Page 46 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

“My dear boy,” she said at last, all archness gone from her voice. “You so plainly require it.”

He had no answer that would satisfy her, and so he did not speak.

She rose, and as she passed him, she laid her hand against his sleeve. “Lady Euphemia is not a woman I would match you with. Her father is a Tory, though a moderate one, and she is too old for you. But basic civility is still required.”

“Yes,” he said. “I do agree with that.”

“I mean to persevere, Fitzwilliam, and I should be glad if you would maintain an open mind. I mean to have you settled by the end of this season.” She paused, and her voice gentled. “You were kinder to Miss Elizabeth this evening. I appreciate your desire to make things a little easier between you, for that is the behaviour of a gentleman.” She squeezed his hand. “Good night.”

“Good night, Mother.”

She went up, and the candle she carried took the last of the light with her.

CHAPTER 12

Mr. Charles Reed was a man of forty with three children, fifteen hundred a year, and the kindest blue eyes Elizabeth had yet encountered at Darcy House. He was telling her, with great patience and feeling, about his youngest child.

“Sophia was six just after Christmas. She knows her letters already, you understand, but she has formed the opinion that the alphabet ought to allow more than one p and is much aggrieved that it does not. Her sister Catherine has taken to writing her secret notes using as many of that letter as possible, because she wishes to be kind.”

He paused, smiled to himself, and resumed.

“Catherine is ten. Henry is eleven and has lately discovered that he is to go to Eton in the autumn, which has rendered him very grand in his own estimation. He has begun to address his sisters with great solemnity, even when he is asking them to pass the bread.” He smiled, a little embarrassed. “I do not mean to bore you with tales of my children, Miss Elizabeth.”

“You do not bore me, Mr. Reed.” And he did not.

Elizabeth liked Mr. Reed. He was sensible and well-spoken. He had not pressed her to tell him about her family. He had asked, instead, about her opinion of whether she thought the new Strand Bridge was an improvement or simply a way to make London more expensive.

He was kindness itself, but it was clear within the first quarter of an hour that anyone who agreed to become his wife must also agree to put herself last, for his children would always come first. Perhaps this was as it should be, but Elizabeth knew it would not be her preference.

Mr. Reed was momentarily distracted by Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. While they were speaking, Elizabeth heard a voice at her elbow. “Miss Eliza.”

She stifled a sigh. “Miss Bingley.”

“I am glad to see you in such excellent spirits. It must be difficult for you to spend so much time in London away from the militia. And your family, of course.”

“I fear I must disappoint you, Miss Bingley, for I am very happy here.”

Miss Bingley wrinkled her nose. “I am pleased you find yourself equal to it. Town is not always kind to those who are unused to its society.” Miss Bingley bestowed an insincere smile and moved on.

Mr. Reed, who had not entirely followed the exchange but had observed its tone, seemed to decide not to pry and resumed the story of his youngest child. Across the room, Mr. Bingley and Jane were conversing with three other couples.

Uncle Gardiner was at the card table with Lord Matlock. Lady Anne stood in the middle of the drawing room, occasionally moving people about without appearing to do anything at all. It was a rather interesting talent.

Mr. Darcy stood near the window. Colonel Fitzwilliam approached him, and the two men spoke for a minute.

Elizabeth did not care what they were about, and so she told herself not to observe them.

“Miss Elizabeth?”

She returned with no apparent delay. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Reed. You were saying?”

“Only that I had hoped my Henry would learn enough Greek at Eton to know the difference between an opinion and a fact. I am told the pupils do not always succeed in this.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Then I should think it must be the masters who fail in their object, Mr. Reed, rather than the boys.”

“That is a charitable interpretation.”

“My father says that a gentleman requires only enough Greek to dissuade people from asking about his Latin.”