Chapter 9 At Loggerheads
“Elizabeth!” her husband called.
What did he want now? She was already late to dress for dinner and on her way to find the housekeeper. She would like to know where the Meissen chinoiserie was stored.
She popped her head inside the door and hoped the matter could be resolved with a simple yes or no.
“You called, dearest.”
“Yes, did you replace the Shang gui for the Zhou in the library?”
“I did.”
“Would you please return the Shang to the library?”
“That is not possible.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because I gave it to Princess Augusta.”
Mr Darcy shot to his feet, lost his balance, and had to steady himself on the desk. His chin dropped, leaving his mouth agape. Elizabeth almost chuckled but reined in her mirth when espying his contracted brows.
“Princess Augusta came to our house, without you having been presented or even introduced?”
“Yes. I suppose it was because she was a great friend of your mother’s.”
Darcy closed his mouth and resumed his seat, steepling his fingers. His expression reverted to one of absence of mind before he rose and pulled the tassel to summon his butler. The servant arrived after three long, silent minutes.
“Could you confirm which ladies visited Mrs Darcy this morning?” her husband questioned.
“It was only the one, sir. Miss Augusta Molesworth.”
“Why did you not inform Mrs Darcy that it was Miss Molesworth? You must have seen that she presented herself as someone else on her card.”
“I do not read the cards, sir. I would never invade Mrs Darcy’s privacy in such a manner.”
“Very well, you are dismissed.”
Mr Gilbert hesitated but a moment before leaving them.
“But…her card said—” Elizabeth closed her mouth when Darcy advanced towards her with his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Her card was obviously false. Did you not question anyone as to the veracity of her assertions? And why would you give a morning caller, princess or not, a Chinese artefact? Especially one displayed in my library, where no ladies are allowed? Well, you and the housekeeper I must exempt…” Darcy’s voice rose with each sentence.
“She already knew it was here and entreated me to view it. When she laid her eyes upon it, she was immediately enamoured and so exhilarated that she demanded I give it to her. What could I do but comply with the demands of the daughter of our king?”
“A king’s daughter!” Darcy spat. “She is the daughter of a swindler. Richard Molesworth is the third Viscount Molesworth of Swords, and Miss Molesworth is a thief who will put anything she likes into her reticule. If the item is too big, she will beg you to give it to her. Only on rare occasions will she offer to pay a significantly reduced price, which she knew perfectly well I would never accept. A princess?” Darcy mocked.
“She lives in a small, dilapidated apartment.”
Her husband’s nose was inches from her face, crinkled in disgust.
“Lady Matlock said—”
“I would advise you not to imply that my aunt is culpable for any part of this scheme.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard and blinked to relieve the pressure building up behind her eyes.
“Was the bowl valuable?”
“The gui was three thousand years old and priceless! Not to forget that it was my mother’s most precious possession. Which is why I kept it in my library as opposed to any of the public rooms.”
Elizabeth cowed in front of his imposing figure.
“I shall leave for Miss Molesworth’s apartment at once and retrieve it.”
“And make us the laughingstock of the haut ton as the most capricious fools who cannot decide whether to give or take?”
“I am certain she will agree to remain silent on the subject.”
“Highly unlikely,” Mr Darcy growled.
“Then what shall I do?” Elizabeth waved her arms in exasperation.
“Hide all valuables the next time she calls. It is unfortunate that you have made that lady’s acquaintance, and with the extraordinary fortune she left with today, she will henceforth be a regular guest.”
“I am shocked and grieved that my poor decision cost you so dearly, both in monetary and sentimental value. I should not have list—” Elizabeth almost blamed Lady Matlock again, but the fault was all her own.
How could she have been so stupid! She should have known better than to offer the bowl that Darcy cherished so much as to have on display in his favourite room.
“I should never have allowed myself to be persuaded to part with the gui.”
“No, you should not. If this travesty should ever repeat itself, you must beg your excuses and state that you must confer with me before any decisions are made.”
“But that will imply I am not mistress of this house.”
“That is of lesser consequence than having our fortune depleted, piece by piece.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, to quash the angry retort resting on her tongue, and nodded.
She had erred, and Darcy’s anger must be instigating the arrogant, patronising words.
Elizabeth clenched her teeth until her jaw hurt.
The blood boiled in her veins; if she spoke, she would say something she would later regret.
There was nothing to do but correct her mistake, regardless of how little she relished the embarrassment.
“If there is nothing else, I have household matters that require my attention.”
Darcy dismissed her with an indifferent wave. Elizabeth hastened out of the study and was relieved when she found Mr Gilbert immediately.
“Do you know Miss Molesworth’s address?” she asked.
“Her rooms are on the south corner where Davies Street meets Mount Street,” the butler informed her.
It was unnervingly close to Grosvenor Street and Hurst House, but she would arrive from the opposite side to avoid detection.
How Miss Bingley would gloat should she ever discover how foolish I have been!
It was a blessing that she was not so afraid of being laughed at as Darcy, though the thought was much more disconcerting when she had done something truly stupid.
Elizabeth grabbed her parasol and shawl before she enlisted Tommy to escort her. He was the youngest and least experienced of their footmen, and it was to be hoped that he would not question her manoeuvres.
