Chapter 30 #2
“You did,” her ladyship said. Her grin was much wider than her nephew’s. “Should you like me to apologise for you?”
“He has already apologised,” Elizabeth said, feeling bad. She had not intended to cause her friend any bother. “There is no need to say it again.”
“You are generous indeed,” Mr Hartham told her sincerely.
“If you will not allow me to grovel, will you at least allow me to take you to Miss Cowley’s for some tea and one of her famous biscuits?
” He leant down and added in a loud stage whisper, “We do not have to take my aunt. She does not like biscuits.”
“Or Miss Cowley!” Lady Preston added proudly.
Elizabeth smiled fondly at them both. “That would be very nice, thank you.”
Miss Cowley’s confectionery shop was busy, but they managed to find a table.
Mr Hartham ordered a large selection of biscuits, far more than they could eat, insisting that Elizabeth could have but one bite of each if she chose, but that the extravagance was proportionate to his remorse.
Elizabeth gave up telling him it was not necessary.
A hundred bites of a hundred different biscuits would not help resolve matters, but the treats were delicious, and as pleasant a distraction from her worry as anything else she had tried.
They stayed for an hour before she announced that if she drank any more tea, she would dissolve, and they gave up their table and left the shop. The sun was high and bright outside, and Elizabeth had to shield her eyes to see the person who greeted them on the street outside.
“Lieutenant Denny!” she said upon recognising him.
“It is good to see you. I have been wanting to thank you, most sincerely, for…” She could not think how to mention the note he had sent from Colonel Sullivan’s party without mentioning Lydia’s transgression, but Denny yet again proved himself a friend by not requiring her to do so.
“Think nothing of it, madam. I trust you are still enjoying your time in Brighton? And your sister, Miss Lydia, hers?”
“Lydia has gone home to Longbourn, but she enjoyed her stay, thank you, sir. It was blessedly uneventful.” Elizabeth could feel Mr Hartham’s curious gaze on her and thought it prudent to change the subject. “You remember Mr Hartham, do you not? You were introduced at Lady Rosse’s ball, I believe.”
Denny turned to him. “Yes, I recall. And I beg you would forgive me my manners—I ought to have begun by offering my congratulations to you both.”
Elizabeth felt something tighten inside her.
Panic, perhaps. Anguish? This wretched rumour seemed set to dog her forever.
She regretted not having brought a maid to chaperon her; it was too easy to forget how stepping out with Mr Hartham might appear to others simply because she knew there would never be anything between them.
“No congratulations are necessary. We are not engaged,” she replied tightly. “That report has been wildly exaggerated. We are good friends, but nothing more.”
“Gosh, I do apologise,” Denny replied.
“Do not distress yourself,” Mr Hartham said jovially. “I have been rumoured as being engaged to far less handsome ladies than Miss Bennet.” He laughed, and Elizabeth smiled, but Denny only grimaced.
“You might be less grateful to me than you were a moment ago, Miss Bennet,” he said. “I, um…I am afraid I mentioned your engagement in my latest letter to a friend of mine in Meryton. I am sure he did not mention it to anyone, but—”
Elizabeth let out a long breath; this explained a good deal. “She mentioned it. My mother has heard the report and spun it into a fait accompli.”
Both Denny and Mr Hartham groaned and apologised again.
“I shall write directly to correct the error, of course,” Denny assured her.
“Good man,” Mr Hartham said. He looked as though he would say more but was interrupted when a white dog appeared from nowhere and began sniffing around his boots. “Hullo! Who’s this fellow?” he asked, picking up his feet and dancing about on the spot to avoid being licked.
Elizabeth was fairly sure she knew whose dog it was and looked around for his owner, spotting him immediately, leaning against the wall of the confectioner’s behind them, inspecting his nails.
She felt a rush of anticipation, which was absurd, for Darcy’s cousin was no substitute for the man himself.
He was, however, the nearest person to him that she had seen for days, and the possibility of hearing news of him made her giddy.
She curtseyed. “Good day, Lord Saye.”
“Miss Bennet. Mr Hartham.” He did not acknowledge Denny, who took the opportunity to give a quick bow and make his escape.
“My lord,” Mr Hartham said with a small bow. “How did you fare at Colonel Sullivan’s table in the end?”
His lordship made a disgusted noise and pushed away from the wall, clicking his tongue at his dog to call him to heel. “I lost an indecent amount of money, my left boot, and some of my chest hair, which is still baffling me.”
Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt; she had quite forgotten his part in rescuing Lydia. “That sounds excessively trying. I am sorry for you. I did hear that there were some success stories from the evening, though? That is something to be grateful for.”
She could not tell from his expression whether he had taken her meaning, and his next words certainly did not shed any more light on the matter.
“I did have the comfort of knowing my dear boy here was excessively diverted by, um…shall we say relieving himself in Sullivan’s tricorn.
And besides, it seems my evening was not as bad as yours, for you were engaged when I left Marine Parade, and now it seems you are not.
At least I did not have to contend with a broken engagement while I was gambling my fortune away. ”
Elizabeth opened and closed her mouth as she sought for, and failed to find, the right words with which to reply. To her relief, Mr Hartham cleared his throat and spoke up.
“There is no broken engagement, my lord, only a regrettable error on my part. I was…precipitate in announcing that Miss Bennet and I were betrothed.”
This time, there was no mistaking what Lord Saye thought; his amusement was blatant. “Badly done, Hartham! Even I would trouble myself to ask the question first.”
Seeing Mr Hartham blush furiously, Elizabeth hastened to say, “He did ask, and he cannot have all the blame for the ensuing misunderstanding. I have learnt the hard way what pain and regret can come from a carelessly made refusal, and I wished to be kinder to him than—” She left ‘Mr Darcy’ unsaid.
If Lord Saye knew about his cousin’s proposal, then it did not require saying; if not, then she had no intention of breaking Darcy’s confidence.
Instead, she finished, “I may have couched my ‘no’ in terms so gentle, it became indistinguishable from a ‘yes’.”
Mr Hartham shook his head, muttering about it being entirely his fault, but it seemed Lord Saye had tired of the conversation, for he yawned loudly and announced his intention to be gone. “I must escort my cousin back to London.”
“Mr Darcy?”
Lord Saye barked a laugh. “It has been about twenty-seven years since Darcy required anyone to hold his leading strings—and even longer since we all gave up trying to tell him where to go or what to do. No, I refer to Miss Hawkridge.”
“Will you return to Brighton?” Elizabeth asked, hoping he would answer for Darcy as well as himself.
“My plans are not yet fixed. But you must not worry that I shall renege early on the lease. Despite the house’s sincerest attempts to scare me off.”
Elizabeth winced contritely. “You have been very patient with everything that has gone wrong. I am not sure I would have been so complacent had my house been invaded by seagulls, or had I fallen through the floor, or had a wall almost fallen on top of me.”
“Vexing happenings to be sure, but I was talking about the fact that the house is haunted.”
“Haunted?” Mr Hartham repeated sceptically, which made Elizabeth laugh.
“I had completely forgotten about all that.” Her laughter died on her lips when both gentlemen turned to look askance at her.
Lord Saye’s eyes were narrowed. “Forgotten about all what?”
Oh lord! Her cheeks warmed, and she bit her lips together.
“Perhaps you might ask Miss Hawkridge to explain on your journey to London. Mr Hartham and I really must be going. Good day, my lord.” She took Mr Hartham’s arm, ready to pull him away, but paused briefly, gathering her courage to say, “And please, if you do see Mr Darcy, give him my warmest regards.”