. “Mrs. Hayward has mentioned the tragic deaths of your parents and elder sister. Georgiana and I have suffered similar losses. Our mother died the summer I turned twelve, soon after my sister’s birth. Georgiana’s familiarity with her is based upon anecdotes from me and others in our family. We lost my father to apoplexy five years ago.”
Her full lips pressed together. “I am sorry to hear that both of your parents are gone. It must have been especially difficult for your sister to grow up without a mother.”
“Yes, I should say so, though your childhood must have been doubly onerous.”
“Not as much as you might imagine. My aunt Barton acted as a maternal figure to me for a couple of years until she died when I was five. I have fond memories of her, though the details have grown indistinct. At times, I am uncertain whether my remembrances are accurate or based upon stories told to me by Noah or my uncle.”
I fought to remainnonchalantat the mention of Noah Barton. What did he mean to her? Might she be in love with him? I shook my head as though to disperse him from my thoughts.
“All of us were bereft when we lost Aunt Barton.” Her dulcet voice had grown softer.
“She must have been a lovely and singular lady.”
“Yes, without a doubt.”
Had Mrs. Hayward exaggerated Mr. Barton’s disparate treatment of Miss Bennet? A remark Miss Barton made at dinner on Monday came to me, prompting my next question. “The other night, your cousin described a notable concert of chamber music she attended at Vauxhall Gardens on her most recent trip to London. What did you think of it?”
“Oh, I did not accompany them. In fact, I have never been to town.”
“I had the impression Mr. Barton went there often.”
“That is correct.” Miss Bennet pointed to an intersecting track ahead. “Here is the path.” She directed Lily into a right turn. The overgrown brush on either side of us made the route narrow, and I fell in behind her. She gave me a backwards glance. “My uncle does not take me to London because he is wary of my encountering my late mother’s brother, who resides there. My uncle Gardiner has an import business in Cheapside, and Uncle Barton has a low opinion of him.”
The walk widened, and I moved alongside Miss Bennet again. “Mr. Barton must believe your uncle Gardiner presents a danger to you.”
“Yes, he does.”
“That is a shame.” A frown overtook my face. She had confirmed the most damaging aspect of her situation. “Have you ever met Mr. Gardiner?”
“Yes, when I was four years old, he spent Christmastide with us. My aunt Barton still lived then, and she had invited him. After all these years, my recollection of him is fuzzy, but from my childish perception, he seemed to be interested in what I had to say. I recall him teasing me in a good-natured way and making me laugh. I still have a charming doll he gave me as a Christmas gift.”
Her chest rose and fell as she sighed. “Later, though, after my aunt’s death, Uncle Barton discovered his true proclivities. He is a cunning and ruthless man who convinced my guileless aunt Barton of his honourable nature. Uncle Barton has protected me from him ever since.”
“I see.”
Her lips pursed. “In any event, Mr. Gardiner has not attempted to communicate with me over the years. He has been content to forget he ever had a niece. It is a sad circumstance since he is the last living member of my mother’s family. The illness that killed my parents and elder sister also took my mother’s sister, Mrs. Phillips. My uncle Phillips moved to America soon after his wife’s death. Uncle Barton had a distant association with my parents and has only been able to describe them in general terms.”
“Where did you, your parents, and your sister live?”
“My father had an estate in Hertfordshire, Longbourn, but in accordance with the entail, a distant cousin of his inherited the property at the age of eight. He and his widowed mother took possession of the estate.”
Longbourn, why did the name sound familiar? “Where in Hertfordshire is the estate located?”
“The nearest town is Meryton.”
Of course, Longbourn bordered Bingley’s rented estate! “Coincidently, I visited the area just over a week ago. I stayed with a friend at Netherfield Park estate, which adjoins your family’s property.”
