Page 55 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

Elizabeth glanced at Jane and found her colour returning. It made her like Mrs. Wickham even better, that she could speak sportively with her husband and Elizabeth but more gently when necessary.

They had by then drawn near enough to the others for Mrs. Wickham to catch the last of something her husband was saying to Aunt Gardiner. Whatever it was, it made her aunt laugh a little.

“You will forgive George,” Mrs. Wickham said fondly. “He spends his charms rather liberally, which sometimes alarms those who do not know him well. Most cannot believe a man would be so agreeable without intending to profit by it, but he never does. He has no need.” She smiled to herself. “I cannot blame them. It took me a year to believe it, for I am a suspicious woman by trade.”

What an interesting statement. “And what is your trade, Mrs. Wickham?” Elizabeth asked, smiling.

“Judging people,” she said simply. “I am uncommonly good at it, but the difficulty is that one never sees oneself half so clearly as one sees everybody else.”

“There is perhaps a lesson in that, Lizzy,” Jane said with no attempt to hide her amusement.

“I have no idea what you could mean,” she replied.

Jane only shook her head.

“Now,” said Mrs. Wickham, “Miss Elizabeth must tell me about Lady Anne’s interest in her, for the tales grow more elaborate each time I hear it.”

“There is very little to tell,” Elizabeth assured her. “Lady Anne merely asks what I read, whether I ride, how I spend my days, and what qualities I most admire in a gentleman.”

Mrs. Wickham laughed. “Only that and nothing more?”

“She has also discovered my opinions on town, the country, large families, quiet households, and the proper distance at which one ought to live from one’s mother.” Elizabeth was being ridiculous now and she knew it.

“And you have discouraged her?”

“With great firmness. I told her I had no intention of marrying this season.”

“Really?” Mrs. Wickham asked. “And what did she say to that?”

“That she had never known such an opinion to survive the right acquaintance,” Elizabeth admitted. Those had not been Lady Anne’s precise words, but it amounted to the same thing.

Both Jane and Mrs. Wickham laughed.

“I must warn you,” Mrs. Wickham said when she had done. “I said nearly the exact same thing the season she matched me with George.”

Elizabeth blinked.

Suddenly Mr. Wickham sang out, “Darcy! Fitzwilliam! I had no idea you meant to walk this morning.”

Greetings were exchanged. The colonel kissed Mrs. Wickham’s hand. “Em. You are blooming,” he said. “Matrimony continues to agree with you, despite your choice of a husband.”

“You should try the institution yourself, Colonel.”

The colonel chuckled. “I thank you for my part, madam, but I must decline. I have seen what it does to better men than me.”

“Yes. It improves them beyond recognition,” said Mr. Wickham, and beneath the jest Elizabeth heard something serious.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said when all the greetings were done. “I hope you are enjoying the park.”

“I am,” she replied with a small smile. “Do you often walk here?”

“Yes, I do. On Tuesdays, when the weather permits.”

Elizabeth paused at this oddly specific reply.

Mrs. Wickham and Jane walked ahead together while Mr. Wickham endeavoured to entertain them. Aunt Gardiner, meanwhile, was offered the colonel’s arm and invited to describe her impressions of Lambton.

The colonel, however, made some remark that drew them all off to one side,