“She’s not?” Annie said with wide-eyed concern.
Kitty nodded conspiratorially. “She has! I heard her whispering to my aunt about it. Apparently, she overheard Lord Rutherford arrange to meetanotherlady on the couch at the gallery today?—”
Annie gasped. “The cheating brute! Sergeant Mulhall was right about him, then?”
“So it would seem. And now Lizzy has it in her head that she must intervene to save the woman from being importuned.”
“Is that wise?” the officer interjected with excessive concern. “If my batman has said this chap is a rotten apple, he must have had just cause, in which case, I cannot think it good sense for your sister to seek out his company.”
“I agree, it is quite ridiculous,” Kitty replied. “As thoughshecould prevent a practised seducer from doing anything he likes! But you do not know my sister, sir. She is as obstinate as the day is long. Once she has an idea in her head, she will not be moved.”
She could have sworn the officer rolled his eyes as he muttered, “Sounds familiar,” but after that, he seemed to form a new resolution. “It has been delightful, ladies, but if you are sure you are unharmed, I must take my leave of you now.” He touched the brim of his hat and began walking away, calling over his shoulder, “I shall tell Mulhall to meet you tomorrow at the British Institution at noon, madam. Good day.”
“But I do not want to go there!” Kitty called after him. It fell on deaf ears; he was walking with long strides and evidently out of earshot already. She let out a growl of consternation and repeated to the maid, “I do not want to go to the stupid exhibition!”
“There are worse places to meet than a picture gallery,” Annie replied. “Thisplace, for one.”
Considering the corpses lurking beneath their feet, the stains on her gown, the old man still chasing his sheep in circles in the corner of the field, and the complete want of any romantic assignation, Kitty could not but agree. With jaded sighs and a shake of their heads, the two ladies set off in the direction of home.
CHAPTER TEN
The money-taker at the front desk raised his eyebrows at Elizabeth when she handed over her entrance fee. She tried her best to ignore him—she could not possibly be the only person to have visited so often—but his mockery only exacerbated her vexation to be at the exhibition for a third time in as many days.
She took her aunt’s arm and directed her towards the stairs. “I thank you sincerely for coming with me, but I have been thinking—it is probably best if I speak to Miss Darcy alone. It is a delicate subject—I should not like to embarrass her.”
“I have been wondering the same myself,” Mrs Gardiner replied. “It is a shame, for it would have been nice to talk to her, but I agree—it would be best if I remained discreet.”
They reached the landing and with a nod of thanks, Elizabeth set out through the crowds towards the couch at the end of the upper east room. She did not get far before her steps slowed. She had been focused on helping Miss Darcy evade disaster, but now that she was approaching the interview, the reality of speaking to Mr Darcy’s sister loomed large.
They had not been in company since her own precipitous departure from Derbyshire the previous summer, and there hadnot been enough time for any real affection to be established between them before that. They had met but twice—once when Mr Darcy brought his sister to call at the inn where she and the Gardiners were staying, and again when she and Mrs Gardiner returned the call.
At neither meeting had Elizabeth shown herself to particularly great advantage. On the first occasion, she had been too embarrassed, too nervous to give a good account of herself, and on the second, Miss Bingley had sabotaged any chance she might have had of making a good impression by commandeering the conversation to make insinuations about Wickham.
Then Lydia had eloped, and Elizabeth and the Gardiners had been summoned home, requiring them to renege on their acceptance of Miss Darcy’s invitation to dine at Pemberley. Since then, Elizabeth’s sister had married the man with whom Miss Darcy had once thought herself in love, and Mr Darcy’s affections had evaporated. It did not seem likely the young lady would be pleased to see her.
So preoccupied was she with these reflections that she did not notice her proximity to the couch until she was all but tripping over it. It was impossible, therefore, to avoid the notice of the lady seated upon it; too late to hurl herself behind the pillar to hide again; too late to do anything other than smile weakly as Lady Tuppence Swanbrook firmly patted the empty space next to her and waited with an expectant expression for Elizabeth to sit down. Her heart sank, but there was no getting out of it; to walk away would be to give a direct cut every bit as insolent as the one from which Lady Tuppence had been trying to save her.
She lowered herself onto the couch. “Good day.”
Lady Tuppence did not answer immediately. Both ladies sat facing forwards, looking into the room in uncomfortable silence. An older gentleman looked briefly in their direction—a fleetinglook which, ending as it did with a disappointed pout, most likely signified a search for somewhere to sit down, but which her ladyship took for something more nefarious.
“The staring has not improved much, has it?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Actually, I do not think he?—”
“If only you had kept your appointment with my cousin, their derision would have been done away with. Why did you not?”
Here it was, then. Elizabeth considered claiming to have misremembered the meeting time, but misdirection had got her into this tangle, and she did not think it could be relied upon to get her out of it. The truth was likely the safest response.
“I am sorry if either of you were offended. I ought to have been honest with you on Monday, but I did not wish to seem ungrateful when you were trying to help me. The truth is, I could not face it. I suffered a very great disappointment last year and the thought of meeting someone new, even just to walk about an exhibition with him, was…I could not bring myself to do it.”
Lady Tuppence regarded her appraisingly for a moment or two, then inclined her head. “I am sorry to hear that, though it makes it an even greater shame that you did not meet Rutherford. He might have restored your faith in men.”
Elizabeth did her best to conceal her surprise at this remark, though it gave her pause. If Lord Rutherfordwasa cad, he had evidently done an excellent job of concealing it from his cousin.
“I do not need my faith restored,” she replied. “I was not ill-used. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was a wonderful man. There were just too many obstacles in the end.”
“Pfft! Some men are too easily put off.”
