To Darcy’s surprise, Bingley did not take offense. Instead, his expression grew uncharacteristically serious.
“I understand your skepticism, Darcy, but I gave Mr. Bennet my word. Miss Elizabeth requires protection from certain parties who may not have her best interests at heart.”
“We can hardly allow her to be stranded in Derbyshire without proper lodging,” Caroline added, her tone suggesting she had rehearsed this sentiment.
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why not simply return her to Hertfordshire? Surely her father would prefer her safe at homerather than gallivanting about Derbyshire under dubious chaperonage.”
Caroline’s eyebrows arched delicately. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet has been through enough scandalous behavior already. Returning to Hertfordshire would only compound her suffering. The entire neighborhood knows she fled to avoid marriage to Mr. Collins. Her reputation hangs by a thread.”
“Precisely!” Bingley brightened. “Whereas, should Elizabeth be willing, she could return as an engaged woman—to me! All scandal averted, reputation intact, and no harm done.”
Darcy stared at his friend, a peculiar hollowness forming in his chest. “You would offer marriage to a woman who has, by your own admission, placed herself in a compromising situation with George Wickham?”
Darcy looked from one Bingley sibling to the other, a growing sense of manipulation settling over him. Why would Caroline, who had shown nothing but disdain for the Bennet family in Hertfordshire, suddenly advocate for Elizabeth’s presence at Pemberley?
And Bingley—since when had his amiable, easily influenced friend developed such strategic thinking? His sudden interest in Elizabeth, his convenient arrival just as Darcy was learning of her suspicious activities, his immediate suggestion that she be brought to Pemberley—it all seemed too calculated for Bingley’s usual spontaneous nature.
Unless…
Unless Bingley knew something about Elizabeth Bennet that Darcy did not. Or, he suspected a connection that could be more advantageous than Caroline’s marriage to Darcy. That could only mean they suspected Elizabeth was a Darcy.
Or at least Bennet and Wickham intend to make a move on Pemberley, setting Elizabeth up as the pretender. If that were the case, Darcy would keep Elizabeth to himself, ensuring she would never have the opportunity for mischief.
“Having Miss Bennet as a guest would indeed be preferable toher remaining at Rose Cottage,” Darcy said slowly. “I could more easily observe—that is, ensure her comfort during her stay in Derbyshire.”
“Splendid!” Bingley beamed. “And with All Hallows’ Eve approaching, we can plan appropriate entertainments. Caroline is quite adept at organizing such gatherings, are you not, Caroline?”
“I should be delighted to arrange a small party,” Caroline confirmed. “Nothing too elaborate, of course. Just enough to keep our spirits high during this rather… dull season.”
“Then it is settled,” Bingley declared. “We shall send an invitation to Miss Bennet immediately. I’m certain she will be most appreciative of Pemberley’s superior accommodations.”
His father’s warning echoed in his mind. He would never trust a Bennet, but he would keep this particular Bennet very, very close indeed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE TRAPPED HEIRESS
Elizabeth smoothedher hands over her best dress for the third time in as many minutes, a nervous habit that would have amused her under different circumstances. The blue muslin was presentable but hardly fashionable, and the small tear in the sleeve where she had caught it on a bramble remained visible despite Martha’s careful mending. Such deficiencies in her appearance had never troubled her at Longbourn, where comfort and practicality outweighed London fashions, but the prospect of taking tea at Pemberley induced an unfamiliar anxiety about her attire.
“You look lovely, child,” Martha said, appearing behind her in the glass. “Though I cannot fathom why Mr. Darcy would suddenly extend an invitation to tea. After all his years avoiding social obligations, he has never invited me to Pemberley.”
Elizabeth’s stomach tightened with the familiar mixture of anticipation and anxiety that had plagued her since receiving the invitation. “Perhaps he is merely being courteous to a visitor. He did rescue me from the road, after all.”
Martha sniffed, clearly unconvinced. “Men like Darcy are never ‘merely courteous’ without purpose. Mark my words, there is something amiss in this sudden hospitality.”
Elizabeth supposed Martha was right. A gentleman’s basic decency did not erase the arrogance she had witnessed at the Meryton assembly, regardless of how his eyes had softened when he spoke of his late uncle and aunt.
“He is likely curious about my research,” Elizabeth said. “I am well aware of the danger, and I should like to solve the murders so we can proceed with my claim. My birthday is in less than a fortnight.”
“Will be a sennight soon,” Mrs. Wickham said. “My George gets leave before All Hallows’ Eve. I’m eager to conclude this matter for you by then.”
“As am I,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “I should write my father about the locket.”
“It will be the proof I require.” Martha adjusted Elizabeth’s spencer with maternal satisfaction. “You look quite the young lady. Mr. Darcy will surely be impressed by your refinement.”
“I am not seeking to impress Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied more sharply than intended. “I am seeking information about my aunt Rose, nothing more.”
“Of course, dear. Though there’s no harm in making a favorable impression while conducting your research. A gentleman’s good opinion often opens doors that formal requests cannot. My George has the good opinion of many, unlike Mr. Darcy, who is not quite as considerate. Although I suppose a man who usurped an estate like Pemberley believes himself to be above common courtesies.”
