“Did my mother send you to speak to me by any chance?” Seeing that her quip had not been received as lightly as it had been meant, Elizabeth added quickly, “I recognise what Mr Hartham was offering me, madam.”Do you?she wondered. “And I am not ungrateful that he thought me a worthy partner—or that you evidently approved of the match. But, much though I care for him, I do not love him.”
Lady Preston’s face twisted as though Elizabeth had said something offensive.
“And Idolove somebody else,” she added. “Very dearly.”
“You are engaged to another man?”
“Well, no.” When Lady Preston continued to glare at her querulously, she stammered, “I…we…he did propose. But I said no. Because at the time I thought…”
“He was poor?”
“No!” Elizabeth said with a huff of laughter. “No, I…misunderstood him.”
“You mean you disliked him. He must have been truly objectionable if he was rich and you still disliked him.”
The violence with which Elizabeth’s heart baulked at allowing any such accusation made her wonder: Had she ever truly disliked Darcy? Or was it merely that he pricked at every nerve in her body, making her feel constantly raw and exposed in his presence? “I thought there were, how can I put this…defects in his character. But I have since realised he is perfect the way he is.”
“I doubt that very much, but if that is what you believe, why have you still not accepted him? Has he changed his mind?”
“No,” Elizabeth said with no little exasperation. “But thanks to a certain gentleman’s presumptuous announcement, he thinks I am engaged to your nephew!”
Lady Preston’s brows drew together in consternation, but she did not have the opportunity to respond before the door opened and the housekeeper entered. She had scarcely begun announcing another caller when Mr Hartham barged past her into the room.
“Aunt, what on earth do you think you are about, hounding Miss Bennet in this manner? This is not to be borne!”
Her ladyship gave him a prim look that made Elizabeth want to laugh despite her frustration.
“I was merely ensuring that she had all the particulars. She could hardly be expected to make a sensible decision without them. And I was right to do so, for you had not even informed her what your income will be.”
Mr Hartham muttered something that sounded very uncharitable under his breath and came to kneel before Elizabeth, his countenance all concern. “Miss Bennet, I cannot apologise enough. This is the most outrageous imposition.”
She raised an eyebrow. “More outrageous than your proposal?”
He paled and glanced nervously at his aunt.
“Get off the floor, Nephew,” Lady Preston snapped impatiently. “I do not require you to apologise for me. If I was sorry, I would say so myself. I am, however, satisfied that Miss Bennet is acting out of neither ignorance nor recklessness. She knows her mind, and all is settled.”
“Not quite all,” Elizabeth said wistfully.
Mr Hartham stood up but stayed close by, looking worriedly between her and his aunt. “No?”
“It seems,” Lady Preston said, altogether too gleefully, “that the man with whom Miss Bennet is in love is under the impression that she is engaged to you.”
“Well, she was, for a bit,” he said with a sheepish grin that fell away when his aunt sighed and shook her head. He looked at Elizabeth in confusion. “Unless I misunderstood…?”
“You did,” her ladyship said. Her grin was much wider than her nephew’s. “Should you likemeto apologise foryou?”
“He has already apologised,” Elizabeth said, feeling bad. She had not intended to cause her friend any bother. “There is no need to say it again.”
“You are generous indeed,” Mr Hartham told her sincerely. “If you will not allow me to grovel, will you at least allow me to take you to Miss Cowley’s for some tea and one of her famous biscuits?” He leant down and added in a loud stage whisper, “We do not have to take my aunt. She does not like biscuits.”
“Or Miss Cowley!” Lady Preston added proudly.
Elizabeth smiled fondly at them both. “That would be very nice, thank you.”
Miss Cowley’s confectionery shop was busy, but they managed to find a table. Mr Hartham ordered a large selection of biscuits, far more than they could eat, insisting that Elizabeth could have but one bite of each if she chose, but that the extravagance was proportionate to his remorse. Elizabeth gave up telling him it was not necessary. A hundred bites of a hundred different biscuits would not help resolve matters, but the treats were delicious, and as pleasant a distraction from her worry as anything else she had tried.
They stayed for an hour before she announced that if she drank any more tea, she would dissolve, and they gave up their table and left the shop. The sun was high and bright outside, and Elizabeth had to shield her eyes to see the person who greeted them on the street outside.
