Chapter 24
WHERE MR DARCY GOES TO PARK STREET FOR SUPPER.
“Mr Darcy,” Mrs Lawrence said with a grin as she greeted him in Bingley’s drawing room. “Allow me to welcome you to Park Street.”
“Thank you, Mrs Lawrence. You look very well this evening. Tell me, are you merely visiting, or have you made good on your promise to move in directly?”
“You are a tease after all,” she told him delightedly.
“Indeed, I have come to stay. I could not abide another minute in my niece’s house.
At breakfast I mentioned you had become engaged to Miss Bennet and Caroline choked on her toasted roll for a full two minutes.
She is beside herself and emphatic that Miss Bennet has entrapped you.
One would have thought you had met with a grievous demise.
Not even on Drury Lane have I witnessed such theatrics!
It was far too much moaning and fussing to endure.
I ordered my trunks packed immediately, and here I am. ”
Darcy rubbed his brow. He could well imagine Miss Bingley’s reaction to his engagement and her abuse of Elizabeth.
With any luck they would not cross paths any time soon.
He settled into a chair opposite hers beside the fire.
“I am afraid Miss Bingley has never warmed to Miss Bennet. I would not call them friends.”
Mrs Lawrence snorted indelicately. “I should say not.”
Darcy disguised his laugh with a cough. He had never known anyone quite like Bingley’s aunt. “Are you alone, Mrs Lawrence, or is the rest of the household in hiding?”
Bingley’s aunt grinned. “You find me quite alone. My nephew took the ladies to Oxford Street this afternoon to shop for lace and they have yet to return. Would you care for a cup of tea?”
“I would enjoy a cup of tea, thank you.” He was disappointed to hear Elizabeth was not at home but reasoned she must return eventually. With any hope, sooner than later as the sun was beginning to set, and the streets would soon become icy, and, also, because he missed her.
Bingley’s aunt poured the tea. “Cream and sugar?”
“No thank you.”
“A man after my own heart. I care not for such sweetness in my tea, but I will confess to adding a bit of brandy. Just a splash. I find it a comfort on a cold day such as this one. Would you care for some brandy in your tea? You may have as much as you like. I will be as silent as the grave.”
Darcy could not suppress his smile. “Not at the moment, but perhaps I will have some after supper, if you would be so good as to join me.”
“I would like nothing better,” she insisted, “but I suspect Mrs Bingley might be scandalised if I remained with the men after supper. Your Miss Bennet, on the other hand, is a peach. She procured this bit for me while her sister met with the housekeeper and I daresay no one is the wiser. You should marry her as soon as may be, and I will pay you a visit the following week. Mrs Bingley is a classic beauty and a sweet girl, but Miss Bennet has spirit and a figure that is light and pleasing. I like her prodigiously.”
This time Darcy laughed.
Dinner was an intimate affair with three courses and, to Mrs Lawrence’s satisfaction, no separation of the sexes when the dishes were cleared away.
Before Darcy could offer his arm to Elizabeth, Bingley’s aunt claimed her.
She linked their arms together companionably and winked at Darcy, who was relegated to follow behind them as they made their way to the drawing room.
Shaking his head, he bypassed the tea things and proceeded to the sideboard, where he poured two glasses of brandy, then joined the ladies.
“Mrs Lawrence,” he said, offering her one of the glasses. “I believe you had your heart set on a glass of brandy.”
The elder lady’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “You remembered, Mr Darcy. That speaks well for your future as a married man. Miss Bennet is a lucky woman.”
He smiled in response and turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, would you care for a glass as well?”
“I would, thank you. Will you join us?”
Darcy surrendered the other glass to her. “Thank you, yes. If I may be so bold, Miss Bennet, I would like to speak with you later, when you can spare a moment.”
Mrs Lawrence, who had taken a sip of her brandy, waved them off.
“You need not concern yourself with me. I will be perfectly fine for fifteen minutes without my friend here. I will enjoy my brandy and the company of my new niece.” She gave Elizabeth a gentle nudge, encouraging her to rise, and called to Jane.
“My dear, do come here and sit with me. I am desperate to hear about your afternoon in Oxford Street. You, too, Charles.”
The Bingleys rose to attend Mrs Lawrence and Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm. There was a cosy sofa on the opposite side of the room, and they made their way over to it in companionable silence.
