Elizabeth turned to her sister, eyes wide with disbelief. “Did he just...?”
Jane nodded, her expression sympathetic. “He did.”
Elizabeth slumped back against the sofa, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I cannot believe it. The one night I needed to be free of him, and he’s determined to play the gallant suitor.”
Jane reached over and took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. “You’ll think of something, Lizzy. You always do.”
Elizabeth sighed, her earlier optimism now a distant memory. “I certainly hope so, Jane. Otherwise, this wager might be lost before the ball even begins.”
Elizabeth was still seethingover Mr. Collins’s audacious presumption when the front door creaked open and closed with a faint thud. Mary stepped into the room, carrying a basket.
“Mary, you’ve been out?” Elizabeth asked, more out of politeness than curiosity.
“Yes, I was visiting Maria Lucas,” Mary replied as she removed her gloves. “She wished to consult me on the suitability of certain verses for a letter she means to write. I found her selections rather lacking.”
Elizabeth gave a half-smile, more amused by the familiar primness of Mary’s tone than the subject itself. “How dutiful of you to offer your assistance.”
Mary ignored the teasing tone and sat straighter, a serious expression forming on her face. “I also happened to speak with someone in town, who offered me a word of caution.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “A word of caution? Concerning what, or whom?”
Mary hesitated, clearly weighing her words. “Concerning you.”
“Me?” Elizabeth blinked, caught off guard. “And what am I to be cautious of?”
“I was told,” Mary said slowly, “that your attention toward a certain gentleman is ill-advised. That it will lead only to disappointment and embarrassment.”
Elizabeth stilled, her mind racing. She had little doubt as to which gentleman Mary referred—there was only one whose attention she actively sought at present. But who had said such a thing to Mary? Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, thinking of potential culprits. Wickham? Perhaps. He would have reason enough to sow discord, given her recent snub.
But then again, Charlotte had always been a clever schemer when it suited her. And when would Mr. Wickham have encountered Mary? He probably barely knew she existed, but Mary had come from Lucas Lodge…
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “And who, pray, delivered this dire prophecy of doom?”
Mary hesitated, casting a wary glance toward the doorway. “I do not think it proper to name names. Suffice it to say, Lizzy, I believe your admiration for Mr. Darcy is misplaced.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Come now, what nonsense is this?”
“I am merely repeating what I was told,” Mary said, her voice steady but solemn. “You are free to ignore it, of course, but I felt it my duty as your sister to warn you. You should not pin your hopes on a man like him.”
Aha. Yes, that sounded very like what Charlotte might have said, merely to stir the pot, and Mary was nothing if not a dutifulmessenger. “How thoughtful of you, Mary. I trust the one who warned you of this has some vested interest in my well-being and reputation?”
Mary frowned, clearly missing Elizabeth’s sarcasm. “No, none that I am aware of. But it does not matter who my source is. What matters is that I believe this to be true, and I will go to Papa if I must.”
Elizabeth’s amusement evaporated. “Go to Papa? Mary, you cannot be serious.”
“I am. He may not care about Kitty or Lydia’s flirtations, but I believe he will take a firmer stance if he knows you mean to encourage a man like Mr. Darcy.”
“A man like Mr. Darcy! Tell me, what is so odious about his reputation more than any other gentleman?”
“It is not that,” Mary said hesitantly, toying with nervous fingers over her stomach. “It is only that he is known to be practically engaged. That he gives every appearance of flirting and dallying where he should not, and—”
“Flirting! Mr. Darcy could not even define the word if you put it to him.”
Mary’s jaw went rigid. “He is not acting the part of the gentleman, Lizzy. I know his attentions are insincere.”
Elizabeth stood, pacing the length of the room, trying to rein in her irritation. She knew Mary well enough to recognize that once her sister latched onto something she deemed ‘virtuous,’ she would cling to it with infuriating persistence. Worse, if she truly intended to involve their father, it could complicate Elizabeth’s plans for the ball in ways she could ill afford.
“Very well,” Elizabeth said at last, forcing herself to sound calm. “You’ve delivered your warning. There’s no need to trouble Papa over something as trivial as a few dances at a ball.”
