Page 47

“A little.”

“Would you like to withdraw?”

Miss Bingley hesitated, and Darcy expected her to agree. Instead, she adjusted one of the cushions herself. “No. I have spent quite enough time in that room. There is nothing in it but a chair and a window, and the view from the window is nothing but a sad little garden.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “Nothing grows in December, I am afraid. Please do not hesitate to ask should you require assistance.”

Miss Bingley frowned, but she replied, “Thank you.”

Before Darcy could think too long upon the fact that Miss Bingley had actually thanked Mrs. Gardiner for something, no matter how begrudgingly, the door opened and Mr. Gardiner entered with a few papers folded under his arm.

“Forgive me,” he said in a jovial tone. “I was promised tea if I returned before three.”

“You were promised tea whether you returned before three or not,” his wife said.

“Margaret insisted upon the time.”

“But your wife did not.”

Mr. Gardiner chuckled. “Then our daughter is very clever, for I have been deceived into punctuality.”

He greeted Bingley and Darcy, crossed to his wife, and handed her one of the papers. “This has come from the upholsterer.”

Mrs. Gardiner unfolded it while her husband addressed Miss Bingley. “You seem much improved today, Miss Bingley. I am pleased to see it.”

“I have been sitting upright for nearly an hour.”

She spoke with a quiet pride Darcy had not heard from her before.

Miss Elizabeth looked up, and Darcy smiled before he thought better of it. She watched him with a reserve that did not suit her.

His own smile faded.

“You are becoming a regular feature in my drawing room, sir,” Mr. Gardiner said to Bingley.

Bingley grinned. “I hope not an unwelcome one.”

Mr. Gardiner’s eyes rested briefly upon Miss Bennet, who coloured.

“I have heard no complaints,” he said with a dry sort of amusement, before saying in a warning tone, “But I am listening.”

He took the empty chair beside his wife and began examining the upholsterer’s account. “This charge for the chair is petty thievery.”

His wife smiled. “Your doubts are noted. This additional line is the cost of delivery.”

Bingley had meanwhile resumed his account of the delayed dinner. His head and Miss Bennet’s were bent close together.

Mr. Gardiner was unconvinced. “Mr. Darcy, you maintain a large establishment. You must have some experience of determining when fee becomes extortion.”

“I generally receive the accounts after my steward has made that determination.”

“Then you are a fortunate man,” Mrs. Gardiner said.

“Yes,” Darcy replied. “He knows the cost of everything to the shilling and refuses to be cheated. I have learned a good deal from him.”

Mr. Gardiner brightened. “A man after my own heart.” He held out the bill to Darcy. “Is this fee not exorbitant?”

Darcy took the paper.