“Mrs Lawrence is a force to be reckoned with,” Elizabeth remarked as she sat down, cradling her glass in her hands. “I feel very fortunate that she likes me. I shudder to think what would happen if one incurred her displeasure!”
Darcy settled beside her. “I can only imagine. Mrs Lawrence is quite taken with you, but it is hardly surprising since I am quite taken with you myself.”
“As gallant as ever,” Elizabeth replied pleasantly. “Did you mean for us to pass the rest of the evening in this delightful manner, or is there some other purpose for your luring me away?” She took a sip of brandy.
“My aunt the Countess of Carlisle paid me a visit this morning. She expressed a desire to make your acquaintance.”
“You sound impenetrably grave, sir. Is there more to this visit, pray?”
“I am yet uncertain, but I do not wish to alarm you unnecessarily.”
Elizabeth laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. “I am afraid it is a bit late for that. Perhaps you ought to simply say your piece. Even if what you relate is upsetting, I would rather you be honest with me.”
Darcy leaned forward and propped his elbows upon his knees.
“Very well. I cannot determine whether she is in earnest or whether she has an agenda. Her ladyship said very little when I informed my uncle of our engagement, but she had much to say this morning. She is not an unfeeling woman, but she has decided beliefs and opinions that accompany them. It has long been her wish that I marry the daughter of a particular friend of hers who made her debut last Season. I made it clear to both my uncle and my aunt that would never happen. We have nothing in common and I have never felt an attraction to the young woman. I cannot even say that I like her. She is nothing like you.”
“It appears,” Elizabeth observed with the hint of an ironic smile, “that all your aunts entertain grand hopes of you either marrying their daughters or the daughters of their friends. I am not surprised. Not only are you exceedingly handsome, but you are also in possession of an abundance of admirable qualities. Surely, someone other than I was bound to appreciate your steadfastness, your caring nature, and the intelligent turn of your mind.”
Darcy snorted contemptuously. “You are the only lady of my acquaintance who has ever bothered to look beyond my pocketbook. I am viewed as a commodity, and little more.”
“Surely, that is not the case.”
“It matters little. There are few in town whom I consider real friends. I had not yet reached my majority when I learnt to guard myself from the machinations of the ton. There was little incentive to allow anyone to become more than an acquaintance, particularly those of the fairer sex.”
“I cannot imagine how difficult that must have been for you. I am sorry. I fear I gave you little incentive to like me throughout the course of our acquaintance as well. It is a wonder you came to like me at all. That you love me is incredible.”
He laid his hand upon her arm, a brief touch where the warmth of her skin presented a stark contrast to the coolness of his own. “No. You are different. After you have spent a Season in town you will likely understand why I found your impertinence so appealing.”
Elizabeth nodded absently. Her eyes appeared incredibly dark. She bowed her head and Darcy watched her lashes brush her cheeks. She brought her glass to her lips and took a sip—longer this time, unhurried—and licked the brandy from her lips.
Darcy forced himself to concentrate on the topic at hand before he surrendered to the very ungentlemanly impulse to taste the brandy upon her mouth for himself. “Will you not say something?”
“What would you like me to say? Would you like your aunt to meet me?”
“It is more a question of whether I would like you to meet her. I have no ready answer. If Lady Carlisle were to accept you, it would likely secure your place in London’s first circles.
But my friends—the few I do have—will undoubtedly appreciate the value of your society and welcome you warmly, regardless of her opinion.
“If she likes you, my aunt’s blessing may pave the way with my uncle as well. She is furious with him for something he has done, and he is eager to make amends. She went so far as to threaten to divorce him, though I do not believe that will come to pass. My uncle would never stand for it.”
Elizabeth appeared contemplative. “If you do not mind my asking, what has the earl done to anger her to such a degree?”
Darcy shook his head. “Nothing gentlemanly.”
“As I am not a gentleman, I require further clarification. I have read my father’s books, Fitzwilliam. All of them, even the ones on the top shelf. Would you rather I speculate and arrive at my own conclusion?”
Of course, she would have read every damned book in her father’s library. Darcy ran his hand over his eyes as he remembered the argument that they had in Mr Gardiner’s study and the look of devastation upon Elizabeth’s face when she believed he did not trust her.