“Wait…” Darcy flinched, remembering that vacuous simpleton of a girl whose face had been the first thing he had seen upon awakening. “No, I would prefer to speak with Mrs Gardiner or Miss Elizabeth.”
“Mrs Gardiner is not expected to be down for some time. I am afraid you will have to wait, sir,” the manservant answered stiffly.
Darcy suppressed a sigh. “May I wait within for Miss Elizabeth’s return?”
The manservant swept his eyes up and down Darcy’s person. It was clear that he, too, wondered at the sudden change in attire and circumstances and found little to trust in the strange gentleman. “I am afraid that is not possible, sir.”
Darcy felt a scowl beginning to settle over his features and tried to school it away. “Very well. I shall return in an hour.” He turned and marched down the steps, Richard doggedly laughing at his heels.
“Why would you not speak to the other young lady? Could she not serve as a witness as well? Or do you, in fact, already nurse something of atendressefor–”
“She is even sillier than the other,” Darcy grumbled. “It may yet be that I shall find my name entangled in gossip with one or the other of those ladies, and I would rather that it not be with one of Georgiana’s age. I may be seen as ungentlemanly, but I am no bounder who preys on mere children.”
“I see,” Richard grinned. “And I suppose it does not hurt that Miss Elizabeth has a pleasing figure…”
“I am not thinking of her figure, Richard.”
“Oh come, admit it, man! One of Venus’ daughters, she was. There is no use in denying it, for I saw the way you looked at her. I began to wonder if you truly were such a monk as I had always thought you to be!”
“She does have remarkably fine eyes,” Darcy confessed, rather softly.
“And she is clever,” suggested Richard hopefully.
“I wish you would not extol the lady’s virtues to me at present. I merely desire her word and an introduction, nothing more and nothing less.”
“And where do you seek it? For with those long strides of yours, I can hardly keep up. You must have some direction in mind.”
“My carriage. It waits for us in the mews. I regret that I have found it necessary to change my garments once more, for I prefer not to be recognised as I walk the street. I cannot afford the diversions my face and appearance inevitably inspire. I brought the footman’s garments with me, as I had no other place to dispose of them, and unfortunately, I again have need of them.”
“You always said ‘disguise of every sort is my abhorrence,’” chuckled Richard. “And now you wish to disguise yourself?”
“Until this matter is settled, I merely wish to avoid certain conversations with those who might recognise me, and fortunately for me, that also means I must bid you a good morning. Once secured of the statements I require, I shall meet you again at your apartment—two hours at most.”
“Aunt is bound to have someone watching my building. The longer you stay away from home, the more desperate she will become.”
Darcy stopped, growling under his breath. “Of course. Is there not a public park on Elm?”
“Indeed, there is. Tell you what, old boy. I shall poke about innocently myself, so what do you say we meet a bit later—perhaps by two? That should permit me ample time to appear casual, andyou can go about harassing this Mr Gardiner. How do you intend to find him? Will you lie in wait at the lady’s door?”
“There is a neighbourhood fountain, not eight streets over to the west. It is worth searching there, for the situation is small, and it will require but a few moments. If she is not to be found there, I shall return to the house in an hour.”
“Such a bother! Would it not be simpler to marry Anne and be done with it?”
Darcy shot his cousin a nasty glare, earning only a laugh in return, and stepped into his carriage with renewed purpose. He changed only the cravat, coat, and hat, thinking those items sufficient to mark him as “Not Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley,” and emerged again.
“Your boots,” Richard pointed.
Darcy groaned. Indeed, his boots.
A few moments later, he was standing on the curb in too-short breeches and the scuffed, uncomfortable shoes borrowed from Richard’s batman, and the carriage had pulled away. At least Richard and his infernal laugher had gone with it. “Give the future Mrs Darcy my regards,” had been his adieu from the safety of the coach. Darcy bit down on his tongue and set out.
The fountain was indeed near and was surrounded by a small bit of nature. It was little more than a rotunda of trees, situated upon a small grassy knoll and suited with a bench. Upon that bench rested… to Darcy’s dismay, either his heart performed an acrobatic feat, or he suffered a moment of indigestion. He paused to assure himself that it wasnot, surely, the effect of the idyllic scene he had happened upon.
She was surrounded by the leafy golds of early autumn, her down-turned face softly reflecting the earthy warmth of the scenery. A shaft of light broke through the shedding branches and poured over her shoulder, bathing her figure in a heavenly sort of innocence. She was reading a book, and it must have been a highly engrossing one, for she did not look up at his approach.She continued lovingly turning the pages, her expressive eyes lighting whenever they found a passage of interest. Little smiles would pass over her features, but she seemed deaf and blind to her surroundings.
Darcy drew approximately ten paces from her and stopped, his hands clenched as he tried to decide what to do with himself. He had never before advanced toward a lady who did not hungrily watch his approach and long for an introduction. This one was utterly indifferent… which was just as well, for she was not of his sphere. He must take care to remember that!
She serenely turned another page, long dainty fingers seeming to relish their task. He could count the lines she read in the number of times her eyes flipped from left to right. Eighteen.