Striding to Davies Street, she knocked on the door and waited impatiently. The old landlady invited her in, by sheer fortune, just as Miss Molesworth arrived in the entrance hall. Her eyes widened upon espying Elizabeth, but she recovered quickly.
“Mrs Darcy, what a pleasure to see you so soon.” Miss Molesworth waved the landlady away and made it clear that she was not to be invited farther into the house.
Elizabeth was expecting guests and had no time to mince her words.
“You cannot be ignorant of my reason for being here. You were not honest with me and lied about everything from your title to the value of the gui.”
Miss Molesworth’s stricken face did nothing to alleviate Elizabeth’s pique. Her game was up, and the sooner the lady realised it the better.
“A moment, if you please,” the lady begged after an uncomfortable silence.
She disappeared through a door and a muffled conversation followed.
The other party was male, but they were speaking in tones that were too low to discern the words when Miss Molesworth’s voice rose in concern. “But what if she notifies Mr Darcy?”
It was to be hoped that the conclusion to that exclamation was the return of the artefact.
The conversation continued for another minute before Miss Molesworth returned to Elizabeth with the gui in her hands. Without a word, the lady offered her the vessel, and she wasted no time taking her leave.
When she arrived home, Darcy was pacing the entrance hall, raking his hands through his hair.
“Elizabeth! You cannot leave the house without telling anyone where—”
Darcy’s eyes fixed on the gui in her arms. He pressed his lips together and gestured towards the study.
Elizabeth sighed and complied; she was about to receive her second scolding of the day.
When the door closed behind her, Darcy turned his dark eyes upon her.
“You went to Miss Molesworth’s to retrieve the gui against my express wishes?”
Elizabeth said nothing as the question was clearly rhetorical.
“What could have possessed you to act so imprudently?”
“I am not as opposed to being laughed at as you,” Elizabeth muttered with affected indifference.
A puzzled frown created two dents between Darcy’s brows. At least he listened to the defence of her undertakings.
“Are you not the least pleased that your priceless possession has been returned to you?”
Darcy flattened his palms over his hair, which was in shocking disarray.
“How did Miss Molesworth respond to your request to return the gui?”
“She conferred with a gentleman, who I believed was her father as the voice sounded feeble and weak. She expressed concern you might arrive to retrieve it, and they agreed to my entreaty.”
Darcy shoulders lowered into their natural position.
“Very well,” he muttered. “I suppose we must prepare for dinner.”
Elizabeth could have cried with relief. She had chosen a sensible husband, but now she was truly pressed for time.
As much as she would have liked to enquire about the preparations for the evening’s meal, it was too late to confer with the housekeeper.
She had just about enough time to change out of her day gown into her evening attire.
Mr and Mrs Hurst were coming for dinner, and she had been unable to avoid inviting Miss Bingley, too, despite how little she enjoyed her company, so looking her best was of the essence.
She rang for her maid and was prepared in time to greet her guests.
“What an exquisite necklace!” Mrs Hurst exclaimed upon espying her.
“Yes.” Elizabeth adjusted the drop pendant. “Mr Darcy gave it to me this morning.”
“It has been an expensive day,” Darcy remarked flatly in what must have been an unthinking moment of exasperation. “The necklace was nothing compared to willingly allowing Miss Molesworth to abscond with my Shang gui.” He added aloud what he surely had meant to be a thought.
Darcy looked as shocked as Elizabeth felt and met her gaze with a plea to be pardoned, but the damage was already done.
“The one you kept in your library?” Mr Hurst queried, a deep frown marring his bloated features.
“The very one,” Darcy confirmed lightly. “Fortunately, Elizabeth managed to persuade Miss Molesworth to return it.”
“She demanded the gift be returned?” Miss Bingley smirked whilst her head moved between Darcy, Elizabeth, and exchanging sly looks with her sister.
The aforementioned ladies’ incredulous laughter added insult to Elizabeth’s injury.
“What a terrible mistake! I am sure it is the most sought-after piece of Chinese art in all of England, and Mrs Darcy gave it away? I cannot account for it.” Miss Bingley turned to her hostess. “What could you have been thinking?”
Elizabeth chose to avoid the question and guided her guests to the dining room.
It was a blessing to sit opposite Darcy on this occasion, as she usually sat beside him when they were alone.
She had erred, but it was not necessary to advertise her blunder to all and sundry.
Especially in the presence of Miss Bingley.
When the strained dinner was over and the guests had left, Darcy announced that he had business in his study.
“You may retire, dearest. I shall be but a moment.”
“I shall join you.” It was in her interest to gain more knowledge upon the subject of Chinese artefacts.
“That would not be productive. I shall finish my letters much quicker without you distracting me from my purpose.”
“Will you allow me to fetch a book? I shall be out of your way within minutes,” Elizabeth promised.
Darcy nodded with a deep sigh that made Elizabeth hasten to retrieve the tome she wanted and leave as promptly as possible.
She put the book on a table while she undressed before settling in a chair by the fire. She might as well read while she waited for her husband to join her.
Elizabeth awoke in the morning to a cold and lonely bed, still in her robe, with a vague memory of being carried in Darcy’s arms.