“Thank you, Boone.” She felt like she should wave and say something posh like “carry on” so that the men would resume eating. They were a motley lot, and itstruck Elizabeth as strange that she should feel as comfortable as she did in a taproom filled with rough sailors.
She walked past the curtain separating Lord Matlock’s private parlor from the others, and stopped short when she saw Fitzwilliam sitting beside his brother at the table. A maid poured coffee into their cups, and Elizabeth watched with increasing interest as both brothers poured the same amount of cream, measured one spoonful of sugar into their cups, and stirred clockwise precisely three times before they harmoniously shook the spoon and balanced it along the edge at the top of their plates. Both were completely unaware of their synchronous behavior.
She joined them, taking the place Lord Matlock motioned for her beside him and the colonel at the table. He nodded at the empty chair on her other side when Alexandra walked into the parlor shortly afterward.
Alexandra was not wearing the gown, as Elizabeth had hoped she would. Lord Matlock’s cheerful countenance briefly flickered with disapproval, but he replaced it with a smile, saying, “I am pleased we may partake of one more meal together before we must part ways. Richard and I shall continue to Devonshire with Nick. Darcy shall remain with you to receive Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner.” He checked his pocket watch. “I expect them shortly. Then he shall return with you to London where his sisterwaits, and you, Miss Alexandra, may stay as a guest at Matlock House. My wife and daughters shall take good care of you.”
Alexandra stiffened. “I’ll stay with Nick.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips. She was no more pleased than Alexandra, and she particularly hated being the reason Fitzwilliam would not stay with his brother.
Lord Matlock lowered his chin, meeting Alexandra’s stare boldly. “You shall travel with Miss Elizabeth. Once we find the answers we seek, we shall join you in town. Unless you decide to accompany Miss Elizabeth to Hertfordshire, upon which we shall meet you there. That choice shall be yours to make, but this one is not. You go to London.” His voice brooked no argument, but that did not discourage Alexandra.
“I ride as good as Nick. I don’t need a carriage.”
“You would be the only lady in our party.”
“I don’t need no special treatment. I can sleep by the fire just like any man. I won’t be no trouble to ye.”
Lord Matlock’s gaze bore into her. “I doubt that, young lady.”
Nick and the colonel laughed. Fitzwilliam clenched his jaw.
Anger flushed in Alexandra’s cheeks, and her eyes darted to the knife on the butter dish.
Elizabeth rested her hand gently over Alexandra’s. “Perhaps your arguments will be more effective if you test them out in your own mind before attempting to use them to persuade an equally strong-minded man.”
Alexandra’s hand clenched into a fist, but shedropped her gaze away from the knife. “Nothin’ I say’ll change his mind.”
“Throwing a butter knife at him will not help your cause either.”
Alexandra grimaced. “I wasn’t gonna hurt him. Just get his attention, like.”
“And by getting his attention, you mean to intimidate him to change his mind?”
“Probably won’t work, will it? I’d end up worse off than before.”
Elizabeth smiled at her. “You catch on quickly.”
“But I still don’t have what I want.” Alexandra scowled.
“Sometimes a bit of patience is all that is required. Your betrothed shall soon join you in London. In the meantime, I am certain my father, aunt, and uncle would be happy to meet you. Not to mention their children! They would love nothing more than to hear some of your stories … the tamer ones, mind. We could even arrange for you to have a few dresses made.”
“Why do the gents get to wear leather and silk, and us ladies are stuck with scratchy cloth?”
So, shehadtried the gown then.
“I don’t know how ye’re wearin’ it, Elizabeth. It’s awful. Ye couldn’t pay me to put that against me skin. And there’s the matter of the skirt. How do ye mount a horse or climb a hill? I swear I’d have to hold the skirts up to me knees to do anything at all. And me knives! Wherewould I hide ‘em?”
Elizabeth imagined a trip to the modiste with Alexandra and tried not to giggle.
It was then, while her smile was wide, that her father and uncle Gardiner walked into the parlor.
Elizabeth jumped up from the table, leaving the chair toppling behind her, and into her father’s arms. “Papa! You are here! I am so glad you have come!”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair, his breath shaky. He dabbed at his eyes when Elizabeth welcomed her uncle with a hearty embrace. Papa patted her arm, as though making certain she was not some apparition.
“What a relief to see you safe and well. You are well, Lizzy? That was a rough lot we passed in the taproom,” he said, gesturing behind him.
