“Now.”
At last, Georgiana ceased dashing about the room and looked at him. “But I have only just got home.”
“I know, but there is somebody there I should like to introduce you to.” He took a deep breath. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is staying at the Plough and Horseshoe.”
The room instantly lost all its appeal, and he became the sole focus of his sister’s attention. “I thought you said it was unlikely that I should ever meet her.”
“She is visiting the area with her relations. We happened across each other on my return yesterday.”
“Then of course! I should dearly love to make her acquaintance. Only…”
“What?”
She began twisting her fingertips together as she always did when she was nervous. “Are you sure she will welcome it? I do not know the exact nature of your parting, but I hope you will pardon me for saying that it seemed rather final. I should not like to obtrude on Miss Bennet’s notice if there were any chance that she would resent my doing so.”
Darcy knew not whether to grimace or triumph. That his sister had guessed the acrimonious end to his relationship with Elizabeth was unfortunate, yet he savoured the thrill of being able to reply that she had already agreed to the introduction. Georgiana’s sweet smile gave him even more cause to rejoice. He knew he had disappointed her when his letters from Rosings abruptly altered from promises of a dear new friend to the curtailment of any such hope.
“Then we absolutely must go,” she said gently. “I confess, I am relieved. You made her sound so kind and so sensible that I feared someone at Rosings must have offended her somehow to induce such a sudden change of heart. Cousin Fitzwilliam perhaps—he can be a little careless when he is in a sportive humour—or our aunt more likely.”
No. Neither of them.
Darcy absorbed the sting of her unintentional indictment in silence. It was nothing for which he had not already berated himself a thousand times, and sting it should, but Georgiana was wrong on one count. Elizabeth had not had a change of heart in Kent, sudden or otherwise. He had only mistaken—nay, neglected to even consider—what her feelings were. If she had undergone any change of heart, it was since then. For the Elizabeth he left in Kent would never have consented to this meeting.
A spike of alarm cut through his urgency. Had he mistaken her again? Had it been naught but civility that made her agree to the introduction? Evidently mortified to be caught at his house, perhaps she had felt obliged to consent and was now dreading his visit. He despised not knowing. He was used to being master of all he surveyed, the answer to every quandary if not in his grasp, then within his power to discover. Uncertainty and indecision were anathema to him. That was the problem with Elizabeth. He always felt utterly out of control around her, with no idea what she would make him feel or do or say. It terrified him, but by God he felt exhilarated by it—enlivened in a way he had never known possible until he met her.
“That was careless of me, Fitzwilliam, I apologise. I did not mean to give you any alarm. I am sure nobody insulted her.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Miss Bennet is more than capable of prevailing against anyone’s insults, I assure you. Now, do you wish to change first, or shall we leave directly?”
“Leave? Where are you going?”
Darcy cursed privately to see Bingley saunter into the room. He had no wish to share this introduction with anybody, least of all the man he had gone to such lengths to separate from Elizabeth’s sister. A more manifest reminder of the foundation for her antipathy he could not imagine.
“Lambton. To see Miss Bennet,” Georgiana answered before he could prevent her.
Bingley’s ears pricked like a bloodhound’s. “Miss Bennet is in Lambton?”
“MissElizabethBennet, yes,” Darcy said carefully. “She is travelling with her aunt and uncle. We bumped into each other yesterday and agreed that I would bring Georgiana to meet her.”
Bingley’s disappointment was plain to see, though, in his inimitable fashion, he soon found another way to be cheerful about it. “What a turn up! It has been far too long since I saw any of my friends from Hertfordshire, and she will have all the news we could hope for. I wish you had said sooner, Darcy, I should not have bothered changing. If you will wait for me to get my boots back on, I shall come with you.”
There was nothing for it; Darcy could not refuse. So be it, but he was determined to give his sister her moment first. “You will have to make your own way there, for I mean to take Georgiana in the curricle. Miss Bennet is staying at the Plough and Horseshoe.” He did not give Bingley time to object and ushered Georgiana out of the room, down the servants’ stair, and out through a side door to avoid detection by anyone else who might waylay them.
CHAPTERSEVEN
INAUSPICIOUS ENCOUNTERS
Mrs Reynolds paused to catch her breath, flinching at a new and sharp pain in her side. It passed as quickly as it had come on, which was just as well, for she had not the time for infirmity this day—or any other, for that matter. With a determined puff and a firm nod, she pushed away from the dresser and continued into the servants’ hall.
She was met with pandemonium, so many guests and all their people only adding to the usual bustle. Not every visitor had servants travelling with them. Some were sharing a manservant, lady’s maid, or both between their party; others were borrowing from Pemberley’s roll. In total there were seven extra bodies, and most of them appeared to have gathered in the servants’ hall to protest or enquire about something.
“Mrs Reynolds?” called poor Hannah from the centre of the throng. She excelled as head housemaid but was not of strong character. She was visibly floundering in the face of so many demands.
“How may I help you all?” Mrs Reynolds said evenly, inserting herself into the melee.
“The bell-pull in my mistress’s room is not working.”
“No, nor mine.”
