“It is not quite as wonderful as you might think,” Fitzwilliam said. “Miss Bennet has gone to the British Institution this evening as the particular companion of a different gentleman. I understand it is generally expected that he will propose during the course of the evening—and that she will accept.”
Georgiana gasped. “Oh no!”
“This does not seem consistent with what Miss Bennet has said to me about her feelings,” Lady Tuppence said with a frown. “How have you come by this information?”
“Via my batman, who has struck up an acquaintance with Miss Catherine Bennet—Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s sister.”
“Is he reliable?”
Fitzwilliam shrugged. “He gives a fine field report. This seems no different.”
Her ladyship gave a short, impatient-sounding sigh. “Then this is my fault. I advised her to waste no more time pining. I confess, I did not expect her to run out and offer herself to the next man she met in the street, but I did impress upon her the dangers of waiting too long on a hopeless situation.”
Fitzwilliam groaned again. Having been informed that Miss Bennet was now aware of his interference and knowing that Mulhall would see her this evening, Fitzwilliam had sent his apologies, along with his best wishes for her imminent engagement. He had been trying to eliminate any ill will, but in this new context, he comprehended that it would look more like confirmation that she should settle for this other fellow.
“And all this time Darcy has been convinced it washeraffections that had faded!” He ran a hand over his face. “What a pair! And what a time to discover the mistake!”
“There might still be time to prevent it. We must tell him directly,” Georgiana said urgently.
“Tell whom what directly?”
They all whipped around at Rutherford’s voice. He and Darcy strolled into the room, his lordship going to the sideboard to begin pouring drinks and Darcy coming to stand next to the couches. The awkward pause of three people unwilling to admit what they had been discussing stretched between them. Their reluctance was understandable; nobody would wish to receive such news in such a setting—least of all Darcy, the most private man Fitzwilliam had ever known—but there was no way of making it more palatable. If there was any hope of the situation being salvaged, then the matter must be explained, and quickly.
He opened his mouth to ask Rutherford if there was somewhere private he might speak to his cousin, when Georgiana took it upon herself to summarise the matter for everyone.
“Brother, Miss Bennet is still in love with you, but unless you can stop her, she is going to accept an offer from somebody else this very evening because she thinksyoudo not loveher.”
Darcy remained very still for what felt like a very long time—long enough that Fitzwilliam genuinely began to worry that he was suffering an apoplexy—before eventually saying, “What?”
The bubble of silence popped as Fitzwilliam, Lady Tuppence, and Georgiana all spoke over each other in their attempt to explain the tangle of misunderstandings that had just been uncovered. Darcy bore the indignity of having his private business aired in front of two relative strangers and his younger sister with a stillness that was decidedly unnerving. He looked alternately stricken, appalled, livid, and frankly plain ill as he listened, but he said not a word and scarcely moved a muscle. Not while Lady Catherine’s lies were laid bare, not while he learnt about the months-long misapprehension between himand Miss Bennet, not while Lady Tuppence relayed all that had been said to her on the subject or while Fitzwilliam repeated Mulhall’s report. Not even when all the explaining was done and everybody fell back into silence, watching him in anticipation of what he would do.
“Did I hear correctly—that this fellow’s name is Knowles?” Rutherford said into the quiet.
Fitzwilliam confirmed that it was.
“Is that the Knowles of Knowles and Farnham, the brokers?”
“I do not know. Why?”
“Because if it is, then he reallyisa cad. One of the foremost objectors to my work in government, chiefly due to his staunch patronage of a large number of the establishments I am trying to have closed.” He lifted his drink to his lips, looking at Darcy over the rim. “You cannot possibly allow Miss Bennet to marryhim.”
That got Darcy moving. Though he said very few more words other than to make his excuses, he was gone within the minute. After privately wishing him luck and seeing him off, Fitzwilliam sat back down by the fire, this time on the other couch, next to Lady Tuppence.
“Georgiana is right. Darcy is usually far better behaved—this is quite out of character. I hope you will not hold it against him.”
“Not at all,” Rutherford replied. “It sounds as though he has had a jolly disagreeable time of it. I only hope he manages to speak to Miss Bennet before it is too late.”
Lady Tuppence gave a little grunt of disdain. “Ihope he manages to speak to her without accidentally defiling her reputation, or breaking her heart, or just” —she gestured at the door— “leavinghalfway through. Upon my word, I have never known anyone so prone to continually give offence wherever he goes.”
Fitzwilliam raised his glass to her. “Fortunately, what Darcy lacks in manners, he more than makes up for in his relations.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Elizabeth did not realise she was nodding off until someone cleared their throat from the parlour door. She sat up straighter in her chair, grabbing for her book as it slid off her lap. To her surprise, it was the cook who had woken her. “Mrs Thorne! Is anything the matter?”
The older lady lowered herself into an arthritic curtsey. “Pardon me, Miss Bennet, I was hoping you might know where Annie’s got to?”
“I am afraid not, why—has she gone missing?”
