Chapter 16 #2
“I walk with my aunt when we are able. Hyde Park is very fine at ten o’clock, and this time of year there is nobody in it.”
“You walk even in the cold?”
“We do not stay out more than an hour, but yes. Walking warms me better than gloves and a pelisse.”
Miss Finch nodded, satisfied. “That is the first reasonable answer I have had in some time. Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Are you fond of town, Miss Finch?”
“I am very fond of it, in fact. However, this year my mother has decided I must make more of an effort to find a husband. Now I cannot even visit the milliner’s without being informed which ribbons might best improve my prospects.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Sometimes a lady should be allowed to buy a bonnet because she likes it, and not because it is expected to attract a baronet.”
“Precisely. It is a great deal to ask of the bonnet, do you not think?”
As they were laughing at that, her new friend’s mother approached.
“Arabella,” she said, “there is a gentleman who particularly wishes to meet you.” Her hand closed on her daughter’s arm. “You will excuse us, Miss . . .”
“Elizabeth, Mamma. This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Charmed,” Lady Finch said, and then steered her daughter across the room. Elizabeth could not help but be relieved that her own mother was not in town.
Lady Anne, who had been gliding past, stopped before Elizabeth. “Do you know, Miss Bennet, I think that when my friend Mr. Aldridge returns to town, I shall want you to meet him.”
“Mr. Aldridge?” She had never heard of the man.
“No.” Lady Anne paused a full three seconds, smiling. “I shall say nothing of him yet. It never does to introduce a gentleman by his advantages. Only remember the name.”
Elizabeth added it to the season’s list — Mr. Cresswell, Mr. Reed, Mr. Fulford, and now a Mr. Aldridge who was not even in town. She had only begun to calculate how far she might need to be from Mayfair to avoid the introduction when suddenly Mr. Darcy was standing before them.
“Mother. Mrs. Hurst has been looking for you. She seemed to consider it an urgent matter.”
“Well,” Lady Anne said with a little sigh, “a guest must not be kept waiting in want of her hostess.” She reached out to press Elizabeth’s hand. “Remember the name, Miss Bennet.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said when his mother had gone, “you have been standing this half hour in the worst draught in the house. The conservatory is kept warm for the sake of the plants, and some of the party are walking there now. Perhaps you would allow me to show it to you?”
“The draught was Miss Finch’s discovery, sir. We were promised it would keep everyone away.”
He frowned at her. “It did not entirely answer.”
It was kindly meant, she decided. He had seen her slighted by Lady Finch and cornered by his mother, so he used Mrs. Hurst’s concern, whatever it was, to extract her. She took his arm.
The conservatory at the back of the house was small, as one would expect in town. But it was also green and warm. It smelled of earth and orange trees, and after two hours of a room filled with clashing perfumes, Elizabeth liked it very well. Mr. Darcy walked her down the centre of it.
Two ladies she did not know stood at the far corner debating the origins of a camellia, and Mr. Hurst had discovered a bench beneath the lemon tree and gone to sleep on it.
Nobody was within earshot if they spoke in low tones, yet everybody was within view.
It was an excellent room for a conversation, were Mr. Darcy ever disposed to speak.
In the next moment, she was surprised to learn that he was.
“The oranges were my father’s notion,” Mr. Darcy said. “He was told they could not be made to fruit in London. He considered that a challenge to take on.”
A few oranges hung among the glossy leaves, still green at the shoulders, though one or two had begun to ripen towards yellow. “I see he was successful.”
“Yes, though they do not fruit abundantly.” A pause. “He still counted it a victory.” Mr. Darcy touched a leaf and let it go. “I have taken on his work.”
Elizabeth thought that it was very much in character for Mr. Darcy. Even his solitary pursuits were productive ones.
They walked on. Elizabeth searched for a topic, but could not think of one. So she spoke of what was directly before them. “Your mother’s evenings are very well arranged, sir.”
He did not answer at once. “They are the best organised evenings in London.”
“Exquisitely organised. I have never been so efficiently introduced in all my life.”
He chuckled. “I do not believe anyone has. She told me she has introduced three gentlemen to you this winter, Miss Elizabeth.” He sighed. “She has introduced me to several ladies as well.”
“Your mother has informed me that I am to meet her next candidate as soon as he returns to London,” she confided. “I begin to think I ought to absent myself somehow. It may be the only part of the arrangement left to my control.”
Mr. Darcy was silent for a moment. He glanced towards the door, then back to Elizabeth.
“I should not say anything . . .” he began, but hesitated.
“Oh, but now you must,” she said playfully.