Page 88 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

That was a simple question to answer. “Yes,” he said. “I am certain she will.”

Georgiana bounced a little as she walked. “I have put the Clementi away in case I am asked for something after. One does not follow a sonata with a sonatina.” She said it in a very good imitation of her mother’s voice and was gone before he could decide how he ought to respond.

Wickham came after dinner. As with Richard, Hewitt had given up announcing him years ago.

He appeared in the library doorway with his greatcoat still on, which meant he did not intend to stay. But then, Wickham never intended to stay.

“You will want the brandy,” Darcy said, half question, half statement.

“I will. I come bearing intelligence.” Wickham poured for them both and settled into the chair opposite as he had done a thousand times before.

“For me and not my mother?”

“For you. Aldridge has gone into the country. This morning, by the Bath road.”

Darcy’s hand froze above his book. “Men do leave town from time to time.”

“He says he shall be back by the end of the month.” Wickham drank. “Lord Matlock is out five guineas, by the way. So is Milton. They had him speaking before he left town.”

“So he did not?” He held his breath waiting for the answer.

“There are no signs of it.”

Wickham stretched his legs towards the fire. “Now the wager is that he will speak upon his return. Even Bingley has written from Yorkshire to take a stake. Em has disallowed it, on the grounds that a man ought to be in the room when he loses his money.” Wickham turned his glass by the stem. “Somebody at Boodles asked Aldridge whether his return was worth waiting for.” Wickham lifted his head to catch Darcy’s gaze. “Apparently, upon his return, he intends to make an offer of marriage.”

The fire crackled in the quiet.

“Miss Elizabeth knows her own mind,” Darcy said, feeling a little ill.

“No doubt,” Wickham said. He finished his drink and stood. “I know that you and I are very different sort of men, Darcy. I am well aware that Lady Anne and Em have kept me from running into ruin, and you do not require assistance of that sort. But being married to a good woman—I am grateful Em came with a fortune, I will not deny it, but knowing her as I do now? I would have married her even were she a pauper. I highly recommend the condition of marriage if you find the right woman.” He straightened one cuff and then the other. “You should decide what you mean to do, Darcy, and do it.”

And with that, Wickham was gone.

Aldridge would be back by month’s end. If he had a mortgaged estate, a weakness at the tables, a temper—anything at all that would have allowed Darcy in good conscience to issue a warning to Mr. Gardiner, he would have felt easier. But there was nothing. The man was sound. Miss Elizabeth’s family had every reason to hope she would take him, and no reason in the world to hope otherwise.

He remembered Miss Elizabeth walking the path next to him. So close that he could have taken her hand.

“I do know it now,” she had said. And she had forgiven him.

Darcy crouched to bank the fire himself rather than ring for a servant.

Tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth would sit in his mother’s music room to hear the sonata Georgiana had been practicing all week. Darcy would have to contrive a few minutes with her before or after it, if only to discover whether she had any expectations of Mr. Aldridge.

How Aldridge had made such an important decision so quickly, Darcy did not know. But perhaps the man’s decisiveness only appeared rash to a man who had spent months waiting for a proper moment to simply tender an apology.

CHAPTER 22

“You see I have reformed,” Lady Anne said, taking Elizabeth’s hand at the drawing room door. “Only fourteen guests for this evening, if you include my brother and nephews, and not a soul more. My son counted the invitations.”

“Twice,” Mr. Darcy said drily.

Elizabeth looked past Lady Anne. He was looking at her with a strange expression upon his countenance. It was grave, and yet . . . not. “I must commend your commitment to accuracy, sir,” was all she said.

Lady Anne shook her head and turned to welcome Aunt Gardiner.

The room already held the Matlocks, the Wickhams, and all three Finches. Miss Darcy stood slightly apart, anxiously arranging chairs that were in no need of rearranging, and Elizabeth went to her at once.

“Miss Darcy, it is wonderful to see you.” She waited a moment, then placed her hand over her friend’s. “You have nothing to fear from this audience, you know. We are only family and friends here.”