“He is a single man of good fortune, and indeed good family. It is a fair prospect for Miss Elizabeth. In some ways, they are as brother and sister – if you could only hear their banter and tales from their childhood – but I am not so certain that is all it is. I was privy to his anxiety to wait upon the lady before her arrival, and his attention was most decidedly fixed upon her last evening.”
Darcy got quickly to his feet and walked over to his earlier place at the window, where he glared at a passing phaeton. Here was his first real mention of Elizabeth, something he had both feared and longed for, and yet it was coupled with this faceless man whose name had begun to haunt him – a man about whom he suddenly possessed a driving need to know more.
With an air of disinterest contrary to his aspirations, he said, “Remind me; how is it you are acquainted with him?”
“I attended Cambridge with his brother. You are well familiar with the wiles of the ton, Darcy. Fortune alone holds little sway with them. Fortunately, the aroma of new money did not affect James Harington’s nostrils as it did others’. Once he had befriended me, being of an old and wealthy family, others followed.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed as he stared out of the window. There was most definitely something familiar about the name James Harington – and he briefly cursed the absence of his cousin, for Fitzwilliam had also indicated some recall of the family name. He turned around and leaned against the sill.
“I feel I should know them – the family. From where do they hail?”
“Somerset; Sutton Coker – their estate – is but thirty miles from Bath. Indeed, they own a good deal of land in the West Country.”
“And the connection between them and the Bennets?”
Darcy could ill account for his questioning his friend in such a way. It was fortunate that Bingley remained distracted by his own affairs, for he could offer no defence for such singular curiosity.
“Harington – Nicholas Harington, that is– is Mrs Gardiner’s Godson. Mrs Gardiner, as I am given to understand, has been a very close friend of Mrs Harington from their earliest years, and she is also aunt to both Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy mulled for a moment upon this close connection. Much as he did not wish to admit it, it was a fair prospect for Elizabeth – but would she see it as such? Did Harington merely pay court to her, or did she return his interest? Had his cousin been correct, that Elizabeth’s affection for Wickham would not survive the revelation of his true character, and if so, did that leave her ripe for an approach from another, especially one with whom she was not only intimately acquainted but whom the family welcomed? Had she not vowed to his cousin that only deep affection would tempt her into matrimony, and did he not have proof himself that merely securing a situation was insufficient to tempt her? He knew Elizabeth had now turned down at least two offers of marriage, either of which, despite their disparity, would have secured her family’s future. Would she…
“Darcy?”
With a start, Darcy realised that Bingley had finished his tea and had risen to his feet.
“You are to depart?”
“I must be in Piccadilly directly, so I will leave now and seek you out on my return.”
Accompanying his friend along the hallway, Darcy struggled to put aside his interminable thoughts, but if he hoped for no further mention of Elizabeth, he was to be disappointed. Bingley received his hat and gloves from the footman who then opened the door for him, but before he stepped outside he turned to Darcy once more.
“I almost forgot! Miss Elizabeth asked after you last night. I did explain that I had asked you to accompany me, but she said that she understood your reservations in not calling in Gracechurch Street.”
Darcy winced, well aware of the underlying meaning such a turn of phrase could carry.
“Darcy?”
Conscious that Bingley eyed him with a somewhat puzzled countenance, he forced a smile. “Forgive me, my friend. I appreciate your passing on the message.”
Bingley gave a nod and turned to leave, but then he paused on the threshold and said over his shoulder, “I must say, Miss Elizabeth is looking remarkably well, and she is most certainly in good spirits.” Bingley shook his head. “She and Harington,” he laughed, “they are a most entertaining couple. Well – good day, Darcy. I will see you anon.”
And with that, he walked briskly down the steps and along the path to his waiting carriage, leaving Darcy prey to all manner of black thoughts as he proceeded down the hallway to his study alone.
