“Perhaps she decided to delay her departure by a few days.”
“Perhaps. She has been so erratic of late I would not be at all surprised. I have spent most of my time in London thus far chasing after her, for she is rarely where I expect her to be.”
Their continually happening upon each other made sense at last: Elizabeth had been looking for her mother, and he had been searching for Bingley—both of whom were obviously frequenting the same places. Together. Darcy gritted his teeth in annoyance.
Elizabeth apparently mistook his irritation as meant for her and gave a little huff of unhappy laughter. “You will have to excuse me for admitting as much—you have caught me off guard. But really, you are the perfect audience for my complaints, for I do not believe anything I say could make you think less of my mother than you already do.”
“I shall not pretend to approve of behaviour that causes this much anguish. But perhaps we were both mistaken. It may not have been your mother—only someone who looked like her.”
Elizabeth regarded him with a small, grateful smile that was nevertheless entirely dubious. “You are kind to try and reassure me. I wonder whether you would also be kind enough to say nothing of this to my aunt and uncle. I would not worry them unnecessarily.”
Darcy was glad he sounded reasonable as he assured her that he would mention it to nobody, because privately, hewas absolutely crowing at the prospect of being in Elizabeth’s confidence. At that moment, with her standing before him in a gown that could bring grown men to their knees and with her beautiful dark eyes beseeching him, he would probably have agreed to anything she asked.
The flicker of confusion on her countenance recollected him to himself. “We ought to return if we do not wish to miss the start of the next performance.” He half turned and waited for her to fall into step beside him, preposterously gratified when she did so without hesitation this time.
“I rather wish we had missed the first—it was awful! We only came tonight because my mother’s friend Mrs Randall was in it.”
“The same Mrs Randall who abandoned you in the entrance of Grenier’s Hotel?”
“The very one.”
“I hope she is a better actress than she is a friend.”
They reached the lobby and were obliged to walk closer together to avoid being separated completely in the crush. Elizabeth did not seem to mind, continuing to smile as she replied, “I honestly could not say, because for the life of us, we could not make out which part she was playing. The costumes were all so outlandish and the voices all so strident.”
“I see your problem—she could have been any of them.”
Darcy felt rather ungentlemanly for saying so, but the reward of Elizabeth’s laughter went a long way towards assuaging his guilt.
“There you are, Lizzy!”
Darcy tore his gaze away from Elizabeth’s twinkling eyes to the gathered faces of their respective parties. Her relations were looking at her in confusion. Hague, Wallace, and Fitzwilliam were regardinghimwith undisguised amusement. The latter raised an eyebrow in question. Darcy looked away, though the silent challenge did prompt him, belatedly, to acknowledgethe imprudence of chasing Elizabeth into a darkened passage without a chaperon. This would do nothing to quash the blasted rumours.
“Who did you think you saw?” Mrs Gardiner asked her niece.
Elizabeth hesitated.
“Mrs Randall,” Darcy supplied. He disliked lying as a rule, but then, anything that made her look at him as she did then, all gratitude and conspiratorial smiles, was tolerable to his mind.
“I thought she might be able to confirm which part was hers,” Elizabeth added. “But if it was her, I lost her in the passage.”
“We had better get to your box, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam announced. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet, Mr Gardiner, Mrs Gardiner.” He turned to Elizabeth and said with irritating emphasis, “Miss Elizabeth.”
Darcy joined him in wishing them good evening, not missing how Jane Bennet was scarcely able to meet his eye. It made him reflect, as he walked with the others up the stairs, that Elizabeth had ceased asking him about Bingley. Perhaps his warning had been heeded after all. He could not be sorry for it, even if it had earnt him her sister’s enmity.
“Well, that was about as delicate as a bull in a ballroom,” Fitzwilliam said beside him.
Darcy pressed his lips together in annoyance. “I could hardly refuse to acknowledge her after you forced the introduction.”
“True, but neither did you have to whisk her off for a private audience in front of half theton.”
“It was unfortunate timing.” His cousin only laughed, and Darcy said in a harsh whisper, “Pray, do not encourage these rumours if you hear them abroad. Miss Elizabeth is as delightful a creature as I ever met, but her family is repugnant.”
“They seemed decent enough to me. And it was I who was left to talk to them while you ran off to make love to Miss Elizabeth in a shadowy corner!”
“A talent for making pleasant conversation with strangers does not change the fact that he owns a warehouse.”
“Oh, untwist your bollocks, man. It will blow over.”
