Page 48

“The work is very good,” Miss Bingley said.

The others looked at her.

She shifted slightly against her cushions. “If you are referring to the new chair in my room, the seams are very neat. And it does not creak.”

Mrs. Gardiner brightened. “It is that chair. I am glad it has proved comfortable.”

It seemed that Miss Bingley had not intended to offer praise and was uncertain what to do now that she had. “It is adequate.”

Darcy returned the paper. “I believe the charge is fair.”

“Traitor,” Mr. Gardiner said, but there was no heat in it.

“You asked for an impartial judgement.”

“Yes, but I expected your impartiality would favour me.”

Mrs. Gardiner folded the account and placed it on the table. “You see why I do not consult him.”

Mr. Gardiner smiled at her. “You see why I always consult her.”

There was no performance in the exchange, no effort to impress their guests. Mr. Gardiner’s humour was dry, his judgement sound, and they did not mistake disagreement for disrespect. It was an ease Darcy had seldom encountered in drawing rooms far grander than this one.

Bingley, he thought suddenly, could do a great deal worse.

The next thought came before he could compose himself, and Darcy swept it away at once. Bingley was able to please himself, but Darcy had Pemberley to consider and a sister who would one day need to be presented. And there was the Darcy name which his father had entrusted him to protect.

The rest he could not dismiss so easily. Few people’s opinions mattered to Darcy—a few members of his family, a few friends, and that was all. A handful at most. But Miss Elizabeth’s opinion was one of them.

Miss Bingley leaned forward a bit to speak so that only he could hear her. “One does hear a great deal about the price of things in this house.”

It was an invitation to speak as they had at Netherfield. Darcy was ashamed when he realised Miss Bingley had every reason to expect his acceptance.

He could not look back on how poorly he had spoken of the Bennets, but particularly of Miss Elizabeth, without reproaching himself for self-delusion. He had been so concerned about his inappropriate attraction that he had said many unkind things to convince everyone around him that he did not find her attractive at all.

Tea arrived before he could decide what to do with that realisation.

Mrs. Gardiner poured, and Mr. Gardiner accepted a cup only to surrender it when his wife informed him it belonged to Miss Bingley.

“I see my standing in this household.”

“You have had nearly twelve years to become accustomed to it.”

Miss Elizabeth’s needle rested against the cloth in her hands. “Mr. Darcy.”

He turned from the running conversation of the Gardiners to attend her.

“I understand that my family formed part of your objection to Mr. Bingley’s attachment to Jane.”

Her voice was not accusing, though it was wary, and no one else seemed to hear. The Gardiners were occupied; Bingley and Miss Bennet continued their low conversation; Miss Bingley drank her tea.

Darcy sensed he could not deflect or moderate his response, for Miss Elizabeth would accept neither. He hesitated, but then simply said, “It did.”

He could see that there was more she wished to ask, and so he indicated that she was welcome to do so.

“Some members of my family gave you reason to object,” she said. “I have no wish to dispute that.”

It was a gracious admission, and Darcy was grateful for it. “Then what do you wish to ask? I will answer if I can.”