Page 18 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

Elizabeth had wrung a small confession from Mr. Darcy, and he was easier with her uncle and aunt than she would have expected, but even so, no one could call the man gregarious.

Fortunately, Mr. Bingley occupied the remaining eight or nine minutes of the visit very nearly single-handedly. He had lately attended an exhibition, he told them. He had also seen a remarkable horse at Tattersall’s and was invited to Leicestershire for Twelfth Night, but could not yet say whether he would go. This last was said with a glance at Jane.

Elizabeth chanced to look at Mr. Darcy once during the length of Mr. Bingley’s conversation only to find him looking at her with the same dark steadiness. He turned his gaze back to his friend at once, leaving Elizabeth to wonder what he had meant by it.

The clock upon the mantel struck the half hour. Mr. Bingley glanced at his friend, and Mr. Darcy rose at once.

“We have stayed beyond our welcome,” he said.

“On the contrary,” Aunt Gardiner returned, rising with him. “We are very sorry to lose you so soon. You must both come again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner. I am much obliged,” Mr. Darcy said, and Elizabeth gave him credit, for there was some warmth in his tone.

Mr. Bingley said his goodbyes, holding Jane’s hand carefully in his own before bowing over it. Jane’s colour rose to a delicate pink. Mr. Bingley did not need to say he had missed her. He had only to look at her.

Elizabeth was in good charity with Mr. Bingley again, now that he had come to visit her sister.

Uncle Gardiner cleared his throat softly, and Mr. Bingley stepped back. Mr. Darcy, beside him, bowed to the room.

“Mrs. Gardiner. Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth. Sir. Good day to you.”

He moved swiftly towards the door. Mr. Bingley followed, his hat still hanging from his fingers.

Elizabeth drew a breath and blew it out. Mr. Darcy was such a curious man. If he had come to support his friend, she could almost admire the loyalty of it, and he had very nearly admitted that their hasty removal from Netherfield was not properly done. He had even spoken engagingly to her aunt and uncle about Derbyshire.

It was only with Elizabeth that conversation seemed a burden to him. She knew he did not care for her, but the reason for his initial dislike still confounded her. What could she possibly have done?

“Well,” Aunt Gardiner said pleasantly, “Mr. Darcy is a reticent man.”

Uncle Gardiner laughed. “Which explains his attachment to Mr. Bingley, who appears quite prepared to conduct conversation for the entire company.”

Aunt Gardiner turned her gaze to Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy looked at you a great deal, Lizzy.”

Charlotte had said the same at Lucas Lodge, but Elizabeth could not credit it any more now than she had then.

“Perhaps he was unhappy to find me here.”

“He did not seem to be looking at you unkindly.”

“I do not know what he was about, Aunt. He has not given me much occasion to read his looks with any confidence, unless it is to be certain that he does not like me.”

Aunt Gardiner waited. Uncle Gardiner’s brows pinched together. The conversation was certainly about to move onto ground he had not been expecting.

“It will not do me any credit in your estimation,” Elizabeth said at last, “but Mr. Darcy and I were not friends in Hertfordshire. He gave me cause to dislike him on at least two occasions before he quit Netherfield without him or any of his party taking leave of their neighbours.” She paused to glance at her uncle. “Though he did offer a kind of apology for that just now.”

Jane could be reasonably relied upon to soften any such account, and predictably, she did. “It was not so dreadful as it sounds, Aunt. The first was at the Meryton assembly, when he had only just come into the country. The second was at the Netherfield ball.”

“What was the first?”

“He was urged by Mr. Bingley to dance,” Elizabeth said, “and refused.”

“That does not sound so bad,” Uncle Gardiner said.

Elizabeth hesitated, but thought she must explain more fully. “Mr. Bingley offered to introduce him to me, and Mr. Darcy replied that I was ‘tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt him.’” She felt her own cheeks beginning to warm at the memory of it.

“How did you hear this?” her aunt inquired.

“I was sitting within hearing, and before you chastise me for eavesdropping, I was there first. They moved into my hearing, I did not move into theirs. Mr. Darcy even met my gaze before turning to Mr. Bingley and saying . . . what he said.”