Page 50 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

Miss Darcy’s relief was immediate and lovely.

“Then it is settled,” Lady Anne said. “Georgiana shall send round a note in the morning.”

Elizabeth curtsied. As they left the music room, Uncle Gardiner fell into step behind them and said, very softly to his wife, “I believe the odds have altered.”

Aunt Gardiner replied, just as softly, “Not altered, my dear. Clarified.”

“I can hear you,” Elizabeth reminded them.

Her uncle looked all innocence. “Then you must endeavour to hear less, Lizzy. It is the only way to preserve your peace.”

There would be no peace tonight, Elizabeth thought as they gathered Jane and moved towards the stairs. Her aunt and uncle were laying wagers on matters to do with her that they would not disclose. Miss Darcy now smiled at her as though they were already friends. And Mr. Darcy had looked at her, more than once, in a way she could neither forget nor explain.

CHAPTER 13

By eight o’clock Darcy had his coat on, his hat in his hand, and one foot out his front door. He was very nearly safe.

“You are going out,” said his mother from the foot of the stairs.

Darcy closed his eyes. He had been so close. He turned to address her. “I am,” he said. “I have business with my saddler.”

“Before you go . . .” His mother descended the last two steps and regarded him with some scepticism. “I hope you will be at home on Thursday. The Finches are in town this week, and Lady Finch has written that she means to call.”

His mother had not mentioned the daughter. But there was always a daughter. “You do not require me for such a call.”

“Fitzwilliam,” she said with a little sigh. “Do not be tiresome.”

He set his hat down on the table. “I am endeavouring to be useful. If you and Lady Finch wish to speak of the chairs she has ordered for her new home in Berkeley Square, I can add nothing to the subject.” He had no idea whether Lady Finch had ordered new chairs, but she did seem to be in a constant state of refurbishing something or other.

“She may not speak only of chairs.”

“Curtains?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

His mother lifted her own.

“Carpets?” he suggested.

His mother frowned, apparently not appreciative of his teasing. “Her daughter is with her.”

“Ah,” said Darcy. “A call, then, only in its broadest sense.”

His mother came down the remaining step and drew her shawl more closely about her shoulders, though the hall was not cold. “Miss Finch is a very accomplished young woman.”

“I am sure she is.”

“She plays.”

“Most young women play.”

“She sings.”

“Most young women are said to.”

“She has a pleasing temper.”

“That is always what is reported before an introduction but is often not the case at all.”

“She has thirty thousand pounds.”