“No, but it would be unfortunate if he forgot them all completely. I should be sorry to lose his friendship so soon.”
“If youwereunfortunate enough to lose it, it would not be because of anythingyouhad done.”
“I hope it would not be because of anything anyone else had done,” she replied in a flash.
Darcy regarded her steadily. Evidently, she suspected something was amiss. No surprises there, for she was as perceptive as anyone he knew. Still, he sincerely doubted hersuspicions tended towards her mother. After his warning to her sister, she probably meant to accuse him.
“It would not be,” he assured her.
She looked taken aback. “Then…will you promise to tell him Jane is in town, if you should see him?”
“Very well,” he said and meant it. He would tell Bingley that Miss Bennet was here—and warn him to stay the devil away from her.
Elizabeth thanked him, but with such a look of distrust in her eyes as made him anxious to be of use in some other, more convincing, way.
“And might I recommend Arneaux’s shoe repair shop on Stafford Street,” he said. “I understand it is a jealously guarded secret, but I am reliably informed that his wife stocks a vast array of silks and ribbons. She is a favourite of my sister’s.” To Miss Gardiner, he said, “She might have something more to your taste.”
The young girl’s eyes widened with pleasure, and she tugged on her cousin’s hand in supplication. Darcy had hoped that Elizabeth would be similarly delighted, but instead she looked intrigued and vaguely diverted—and it turned out he liked that better.
“This is valuable information indeed, Mr Darcy! Thank you. We shall go there directly.” She curtseyed and led her cousin away.
Darcy watched her go, reminded of the certain something in her manner of walking that had always captivated him. He quickly averted his gaze when someone nearby cleared their throat, making him aware that he had been caught admiring Elizabeth’s figure by her uncle’s man. He gave him a sharp nod and strode into his club, all interest in chasing after Bingley dissipated.
“You took your time, Darcy. We thought you were never coming in,” Kilmarnock called from his table in the front window. “Who was that fine young lady, keeping you tethered in the street?”
“Nobody.” Darcy felt a twinge of guilt, but he would prefer to avoid the derision that would inevitably follow were he to admit to any acquaintance with a family as inconsequential as the Bennets.
“Dashed attractive nobody,” Reeves replied, grinning lasciviously.
Darcy gave them no response and went to find a less conspicuous table. He found Tomlinson alone in the back corner of the lounge and asked whether he might join him.
“By all means,” his friend replied, adding with a shrewd look, “Not often you are seen giving condescension to pretty ladies.”
Tomlinson would not have said that had he seen him at Lord Bannock’s party two nights ago, where he danced with both of the man’s sisters and was seated next to his cousin for the duration of supper. The company had seemed perfectly gratifying at the time, but the whole evening was rendered vapid in comparison to the five minutes he had just spent being upbraided by Elizabeth.
“It will be the last time it happens,” he replied—and it was true, of Elizabeth at least, for it was very unlikely that he should ever see her again. He signalled for someone to bring him a drink, sank into an armchair, and tried to convince himself that was for the best.
6
A DISAPPOINTING DINNER
The candles in the centre of the table guttered as Elizabeth returned the meat platter to its place. “Could someone pass the potatoes please?”
Neither Jane nor Mr Gardiner appeared to have heard her. Both were staring—one angrily, the other forlornly—at the empty chair to Elizabeth’s left. The offending seat was sucking the noise from the dining parlour as effectively as her mother would have filled it with chatter—had she been sitting in it. Mrs Bennet was conspicuously absent, however, having sent her apologies less than quarter of an hour earlier.
“Mrs Randall must be very ill indeed,” Jane remarked quietly.
Elizabeth was careful to keep her countenance blank, though the violence of her doubt made it exceedingly difficult.
Mr Gardiner grunted. “I am afraid I care not how ill the woman is—your aunt went to a lot of trouble to make tonight’s dinner special. Your mother ought to have come.”
“I am sure she did not mean to offend,” Jane fretted.
“Very likely not, my dear. I should not be surprised if she gave it no thought whatsoever.”
“Come, come,” Mrs Gardiner said as she passed Elizabeth the potatoes. “There is nothing to be done about it now. Jane, will you not tell us about your day? Lizzy and I missed you on our visits, but the children tell me you had a jolly time of it here at home.”
Elizabeth repressed a sigh, disbelieving her sister’s excuses almost as much as she did her mother’s. Jane had refused all invitations extended to her that week, eschewing everything from shopping trips to morning calls. She avowed that she preferred her young cousins’ company, but Elizabeth was not fooled.
