Darcy clenched his teeth and said nothing. A discussion ofbothof the most objectionable women of his acquaintance would rapidly leach his enjoyment of the outing.
“And I need to find someone soon,” Elizabeth pressed. “For Mrs Fairlight is not happy.”
“Why not?”
“I do not believe the work suits her. Pemberley is a much larger house than she is used to, and I get the impression the extra responsibility does not sit well with her. And she is worried about her relations in London. Unless we wish to find ourselves short of two housekeepers, we shall have to make haste and find a replacement.”
“I have every faith you will find one.”
“The trouble is, Mrs Reynolds is proving to be exceptionally hard to replace. The more I discover about her work here, the more insufficient all the other applicants seem.”
Darcy concentrated on driving, staring hard at the ground ahead.
“When I spoke to her in Hertfordshire, Mrs Annesley told me that your sister’s contributions to the running of the house have been minimal until very recently.”
“She is only sixteen.”
“Of course. I do not mean it as a slight. But I understand, too—from Mrs Fairlight, and Mrs Ferguson, and generally everybody I speak to—that Georgiana, and you, and your father before you, have all benefited from having somebody to perform those tasks that would ordinarily have fallen to the mistress of the house. What I am trying to say is, that, since your mother’s death, Mrs Reynolds has fairly run the household by herself.”
“Perhaps, but Pemberleyhasa mistress now, therefore the need for another ‘Mrs Reynolds’ has been eliminated. You may find someone with different talents.”
“I appreciate your faith in me more than you can possibly know, but I have not been the mistress ofanyhouse before, let alone one this size. It will take time for me to learn all that I need to know, and I need a competent woman to manage it with me.” After a brief pause, which Darcy could not deny worked to good effect, she added, “I think my aunt Wallis has a good point. Lady Catherine seems an obvious person to ask for help. Unless Lady Matlock could be of assistance?”
“Dear Lord, no! Lady Matlock is a kind woman, but she is not somebody to whom I would direct anyone for counsel. I would not speak ill of her but…you will see what I mean.” They were travelling to Lord and Lady Matlock’s home the following week to introduce Elizabeth and collect Georgiana, whom his cousins planned to return there after their sojourn in London. He had no idea what to expect from the visit, but he doubted Branxcombe Court could be any less enjoyable than Pemberley at present.
“I presume she has a housekeeper, though,” Elizabeth said. “She must have found her from somewhere.”
Darcy sighed with chagrin and admitted, “I believe Lady Catherine chose for her.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to say ‘I told you so’ with only a smirk.
“That does not mean I am in any way reconciled to the abuse she directed at you,” he insisted.
“I would not expect you to be. But, unless you are explicitly forbidding it, I should like to write to her.”
Darcy almost wished he could be cross, but it was impossible when Elizabeth was so clearly right. “Very well. Only do not hold your breath. I doubt she will condescend to help us.”
Elizabeth broke into a smile. “Nonsense. Lady Catherine loves to be of use. And I fully anticipate that she will take advantage of the opportunity to call attention to all my deficiencies, by which method I shall be able to return the favour. Everybody will be happy, except maybe you, but I can make up for that by other means.”
She kissed him on the cheek and changed the subject, and Darcy supposed that if he must be so thoroughly worked on, it might as well be by a woman who made him nigh on giddy with happiness.
They arrived home to find they had received an invitation to dine with Connelly and his cousin that Thursday. It pleased Darcy that Elizabeth not only recalled them but was also clearly delighted by the invitation.
“Miss Reid and I got on famously at your picnic,” she said as they walked towards the saloon. “I did think at the time that she would make a delightful neighbour, but I scarcely dared hope it would ever come true.”
“I spent the whole of that day wondering how I would ever convince you to come and live here. Had I known Miss Reid was the key, I should have introduced you both a lot sooner.”
The way she gently bumped into him to dismiss his nonsense whilst letting him know she enjoyed it with an indulgent smile was enchanting.
“It is fortunate they have not dropped the acquaintance altogether,” he added. “I have been ignoring their invitations to dine at Delamont since you left in the summer. I could not face going without you.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply but sucked in her breath and stepped backwards instead when a mouse scurried across her foot. She did not scream, as her uncle had at the river rat, though she did yelp in surprise when one of the hall boys dashed after it, obliging her to jump from his path to avoid being hit by the broom he was wielding with intent. Then, of course, she dissolved into peals of laughter.
“For crying out loud, look where you are going!” Darcy shouted after him. “Elizabeth, I am sorry.”
“You really must cease apologising. I am used to chaos. Longbourn is always like this. Aunt Wallis calls it Bedlam.”
“Your aunt Wallis seems an eminently sensible woman.”
