Chapter 20 #3
Miss Darcy had an excellent sense of humour. “You have discharged it faithfully. I should be delighted so long as my aunt can spare me.”
“You should all come. I suspect my mother will invite the family and perhaps a few other guests.”
They reached Aunt Gardiner before he could say anything further. All three of them strolled out to the Grosvenor gate just as the hour struck and her uncle's carriage came up the street.
“Mr. Gardiner,” Mr. Darcy said as her uncle exited his carriage. “Good morning.”
“Mr. Darcy.” Her uncle stepped down and shook his hand, his face high with colour from the cold. “A raw morning to be kept standing about in the park. I hope we have not detained you.”
“Not in the least. It has been my pleasure.”
Her uncle handed her aunt up into the carriage and saw her settled against the cushions. Then Mr. Darcy stepped forward. “Miss Elizabeth.” He held out his hand. “If you will allow me.”
Elizabeth told herself that she had given her hand to a great many gentlemen at the foot of a great many carriages. It was the smallest of courtesies and signified nothing. She laid her hand in his, and even through her glove she felt his strength.
“Mind the step,” he murmured. “It is slick this morning.”
She was seated before she had quite found her breath. By then he had released her.
“Good day.” Mr. Darcy bowed to them all, met her eyes once more, then strode off towards Upper Brook Street.
The house felt almost too warm after the cold outside. Elizabeth gave her gloves to the maid and had just untied her bonnet when Sally said, “Mr. Aldridge called, ma’am.”
Aunt Gardiner turned at once. “Did he? I did not expect him.”
“Yes, ma’am. He said he was in the neighbourhood on business, and he sat with Miss Bennet above half an hour. He was sorry to miss you and Miss Elizabeth and left his regards.”
“How very kind,” Aunt Gardiner said.
Elizabeth thought this over. It was a rather long visit for a man who had not found the woman he sought at home. Unless . . . “Is Jane still above?”
“Yes, miss, in the parlour.”
They found Jane by the fire embroidering a length of white muslin. “Where is my uncle?” she inquired.
“We left him at the warehouse,” Elizabeth said as she held out her hands to the fire.
“Jane,” Aunt Gardiner said, drawing off her shawl, “Mr. Aldridge was here?”
Jane bent to set another stitch. “Yes.”
“And stayed a little while?”
“About half an hour, I believe. He was in the area and wished to call, for he is leaving town for a few weeks to work on some business of his mother’s.”
“That was kind of him.”
“Yes,” Jane said. “Very civil. He is a kind and sensible man.”
Elizabeth waited, but Jane only smoothed the fabric with her hand and took up her needle again. There was colour in her cheeks, but she kept her eyes on her work.
“And did he speak of anything in particular?” Elizabeth asked.
Jane’s needle paused for so brief a moment that another observer might not have marked it. “No. The weather, how he looks forward to the spring, the journey. He was perfectly agreeable.”
“I do not doubt it,” Aunt Gardiner replied, exchanging a glance with Elizabeth.
Her sister was correct, of course. Mr. Aldridge was everything a gentleman ought to be.
He was well-mannered, intelligent, comfortably situated, and had not insulted Elizabeth before they were even acquainted.
He had asked her opinion on Fielding, who was not to her taste but his expectation that she would have her own opinions showed that he valued her intelligence.
He was, in short, a good man, and affection founded upon sense and goodness was surely to be preferred.
Yet when she tried to imagine Mr. Aldridge calling expressly to see her, she felt only a mild sort of gratification.
She could picture him seated opposite her, making keen observations. She could picture Uncle and Aunt Gardiner approving. She could picture an entire conversation conducted without once having to puzzle out an expression or phrase.
It ought to have been appealing, but instead, she remembered Mr. Darcy striding towards her this morning, and how her traitorous heart had beat a little harder when she saw him.
Elizabeth frowned at the fire.
Mr. Aldridge was civil without effort. At times, Mr. Darcy appeared to find civility a trial. But he had also apologised. And she had forgiven him.
Jane had resumed her work. “You are very quiet.”
“I am thinking.”
“Oh dear. That sounds dangerous.”
Elizabeth glanced at her sister. “You have become quite impertinent these past months, Jane.”
Her sister smiled. “If I have, it is because you are an excellent tutor.”
“Jane—”
“Yes?”
“You have my leave to like Mr. Aldridge, you know. Not that you require it, but you do have it.”
Jane did not reply, only nodded once. Her needle never stopped moving.
Elizabeth was uninterested in Mr. Aldridge unless he was interested in Jane. Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, had entered her thoughts unbidden and refused to leave her in peace.
It was most provoking. But if she was being honest, she could not say it was unpleasant.