Sedrick, who had an opinion about most things, had one about this, and he came to sit next to Mr Gardiner to tell him about it.
Garroway turned to speak discreetly to Darcy. “He is an eclectic addition to the party, but not without promise. I daresay we shall survive. Where did you find him?”
“I am acquainted with his niece.”
“Oh?” he replied, all intrigue, but Darcy gave him nothing more and after a brief pause, Garroway conceded. “Understood—none of my business. Have it your way. But I will say this.” He tipped his chin at Mr Gardiner. “He is a distinct improvement on your other uncle, the late, prostrate Sir Lewis. He was never awake long enough to form an opinion, let alone express it.”
Darcy’s remorse was complete. Beyond a few raised eyebrows and some pointed questions, none of his friends—friends whom he had been certain would ridicule and censure any suggestion of an alliance with a family of such low connexions—had any serious objection to Mr Gardiner’s presence among them. He was not unaware that his own liberality had likely influenced theirs, or that there were those in society who would be less forbearing. Still, it shamed him deeply to see that the pride he once thought under good regulation was not typical of the sphere he grew up in but rather a product of his own, unregulated vanity.
“How are your wife and niece passing their time this morning, Mr Gardiner?” Bingley enquired.
“They planned to return Miss Darcy’s call. They are probably at the house as we speak.”
Darcy spent the next few minutes staring at nothing and listening to no one until at length, the prospect of appearing ridiculous began to seem a lesser evil than forfeiting the opportunity of seeing Elizabeth, whereupon he muttered something about arranging refreshments and set out for the house at a pace.
James directed him to the saloon, where his sister had received Elizabeth and her aunt. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst had joined her, and though initially vexed that more of the ladies had not troubled themselves to be sociable, Darcy soon decided it would have been better if neither of them had come either. Mrs Hurst added nothing to the conversation, and Miss Bingley’s only notable contribution was a snide remark about Wickham’s company having left Hertfordshire.
It served her less well than he was sure she hoped it would. Elizabeth answered calmly and collectedly that the militia’s departure had caused neither her family nor the neighbourhood in general any distress beyond a scarcity of gentlemen with whom to dance at the next assembly. She looked at him as she said it, and her small, earnest smile turned Darcy’s insides over. She believed him, then. His account of Wickham’s true character, so indignantly, so angrily dashed off in a letter in the hours after her rejection—all that bitterness she had overlooked and chosen to take him at his word. The gratitude, the sheer relief this stirred in him eclipsed Miss Bingley’s paltry meanness and put a cheerful spring in his step as he escorted Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner to their carriage.
“It was very good of you to return my sister’s call, Miss Bennet. She will be delighted to have received a visit.”
“As were we by hers, and so soon after her own arrival.”
“She was eager to call. She has long been desirous of making your acquaintance.” He was not discouraged when Elizabeth looked away, for she had not turned her head so far that he could not see the little lift at the corner of her mouth. “Have you any plans for the rest of the day, Mrs Gardiner?”
“My husband intends to take us to see the Roman lead mine at Lower Kympton this afternoon.”
“If he ever decides he has caught enough of your fish,” Elizabeth interjected.
Mrs Gardiner laughed awkwardly and glanced expressively at her niece as though to admonish her for such forwardness. “And tomorrow morning, we thought we might walk along the river to Dedman Gorge. I would see whether it is as beautiful as I recall.”
“Be sure to cross to the west bank before you leave Lambton. You can no longer access the gorge from the other.” Darcy could also have told them where the otter holts were usually to be seen and the best resting places were to be found, but since he was already forming an idea to accompany them on their walk, he kept the information in reserve and only wished them a pleasant excursion. “I look forward to seeing you all at dinner tomorrow,” he said as he handed both ladies into the open carriage.
“Yes,” was all the reply Elizabeth gave as she took her seat and fixed him with a curious look. He withstood her attention with thundering heart, more than happy to be the object of her scrutiny.
The carriage lurched into motion, and for the second time in as many days, Darcy was overcome with a bewildering array of emotions as he watched Elizabeth depart. Yet of one thing, he was absolutely certain: he still wanted, with a passion that was almost alarming in its intensity, to make her his wife.
CHAPTERTEN
OVERHEARINGS MORE TO THE PURPOSE
“Ithink Miss Bennet might be more than the master’s friend, Edna.”
“What makes you say that?”
“’Cause he defended her when Miss Bingley tried to do her down. Said she were the handsomest woman of his acquaintance and then stormed out of the room, all in a lather.”
“I never heard of Mr Darcy storming anywh—”
“I’ve got to go!” William interrupted, and go he did.
Mrs Reynolds stood away from the door, straightened her skirts, plucked a jar from the shelf—any jar, for it served no purpose other than to give her the appearance of having been otherwise occupied—and left the storeroom. She did not reprimand Edna for gossiping, for which the obviously startled maid looked deeply relieved. She only returned to her sitting room in furious silence.
This was the second conversation she had overheard in the last hour that was not meant for her ears. The revelation that the master held Miss Bennet in high esteem would not have been welcome news even before that morning, for the young woman scarcely inspired admiration. With a reputation for being a quarrelsome coquette, she had come uninvited to the house, scorned every commendation given about the master, and made no secret of her acquaintance with the despicable George Wickham. She was not worthy of Mr Darcy’s notice, let alone his affections; that she had managed to engage his heart was cause for the greatest concern.
This news, however, was rendered infinitely more alarming by the previous snippet Mrs Reynolds had chanced to overhear. About half an hour earlier, as she made her way discreetly through the house along the unseen service corridors that framed her world, she witnessed James answer the front door to two ladies. Miss Bennet and her companion, Daffodil, had called on Miss Darcy, and while the footman went to inform that young lady of their arrival, a damning discussion had passed between the pair.
“I should not have come—this is cruel,” the younger had whispered to the older. “What if he thinks I am trying to throw myself in his path?”