Chapter Thirty Four
With the breakfast hour over, Elizabeth climbed the stairs to ready herself for the appointment with the dressmaker, much relieved to have a reason to escape from her aunt’s gentle interrogation as to why she had failed to mention Mr Darcy’s presence in Kent, when not so long ago her niece’s correspondence had been full of him.
But that was when I despised him, she mused as she reached the landing, and immediately came to a halt as the implication of such a thought struck her. Had it become so very natural in so short a time to instinctively put her dislike of the man into the past? And had she truly mentioned him so very much in her correspondence to her aunt, even when she professed to detest the man?
Refusing to dwell upon this unsettling reminder of her poor judgement, she pushed open the chamber door to find Jane seated at the dressing table attending to her hair, and she met her sister’s reflection in the mirror with a smile.
“Aunt Gardiner has gone to select a coat and bonnet for me from Serena’s room, and I heard her order the carriage be brought round as I came upstairs.”
Getting to her feet, Jane walked over to the closet from where she retrieved her Pelisse. “I had not anticipated being in company with Serena again so soon. It will be most pleasant for us all to be together, will it not?”
“It will indeed.” Elizabeth walked over to the chest of drawers and picked up her reticule, before turning to watch her sister as she gathered two pairs of gloves from the closet and pulled out their outdoor footwear. Accepting the latter, Elizabeth sank onto a chair and kicked off her slippers, but instead of making any attempt to step into her shoes, she frowned as she recalled Serena’s letter and looked up at Jane.
“How did she fare? Was she well?”
“Well enough in the circumstances. Why do you ask?”
“I received a letter from her when I was in Kent.”
“Yes, I knew that she wished to write to you, for she wrote for the direction.”
“Her words were somewhat mysterious. She wishes to consult with me about something that troubles her.” Sitting back in the chair, Elizabeth met Jane’s gaze. “I know that is nothing new, but there seemed to be some pressing urgency in the matter. And yet, she gave you no indication of any such thing?”
“No, there was no hint of any particular concern when in Town; though I think she feels her disability more now that she is of a certain age – but then, you are more her confidante than I, Lizzy.”
Jane sat on the bed to attend to her own footwear. “She appeared to have a most enjoyable stay here, and though we heard nothing from her over Easter, we then learned of her being in Derbyshire once our aunt received news of her father’s bout of ill health.”
Elizabeth nodded, conscious that there was little she could do until Serena arrived, and she bent to slip into her shoes. “No doubt all will become clear when she joins us.”
“If I think on it,” Jane said thoughtfully, “She did seem somewhat in two minds about paying the visit to Somerset, but Mrs Harington was most insistent and Serena is so attached to her that she could not deny her.”
“That may have had more to do with Nicholas being in residence.”
“What do you mean?”
Elizabeth bit her lip, then got quickly to her feet, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing in particular. You know how she and Nicholas can be.”
Jane stood up also and picked up her bonnet. “I shall go down, Lizzy, as I am
forwarder than you.”
“Yes do. I shall join you directly.”
As Jane closed the door behind her, Elizabeth walked over to the mirror where she studied her reflection for a moment, her thoughts with her friend. Serena and Nicholas had sparred continuously as they grew up; thus, discovering that her antagonism had turned into a stout affection had distressed Serena greatly. Turning her back on the mirror, Elizabeth sighed. She disliked keeping anything from Jane, but this was something she had been sworn to secrecy on. As for Nicholas, Serena took such prodigious good care to disguise her true feelings from the object of them that it was likely he would never know.
Further, Elizabeth did not know that anyone would ever supplant him; how anyone could. Serena lived a quiet and confined life, meeting few new people and thus having little to distract her. She would not partake fully of society, even when opportunities presented, for even the adapted Patten that Uncle Gardiner had acquired for her could not suffice in the drawing room or on the dance floor in the way it did on the street…
Elizabeth’s train of thought was interrupted by a light knock upon the door heralding the arrival of Mrs Gardiner, and with relief she pushed aside her concern for her friend and turned to see what her aunt had managed to find.
