“I have not had that pleasure.”
“Still? It is a good thing your friendship is so steady. Had you less conviction in his esteem, you might be forgiven for thinking he is avoiding you.”
“Or I him.”
Elizabeth could not help but laugh; her teasing was rarely parried so efficiently. “True, though that would lessen the honour of your promise to pass on my message very sadly.”
“I do not see that it should,” he replied with a smile. “My promise was not bound by any parameters of time. I might avoid him for another decade and still keep my word when our paths do eventually cross.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue but decided against it upon noticing that Miss Darcy was looking between them with undisguised alarm. “And you would be very generous to do so, sir. But I ought to be going. I have kept my uncle’s coachman standing about for too long in this freezing weather.”
Mr Darcy looked rather disappointed, which she attributed to the dissatisfaction he must feel at not having the last word in their argument. She wished them both farewell and reiterated her pleasure in making Miss Darcy’s acquaintance, then returned to her uncle’s carriage.
She realised as she climbed in quite how chilled she had become. Her toes were like icicles and the collar and cuffs of her pelisse crisp with cold. And it had all been for nothing, for she had not encountered her mother—only the most disagreeable man she had ever known. Although, she had to admit, he had been significantly less disagreeable on this occasion. Perhaps it was the presence of his sister that had softened his manners.
She twisted around to look at them out of the window, curious to see how they acted without her in their midst. They were leading their horses away, both still on foot and walking side by side, but they were not speaking to each other. Elizabeth could easily tell this, because Mr Darcy was looking back over his shoulder at her departing carriage. She returned to facing forwards, assured it meant nothing but not quite able to account for his expression of complacency—or her sense of satisfaction.
8
A HARD LESSON INDEED
The letter Elizabeth wrote to her father was as gentle a mix of honesty and assurance as her command of the English language would permit. She informed him there had been no disguise as to Mrs Bennet’s whereabouts or company; she was, indeed, lodged with Mrs Randall in Henrietta Street. She omitted to mention how infrequently she was to be found there. She assured him that his wife appeared to have sufficient funds—without reference to the new clothes or frequent trips about town that Mrs Randall was evidently subsidising. She reported that her mother was in good health and did not seem excessively put-upon—but did not disclose that, in her opinion, Mrs Randall did not appear to be in need of any sort of nursing.
In closing, she said it could not be long before Mrs Bennet returned to Longbourn. She did not add that it was beyond her understanding what was keeping her in London to begin with.
The note she sent to her mother was much more to the point.
Mama,
I called on you this morning, but you were out again. I had intended to warn you that my uncle was exceedinglyunhappy when you did not come to dinner. Indeed, we were all disappointed not to see you, and none more so than Jane. It would be a great comfort to her, and, I daresay, would do much to appease my aunt and uncle, were you to pay us a call. If Mrs Randall can spare you long enough.
Yours &c.,
Elizabeth
Mr Gardiner seemed to have recovered from his annoyance in the few days since. He was, Mrs Gardiner explained, very used to his sister’s ways, and was in any case too occupied with his work to waste energy on such a trifling matter as one cancelled arrangement. Elizabeth was pleased, although the more time that passed with no reply to her note, the angriershebecame with her mother. Vexation muted her relief when, two days later, Jane announced from her now-permanent seat by the window that Mrs Bennet was stepping down from a hired post-chaise on the street below.
“There, Lizzy!” she said, smiling brightly. “Are you not pleased we stayed at home now and did not go out with Aunt Gardiner?”
“Very! It is a shame she had to go. She will be sorry to miss Mama.”
“She may be home in time to see her. We have so much to tell each other, I doubt it will be a brief call.”
Alas, it very quickly became apparent that Mrs Bennet intended to continue her evasive streak, beginning the visit with the announcement that she could not stay long.
“Mrs Randall continues very ill indeed. I cannot even think of leaving her for longer than an hour or two, so I must keep an eye on the time, for it took me above half an hour to get here in that horrid little bounder—it smelt disgusting, you know. My head isaching from being jostled about—the driver had not a care for my comfort! It was quite distressing—quite, quite horrid.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Jane said. “But we appreciate you making the effort. It is lovely to see you.”
Mrs Bennet looked briefly chastened—but only briefly. “Another time, I should not come so far for so short a visit.”
Elizabeth had already swallowed a dozen angry remarks but could refrain no longer. “I trust you and Mrs Randall had an easier time of it when you travelled to Hyde Park at the start of the week. ’Tis about the same distance from her house, is it not?”
It earned her a sharp look. “’Tis about half the distance, but in any case, I did not go to Hyde Park. I accompanied Mrs Randall on a brief stroll around the nearby streets.” In a more conciliatory tone, she added, “Where Maggie got the idea that we had gone so far afield I do not know—but I think it very likely she misconstrued a conversation Mrs Randall and I had about Haye-Park.”
It was a feasible excuse; Mrs Bennet often talked about the possibility of the Gouldings quitting Haye-Park and one or other of her daughters taking up there with whomever they married to become Longbourn’s nearest neighbour. Elizabeth simply did not believe it. “If Mrs Randall was well enough to go walking that morning, I wonder that she was too ill for you to leave her side the night before to join us for dinner. Could Maggie not have sat with her for a few hours?”
“She could have, Lizzy, yes—but then, Miss Bingley could have sat with Jane last November and yet you insisted on walking to Netherfield to perform the service yourself.”
