Chapter Three #2
“Is perfectly suited for quiet conversation,” the matron finished. “Away from this dreadful heat. A gentleman of Mr Darcy’s consequence deserves proper refreshment and civilised discourse, not this chaos.”
“I am quite comfortable here, I assure you,” Mr Darcy replied in a measured tone.
“Nonsense. We insist, do we not, Annabelle? It would be unconscionably rude to allow you to suffer this heat when we can offer better accommodation.”
They began subtly manoeuvring him towards the house in coordinated movements.
Elizabeth’s unease sharpened. How did these women know the layout of Castlewood so precisely?
They moved with the confidence of familiarity, knowing which paths led were, which routes would take them away from public observation.
Were they friends of her aunt’s? But Aunt Ahearn surely would have noted the arrival of the three ladies.
Unless they had not been invited at all.
The realisation dawned on her. These women were not guests. They had inserted themselves into the gathering with deliberate purpose, and that purpose centred on Mr Darcy.
He resisted without appearing to do so—a step sideways here, a pause to acknowledge another guest there—yet the women compensated, closing gaps, steering him towards their goal.
She ought to let him manage his own difficulties.
He was a grown man, wealthy and experienced in navigating society’s snares.
Yet the memory of their earlier conversation rose unbidden.
His kindness when she had confessed her humiliation at Lucas Lodge, his indignation on her behalf and his insistence that she ought not diminish herself to satisfy narrow-minded fools.
But watching these women manoeuvre him with ease towards isolation, Elizabeth recognised the pattern. She had heard of such schemes before. Fortune hunters engineering compromising situations with only the young woman’s own relatives as convenient witnesses.
A man discovered alone with an unmarried lady. Reputations at stake. It was entrapment, plain and simple. Unless someone interfered.
He had stood as her ally when she needed one. Could she not do the same?
Elizabeth moved before conscious decision completed itself. She crossed the lawn with swift, deliberate steps, inserting herself directly into the group with a smile that felt brittle on her lips.
“Mr Darcy! There you are. I have been searching everywhere for you.”
All four persons turned towards her with varying degrees of surprise. The matron’s features hardened immediately.
Mr Darcy, to his credit, recovered admirably. “Miss Bennet. How may I be of assistance?”
Elizabeth’s mind raced, searching for a plausible excuse for her interruption. “You promised earlier to show me the view from the west lawn. You mentioned it particularly commands the sunset, and I should hate to miss it on account of being detained elsewhere.”
“I do not recall—”
“Oh, but you were quite insistent earlier, I am wounded you forgot,” Elizabeth widened her eyes at him, willing him to comprehend.
Understanding flickered in his gaze. “Ah. Yes, of course. The sunset. I had forgotten. How uncouth of me.”
“Forgive me,” the matron interjected, her tone glacial, “but we had not yet concluded our introduction. I am Mrs Thorne, and these are my granddaughters, Annabelle and Fiona. We were just escorting Mr Darcy to view the library collection—”
“How kind of you,” Elizabeth cut across smoothly. “I am certain Mr Darcy appreciates the offer, but I am afraid I must claim his attention. You see, we have a prior engagement.”
Mrs Thorne’s eyebrows rose. “A prior engagement? I was not aware you and Mr Darcy were previously acquainted.”
Elizabeth felt panic rising. Her simple intervention was failing, and she had no authority to press the matter further without appearing absurd or intrusive.
Mrs Thorne would override her objections, and Mr Darcy would be trapped by politeness into accompanying them to whatever compromising situation they had prepared.
“That is because it is rather private,” she heard herself say.
The words tumbled out before prudence could restrain them.
“In fact, perhaps I ought to clarify matters before any misunderstanding arises. I know how unusual it is to have an unattached gentleman visit a humble garden party such as this one.”
“Yes,” the younger woman said in a tone that made it clear she did not appreciate Elizabeth’s interference. “Every lady appears to have a scheme up her sleeve to spend time with him.”
They looked at one another and that strange sense of familiarity arose within Elizabeth again. She did know this girl, did she not? But how? From where?
“Indeed, Miss,” the grandmother started now. “So, if you will excuse us. Mr Darcy really did wish to see the library.”
“I doubt that.” Elizabeth took a step forward. “Because my betrothed is not in the habit of viewing libraries with strangers.”
Mr Darcy shifted beside her, eyes widening.
“Betrothed?” Mrs Thorne’s voice was strangled.
Elizabeth took a deep breath, conjuring up every bit of confidence she possessed. “Indeed. Mr Darcy and I are engaged to be married.”