Chapter 4
The false courtship worked astonishingly well. Perhaps too well.
Elizabeth had barely stepped foot into the breakfast room, joining the merry atmosphere among the Gardiner children, when Mrs Gardiner looked up with a bright, knowing smile.
“My dear, you’ll never guess whom we encountered in the street this morning.
Mr Darcy! He inquired about your health most earnestly. ”
Elizabeth fought the urge to run back to her bedroom. Instead, she busied herself by pouring a cup of tea. “Did he?” She cleared her throat, searching for composure. “How attentive of him.”
“Indeed,” Mrs Gardiner beamed. “And so early in the day, too. He even promised to call by the week’s end! How remarkable!”
They had agreed upon their scheme only last night. Mr Darcy wasted no time in making himself visible and setting their plan truly in motion. Elizabeth flushed. “Did he?”
When she offered no further comment, the Gardiners turned to other topics of conversation.
Kind as they were, they did not pry, but the air hummed with quiet curiosity.
Elizabeth could only guess what whispers flitted about the ton this morning.
Mr Darcy, famously private, calling on Gracechurch Street?
Singling out Miss Elizabeth Bennet at a society gathering?
Offering her his arm and his keen attention? It was almost impossible to believe.
Though there was something to be thankful for. Their plan required little effort when society was all too eager to construct its own stories.
Elizabeth hurried through a small breakfast, her appetite badly diminished, and sought Jane in the drawing room.
If there was one person whom she could not bear the thought of lying to, it was her sister.
She could only imagine what Jane would think if she heard the rumour of her and Mr Darcy’s attachment before Elizabeth had the opportunity to tell her.
Jane sat in the window seat, her face anxious before Elizabeth even spoke.
“I must tell you something,” Elizabeth said, joining her sister. “And I fear you may not like it.”
Jane set aside her sewing at once. “Lizzy, please. Whatever it is, you must tell me.”
Elizabeth took a steadying breath. “Mr Darcy and I…” The words were absurd, and yet she had committed to them. “We are to pretend an interest in each other. A…courtship.”
Jane gasped softly. “A courtship?”
“Not a real one,” Elizabeth said quickly, hands lifted as though warding off the very idea.
“It is merely a ruse. A practical arrangement so that we may investigate who is behind these horrible rumours. If we are seen speaking often or meeting privately, it would cause questions otherwise. This will allow us to gather information without inciting suspicion.”
Jane’s brows drew together. “But Lizzy, is such a deception wise? You dislike him greatly. Do you think this is entirely safe? And why should he trouble himself with scandal sheets?”
“Apparently, you are not the only victim of gossip. Did you happen to read anything concerning Miss Georgiana Darcy in those scandal papers?”
Jane’s eyes widened. “No, I have not. They only came to my attention after our aunt heard a story about me had been printed. But someone has spread rumours about Mr Darcy’s sister? And you have agreed to feign a courtship with him?”
“Yes.” Elizabeth smoothed her skirt and wondered why she felt smaller under her sister’s gentle scrutiny.
“I would not have agreed if I had seen any other way. The rumours are too pointed, too cruel. You are being slandered, Jane. And now I am as well. Mr Darcy’s family is threatened.
We must uncover who would stoop so low.”
Jane’s hands tightened around hers. “I understand that. Truly, I do. But are you certain you want to allow the world to believe you are attached?”
“It is only temporary,” Elizabeth insisted. “Once we discover the truth, the rumour will fade, and no one will think twice of it.”
Jane hesitated, concern etched on her lovely face. “Lizzy, what if you are hurt?”
Elizabeth blinked. “Hurt?”
“Your feelings,” Jane clarified. “Or his. You intend to spend time together, to work toward a common goal. Sometimes such circumstances lead to misunderstandings. Or attachments. I would not have you enter something false only to leave with your heart in disarray.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Jane, really. Mr Darcy and I can scarcely tolerate spending a quarter of an hour together. It would take a miracle for either of us to be affected.”
Jane gave her a long, searching look. “Perhaps. But you must promise that you will be cautious. With him and with yourself.”
“I promise,” Elizabeth said. “And I promise it will not go farther than it must.”
Jane squeezed her hand. “Thank you for telling me, Lizzy. And I will keep your confidence. Whatever happens.”
A weight lifted off Elizabeth’s shoulders.
Jane’s good opinion meant the world to her, and she could not in good conscience proceed with her scheme without telling her.
Now at least she had her sister’s understanding.
It gave her courage, for if she had found Aunt Gardiner’s gentle curiosity overwhelming, she would need all her nerve to prepare for the blatant speculation from the ton.
∞∞∞
Later that afternoon, their scheme began in earnest. Mr Darcy arrived, making good on his promise to call. Elizabeth found his promptness sensible, though she had not expected that they should begin so soon.
Inside the Gardiners’ front room, Mr Darcy’s height and quiet command filled the space. Elizabeth felt an unexpected surge of nerves as he entered, then chided herself for being silly. This was their plan, and in order for it to be effective, they had to make it feel as real as possible.
Mr Darcy bowed with impeccable formality. “Miss Elizabeth. Mrs Gardiner. Mr Gardiner.”
Mrs Gardiner looked far more delighted than Elizabeth wished her to be. “Mr Darcy, what a pleasure! Please join us.”
Mr Darcy’s gaze lingered on Elizabeth’s, searching for confirmation. She gave a tiny nod, sharing their first unspoken cue.
He stepped forward and offered a faint inclination of his head. It was a positively warm gesture, coming from him. One that would allow the Gardiners to draw their own conclusions.
Elizabeth felt the shift in the room instantly. She resisted the urge to cover her face with a cushion as he sat across from her.
Mr Darcy cleared his throat. “Miss Elizabeth, I am in possession of two extra theatre tickets this evening, as my sister has a slight cold, and her companion will remain at home with her. Perhaps you and Mrs Gardiner might oblige me by attending with me? The play is said to be a good one.”
“Thank you, Mr Darcy.” Her heart fluttered even as it sank. It was a disorienting sensation. “We would be delighted. If there are no prior invitations we have agreed to, Aunt?”
“We are not otherwise engaged this evening. How thoughtful, Mr Darcy.”
“Then we shall be pleased to attend.”
Mr Darcy stood stiffly, at a loss for words. “Well,” he said finally.
Suddenly, Elizabeth recognised that playing this part was, perhaps, as taxing and unfamiliar for him as it was for her.
“Thank you again, Mr Darcy,” she said, imbuing as much gratitude as she could bear into the words. What she meant was thank you for participating in this farce with me. To her mingled surprise and relief, he seemed to interpret her meaning correctly.
With a promise to send his carriage for them that evening, he departed, leaving Elizabeth wondering if she had indeed made the right choice.