Aloud I said, “We are out of time. Fènnù is coming.”
38
THELESSON
EMMA
Mr. Darcy’snotepaper was thick and rich as cream, with lines of ruler-straight script:
“Miss Woodhouse,
If your schedule permits, I shall meet with you at ten o’clock in the ivory alcove of the north garden. Any member of the staff will be pleased to offer direction. I have invited Miss Harriet Smith to attend with us.
Yours respectfully,
Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
The ivory alcove was almost hidden by dwarf holly and juniper. Sculpted angels half-concealed in greenery watched serenely from four compass points. In the center, a garden table and benches of carved ivory stone were swept freshly clean.
I took a seat, bundled, gloved, and scarved in white. Although the savage cold gripping England had broken, Pemberley was high in the Peaks, and the leaves sparkled with morning frost.
Harriet came, stomping the gravel, her arms folded tight against the chill, ormore likely against me. She thudded into the farthest seat and glared a hole through the table.
“Are you still vexed?” I said.
She burst out, “How could you say ‘Teaching is unsuitable for a lady’ in front of everyone!”
I had mentioned that, gently, at yesterday’s dinner. I straightened the seam on a gloved finger. “I did not wish you to embarrass yourself. It is proper to guard my sister’s prospects.”
I was determined to protect Harriet. After reflection, I was skeptical of Georgiana’s hint that Mr. Knightley had formed an attachment to me. But it was a timely warning. Even the most well-meaning lady could blunder.
Harriet locked her black eyes to me, and they were blazing. “You cannot resist meddling. I have my own prospects, and I wish to do good.” Bitingly, she added, “Mr.Knightleyadmired my plan.”
Hearing his name woke a flutter in my belly, but I disliked having him invoked against me. “What does a London musician know of prospects and doing good?”
“What do you know, hiding in your rooms at Hartfield?”
That was hurtful, so I took a turn glaring holes in the table. In the corner of my eye, I saw Harriet shift uneasily. Well, if she was preparing an apology, she should hurry. It was not warm.
However, neither of us spoke until Mr. Darcy arrived. That was short-lived relief as Mr. Knightley followed a pace behind. The flutter in my belly became a flop, and a flush drove the chill from my cheeks.
The gentlemen bowed their greetings, and Mr. Darcy began, “Thank you for meeting outside. I am besieged by requests from our guests and did not wish to be interrupted. Privacy seemed wise.”
“Why has Mr. Knightley joined us?” I said, sounding perfectly uncaring.
Mr. Darcy pursed his lips as if that were a deeply insightful question. He turned to Mr. Knightley, raised one eyebrow, and waited.
“I do not approve of Darcy meddling with your mind,” Mr. Knightley announced. Harriethmphedapprovingly, apparently in support of anti-meddlers even though Mr. Knightley was meddling right in front of her nose.
Mr. Darcy said to me, “As I have assured Knightley, I will do nothing to your mind. The methods I speak of are simple aids. They are neither mesmerism nor manipulation.”
That did not satisfy Mr. Knightley. “Miss Woodhouse is an independentwoman. She should not be reliant on your arcane projects. Nor should her care for Nessy.”
“That is very kind of you, Mr. Knightley,” I said. “Would an independent woman choose for herself?”
“I… yes, certainly.” Mr. Knightley drummed his fingers in an involved pattern, then blurted, “Just consider your options.”
I had no idea how to interpret that.
