Page 49 of Sweet on Mr Darcy

The butler, who received this answer nearly every time there were callers, remained stoically where he was.

“He claims that the visit is familial and urgent, madam.”

Lady Barry scowled. “Very well; admit them, so that we may be rid of them quickly. They will not stay here, Chambers. You will permit no luggage to enter the house. Send their trunks on to the Albion.”

“Very good, madam.”

Lady Barry turned to Elizabeth. “Do not look hospitable, nor even amiable. Mere civility encourages people like these.”

“As you say, Lady Barry,” Elizabeth promised.

Sir Rupert Barry entered first. Perhaps five-and-forty, a tall bear of a man. He was well dressed, and severely composed. Everything about him suggested order, gravity, and a lifelong distrust of happiness.

His sister, Miss Barry, followed close behind. She was sharp-featured, as severe as her brother, and her features implied that humanity disappointed her each day by breakfast.

Sir Rupert bowed. “Aunt.”

Belle jumped down from the sofa where Lady Barry reclined and hid behind Elizabeth’s skirts.

Lady Barry gave him a glance that could have curdled cream. “I am not your aunt, nor have I ever been. You will address me properly.”

“I apologise, Lady Barry,” he amended. “It is good to see you looking so well.”

“You were not invited.” Lady Barry was grim. “Nor did you send word of your visit. I could have saved you the trip by informing you that you are unnecessary.”

“But we were in the neighborhood,” he said, unconcerned by her displeasure.

“You were in Kent. All the way from Derbyshire?”

Elizabeth had to lower her eyes to hide a smile.

Lady Barry gestured. “You may be seated. Briefly.”

Introductions were made, and the butler returned with a fresh pot of tea and more cups, but no cakes or other refreshment. At Lady Barry’s instruction, Chambers served, then withdrew.

Sir Rupert turned to Elizabeth with an interested expression. “Miss Bennet. I have heard a great deal about you.”

“I cannot imagine why. I doubt we have any common acquaintance besides Lady Barry.” Elizabeth’s tone was frosty.

A flicker of amusement crossed his countenance, though perhaps he had not intended to reveal it. “On the contrary. Your reputation is heard all about Ramsgate. Even as far as London.”

He sipped his tea and regarded her with an interest similar to that displayed by Mr Collins. Elizabeth felt ill as he observed her.

“How do you like Ramsgate, Miss Bennet? Is the sea to your liking?”

Elizabeth loathed him instantly. He was too calculated. Too intent.

Sir Rupert leaned slightly forward. “I confess myself fortunate in arriving while you are here.”

Elizabeth did not smile. “How curious.”

“I understand you are a frequent visitor of Lady Barry’s.” He regarded her as a predator that sizes up its prey.

Lady Barry replied. “She reads tolerably well and is therefore useful.”

Sir Rupert nodded as though this confirmed some great question. “I see.”

Elizabeth could practically hear the calculations in his head. The reason for his appearance unveiled itself at once with such clarity she nearly gagged.