by Leenie Brown
She smoothed her skirt and looked up to see Darcy staring at her.
“Am I not supposed to sit here?” She made to move.
“No. Stay as you are. You are so charmingly arranged.” He shook his head. “I am quite overcome with how charming you look there.”
Could cheeks burst into flames? If they could, Elizabeth was certain hers were very close to igniting from the pleasure in the tone of his voice and the intensity of the look in his eyes. It was perhaps best if she did not come to his study in the future. It felt far too dangerous a place to be.
“You are going shopping?”
Mr. Darcy moved around his desk and took his place behind it which made Elizabeth feel only slightly better as now she was separated from him by a substantial piece of furniture, yet he looked so… She could not describe it beyond the thought that the position fit him. He filled the chair with such authority and confidence that it was nearly palpable. It was no wonder Mr. Bingley gave such weight to any of Mr. Darcy’s advice. How did one not listen to this man?
“I am,” she replied when she had found her voice.
He seemed at a loss for how to continue the conversation, so she added, “I am not a lover of shopping as much as my mother or Lydia, but I must say I am eager to view the world in this part of London.”
“Have you not shopped in town before?”
She smiled at his surprise. It was understandable. She had visited London many times to visit her aunt and uncle, and Mr. Darcy was well-aware of that fact. “I have, but we have never ventured to Bond Street.”
“Never?” His surprise had not receded.
“Never,” she assured him. “My uncle has many connections, but I am not certain if they extend to Bond Street. But whether they do or not, we have always frequented shops nearer to his home. Travel time is always a consideration for my aunt. She does have young ones at home, and though she employs a nursemaid, she does not like to be completely absent from their lives.”
He seemed to relax into his chair at her words. She knew he liked both her aunt and uncle Gardiner greatly.
“I can understand such a sentiment. My mother insisted on not being parted from me for an overlong period of time when I was young.”
He wore a soft smile as he spoke.
“Georgiana does not remember, but our mother was the same with her until she became too ill to leave her room.” He sighed.
“Did you visit her then?” Elizabeth could not begin to imagine the sorrow that having a gravely ill parent would bring to a child no matter how young or old he was.
He nodded. “We did.”
“That must have given her great joy,” Elizabeth said softly.
He nodded once again but did not speak. How she would like to ask him more about his mother, but she dared not, for she did not know how best to approach such a thing. Her mother refused to speak of her father or mother and had scolded anytime Elizabeth had made a curious inquiry. So, to press the topic felt wrong even if it was not.
Darcy’s eyes focused back on her. “I should like to tell you about her sometime.”
“I would like that. Very much.”
Lydia and Kitty scurried past the open door.
“It looks as if it is nearly time for you to depart.”
Elizabeth sighed. As much as she longed to see the people and the shops on Bond Street, she also wished to remain here with him. Her heart and mind seemed a jumble of opposing feelings lately as it tried to decide where it belonged and how it fit in that place.
He rose from his seat and coming around his desk once again, extended his hand to her. “I shall see you off.” His lips tipped up on one side. “I realize you must go fetch your things, but I will wait for you and see you to the carriage. I almost wish I was going, so that I could walk about with you on my arm.” He wrapped her arm around his. “Maybe one day we will stroll down Bond Street together, and we can even visit one of the auction houses to select a few things for the house.”
He was doing it again – speaking as if they were partners in life, as if this were already her home, and as if he valued her opinion and input. And she was wearing that silly grin that accompanied such things. However, this time instead of saying nothing. She smiled up at him and said, “I do hope so.”
He stopped short of exiting the room and turned hopeful, yet uncertain, eyes toward her.
She shrugged. “There might be a thing or two that the house could use.” Her heart beat wildly at such a proclamation of her affections.
A smile, large, bright, and filled with pleasure, spread slowly across his face. “Do you mean it?”
“I try not to tell falsehoods, Mr. Darcy.” She arched a brow impertinently and attempted to ignore the heat which flooded her cheeks. “I should very much like to go shopping with you.”
