“Make way!” grumbled a sour voice behind him. Darcy started. He turned about and looked full into the face of Lady Wexley, who had apparently destined that very same millinery shop for her own custom.
Darcy felt his stomach lurch, and his toes curled in dread. She could never fail to recognise him, particularly not after the way she had repeatedly thrown herself into his path last season before Lord Wexley had claimed her hand. He closed his eyes and prepared the explanation he knew would be demanded, but she only groused in the direction of the two young ladies.
“Have your footman stand back!” she hissed at them. The rest of her words were offered to the benefit of no one in particular, and everyone in general, so that all might appreciate her lament. “Abominably rude, these tradesmen’s daughters. Walking about town with a strapping footman in counterfeit colours and putting on airs as if they were gentlemen’s daughters! It seems that simplyanyonemay now shop in this part of town,” she sniffed.
She passed on by Darcy as if she had not even noticed him, and he began to breathe… only very faintly. She had not recognised him! She would not even look at him, clad as he was! His heart began to beat a little more quickly. Oh, the possibilities!
The dark-haired minx before him did not seem at all put out by her abuse at the hands of Lady Wexley. She appeared, rather, to be struggling mightily against an outburst of laughter. Her eyes danced, and she was obliged to tip her face slightly away as a distinct snicker escaped her.
The younger girl, the one with the lighter hair, still seemed vexed. Hand on hip, she glared after the closing door. “Lizzy, did you hear what that odious woman said about us? I should tell our aunt, if it would not grieve her.”
“Indeed, few could not have heard, Kitty,” chuckled the elder sister. She composed herself and extended her hand once moreto Darcy. “May I have my bonnet? It seems my presence in this neighbourhood has distressed some of its residents, so I shall take my leave.”
He gave her the parcel, realising only after she had taken it that he was puzzling curiously over her face. Was it the pert little nose, so unfashionable in the finer circles, or the faint crease in her fair skin where a wider smile lurked behind the demure one? Perhaps it was simply the shape of her cheekbones—high yet soft—contrasted with the sharp intensity of her dark eyes, which was so interesting to look upon.
“Is something amiss with my appearance?”
“No!” He cleared his throat and bowed. “Forgive me, madam.”
One side of her mouth tipped upward. “I take it by your presence here that you are out upon another errand for your master or, perhaps, your mistress?”
He opened his mouth to make a reply but could think of absolutely nothing to say. He abhorred disguise, and her presumptions, if he were to verify them, would be the worst trail of lies imaginable. But the truth—the truth was even more wretched! He settled instead for diversion.
“I have not yet made my way back. I… do not think I am expected.”
“In that case,” the young lady smiled, “you have a holiday. I suggest you use it to best advantage, rather than lurking outside of milliners’ shops.”
“Indeed. If I may be so bold,” he looked about, “I cannot help but note that you are unescorted. Do you often walk out without protection?”
“Gracious, but you are impertinent! Perhaps I have been permitted too much freedom, but I am not alone. My sister is with me, as you see.”
Darcy glanced at the other girl, who was tapping her toe and pouting her impatience. “Of course. May I call for a chaise to take you back to your dwelling?”
“That will not be necessary, but I thank you. We are rather accustomed to walking and most fond of our liberties.”
“As far as Gracechurch Street? Your… your uncle permits such?”
She stared at him with some incredulity, her brow furrowed and her head shaking faintly at his audacity.
Footman, you are a footman! “Forgive me, madam, I spoke out of turn. Your uncle seems a… a generous man.”
“My uncle is among the kindest and most noble men alive,” she vowed, those eyes sparking in defence of her relation. “I will not have it said that he is remiss in his duties. Certainly, he would have insisted upon a carriage, had we informed him when we set out that our walk would become such an outing. And if you are, after all, seeking employment, you could do far worse than applying to Mr Edward Gardiner.”
A thought pricked Darcy. “He is an… honest… employer?”
The lady tipped her shoulders lightly. “I am perhaps biased, but I can testify that his staff are all exceedingly loyal and speak well of him.”
Darcy winced. That remark stung more than he cared to admit. He stifled the feeling, intending to dissect it later, and swept them a gracious bow. “In that case, madam, may I offer my escort to the ladies as they return to their residence? I would count it an honour to carry their parcels.”
“Well,” the younger girl spoke up for the first time in some while, “he certainly knows how to be chivalrous when he wants to be, Lizzy.” To this, she added some mischievous grin, which remained a mystery to Darcy, but ‘Lizzy’ seemed to understand perfectly.
“I am sorry, Lizzy, but your uncle has gone out. I understand there was some urgent message from the warehouse. I am in hopes that he shall have returned within the hour so that we might still takeour outing, but perhaps it might be more serious than that. I do apologise, Lizzy!”
Elizabeth tried not to show her disappointment. Her aunt and uncle were the most gracious hosts, and she would not wish to seem ungrateful. “Thank you, Aunt, but it is no matter. I will wait to speak with him when he returns.” She stepped back toward the door, but her aunt’s voice stopped her.
“Was there something of import? Perhaps I might be able to advise you.”
“No, Aunt, it was nothing quite like that. I only wondered if Uncle might be seeking another household servant. I shall ask when he returns.”
