As if struck by hearing her name, he searched the room until his gaze met hers, and his brow furrowed in his usual look of disdain for her. Well, at least she had made a lasting impression during their brief acquaintance; the feeling was quite mutual. She debated whether or not he was near enough that she might make some barb, when Mr. Darcy began striding that way.
At the same moment, a woman about the same age as Mrs. Clay peeked into the room – Mrs. Younge, Elizabeth supposed. The woman waved over Mr. Tilney and handed him a folded note which, after a brief perusal, put a grimace on his jovial face.
Miss Morland perceived it as well, and began to murmur her curiosity, when Mr. Darcy bowed before them. “Miss Bennet, it is a pleasure to meet with you again. I am not acquainted with any of the other guests.”
“Surely a man who has moved as much in the world as you have, if Miss Bingley is to be believed, is perfectly capable of recommending himself to strangers… so long as they are not met in a ballroom. I shall seem paltry consolation by the end of dinner, I am sure,” Elizabeth said merrily, before presenting her companion.
“Mr. Darcy, Miss Morland. I was rather friendless myself until meeting my new friend; we were just preparing ourselves for a robust discussion of poetry, to be inevitably followed by tender entreaties to call one another sister, as is customary for fanciful young ladies."
Mr. Darcy smiled. “Do you mean to persuade Miss Morland of the efficacy of sonnets in driving away love?”
Elizabeth laughed, feeling a vague recollection of having spoken such nonsense to provoke him in Meryton. She turned round to introduce her uncle, who had been chatting so eagerlywith Lady Allen that Elizabeth was sure the tales of him being a ladies’ man in his youth must be merited indeed, yet now, he looked rather grave.
“Mr. Darcy, this my uncle, Sir Edward Gardiner. Uncle, Mr. Darcy is a friend of Charles; he stayed at Netherfield when my brother first came to reside there.” Elizabeth surveyed her uncle, whose gaze wavered between the three ladies; he seemed aloof to Mr. Darcy, which was rather gratifying.
When dinner was announced, Mr. Tilney bid his sixteen guests to sit where they liked at the long and minimally adorned table. Miss Morland made haste in claiming a seat near their host, and caught Elizabeth by the hand, begging her to sit beside her as well. Sir Edward sat on Elizabeth’s other side, and Mr. Darcy took the seat across from her. Elizabeth internally groaned. Could the man not attempt to make some new acquaintance here, and leave her be?
The first course was served, and while Mr. Tilney chattered politely with Lady Allen about the fine quality of her muslin gown, Elizabeth could scarcely converse with Miss Morland amidst the queer feeling of being stared at by Mr. Darcy. Determined to provoke him, she said to her new friend, “You have the advantage over me in being introduced to everyone, Miss Morland. My uncle and I were the last to come down to the parlor. And poor Mr. Darcy, despite the advantage of introductions, is feeling equally adrift among strangers.”
Mr. Darcy colored. “I have not that talent which some possess, in recommending myself easily to strangers.”
“I daresay we are all strangers,” Elizabeth mused, peering curiously down the table. Only a few of the guests appeared to be acquainted with one another, for the conversation was as stilted as it had been in the drawing room.
Miss Morland eagerly applied to Henry Tilney for the names of the other guests, which she had already forgotten. He obliged with a wry smile.
“The lady in white, on Mr. Darcy’s other side, is Miss Woodhouse, lately out of mourning for her father. Beside her, the young lady who rather resembles you, Miss Morland, is Miss Woodhouse’s devoted companion Miss Smith, and across from Miss Smith, the woman in the scarlet silk is Lady Susan Vernon, Miss Woodhouse’s aunt. The preening dandy in the mustard seed waistcoat is Sir Walter Elliot, and beside him, his nephew Mr. Willoughby. The fellow in the green coat is Mr. Henry Crawford, and beside him is the new Mrs. Rushworth. Her husband sits across from her, that fellow in the plum waistcoat, looking uncommonly bewildered, and beside him is his wife’s brother Tom Bertram. At the end of the table, the lady with the peacock feather in her hair is Miss Esther Denham, an heiress who just inherited a grand fortune, and across from her, Mr. Sidney Parker, who appears well aware of hercharms, all thirty thousand of them.”
Elizabeth smiled politely. “I am sure I shall remember all that once we have been properly introduced.”
“I apologize for my poor manners. I meant to perform my duty, but just before dinner was called, I received some rather vexing news,” Mr. Tilney said.
Miss Morland was effusive in her concern, but Mr. Tilney gave her an enigmatic smile. “I believe I must make the best of it. Indeed, I daresay it is high time I share that news with the present company, for we shall all be affected.” He stood, and called them all to attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am sure you all must feel some trepidation in accepting my invitation, despite the inducements promised. Some of you may have heard that I expected threeadditional guests to arrive tomorrow – my father the general, and Princess Elizabeth and Prince Edward. I have just received word from the royals that they shall be delayed a day or two, though my father is still expected tomorrow afternoon. As you may imagine, this presents some difficulty for me in delivering what was promised to you.”
The older man Elizabeth believed was called Sir Walter ceased flirting with the young lady at his side and set his fork down heavily. “You mean that General Tilney is coming here, and the royals are not?”
“As I said, they shall be delayed. It is not ideal, but….”
“But the general will surely suspect aught amiss with your choice of guests,” the young Mrs. Rushworth cried.
“Are we to hide in our rooms until the royals serve out justice,” the alluring woman in red scoffed. “Or have you tricked us?”
Miss Morland looked imploringly at Mr. Tilney. “Whatever can they mean?”
Elizabeth had finally had enough of all the mystery. “You might as well speak plainly, Mr. Tilney, for those of us who have no idea to what you refer.”
Mr. Tilney nodded. “There is no trick. You have all been summoned here because my father, who has worked for many years as a spy master for the Crown, has occupied himself most deviously in collecting not only state secrets, but malicious and damning information of a more personal nature, and has exploited it for his own gain. As I wrote to you all in the letters I sent last month, I mean to expose him for his many crimes against the Crown. Now that I am no longer dependent on my father, I am at liberty to put an end to his extortion. I have always meant to do so, since learning of his abuses, which go farbeyond what you may realize. Of course, it will not do for him to arrive and discover a dozen of his victims all assembled before we can expose him to the prince and princess, and be sure of his silence when he is brought to justice. I believe a great many of you have not deserved to pay the steep price of his discretion, and I am sure that my royal guests will agree, when they finally arrive.”
“And what are we to do until then,” demanded Sir Edward, and Elizabeth’s heart sank. Her uncle was being blackmailed, and she was sure that it had something to do with her presence here.
“Lady Susan may have had a fine notion, in suggesting you keep to your rooms tomorrow,” Mr. Tilney said with a sigh. “I shall speak to him when he arrives, and get rid of him somehow. I shall send him to Northanger to retrieve my sister, perhaps; that will buy us a few days.”
“And in the meantime? I did not leave Bath to socialize with strangers of dubious quality in some remote backwater,” Sir Walter whined.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself as much as ever,” Lady Susan chided him. “Cannot your pursuit of a bride to give you a son wait a few days?”
The young lady who sat beside Sir Walter looked alarmed, and scooted her chair a little nearer to Miss Woodhouse, who sneered at the gentleman.
