Elizabeth ground her teeth together, fighting the impulse to argue. She understood well enough. If they refused, it would be noted, perhaps even considered an insult. The earl had made it clear that he had an interest in her association with Mr. Darcy, and it would not serve the Gardiners well to appear ungrateful—or worse, uncooperative.
Her uncle sighed, softening. “I do not wish to ask more of you, Elizabeth, especially after all you have endured these past days. But I must be practical. There are certain advantages to remaining in his good opinion.”
She met his gaze, reading the unspoken words between them. Not just his business—his reputation, his standing, the careful network of trust and opportunity he had spent years cultivating. And Elizabeth, whether she liked it or not, was now a piece on that board. She inhaled slowly, forcing herself to consider the situation rationally.
She was no longer helpless in this.
She and Mr. Darcy had already agreed—however reluctantly—that this entire scheme was nothing more than a pretense. They had not yet settled on a plan, but they would.
For now, all she had to do was play the part.
Mrs. Gardiner reached across the table and took Elizabeth’s hand. “It will only be a few hours, my dear. You need not like it. You need only endure it.”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched slightly. Endure it?
No. She would do more than endure it.
She would learn.
She would observe.
And she would ensure that—if this farce must continue—she would have some say in how it was played.
She sat back, folding her hands in her lap. “Very well. Let us go to Matlock House.”
Darcy had hardly steppedinside Matlock House before realizing he had been drawn into a set snare.
The air in the grand drawing room was thick with expectation, the sort of charged energy that came not from idle social pleasantries but from carefully laid plans unfurling into motion.
And he was standing directly in the center of it.
Lady Matlock was the first to greet him. “Darcy, my dear nephew, I was beginning to think you meant to avoid us this evening.”
Darcy inclined his head politely. “I only just returned from my club when I received your invitation, Aunt. Had I known my presence was of such great concern, I might have hurried.”
Her smile was the sort that made him wary. “Oh, I have no doubts about that.”
“Ah, there you are, nephew!” The earl strode toward him, a glass of port in one hand, the other already outstretched in welcome. “I trust you have recovered from our last discussion?”
Darcy accepted the handshake, his grip firm. “I have given it thought, if that is what you mean.”
The earl clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. You will find that others have given it thought as well.”
Darcy frowned slightly. What others?
Before he could ask, the butler entered the drawing room.
“The Gardiners and Miss Bennet, my lord.”
Every muscle in Darcy’s body went rigid.
Of course.He turned just in time to see Miss Bennet stepping into the room, her aunt and uncle on either side of her. Her features wore an easy expression, but he could see it—the slight stiffness in her posture, the careful restraint in her usually eloquent eyes.
She was as unprepared for this evening as he had been.
The earl, however, was all ease and affability. “Mr. Gardiner! A pleasure to see you again,” he declared, his voice loud enough to draw attention from nearby guests.
“Lord Matlock,” Mr. Gardiner replied with a respectful bow. “We are honored by your invitation.”