“Just shopping?” His eyes sparkled with merriment.
She shrugged one shoulder. “That is all you have asked me to do, is it not?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, a tan and black blur raced into the room and between them.
“Dash!” Georgiana called as she hurried in behind him.
Elizabeth heard Darcy sigh as he turned toward the pup, who was standing on one of the chairs before the hearth. “Always Richard’s chair,” he muttered. Then, he looked at her. “Shall we discuss more than shopping later?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she replied as her heart skittered and skipped, “I think we should.”
Chapter 17
Inside the cobbler’s shop, Elizabeth stood near where Georgiana sat trying on the lovely burgundy silk slippers which had been made for her.
“What do you think?” Georgiana asked, holding out her foot and tipping it this way and that for everyone to admire.
“I could dance for hours in those!” Lydia declared.
“They are beautiful,” Elizabeth said.
“Are they comfortable?” Mrs. Annesley asked. “Is the fit good?”
“Oh, yes,” inserted Mrs. Bennet. “Pretty shoes are only wonderful if they do not cause sores.”
“Stand and give them a try,” the shopkeeper encouraged as he stood back and hooked his thumbs on his apron. “My slippers are of the finest quality, as you know. I am certain they will not cause any discomfort.” He stood in front of a counter that was piled with leather, fabric, and forms. Behind the counter was a workbench with several partially finished boots and shoes on it.
As Georgiana stood, Lydia took her hands and led her in a few patterns of the dance they had practiced in the ballroom with Mr. Hughes. “Did they make you feel like you could complete that dance over and over?” Lydia asked when she finally released Georgiana’s hands. “You performed the figures very well.”
Elizabeth shook her head. Lydia had so much confidence. There never seemed to be a situation in which she found herself that caused her to pause and watch warily. No, Lydia threw herself most happily into any fun scheme that presented itself. It was an admirable quality in some ways, for it meant that she was not held back from experiencing new and delightful things by fear. However, it also meant that sometimes she found herself in less than desirable places because she had not first carefully considered where a plan might end. Thankfully, as of yet, none of those scrapes had caused anything more than a few moments of unease for her and her sisters.
“They are absolutely perfect!” Georgiana declared. “I only wish I could keep them on my feet now.”
“Oh, you mustn’t,” chided Lydia. “The streets would see them destroyed before we got to the carriage.”
Georgiana giggled. “You could carry me.”
“What is the use of a pair of shoes if one cannot walk when wearing them?” muttered Mary.
“She can walk,” Kitty shot a displeased look at her sister, “just not on the streets. Slippers are not for out of doors. Everybody knows that.” Kitty drew out the word everybody and rolled her eyes as she said it.
“Girls,” Mrs. Bennet said sternly.
&
nbsp; Elizabeth shared a questioning look with Jane. Their mother rarely scolded in public. In fact, had they been in a shop in Meryton, she might have taken up Kitty’s position in reprimand of Mary.
Thankfully, none of Elizabeth’s sisters continued the argument, and Miss Darcy was allowed to remove her new slippers and put on her boots while the shopkeeper wrapped up the precious new footwear, which was then handed to the footman who accompanied them.
Elizabeth linked arms with Jane as they made their way among and around the people on the street to another shop not far away. She was glad that she had Jane to guide her, so that she could pay attention to the people they passed as well as to the shop fronts rather than attending carefully to whether they were still following Miss Darcy.
Walking this street on the arm of Mr. Darcy would indeed be delightful. She made a mental note of where particular stores of interest were, so she could mention them to him when next they spoke. It was not that she wished to purchase anything inside of them, it was just that the glimpse through an open door or window was enough to arouse her curiosity.
Her attention turned back to her party as she stepped into a store that sold cases and cases of accessories. Everything was displayed so well, and Elizabeth delighted in watching the various clerks assisting the customers.
“Fanny Gardiner!” Some woman’s high-pitched declaration pierced through the din of the store. “I would never have imagined that I would see you here, in this district of town, and yet, here you are.”
