“I am sure he will make some lucky woman very happy,” Elizabeth replied carefully, recognizing maternal matchmaking due to her familiarity with her mother’s tactics.
“Indeed, he will,” Martha agreed with satisfaction. “But come, we must not keep the horses waiting. Lambton awaits, and we have much to accomplish today.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DOCUMENTS AND DOUBTS
The rain had stopped,leaving Lambton’s cobbled streets glistening in the morning light. Elizabeth stepped down from the carriage, Martha following close behind, and found herself in the heart of the market town. The square bustled with activity—shopkeepers arranging displays, housewives bargaining over fresh produce, and children weaving through the crowd on their errands.
“Who is that with Mrs. Wickham?” Elizabeth heard one whisper to another. “Such a fine-looking young lady.”
Elizabeth smoothed her travel-worn dress, acutely conscious of its simplicity compared to the fashionable attire of several local ladies.
“This way, my dear,” Martha said, steering Elizabeth toward a row of shops. “We must make ourselves presentable before calling on Mr. Blythewood.”
“Martha Wickham!” called a plump woman emerging from the milliner’s shop. “What brings you to town so early? And who is your companion?”
Martha’s face arranged itself into a practiced smile. “Mrs. Jervis, how fortunate to encounter you. May I present Miss ElizabethBennet? She’s visiting from Hertfordshire to research her aunt’s history.”
Mrs. Jervis studied Elizabeth with undisguised interest. “Bennet, you say? Any relation to the Bennets of Dorset?”
“My family is from Hertfordshire,” Elizabeth replied. “Though I’m researching my father’s sister, Rose, who married into the Darcy family.”
Mrs. Jervis’s eyes widened. “Rose Bennet Darcy? From Rose Cottage? Goodness, what a connection.”
“Indeed,” Martha said. “Miss Bennet is writing a biographical account of her aunt’s life.”
“How fascinating!” Mrs. Jervis exclaimed, beckoning to her companions across the square. “Mrs. Duntze! Miss Entwhistle! Come meet Miss Bennet—she’s researching poor Mrs. Rose Darcy.”
Within moments, Elizabeth was surrounded by three eager matrons, each bursting with information and questions.
“Miss Entwhistle, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who is gathering material about her late aunt, Rose Bennet, who married into the Darcy family,” Martha said formally.
The tall, angular Miss Entwhistle peered at Elizabeth through her spectacles. “A terrible tragedy, that fire,” she observed, her eyes bright with the relish of someone who enjoyed discussing dramatic events. “Such a devoted couple, and with that beautiful baby daughter. The whole neighborhood was in mourning for weeks.”
“You remember them well?” Elizabeth asked, eager for any details about her parents.
“Oh yes, Miss Rose was quite memorable,” Miss Entwhistle declared, evidently pleased to be considered an authority. “She would stop to chat with anyone, regardless of their position. Most unusual for the gentry, but it made her beloved by all the common folk.”
“I remember her at the Harvest Festival,” Mrs. Duntze interjected, not to be outdone. “She insisted on dancing with the farmers as well as the gentlemen. Old Mr. Darcy wasscandalized at first, but even he couldn’t maintain his disapproval in the face of her genuine warmth.”
“And John Darcy worshipped the ground she walked on,” Mrs. Jervis added with a wistful sigh. “Never saw a man so besotted with his wife. He would look at her across a crowded room as if she were the only person present.”
“You must speak with Mrs. Reynolds at Pemberley,” Miss Entwhistle advised. “She’s been a housekeeper there for decades and knew your aunt well.”
“Actually,” Martha interjected smoothly, “Mr. Darcy has kindly invited Miss Bennet to take tea at Pemberley this afternoon for precisely that purpose.”
This revelation caused a small sensation among the ladies.
“Mr. Darcy himself?” Mrs. Jervis gasped. “How extraordinary! He rarely entertains, especially not in such an informal manner.”
“Family connections,” Martha explained with a slight smile. “Miss Bennet met Mr. Darcy in Hertfordshire through mutual acquaintances.”
Elizabeth felt the pressure of three pairs of eyes examining her with renewed interest. She maintained her composure, though inwardly she marveled at Martha’s skill in managing social situations to their advantage. The woman clearly knew how to deploy information strategically.
“We mustn’t keep you, then,” Miss Entwhistle said, her head bobbing in a birdlike manner. “Such preparations to make before visiting Pemberley. You must promise to tell us everything, Miss Bennet. We so rarely have fresh faces in our little circle.”
With polite farewells and promises of future conversations, Elizabeth and Martha extracted themselves from the group.