“Here we are. I feel this one will complement the colour of your gown best.” Mrs Gardiner walked over and handed a familiar Spencer to her niece, who took it and held it up, smiling.
“Dear Serena – how she loved this when it was first made up! I recall her reluctance to remove it even when indoors, so much did she admire the cut and the fabric!”
Mrs Gardiner helped her niece into the coat, smiling. “Well, I suppose the novelty must have worn off for it to be relegated to her London closet!”
“To be fair, Aunt, I think it more likely that it is rather too fine for country use. The red and cream narrow striping is very unusual, and the needlework very detailed. Did not Mrs Harington have it made up for her?”
“She did indeed. Alicia cannot do enough for the girl,” an expression of sadness filled Mrs Gardiner’s eyes for a moment. “I think she helps soothe the loss of her own little one, even now.” She fastened the final button. “There. You look very well, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth smiled at her aunt as that lady passed her a deep red satin bonnet, and fixing it quickly into place she tied the ribbons beneath her chin before holding out both her arms and laughing.
“Serena and I may share a similar frame, but I think we see the discrepancy of our height here! My arms would appear to be a little longer than hers!”
“Oh dear.” Mrs Gardiner stared at the gap between the end of the Spencer’s sleeves and Elizabeth’s gloves and then glanced about the room. “Where are those ribbons we acquired the other day?”
Hurrying over to one of the bedside tables, she picked up a tissue- wrapped package, from which she took several strands of ribbon.
“Which shade do you think? The red is not a good match, I fear…” she inspected them carefully before selecting two pieces of cream fabric. “Here, try this.”
Indicating to Elizabeth to hold out her arms, she neatly tied a piece of wide ribbon to each of her niece’s wrists, concealing the small expanse of flesh that had been left exposed.
“There!” Mrs Gardiner smiled as she patted her on the arm and turned towards the door. “Come, or we shall be late, and much as I know you dislike frippery and layers, you are at least sufficiently attired to face the eyes of Mayfair – indeed, you may even inspire a new fashion!”
With a laugh, Elizabeth held her arms out to inspect the effect of the ribbons, which was surprisingly complimentary if a little more dressy than was her custom.
“Be warned, Aunt. I may begin to giggle incessantly and talk of nothing but balls and red coats, and if I do, I charge you to please come to my aid and remove them!”
~o0o~
Darcy’s attempt to give Georgiana as brief an explanation as possible of Bingley’s acquaintance with Miss Bennet had been thwarted somewhat by his sister’s interest in the matter. When she did not attend him in his study, he had repaired to the music room thinking that perhaps she had become lost to time whilst enjoying her instrument, only to find that the pianoforte had long been discarded in favour of investigation. He found Georgiana in her sitting room, engrossed in a letter – a letter, it turned out, from himself, penned during his stay at Netherfield, as were the others that she had then produced from her pockets.
As he shepherded her up to her chamber to prepare for their outing, he endured her quietly voiced but persistent curiosity as best he could, agreeing that the ‘daughter of a local gentleman’ that he had initially made mention of was indeed the Miss Elizabeth Bennet that he had later described, and yes, she was the sister of the Miss Bennet of Bingley’s acquaintance. Further than this he refused to be drawn, merely agreeing with her that he had failed to inform her that Miss Elizabeth had several sisters, that Bingley seemed very interested in the eldest and that yes, Miss Bennet presently resided in Town, but no, he did not anticipate renewing his acquaintance with her, despite the fact that his friend had.
His sister seemed a little puzzled by this statement, but Darcy firmly ushered her, still bristling with curiosity, into her room and closed the door upon her with the warning that he would collect her in a half hour.
Thus it was that, some thirty minutes later and dressed for the outdoors, he accompanied Georgiana down the stairs towards a recently returned Bingley.
“Are you quite certain that you wish to accompany us, Bingley?”
