Page 16 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

CHAPTER 4

They were speaking about Hyde Park when Robert interrupted them. “Mr. Bingley, ma’am.”

Elizabeth was rather surprised that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had finally informed their brother that Jane had called and more still that they had given him the Gardiners’ direction. Jane had written their names on one of Aunt Gardiner’s calling cards, but⁠—

“And”—Robert hesitated, searching his memory for the name—“Mr. Darcy.”

The needle Elizabeth had been threading slipped through her fingers and into the cushions.

Aunt Gardiner’s brows rose. “Show them in, Robert, and then tell Mr. Gardiner that he is wanted.”

Robert withdrew. Aunt Gardiner used the few moments they had to sweep the children’s toys into a basket which she then placed out of sight. Elizabeth used the time to retrieve her needle, which had hidden itself beneath a pillow. And Jane . . . Jane sat as still as a stone with two spots of colour in her cheeks, and managed to appear more beautiful than ever.

Elizabeth patted Jane’s hand once before the door opened. Then they both rose to join their aunt in greeting their guests.

Mr. Bingley came in first, hat in his hand, smiling as broadly as he had at his ball. His friend came in behind him.

Mr. Darcy’s eye fell upon Elizabeth. He did not stop, but he did hesitate. Briefly. It was so quick that another person might not have noticed.

He was startled, she thought. Perhaps he had not known she was here?

Whatever he was thinking, the expression that crossed his face seemed nearer to pain than to contempt. Then it was gone, and he came forward with Mr. Bingley to be introduced to her aunt.

He bowed to them all, a shallow, correct bow he might have given to a stranger upon being introduced in a public room.

“Mrs. Gardiner,” he said. “Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth.”

“Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy,” her aunt said warmly, just as she would when receiving a caller of long acquaintance. “You are both very welcome.”

The room had only just settled when the door opened again and Uncle Gardiner entered. He was introduced, then shook Mr. Bingley’s hand with a cordial firmness. “Mr. Bingley. We have heard so much of you that I confess I feel quite as though we had already met. And”—he turned, and the warmth in his face did not noticeably alter— “Mr. Darcy.”

Mr. Darcy bowed again. “Mr. Gardiner.”

Two words. Elizabeth, whose eyes had dropped to the carpet, looked up.

Her uncle, untroubled, gestured Mr. Darcy to the chair beside him, which placed Mr. Darcy directly across from her. Mr. Bingley took the chair beside Jane with a promptness that no one, however charitable, could have called accidental. Finally, Uncle Gardiner settled himself in his usual chair.

“I should mention, Mr. Darcy,” her uncle said, with the easy neutrality of a host taking up the burden of conversation, “that you do not come as a stranger into this house. My wife was raised in Lambton.”

“Lambton, sir?” Mr. Darcy’s head turned to her aunt. “But that is not five miles from Pemberley.”

“My wife was raised thereabouts. We make a journey thither as often as the business can spare me, which is, in candour, less often than I should like. It has been some years.”

For one extraordinary moment Elizabeth thought Mr. Darcy might smile, for there was the faintest movement at the corner of his mouth, gone before she could be certain she had seen it.

“It is very fine country, sir.”

“It is. We are great admirers of it, Mrs. Gardiner in particular, of course.”

Mr. Darcy spoke to her uncle, but his gaze flitted briefly to her. “The views are best seen by walking the paths, sir. The wildness of the Peak . . . well, the countryside thereabouts is exceptional. The paths nearest to Dovedale are among my favourites, apart from those on my own property.”

“I have heard a good deal about that from Mrs. Gardiner,” her uncle said, with sincere interest. “She speaks of Dovedale fondly and with some longing, I think.”

“Dovedale is worth the longing, sir.”

“Is it altered much, do you think, since my wife last walked it? We have been to Lambton, but it has been above ten years since we have seen Dovedale, for it was before we were wed.”

Mr. Darcy considered the question seriously. “The country itself does not alter much, of course, but the villages have grown a little and the lanes are improved in some places. The dales are as they ever were.”