Page 8 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

“I am relieved to hear it,” Elizabeth returned. “For if it were, I should be quite exhausted.”

“You may yet be,” said her aunt, with a look of mock consideration. “London is a larger matrimonial field than Hertfordshire.”

“And you, sir,” Elizabeth said, turning to her uncle, “what is your part in this sporting enterprise?”

“I cannot tell you, other than this: our rules include no interference with the principal parties and no disclosure of terms.”

“None at all?” she pressed.

“None that would spoil the amusement,” he said firmly. “You must allow us that much.”

Elizabeth regarded him with narrowed eyes. “Then I shall conclude that your wager concerns me very nearly and shall resolve to behave in the most unaccommodating manner possible.”

“My dear Lizzy,” said Aunt Gardiner, “that would be to play directly into one of our hands.”

Jane laughed again, and her uncle turned to her with a softer expression.

“And you, my dear?” he said. “We hear less of your refusals, which may mean either that you have had fewer opportunities, or that you have been better able to avoid unwanted offers.”

Jane coloured slightly. “It means only that I have not yet enough information to arrive at a conclusion.”

“A very sensible answer,” he said. “And a wiser approach than most. First impressions are not always accurate.”

Jane glanced at Elizabeth.

Aunt Gardiner nodded. “You are quite right to wish to know a gentleman better before you decide anything of consequence. He will bear a little scrutiny if he is worth your regard.”

Jane’s expression did not change, but something in it seemed to settle. “That is exactly what I think.”

Uncle Gardiner smiled at his wife. “Come,” he said. “We have conspired enough in the entryway. Let us have you upstairs so you may refresh yourselves before your aunt devises any additional stratagems.”

“An excellent idea,” said Aunt Gardiner briskly, reclaiming them both. “For once I begin, I shall not stop—and you, Lizzy, would certainly lose.”

“I am already at a disadvantage,” Elizabeth said, allowing herself to be drawn along. “For you refuse to tell me the rules of your game.”

“Precisely,” said her uncle. “And we mean to keep it so.”

Aunt Gardiner took their cloaks and handed them off to the maid, and in a very short while Elizabeth and Jane were upstairs in their shared sitting room with a basin of hot water and the promise of tea when they came down.

The door closed. For a moment neither of them moved.

Then Jane drew a long quiet breath and smiled, one of those unguarded, luminous smiles that she only displayed in private. “How very good it is to be here.”

“Infinitely better than Hertfordshire at present,” Elizabeth returned. “And decidedly safer from Mamma.”

Jane laughed and began to remove her gloves.

Elizabeth crossed to the window and looked down into the street to assure herself that they were truly here. “A tally, Jane. Did you ever hear of such a thing?”

“Our aunt means only to divert herself. She has four small children and must be in need of the amusement.” Jane’s cheeks pinked. “And you must allow that Mamma’s accounts were undoubtedly exaggerated.”

“I shall allow no such thing. Even if it is certainly true.”

Jane took Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed it. “I am so happy to be here, Lizzy. Thank you for mentioning to Mamma that I ought to accompany you.”

“You are welcome. A banishment feels very different when you are allowed to take your favourite sister with you.”

As Jane poured the hot water into the basin and washed herself, Elizabeth dismissed her relations’ teasing. She was not in town to seek out another proposal, not at all. She was here only to help Jane see Mr. Bingley again, for she was sure he loved Jane.