“I suppose so.”
“Yet you frown. What is it, Jane?”
“I do not know. I just feel that something is not right at home.”
“Perhaps you are just feeling homesick, my dear. It would not be surprising; you have never been away from Longbourn for such an extended period of time before.”
“Yes, that is likely it. Thank you, Aunt; you have relieved my mind considerably.”
“And is your young man not coming to carry us off to another art exhibition shortly?” Aunt Madeleine’seyes twinkled.
“Oh! Yes; I had better go and change at once!” Jane left the room and ran upstairs, her misgivings now allayed.
Mr. Stanford had made it his personal mission to educate Jane on his favourite subject of art. Jane could not say that she would ever become an expert on the subject, but it was certainly no hardship to be escorted about London in an elegant carriage with a handsome and kind gentleman.
But she knew she was not in love with him. She and Lizzy had spoken for hours, late at night, under their covers, about the unmistakable signs of true love. Faster heartbeat, blushing upon hearing his name, tingling in the fingertips…she had none of these symptoms.
She suspected it was because she was not yet certain of him. That he liked her was not in doubt, but he did not know all there was to know about her. He knew that she had relatives in trade and appeared to have no objections to that. He knew that her father owned a small and insignificant estate, and he appeared to have no objection to that, either.
But he didnotknow that she had no dowry at all, and that might be enough to put him off her entirely. Should she tell him?
What would Mama say? Of course, Mama would advise her to say nothing until she was certain of him. That was likely good advice.
Chapter Fifteen
Mr. Darcy had left Pemberley with the intention of stopping for one night in London before going on to Netherfield Park in Hertfordshire. Georgiana had chosen to remain behind at Pemberley.
His sister was doing well after her terrible experience at Ramsgate. It had helped that Richard had immediately put the cause of that experience on a ship bound for the Americas, and Mrs. Younge had disappeared into the stews of London. She need never see either of them again.
Georgiana had had several difficult weeks, blaming herself for her poor choices, but her new companion, Mrs. Annesley, had done a good deal to steady Georgiana and help her return to her usual cheerful self.
Upon arriving at Matlock house, he informed his Aunt Eleanor that he would be off to Hertfordshire the following day.
But his Aunt Eleanor was having none of it. “You must not dash off, Darcy,” she informed him. “I have several young ladies in mind for you, and I will not allow you to leave until you have met them all. No, you need not scowl at me. I have known you since you were in clouts, and am not in the least intimidated by you.”
“Aunt, I have promised Bingley, and I am already quite behind my time.”
“If he has waited this long, he will wait another week,” she replied, imperturbably. “Stay here with us; there is surely no need to open Darcy House for so short a time.”
He argued, “Aunt, why do you not work your matchmaking wiles on Reginald? Does not the Earl’s heir need to set up his nursery first? He is older than I am, and still unmarried.”
“Do you not think I have tried?” the Countess exclaimed. “You know how hopeless he is at social events. I fear that he might never marry, and the earldom will rest on Richard’s shoulders; which would not be so dreadful, were he not in constant danger on the Continent. In any case, you are here, and Reginald is at the Matlock Estate, where he makes his home, and so there we are.”
Mr. Darcy ground his teeth, but he knew full well that she would not be happy until she had introduced him to this new set of young ladies. He also knew, equally well, that it was time for him to consider a wife. His heir, at this point, was a distant cousin with no estate management experience whatsoever, and that was an unacceptable situation. He sighed.
Knowing that she had won, the Countess of Matlock permitted herself a small smile. “We will start at dinner tonight, Darcy. Miss Carmichael will be in attendance.
***
Miss Carmichael turned out to be a tall blonde, with large blue eyes and a cloud of blond hair. She was pretty, of course, though more Bingley’s taste than his own. He was seated beside her at dinner, as he had expected, and he did his duty as a gentleman, ensuring that she had the food and drink she preferred. She spoke little, beyond asking for more fish.
After dinner, she entertained them at the pianoforte. Her playing was adequate, but when she opened her mouth to sing, he had to stop himself from wincing. But he chided himself;a good singing voice was hardly required to be mistress of Pemberley.
Intelligence was, however, as was good character; he had not been able to determine if Miss Carmichael possessed either attribute.
He made it a point to sit beside her when she returned from the piano. “Thank you for playing for us, Miss Carmichael,” he began.
She looked at him, blinking those large blue eyes. “It was my pleasure, Mr. Darcy,” she whispered.
