“No, ma’am. For all intents and purposes, you are the mistress, and—”
Steward stopped speaking abruptly, looking horrified, as if her tongue had run away with her, and an embarrassed look passed over her face.
Elizabeth gently asked, “—And?”
“‘Tis not my place.”
“Nor is it mine to act as mistress; we are even. Pray tell me what you were about to reveal. As you say, I am mistress for perhaps another day or less until the Matlocks appear. It would help me to know what is said below stairs. If I am doing damage that Mr Darcy will have to repair, I would at least like to know what it is.”
“Damage?”Stewart squeaked in alarm.“How could you even think that? No, Miss Bennet. It is said that you took this role reluctantly but executed it with grace and intelligence. They hope that… well—”
“Go on, I shall not censure you.”
“Well, they hope for a permanent mistress. If not you, then someone very much like you.”
Elizabeth stared, her heart sinking, but it was nowhere near as distressing as it should have been. She had known her reputation might not survive this experience intact. There could be nothing worse than being seen as a grasping mercenary, intent on forcing a way into an estate. She might very well be beyond the moment when she would beobligedto accept Mr Darcy’s proposal just to remain respectable.
“What do the people of the area think of me? Am I likely to start rumours along those lines? Will my reputation survive this experience?”
Stewart looked shocked. “Of course it will! Everyone for a dozen miles has heard the story of a young lady who stepped in to help her particular friend, Miss Darcy. You are attributed only the highest of motives. Nobody believes you are scheming to become Mrs Darcy, but… well, we can hope and dream.”
Elizabeth sighed resignedly. “It is something of a muddle. I do not suppose there is any talking you out of an hour improving that dress. You seem as if you would agree with me on every particular, nod sympathetically, then make certain all my instructions precisely match your desires.”
They laughed, though both suspected there was more truth than jest in the statement.
“Well, let us get on with it. I would not want to embarrass this fine estate.”
To Elizabeth, there could be no finer pleasure in life than a hot bath after a dirty and dusty day. She revelled in the simple luxury of hair that was clean, and free of smoke and ash. She resolved to indulge in at least a quarter hour of simply soaking and was pleased when Stewart joined her in a chair in the corner, to work on her dress.
“What can you tell me about Mr Darcy?”
“Which one? I have known the present master since he was breeched, and his father before that.”
“Either one… both… well, we do not have all day, so tell me something interesting.”
“Both are the finest men I know,” Stewart said. “I assume you know that, since it must be perfectly obvious to anyone who knows them well. The current master is the best landlord, and the best master, that ever lived. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”
Weeks earlier, Elizabeth would have been astonished to hear such praise and vigorously denied it, but a long time spent reflecting on the man had left her in a more receptive mood. She had known him for six weeks in Hertfordshire, and another fortnight in Kent, mostly in social situations where all intercourse was constrained by propriety, and to be honest, her prejudice against the man for finding her not handsome enough to dance with. In Hertfordshire, they were also constantly dodging the cloying attentions of Miss Bingley, which added no pleasure to the interaction; and the less said about Lady Catherine, the better.
In reality, she did not know the man at all but was beginning to reevaluate their acquaintance. She was at least disposed to listen and learn. After all, she had two months of acquaintance,while Stewart had over twenty years and Miss Darcy a lifetime. Was this not what she had sought in Kympton and Matlock? Had she not repented her failure to question Lady Matlock more thoroughly?
Very cautiously, she said, “You present a very good picture of the gentleman, though I must confess, I have not seen that aspect of him.”
Stewart appeared shocked. “Perhaps you did not see him at his best. In society, he tends to shyness and reserve, which comes across as haughtiness. I believe the ladies of the ton have hunted him for years, and he does not react well. He is especially vulnerable when he meets marriageable ladies with, how shall I say it, ‘ambitious’ mothers.”
“Perhaps. So, what makes you think I am not just another huntress with a better strategy? I can assure you, I know ladies who would jump at the chance to do what I have done to force his hand.”
Stewart paused over her sewing. “He is very much like his father. You are right… youcouldprobably force his hand after this, but nobody in this house believes youwould, and to be honest, there are those who would consider that outcome ideal. This house needs a permanent mistress.”
Elizabeth gasped. Stewart laughed softly.
“Do not worry, Miss Bennet. Those are just dreams. Nobody but me would dare speak them aloud, and I would not to anybody but you.”
“You have known me all of an hour.”
“I have known Miss Darcy since she was born, and Mr Breton as long as Mr Darcy. They trust you, and that is good enough for me.”
“So, tell me about Mr Darcy.”
