Good Lord.The sensation of flames ignited my face. Did I mistake him, or did he imply much more than a platonic association? I shot a look to my husband. Although his brows constricted, he displayed no sign of shock or surprise. Had he been aware of his friend’s plans? I took a moment to find the best phrasing to impart my concern. “How considerate of you to provide assistance to Mrs. Mead.” I paused summoning a more emphatic tone. “She is a friend of mine, a kind andrespectablelady.”
“Ah yes. I am pleased to have had the opportunity to assist her.” Graham shifted in his chair. “And your praise of the lady is most correct. Sar—um…Mrs. Mead…”
I flinched at his faux pas—he almost used her given name.
“Ahem. Yes,Mrs. Meadis a most admirable lady, and she will continue to enjoy the esteem and fellowship of her neighbours.”
How could he be certain of that? A fluttering sensation beset my abdomen. He and Mrs. Mead had met just yesterday. Why would she have allowed him to be intimate with her? Their liaison seemed so tawdry, so wrong. Then again…maybe I was being missish. After all, how could I judge my friend’s actions? She had endured an unimaginable hardship in losing her beloved husband. After such a tragedy, her loneliness could have driven her to seek comfort wherever possible. No doubt many widows had committed similar acts.
Graham remained quiet thereafter and focused on consuming the impressive pile of food on his plate.
My husband, meanwhile, partook of his own meal but continued to send glances my way. He and Graham must have discussed Mrs. Mead last night, and if so, the conversation would have become heated.
I caught Fitzwilliam’s gaze. “Shall we depart for the Green family’s home in an hour?”
“Yes, that will be convenient.”
Graham’s sight raised to me, and he took a sizable gulp. “Indeed, I shall be ready.”
I gave him a nod. On my left, my husband released an audible sigh.
Fitzwilliam, Graham, and I had reached the vestibule when a breathless and ruddy-complexioned Mr. Cross rushed towards us. Three months earlier, my husband had promoted the diligent young man to under-steward. What could be wrong? I stood by in a rigid bearing.
“Pardon me, sir.” Mr. Cross wrung his hands. “I hate to bother you, but Mr. Smith and Mr. Johnson came to blows moments ago over a missing dog. Mr. Johnson believes Mr. Smith has dispatched the animal in some way while Mr. Smith denies the charge. There has been talk of a duel.”
Dear me. A growing discord had developed between those tenants over the past year.
“Upon my life, those two are more trouble than they are worth.” Fitzwilliam rubbed his jaw. “I shall be there directly.”
“Thank you, sir.” Mr. Cross departed.
“The timing is unfortunate.” I met Fitzwilliam’s gaze. “Under the circumstances, I should rather not delay calling upon the Greens.”
“No, of course not.” Fitzwilliam took my hand. “Pray convey my regrets to the family, especially the elder Mrs. Green.”
“Yes, I shall.”
He squeezed my hand and released it before shifting to Graham. “You ought to come with me. You may find this particular task edifying.”
“No doubt you are correct.” Graham glanced at me. “However, Elizabeth’s undertaking is no less consequential, so I shall do what I can to assist her. We shall provide whatever comfort we may to Mrs. Green. I am a poor substitute for you, to be sure, but I shall try my best to provide the woman a bit of cheer.”
“As you wish.” My husband’s response sounded a touch bearish. We left the house, and Fitzwilliam parted ways from Graham and me.
At the Greens’ humble home, Mrs. Selina Green, a woman in her third decade, offered us a warm welcome. When I introduced Graham, she gave him a look that might be called an ogle.
I waited a beat for her to become inured to Graham’s uncommon appearance. “My husband had intended to come,but a last-minute estate matter required his presence. He sends the family his best regards.”
Her gaze returned to me. “I’m sorry to miss seeing Mr. Darcy but pleased you and Mr. Graham are here.” Selina sneaked another glance at Graham, who set the basket of provisions we brought for them on a table. In our subsequent exchange of polite enquiry, I assured her of Bennet’s continued good health, and she returned the sentiment, adding that her two children worked the fields with their father today. When Selina led us towards Mrs. Green’s room, I removed the jar of Pomfret cakes from the basket.
Selina knocked upon the open bedroom door. “Mother, look who’s come to see you.” She waved Graham and I closer, and the two of us entered the room.
“My goodness, Mrs. Darcy, it is a blessing to see you. I do so enjoy your visits.” Mrs. Green's rheumy eyes glinted at me.
“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Green.” I fought to maintain a cheerful exterior. The effects of the disease had ravaged her vitality, and she appeared a full decade older than her six-and-forty years.
She raised into a seated position, and I moved to the bedside, adjusting the pillow behind her. She nodded her thanks. “And who’s this handsome stranger? I’ve never seen such a striking gentleman—aside from Mr. Darcy, of course.”
At this, Graham came closer and favoured Mrs. Green with a dazzling smile. I performed the introductions.
