They had not paused to make themselves presentable, contenting themselves with brushing away what dust they could as they removed their overcoats. Darcy found himself anticipating the privacy of his chamber, along with a bath and a glass of brandy before joining the Hursts for a late dinner. Instead, they were met in the entry by Hurst.
He stood near the foot of the stairs, appearing to have waited some time for their return from the stables. A servant lingered discreetly nearby, ready to relieve the gentlemen of their riding things.
“Has everything been settled?” Hurst asked quietly.
Both men inclined their heads, and once the servant had withdrawn with their coats and gloves, Fitzwilliam briefly related the events of the day. Wickham had been taken away in chains and would be held in the gaol until it was determined how he should be tried, pending Colonel Forster’s decision.
Hurst nodded, but the relief one might expect did not entirely appear.
Darcy noticed the strain in his expression at once.
“Has something else occurred?”
Hurst’s gaze flickered towards the servants before returning to them. “Yes. Two things.” He lowered his voice slightly. “If you will.”
Darcy exchanged a brief look with Fitzwilliam and followed as Hurst led them down the corridor to the billiards room. Fitzwilliam closed the door behind them with a quiet click of the latch.
Adjusting his coat, Darcy smoothed a hand over his waistcoat and flexed his fingers, as though only now permitting himself to acknowledge his weariness.
“First,” Hurst began, “I have at last received word from Bingley.” He exhaled through his nose. “He has informed our sister that she has a fortnight to determine whether she will reside in London, Bath, or elsewhere, yet the choice remains hers. In addition, he has written to you as well hoping you might offer guidance in how to manage her. At least, I assume that is the purpose of his letter. He mentioned he hopes his letters will be forwarded to wherever you are at present and hinted to see whether I might know anything of your location.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened, and a shadow of displeasure crossed his expression.
“Despite her conduct towards your aunt at the theatre,” Hurst continued, “he persists in seeking your assistance. It seems Caroline is still unconvinced that she is unwelcome in your society, and Bingley appears incapable of standing firm. While he says he has given her a deadline for her decision, his letter already betrays hesitation. I fear he will not succeed in settling her within the time he has allowed.”
Moving towards the billiards table, Darcy rested his fingertips lightly against its polished edge, steadying himself. His friend had been far too yielding with his sister in the past, and, like Hurst, he wondered whether Bingley would ever truly learn to withstand her.
“I am not surprised,” he said evenly. “What is the other matter?”
After a brief silence, Hurst shifted his weight and moved towards the sideboard, pouring himself a measure of brandy before continuing. “Several ladies called here today to confirm that Mr Grant is, in fact, Lord Granfield,” he admitted. “It appears the news has spread. When next you see him, pray convey my apologies to the earl. I was so startled when he came to the house the other day that I did not consider he might prefer his title to remain unacknowledged. I still do not comprehend the need for such secrecy.”
Darcy’s expression remained unchanged, but his thoughts moved swiftly. Granfield had not concealed his identity without reason, whether or not he fully understood his motives.
“I believe it has become habit at this point,” Fitzwilliam interjected, folding his arms across his chest. “He serves as a diplomat when required, but he has also learnt much for the Crown by travelling as a tradesman. I cannot fully explain it either, but I know he has made use of several aliases over the years.”
“Lord Granfield anticipated this,” Darcy said after a moment, absently turning a billiard ball beneath his fingers. “We are fortunate the gossip did not spread more fully through the village sooner. From what little Wickham let slip, he appears to have known of the speculation, but lacked confirmation. That may yet prove in our favour.”
Hurst shifted his stance beside the table, one hand resting lightly against its polished edge as he listened.
Darcy set the ball aside and straightened. “I shall speak with Lord Granfield at once. Until Elizabeth and I are married, every precaution must be observed. With this latest development, we may persuade him to advance the date—and even to forgo some portion of the display he considers indispensable.”
He cast Richard a pointed look.
“I have no desire for a spectacle, and your mother would insist upon delaying matters until June at the earliest.”
Hurst’s mouth twitched with faint amusement, while Richard’s composure deserted him altogether. He leant back against the table’s edge, laughter breaking from him in a manner only narrowly short of a guffaw.
“Yes, she will,” Richard said, one brow arching. “She will think it her solemn duty to present you both to every member of theton. An unknown granddaughter of an earl? Society will descend in droves for the novelty alone.”
He regarded Darcy with exaggerated seriousness. “Despite your engagement, you will have your work cut out for you keeping Elizabeth from being admired beyond measure. Do you worry she may throw you over for a peer?”
Hurst gave a quiet huff at that, folding his arms as though to better observe the exchange.
Darcy shook his head at his cousin, a fleeting scowl crossing his features before his mouth curved in reluctant amusement.
“She would not,” he said lightly, “although I suspect I shall be obliged to endure an intolerable number of bows and appraisingglances. I may at least claim the first dances and as many thereafter as decorum permits—and your mother.”
At this, Hurst lifted his glass again, the faint shake of his head betraying his conviction that any scheme involving the countess and restraint was doomed from the outset.