“Are you well?” Jane whispered to their mother who had frozen and paled. “Mama?”
“Yes, yes. I am well,” Mrs. Bennet assured her, but Elizabeth was not convinced she was speaking the truth.
Mrs. Bennet turned to greet the lady who had crossed from where she had been standing at a case to where the Bennet party was.
“It is Mrs. Bennet now.” Mrs. Bennet extended her hand to the lady. “I am sorry. I would greet you properly, but I do not know your name. I am sure it is no longer Miss Foster.”
Elizabeth watched the exchange of greeting curiously. Her mother’s chin was lifted, and her back was straight and stiff. As far as she could remember, Elizabeth had seen her mother assume such a posture only once before when Mrs. Long had said something disparaging about Jane three years ago.
“Indeed, it is not,” the woman said with a laugh. “It is Mrs. Salter now.”
“Mrs. Salter, it is a surprise to see you after all these years.” Mrs. Bennet motioned for Jane to step forward. “Allow me to introduce you to my daughters.”
She waited until the woman before her nodded and motioned for her to continue.
“This is my eldest, Jane. Next to her is Elizabeth, and then Mary. Kitty and Lydia are examining the gloves with our friend Miss Darcy.” She motioned to where Georgiana was pulling on a pair of calfskin gloves while Lydia praised them profusely.
“Five daughters?” Mrs. Salter asked.
“Yes.”
“Are these all your children then?” The woman continued to look amused by that fact for some reason.
“Yes.”
To Elizabeth, it seemed strange that her mother would not inquire as to Mrs. Salter’s children. In fact, it was very unusual for her mother to be so silent.
“I do hope your husband’s estate is not entailed – he does have an estate, does he not?”
“As you well know, my husband’s estate is Longbourn in Hertfordshire, and it is entailed, which you also know.”
The woman fiddled with her gloves. “Oh, I had forgotten. It has been what?” She looked at Jane. “Twenty-three years since we last saw each other.”
Mrs. Bennet said nothing in reply, but her cheeks turned from their pale colour to a rosy hue.
“I have two sons – an heir and a spare – as they say,” Mrs. Salter said with a laugh. “And one daughter. She is in her second season, but we do have some high hopes that there will be some very happy news for her soon.” She lifted her chin as she smiled down at first Mrs. Bennet and then Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary. “I mustn’t keep you from your friend – Miss Darcy, did you say it was?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. It was not for her to answer such a question, but this woman was so gratingly arrogant in that overly pleasant fashion of some catty women that for a moment she forgot herself.
“Well, I see you are still able to worm your way up from your position into one that is higher, but then you were always overreaching your bounds, were you not, Fanny?”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide both at the accusation and the cold turn of the woman’s tone.
“He preferred me,” Mrs. Bennet’s response was spoken softly. “He still does.”
Mrs. Salter smiled tightly. “Yes, well, be that as it may, although that got him what he wanted in the moment, it did not get him what he needed, now, did it?” Again, she looked at Jane.
“I assure you we are perfectly happy with the children the Lord saw fit to give us.”
The woman shrugged and sighed as she affected a look of nonchalance. “Such beautiful daughters,” she said. “Daughters,” she repeated. “It almost makes you wonder if it is not punishment for an indiscretion.”
Elizabeth caught her jaw before her mouth dropped open.
“And your daughters seem to have learned well from you,” the venomous viper of a woman continued. “I hear one of them caused quite a scandal at a ball recently, but I digress.” She waved her words away as if shooing away a servant. “It has been delightful to see you again after all these years. I shall have to tell our friends. They will be overcome with the surprise just as I was when I saw you enter this store.” She turned to leave, but Mrs. Bennet’s words stopped her.
“Do try to tell them the truth this time. Unlike you did all those years ago.”
“I am afraid I do not understand your meaning.”
Elizabeth could tell from the way Mrs. Salter’s lashes fluttered that she knew precisely of what Mrs. Bennet was speaking.