“Absolutely. Miss Bennet is to attend to some shopping this morning, so there is little point in my making a call in Gracechurch Street. Overton is making it blatantly obvious that I hamper his unpacking, and as I have just passed an hour in the smokiest office imaginable whilst having some documents drawn up, a stroll in the fresh air is all I desire!”
Allowing Georgiana to precede them out of the door, Bingley turned to Darcy as they made their way down the short path and out into Mount Street. “Did you have a particular direction in mind?”
“Georgiana?” Darcy offered his arm to his sister. “Do you have a preference? Would you prefer St James Park to wandering the neighbourhood?”
“I would rather head for the Square, Brother. Should the rain start, then at least we can shelter in comfort.”
Bingley beamed at her. “You would not, by any chance, be an admirer of Gunters?”
“I am! I do not think I have tasted the equal of their iced pastries.”
“Indeed, no. Harington – an acquaintance of mine – brought some of the very same with him when we called upon Miss Bennet only yesterday morning, and very well received they were too.”
Struggling with an irrational wave of jealousy at the mention of Harington’s name, and conscious that Georgiana had cast a quick, enquiring glance up at him, Darcy sought frantically for a change of subject, but before his mind could oblige him, he felt her disengage her arm from his and step ahead to walk alongside his friend.
“Do you think that we might encounter Miss Bennet during her stay in Town, Mr Bingley?”
Suppressing a groan, Darcy quickened his pace in order to keep up with the two people in front of him, though he derived little comfort from overhearing their discourse.
“I should think it very likely! I am certain she would be most honoured to make your acquaintance.” Bingley exclaimed, and he threw a laughing glance over his shoulder towards Darcy. “Your brother has met her, and I am certain there could be no objection.”
“Yes, so I have just learned.”
Taking the arm offered to her by Bingley, Georgiana threw her brother a look of smugness, before returning her attention to her companion. “Now, Mr Bingley, tell me all about Miss Bennet and how you came to meet her.”
~o0o~
With their visit to the dressmaker concluded to everyone’s satisfaction, and the necessary accessories purchased to complete their attire for Monday’s ball
, Mrs Gardiner had despatched the servant to load the carriage with their packages, along with the instruction to await them in Berkeley Square.
A pleasant ten-minute stroll later and the ladies were entering Gunters fine establishment, well disposed to partake of the refreshments on offer. As soon as they arrived, they were assisted into seats near the bay window and immediately turned their attention to the tasselled menu card. Heads together over the table as they poured over the list of cakes, pastries and ices on offer, they were oblivious to the passers-by in Berkeley Square.
Having made her choice of dessert, Elizabeth sat back in her chair, leaving Jane and her aunt to continue debating the benefit of marzipan over icing. Removing her gloves quickly, she then released the ribbon beneath her chin, relieved to be freed of such garments, but as she lifted the bonnet from her head her eye was caught by the gentleman who had just entered the café.
“Nicholas is here!”
Elizabeth’s announcement caused her two companions to withdraw their noses from the menu card and look towards the new arrival, who made his way towards them between the tables and chairs.
“Good morning, Aunt. Jane.” Nicholas bowed, then turned his attention to where Elizabeth sat, and meeting her eye with a keen look, bowed once more. “Lizzy.”
Elizabeth studied Nicholas thoughtfully as he acquired a chair from a nearby table and settled himself by her side. He looked extremely pale, and she reached out a hand and touched his arm to draw his attention. “Are you well, Nicholas?”
“Quite well, I thank you.” She saw him flick a quick glance towards her aunt and sister, who had turned their attentions to the waiter, now patiently awaiting their order, before returning his gaze to her.
“I was a little surprised to see you here?”
Elizabeth smiled at his apparent confusion. “We had need of refreshment; shopping is a wearisome venture!”
He smiled faintly, his eye drawn to one of her hands where it now rested upon the table. He touched the edge of her sleeve briefly, where it met the wide piece of ribbon that had been tied around her wrist earlier, before lifting his eyes to hers, a brow raised in question.
A Fair Prospect Page 27
