Susie tied the ribbon and stepped back. “There. You look very well, miss.”
Elizabeth did notfeelvery well.
Once Susie left to attend Jane, Elizabeth stood alone for several moments, staring at her own reflection without truly seeing it. Mr. Darcy might remember her through Susie. He might hear from his valet that a maid at Longbourn had once served in Gracechurch Street. His servants might talk to Netherfield’s servants, Netherfield’s servants to Meryton, Meryton to Mrs. Bennet, and Mrs. Bennet to the world. Secrets, she had learned, were not usually destroyed by enemies. They were destroyed by friendly people speaking carelessly in warm kitchens.
She could not approach Mr. Darcy herself.
The very notion was impossible. What would she say?
Sir, you may recall that two years ago I emerged from a cellar covered in mud and accidentally became an heiress. Pray do not mention it in company.
Besides, after his words at the assembly, she could not bear to ask anything of him. He might be honorable, but honor did not always make a man kind. And if he thought so little of her when he believed her poor, how would he behave if he discovered she was not?
She did not think her equanimity could withstand seeing him flatter her falsely and prove to be even less of the man she had always imagined him to be.
She could not tell her father. He knew nothing of the details and had never been burdened by the part of knowledge that required action. He would either make light of it or tease Mama until the whole house shook with speculation. Nor could she tell Jane everything, not yet. Jane would be gentle and trustworthy, but she would also look at Elizabeth with compassion, and Elizabeth did not feel strong enough to endure it.
No one knew enough to help… except one: Mr. Philips.
The thought steadied her almost immediately. Her uncle had not attended the assembly two evenings prior, having been called to a nearby village to assist with the will of an elderly farmer who had changed his mind three times about which nephew deserved the cow and once about whether a daughter-in-law could be left only the churn. Mr. Philips did not yet know Mr. Darcy had arrived. He did not know there was now a gentleman in the neighborhood who could connect Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn to the discovery at Gracechurch Street.
And Mr. Philips, being a man, could call upon Mr. Darcy without impropriety.
A quarter hour later, Elizabeth had obtained permission to walk into Meryton on the perfectly true excuse of visiting her aunt, though she had no intention of lingering under Mrs.Philips’s cheerful curiosity longer than necessary. The morning was cool and bright, the road still damp in shaded places, and the hedgerows full of late-summer green beginning to yellow at the edges. Usually such a walk would have cleared her spirits. Today, she moved quickly, rehearsing what she would say and discarding every version as either too dramatic or not urgent enough.
Mr. Philips was in his office when she arrived, his clerk looking up with visible relief when Elizabeth asked whether he might be disturbed.
“He is with no one, miss, only papers,” the clerk said. “And papers never mind being interrupted.”
Mr. Philips looked up from his desk as she entered. “Lizzy. This is unexpected.”
“I am sorry to disturb you, Uncle.”
“You do not look like someone bringing an idle disturbance. Sit down.”
She sat, folded her gloved hands in her lap, and told him everything: Mr. Bingley’s arrival, Mr. Darcy’s presence in the party, the assembly, the fact that he had not seemed to recognize her, Susie’s intention to go to Netherfield on her next half-day, and the danger that talk among servants might bring the truth far too near disclosure.
Mr. Philips listened without interrupting, though his expression sharpened as she spoke.
When she finished, he leaned back in his chair and tapped one finger thoughtfully against the arm. “Mr. Darcy is in Hertfordshire.”
“Yes.”
“And staying at Netherfield.”
“Yes.”
“Of all houses.”
Elizabeth gave a weak smile. “Providence has an interesting sense of humor.”
“It has many things. Humor is not always the one I appreciate most.” He was silent a moment longer. “You say he did not recognize you?”
“No. At least, I do not think so. He looked at me as though I were any other young lady in the room.” Her cheeks warmed despite herself. “Perhaps with less approval than most.”
Mr. Philips’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing of consequence.”
