“I don’t know how to stop being afraid.”
“No one does, my dear. We simply learn to be afraid and brave at the same time.” She kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. “Now, go find your cousins and get that piece of cake, and send Jane out with the dog. I suspect Nettle might need some air and a rosebush to growl at.”
Elizabeth managed a watery smile. “I love you, Aunt. And Uncle. I will try to be brave.”
“You already are. The first step is admitting your feelings. Now, go get Jane.”
Elizabeth’s step felt lighter as she hurried back to the house, although the weight of her mistakes pressed harder with every stride. Self-awareness was a bitter pill. But perhaps bitterness, like the waters of Marah, would turn sweet if she could learn to call out for help and then trust the answer.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A GENTLEMAN’S DUTY
Darcy had barely butteredhis bread when his sister shared news over her toast.
“Did you know Mary and her sisters visited their aunt and uncle in Cheapside?”
He was aware, of course. They had even taken the dog, but he kept the butter knife moving steadily while waiting for what she evidently believed was interesting news.
“They had a very pleasant time, indeed.” His sister sounded wistful, no doubt, because she would have wished to accompany them. “Their little cousins, lemon cakes, and walks in the garden. The only excitement, according to Mary, was a very inopportune gentleman.”
“Who?”
“Why, I believe it was that baronet, Sir Geoffrey Hale.” Georgiana, oblivious to the detonation behind Darcy’s ribs, continued, “He claimed he was passing on Lombard Street, saw Elizabeth’s barouche, and stopped to pay his respects.”
Darcy set his knife down, suppressing an undignified snort. A carriage traveling from Mayfair to Cheapside did not pass through Lombard Street, a den of moneylenders and their ilk. Sir Geoffrey had likely delegated a watcher to track Elizabeth’smovements, waiting for her to enter a neighborhood without his protection.
“And what transpired?” Darcy asked.
“Mary said Mr. Gardiner was marvelous,” Georgiana forked a piece of bacon, which conveniently slipped off her plate in the waiting jaws of Elizabeth’s dog, Nettle, who had crossed the garden early in the morning—no doubt seeking scraps and a partner to play catch with. “He sent Sir Geoffrey away when the gentleman brought Elizabeth a book of poetry. It was refused because it was improper.”
“That was correct.”
“Except he left it on the side table, Mary said, and she was curious, but did not dare to unwrap it. Mary said Alice—that is the eldest Gardiner child, she draws pianos from underneath, she is very clever—Alice said it was unkind to choose a book for someone without asking what they wanted to read, and then Mary laughed, and apparently it was the best part of the visit.”
“Indeed.” Darcy would not have called this intrusion the best part of anything. Sir Geoffrey’s Sussex estates were mortgaged to the chimneys, his father’s debts a legacy no competent heir could clear. Lombard Street meant moneylenders, not gentlemen. And a book of poetry? In courtship, that was one step short of a proposal.
“Georgiana,” Darcy said, “did Mary mention whether Sir Geoffrey made any further arrangements to call?”
“Why yes, he requested dances for the upcoming ball, but Mr. Gardiner refused him—said he must apply to Miss Elizabeth’s guardian.” Georgiana arched an eyebrow at him. “Which, according to Mary, is you. I had no idea your trustee duties included policing dance cards.”
“Lady Sophia has made me her deputy for Miss Elizabeth’s social calls.” Darcy hoped the sudden heat in his cheeks did not betray him.
“Yes, and Sir Geoffrey Hale thought it was laughable that a single man such as yourself should be given such a position. Elizabeth, however, reassured her aunt that you were merely fulfilling your noble duty as Lady Sophia’s proxy. She seemed to see no conflict in your role.”
“There is none, dear sister. Lady Sophia inherently trusts my judgment. I have nothing but the utmost respect for Miss Elizabeth and the best interests for her prospects.”
“Then tell me, dear brother, would you be approving Sir Geoffrey’s request for the supper dance? He believes Elizabeth to be intelligent and of great literary merit.”
“I’m sure he does, but no, he will not cut in front of other more worthwhile gentlemen.” Darcy pushed from the table. “I believe Lady Sophia requests my presence to review the stack of cards.”
“Mary says it has grown to quite a tower. I do wonder,” Georgiana paused to take a sip of tea, “whether your opinion of Miss Elizabeth has quite changed from barely tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt you.”
Darcy practically dropped his fork. “Where have you heard this?”
Georgiana only smiled. “Do you forget I am friends with Miss Elizabeth’s sisters? I have informed them you are eminently just in the adjudication of dance card placements precisely because you have no interest in Elizabeth’s romantic prospects.”
She gave him a sidelong glance before dropping a boiled egg near Nettle’s chomping jaws. Darcy’s cravat tightened, choking him with its rigid starched constraints. Of course, he would be just and fair. He was, after all, the only single gentleman in London with no prospects—at least in Miss Elizabeth’s estimation. She had made it clear during the tortured twenty minutes of her most eloquent refusal.Last man in the world.
