Page 74 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

Somewhere between Sunday and this evening, his mother’s promise of “No more than twenty guests, Fitzwilliam,” had become the better part of eighty. Darcy had long ago stopped protesting when she did such things, because over time, he had learned that her reasons were generally for the benefit of someone else.

“There must be three hundred candles burning in this house, Mother,” he had said at seven as he watched the second Matlock footman go by.

“Wax is cheap this winter.”

“Wax is never cheap. This is at least fifteen pounds worth.”

His mother waved one hand. “Martin Whish owed me a favour, for I matched his daughter with her husband. Go and dress, Fitzwilliam.”

Martin Whish was one of the chairmen of His Majesty’s Excise. Darcy shook his head. If his mother had some sort of arrangement where she was not paying the tax, it was best he know nothing of it.

He found Georgiana on the stairs at half past seven, dressed and anxious.

“You need not stay past supper unless you wish,” he told her.

“Mother said the same. She warned me there would be more people at this party, but there are so many of them.”

“There are. Most of them will be very dull, and none of them will be watching you. They come to watch each other.”

“Will Miss Elizabeth be here?”

“Yes.”

He had informed his mother that Bingley was leaving town and why. She had replied that while Mr. Bingley would always be invited to her evenings, the Bennet ladies and the Gardiners would be as well.

“Then I shall manage,” said Georgiana, which saved him the trouble of saying the same thing. “It will be worth it to see her and Miss Bennet.”

He straightened the shawl at her elbow although it was not in need of it. “If it becomes too much, stand by the camellias, and one of us will find you.”

His mother swept past them. “Mr. Aldridge will be here tonight,” she said.

Darcy had been grateful that he would be able to see Miss Elizabeth again until this moment. His mother was introducing Mr. Aldridge and Miss Elizabeth tonight, and though he knew Mr. Aldridge only as an acquaintance, his reputation was that of an intelligent, steady man. Could he hope that Miss Elizabeth would like him, that she would have a pleasant evening, and yet not like him too well?

The Gardiner party was announced at eight. Darcy heard the names from across the room and forced himself not to turn at once, for he could not appear eager to see her before all these people. Miss Elizabeth would not appreciate it.

When he did turn, Miss Elizabeth was laughing at something her uncle had said. Darcy had not heard the joke, but he heard the laugh, because every other sound in the room seemed at once to grow less distinct.

The house was full, voices rising and falling all around him, and still it was as if she was the only person in the room. Darcy reminded himself that she was meant for another, that she had shown no interest in him at all, that she was only recently beginning not to hate him. He had prepared for this evening by rehearsing civility and polite indifference, and before this moment he had believed himself capable of both.

Then she lifted her head, her eyes found his, and he knew. Impossible.

She looked at him, her countenance still bright with laughter, her cheeks pink from the cold outside. He felt impelled to cross the room too quickly, to take her hand, to ask whether she was glad to be there, whether his mother’s invitation after what had passed between Bingley and her sister had brought her even a small portion of the relief it had brought him.

Instead, he approached her party at a sedate pace and then bowed.

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Mr. Gardiner was in his usual good humour. Miss Bennet stood beside them, appearing subdued, Darcy thought, yet not diminished.

“Good evening,” he said. “My mother will be very pleased you have come.”

“We are very pleased to have been asked,” Mrs. Gardiner replied, and he knew she meant more than she was saying.

“We were promised a small party, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth said.

“Yes,” he said drily. “That was my understanding as well.”

She hid a smile. “How many does your mother expect?”

“Enough that I shall not be able to speak with all the people I had hoped to.”