“You seem surprised,” his cousin observed.
“Not surprised, precisely.” Elizabeth’s smile was brittle as she set down her cup with deliberate precision. Her movements were a shade too careful. “Merely adjusting my expectations. Forgive me. I had assumed gentlemen of my father’s age, his peers, would be in attendance. The mistake was mine.” She did not look at Darcy, which made her meaning undeniably clear. Her slight emphasis onexpectationswas unmistakable.
For a moment, Darcy saw a flash of despair cross her features before she composed herself. “My uncle Gardiner has already secured passage for my father and me aboard theMary Catherine.I am sure that you will find suitable accommodations elsewhere.”
Cold settled in Darcy’s stomach, and he struggled to maintain equanimity. “Of course, I shall make my own arrangements.”
“You say that your uncle Gardiner booked your passage. How did he come to decide upon theMary Catherinefor your voyage?” Richard asked.
“HeownstheMary Catherineand several other ships. Gardiner Imports is a successful business,” Elizabeth replied sharply. “Though I suppose that might not be apparent to everyone.”
Darcy winced. He had failed to realize that his past prejudices would color her opinion of him. Elizabeth’s reference to her uncle’s business was a test. She wanted to see whether he would reveal the same superciliousness that had once made him deem her family beneath his notice.
In an attempt to restore order, he said, “I was unaware that Mr. Edward Gardiner was your uncle. His excellent reputation precedes him. The port and brandy we keep atDarcy House come from his warehouses.” Darcywasimpressed. “Any man who commands such respect in London’s commercial circles must be exceptional.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose. She had not expected this response. “I agree.”
The conversation continued, but Darcy noticed the distance Elizabeth maintained, not only physically, but in every word and gesture. She was witty and engaging with the others. With him, she was coolly polite, nothing more.
His heart hurt.
The wallsof Netherfield’s cheerful morning room seemed to close in around Elizabeth. The prospect of spending weeks, or months, in Mr. Darcy’s company filled her with a dread she struggled to conceal.
Even as the thought formed, however, she dismissed it. This was her father’s dream. She had seen the prospect light him from within and would not be the one to dim them, no matter the personal cost. And possibly there were no more cabins available on theMary Catherine.That would be good news.
Drawing upon every lesson in comportment her aunt Gardiner had drilled into her, Elizabeth forced herself to speak with perfect civility. “I confess to being curious about our other companion. Pray tell, who received the third invitation?”
“Lord Marcus Burton of Waverly Park in Yorkshire,” Colonel Fitzwilliam readily replied. “A distinguished scholar, according to Professor Drye.”
“However,” Mr. Darcy added. “Lord Burton’s wife is gravely ill. Professor Drye mentioned that the invitation would pass to his son, Lord Arnold Russell Burton, Viscount Levinson, should Lord Burton be unavailable to travel.”
“Are you acquainted with the viscount?” Elizabeth asked the colonel, grasping at any topic that did not require her to look directly at Mr. Darcy.
“I am afraid not. Though I believe he is younger than we are. If he is like his father, he is well educated, though in Scotland rather than Cambridge.”
“Indeed.” Mr. Darcy’s tone suggested a lack of optimism that Viscount Levinson’s presence would contribute anything meaningful to the group.
Elizabeth nodded, filing away this information while her mind raced. If she could not escape this situation, she must master it. Her father deserved her full support, and she would not allow her personal feelings about Mr. Darcy to taint what should be the high point of his lifetime.
She would be pleasant but reserved. She would focus on treating Mr. Darcy with the same courteous indifference she might show any slight acquaintance. Surely, in a group of several people aboard different ships, it would be possible to minimize their interactions. The Mediterranean was vast, after all. Ancient ruins were sprawling. There would be ample opportunity to explore separate areas, thus ensuring that they need not spend more time in each other’s company than necessary.
“How fascinating.” She was calmer now, having formed her resolution. “I am eager to begin this journey, despite the…unexpected composition of our party.”
Let Mr. Darcy make of that what he would. After all, how difficult could it be to avoid one man? She was, she reminded herself, resourceful when the situation demanded it.
The irony was not lost on her that she planned her campaign as methodically as any general preparing for battle. The only difference was that her victory would be measured by territory successfully avoided instead of territory gained.
As the cousinsrode toward London, Richard said what they both knew. “She does not like you.”
“I am now aware of that.”
“More than that. She dislikes you.” His cousin’s tone was matter-of-fact, not unkind.
“Thank you for freely offering your enlightening opinion.” Darcy could not keep the bitter sarcasm from his voice.
“What did you do to her?”
“I…” Darcy struggled with how to explain without revealing too much. “I was not at my best when we first met. I may have given offense.”
