Bingley grinned. “A man can hope.”
Darcy shook his head as the carriage pulled to a halt in front of Gardiner’s residence. “For now, I’ll settle for a quiet dinner with a man I can trust—a simple meal without society’s expectations breathing down my neck.”
“Ah, yes,” Bingley sighed, straightening his jacket as the footman came to put down the step. “Trade routes and exchange rates and shipping delays… why did we even bother to leave our studies?”
“Come, now!” Darcy chided as they stepped down. “It will not be entirely disagreeable. Gardiner always kept a fine sideboard, and you used to get on well with Mrs. Gardiner.”
“That is because an elegant, beautiful lady is a delight at any table. You ought to try it yourself sometime, Darcy.”
Darcy shot his friend a pointed look, but there was no time for more conversation. The door swung open, and the butler stepped aside to let them in. Darcy crossed the threshold, feeling a rare sense of relief at the thought of a private evening with talk he could understand. No dancing or fear of offending ladies, no worry that every word out of his mouth would be parsed and printed in the gossip rags the next day. Just ease and…
And then he sawher.
She was standing near the staircase, her back half-turned, speaking to another lady with an ease that looked entirely unselfconscious. Her gown, a deep plum, set off her dark hair, which was swept up in a way that highlighted her cheekbones. But more unfussy ringlets were left to curl softly at her temples, framing her face in a way that lent her a certain gentle elegance. Her expression was animated, her eyes bright with intelligence, as if she were engaged in some private amusement.
But it was her eyes that struck him—clear and direct, and an unexpected, vivid blue. She flicked them over him with a look that held neither fluster nor expectation, and then her gaze moved simply to Bingley with the same lightness.
For a second, he felt caught, as though she’d just swept him into her awareness with the same curiosity he felt now, entirely against his will.
“Darcy?” Bingley murmured, nudging him.
“Right,” he muttered, shifting his gaze back to Mr. Gardiner and extending his hand, though his focus remained strangely split.
Elizabeth adjusted the lacecuff of her sleeve, casting a sidelong glance at Jane, who was smoothing the drape of her gown with altogether too much care. It was apparent to anyone watching that Jane was concealing some small amusement, though she seemed determined not to let it slip. Across the drawing room, Uncle Gardiner stood with his hands clasped behind his back, shifting slightly from one foot to the other as if balancing on deck in a storm.
“Are you quite well, Uncle?” Elizabeth asked. “It seems as though the floorboards are conspiring to keep you in motion.”
Her uncle gave a start and laughed, though it had an awkward edge. “Yes, yes—just restless. We… we do not often host visitors of such… stature.”
“Uncle, I hardly think the gentlemen bite. Besides, I thought you were well acquainted with them already.”
“Oh! To be sure. Though it has been some time since we spoke, and our paths do not often cross these days. Still, I…” He tugged at his cravat as he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I was honored that they accepted the invitation.” But as he shot a fleeting look toward Aunt Gardiner, who was inspecting the room with an air of pleased accomplishment, Elizabeth’s suspicion took root.
Whatever the supposed purpose of this dinner, there was no doubting that her aunt was behind it. Mrs. Gardiner had the air of a seasoned general, surveying the setup and positioning herself just-so, leaving Elizabeth feeling that the timing of this particular invitation had much more to do with her own travel plans than anything related to her uncle’s business.
Moments later, the butler appeared and announced their guests. “Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, sir.”
The gentlemen entered, offering greetings with the smooth polish of men accustomed to society. Mr. Bingley was all warmth, his smile widening as he took in the room with clear pleasure.
But Mr. Darcy, after glancing at his host and hostess, faltered slightly when his gaze fell on her. Elizabeth noted the pause, watching as Mr. Bingley looked faintly alarmed, nudging his partner and murmuring something under his breath. Mr. Darcy quickly regained his composure, but his hesitation struck her somewhat oddly. His pupils dilated far too quickly to be entirely natural, and he was suddenly holding his breath—a mark of a man who would probably much rather be elsewhere.
The reason was not difficult to decipher. Doubtless, the gentlemen had anticipated only seeing her uncle and perhaps her aunt this evening. Elizabeth clenched her teeth slightly behind her polite smile and slid a glance toward Aunt Gardiner, as if she could shuffle the blame for her very presence onto their hostess without having to utter a word.
Mr. Gardiner stepped forward. “Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley—thank you for joining us this evening. It is a pleasure to welcome you again. I daresay it has been far too long.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mr. Darcy replied with a measured nod. “We were pleased by the invitation.”
Elizabeth caught the briefest flicker of tension in her uncle’s stance, just before he glanced at his wife, who gave him a quick, encouraging smile. Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat, turning to Jane. “And I do not believe you have yet had the pleasure of meeting my nieces, Miss Jane Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. They have been visiting us these last two months.”
Mr. Darcy’s gaze turned to them with polite interest as he nodded to each of them. “It is an honor.”
Mr. Bingley, all brightness and ease, followed suit, his smile widening by the moment. “Indeed, Miss Bennet, Miss Bennet. I cannot think of a more pleasant surprise than meeting fair faces in good company.”
Elizabeth smiled, meeting his enthusiasm with a polite nod. Meanwhile, she noticed Mr. Darcy’s gaze flickering between Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner with a faint look of bemusement, as if he sensed the evening’s unspoken motives. If only she could sink through the floorboards…
Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat and turned back to the gentlemen. “Ah, yes, well, please, do be seated, sirs. I must thank you again for accepting our invitation. It is not often I have the chance to host two of the brightest minds on Change Alley. And… of course, we might discuss that recent matter of…” Uncle Gardiner hesitated for an instant, glancing again at his wife. “The, ah… the Lisbon shipments.”
What was that? Elizabeth’s attention shifted between her aunt and Jane, noting the shared, almost conspiratorial look between them at the mention of “Lisbon shipments.” The entire setup felt like a rather elaborate pretense.