“Jane, dear,” said their mother. “When is your birthday?”
“May 24,” Jane replied.
“Just three days before my anniversary,” Mrs. Bennet added.
“That does not mean you did not…well, we will not speak of such thing in public. It is not how the well-bred do things.”
“No, they prefer to gossip behind closed doors,” Mary muttered. “One is so much better than the other,” she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Mrs. Salter gasped. “Such talk! You will do well to see any of your daughters well-matched with such behavior.”
“Are you not happy it is not your problem then?” Mrs. Bennet replied with a smirk. “They all take after their father in some way. Mary has her father’s love of the sardonic while Lizzy has his wit and teasing nature. Jane has his kind heart, Kitty has his willingness to please those she loves, and Lydia has his determined spirit. If you cannot admire those things in my daughters, then I do not see how you could have ever truly admired their father. But then, you did not. You just did not wish for him to admire me.” She turned to her daughters. “Come along. We should not keep our friend waiting.” She cast a glance at Mrs. Salter. “It would be rude.” Then with a flick of her head that would rival Lydia’s best performance, she led Jane, Mary, and Elizabeth away from Mrs. Salter.
Chapter 18
“But Mama, I really must get a red ribbon,” Lydia protested upon hearing Mrs. Bennet’s suggestion of returning to Darcy House without entering any other shops.
Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips, furrowed her brow, blew out a breath, and gave a small shrug. “One ribbon?” Her tone was filled with uncertainty.
It was not like their mother to be so brief when shopping, nor was it like her to question Lydia’s wants. On most occasions, Lydia had only to hint that she might like this or that, and it was secured if at all possible.
“We could wait for her in the carriage,” Elizabeth suggested softly to her mother. “She will be well with Jan
e and Mrs. Annesley to attend her.”
“But that woman – oh, it is too much,” Mrs. Bennet dug in her reticule and pulled out her salts. “I do not wish to see her again.”
“Nor do I,” Elizabeth agreed. “She is most horrid.” She placed an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “In fact,” she said in a whisper, “she is so horrid that she makes Miss Bingley and Mrs. Long look rather pleasant.”
Her words did what they were intended to do by causing Mrs. Bennet to giggle. The sound made Elizabeth’s heart ache a bit less. While it had pained her to hear that woman speak so cruelly to her mother, the worst of it was how it discomposed her mother. A giggle meant that her mother’s usual vigor and cheerfulness would soon be restored.
“She does, does she not?” Mrs. Bennet took one more whiff of her salts before tucking them back in her reticule.
“One more shop,” she said to Lydia with a smile. “I think I can endure one more shop.”
“I dare say Mrs. Salter will not approach you again,” Jane said as they began moving toward the street.
Mrs. Bennet sighed. “Perhaps not today, but…” She shook her head. “She is not the sort to be easily put off. She tormented me for months.”
“How do you know her?” Elizabeth held one of her mother’s arms while Jane had the other.
“I went to school. It was not a fancy school. It was a good one, but not the sort that Miss Darcy would have attended, I suppose. Your aunt Phillips and I were sent to polish a few skills which might help us rise above our beginnings. I managed it. My sister did not, but then I have always been more accomplished at the skills necessary to manage a home, and, well, not to be too very arrogant, I have always been the prettier of us two. You know your aunt well, and I am sure you can see the truth in what I am saying.”
Elizabeth had to admit that if she were to compare her aunt Phillips and her mother only on beauty, her mother was most decidedly the prettier sister, and, if she were to pause and consider the soirees held at her aunt’s home and compare them to what was had at Longbourn, she would also have to admit that her mother was indeed more skilled than her aunt Phillips at entertaining. However, until this moment, she had never stopped to ponder such things. Her mother had always just been her mother and her aunt, her aunt. She had not thought about them as sisters who might compete with each other or as young women learning skills and hoping to make a good match. Elizabeth wondered if when she had a daughter, she would also be viewed as just Mother and nothing else?
