Page 79 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

“I always do,” George said. He looked at Darcy, his easy smile still in place, but with something more thoughtful beneath.

Three weeks. He might have apologised tonight had Miss Elizabeth been in any condition to hear it. But she had not been. He could not wait much longer, though, for he was running out of time.

CHAPTER 20

It had been a week since the party at Darcy House. Mr. Aldridge had called at Gracechurch Street twice. He came at the proper time, stayed a quarter of an hour, then a half an hour, and was easy with her uncle in a manner few of Lady Anne’s gentlemen could have managed.

He spoke to Aunt Gardiner about Derbyshire wool, to Jane about medicinal gardens, and to Elizabeth about Fielding. When he rose to go, he bowed over her aunt’s hand first, which her aunt appreciated. On the second call he had left a book—not for Elizabeth, for her uncle—a treatise on canal shares her uncle had mentioned once, in passing, at Lady Anne’s party.

It was expertly done.

Mr. Aldridge was intelligent, kind, and patient. But Elizabeth found her thoughts wandering to the man who had stepped in to help her escape a difficult situation.

Over the course of their acquaintance, Mr. Darcy had insulted her, avoided her, and watched her in silence. He had also complimented her and walked with her. He had revealed a sense of humour she had not known he possessed. And he had somehow appeared at precisely the moment she had most needed assistance. Elizabeth did not, as a rule, appreciate being commanded. But she had been happy to have Mr. Darcy take command of that situation.

So she was grateful to Mr. Darcy, but gratitude alone could not explain what she had felt when she turned and saw him approaching. It had been relief, swift and deep. But there had been another sentiment, one she could not quite identify.

She tried to pay attention to what was happening before her and was pleased to see that Jane was speaking quietly with Mr. Aldridge. As for her, there was nothing to be done with such confused feelings until she saw Mr. Darcy again, and so she must bide her time and be patient.

Tuesday took her uncle into Mayfair on business, and, as usual, he left them at the park. It was a raw, bright morning, and the paths were nearly empty. Jane had not come today, for she found the cold trying and preferred to remain indoors. But she begged Elizabeth and Aunt Gardiner not to stay with her, knowing how they prized these mornings.

“I will keep to the house with my workbasket and the children,” she had said, “and be perfectly content.”

Elizabeth took in a breath of frosty air. She did enjoy walking in here, for it was the closest she could come to a walk at home while still in London.

Aunt Gardiner had just said, “My dear, about Jane—” when Elizabeth’s eyes went to a bend in the path where Mr. Darcy had just appeared.

Elizabeth did not start. She only adjusted the ribbon of her bonnet, though it needed no adjustment, and looked down at the path until he had come near enough to bow. It was Tuesday, after all. On Tuesdays, Mr. Darcy took exercise in this direction. On Tuesdays, he had business that brought him to the south walk at precisely the hour when she and her aunt were often to be found here.

Elizabeth had noticed the coincidence, and while she did not understand it, she was beginning to count upon it.

Mr. Darcy bowed. “Mrs. Gardiner. Miss Elizabeth.”

“Mr. Darcy.” Aunt Gardiner drew her shawl closer. “You find us very determined today, I am afraid. Though I cannot say the weather rewards us for it.”

“It is a sharp morning,” he said.

“Sharp is a generous word.” She looked towards the open stretch of path ahead.

“Lizzy, my dear, I believe I shall sit a moment on the bench here. The view is quite pretty from there, and with the trees on either side, it may be better sheltered from the wind.”

Elizabeth glanced at her. “Shall I come sit with you?”

“No, no. You were enjoying the walk. Pray go on a little further.” Her aunt moved towards the bench beneath the beeches. “Mr. Darcy, you will not let her be blown into the Serpentine, I trust?”

“I shall do my best to prevent it.”

“A very proper answer.” Aunt Gardiner sat, tucked her shawl about her, and looked out across the grounds. “There. I am perfectly content.”

Elizabeth remained where she was for a moment. “You are certain?”

“Quite.” Her aunt’s eyes flicked briefly from Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy, then back to the view. “Pray take your walk. I can see you all the way down the path from here if you turn back before the path curves into the trees.”

There was nothing to answer to that. Elizabeth returned to the path, and Mr. Darcy walked beside her.

They had gone only a little way beyond the bench when Elizabeth said, “I have not yet thanked you.”

Mr. Darcy looked at her. “For what?”