“He has heard it from my aunt, then. Both are wrong.”
“I see.” Elizabeth longed to ask him more but had the distinct impression that such an enquiry would not be well received. “Well,” she said instead, “if it happens that we should see each other in public again, we shall pretend we do not know each other.”
“I would not be so ungentlemanly.”
“Oh, I do not know. You refused to speak to me for half an hour straight in Mr Bingley’s library once. I am sure you could manage it again.”
Elizabeth saw immediately that he did not comprehend he was being teased, but before she could clarify, a far greater mortification arrived in the tea shop to overshadow the trifling misunderstanding.
16
MRS BENNET MAKES A SCENE
“What do you mean there are no tables? I must have somewhere to sit. Look—that lady is taking up a table of four chairs by herself. I should not mind sharing with her.”
“That lady is the Countess of Shefford, madam.”
“Well then. She very likely has a whole shire to sit in, I do not see why she should need those three empty chairs as well.”
Heat erupted in Elizabeth’s cheeks at the sound of her mother arguing with the server. She risked a glance at Mr Darcy; he was watching the same exhibition with a stony countenance.
“Go now, while nobody is looking,” Elizabeth whispered.
He hesitated, perhaps unsure how to reconcile abandoning her with his earlier assertion to gentlemanly behaviour, but then Mrs Bennet made another absurd remark, and Elizabeth could bear it no longer.
“Please. If you go, I shall be able to give her your seat, and then she might desist.”
He acceded with a gracious nod. “As you wish. Good day, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief that was cut short when, instead of leaving the shop, Mr Darcy walked towards thecounter. Desperate to prevent her mother noticing him, she stood up and hastened to her.
“Mama, I have a table. You can wait for your friend with me.”
Mrs Bennet’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed pink. “Lizzy! What are you doing here?”
“Drinking tea. Pray, join me.”
“Have you been lying in wait to ambush me?”
“Mama, please. People are looking.”
“Why should I care? Is that not what everybody in London wants—to be looked at?”
“Yes, but preferably with admiration, if it can be so arranged. Come.” She took her mother by the arm and all but dragged her in that direction. She dared not look to see whether Mr Darcy was still watching. With any luck, he had left the building.
“You are welcome to sit at my table, madam—and your daughter with you,” said a man as they passed him. He was about Mr Darcy’s age but much more flamboyantly dressed, much less handsome, and wearing a lascivious grin.
Mrs Bennet paused to look at him but quickly turned her nose up and kept walking. “Then again, there are some people at whom it would be much better if the rest of us never had to look.”
Elizabeth assumed she had been the only person meant to hear this. Alas, Mrs Bennet had never mastered the art of discretion, and her clearly audible remark sent a ripple of gasps and murmurings around the nearest tables. She dived into her seat and gestured urgently for her mother to sit down. One of the servers had replaced Mr Darcy’s cup with a fresh one; Elizabeth filled it and pushed it across the table, then said softly, “You said you were going home.”
Mrs Bennet let out an impatient sigh. “If you are going to run on at me, I might as well go and sit with that obnoxious little dandy.”
“I am hardly running on at you. But I am worried. You have been lying to us all, and I cannot fathom why. I beg you would tell me what is going on.”
“Nothing is ‘going on’. I merely changed my mind about returning home last Saturday.”
“But you did not inform anyone. Papa has had to tell my sisters that you have taken ill and gone to the coast to recuperate.”
