Page 98 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

“At one.” Mrs. Gardiner nodded at him.

Behind her, Miss Elizabeth was near enough to have heard the hour, if not the whole conversation. Darcy could not read her face.

The party gathered their coats and catalogues, then they all made their farewells. Georgiana talked all the way home about the pictures of Derbyshire, the flower studies, and both Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth’s opinions on everything. Richard offered his own judgements upon landscapes it was clear he had scarcely glanced at.

As the carriage turned out of Pall Mall, Richard leaned across. “Am I fond of flower paintings?”

“Yes,” said Darcy.

“I thought I might be.” Richard settled back, satisfied. “It is important to know one’s preferences.”

Georgiana, who had been examining her catalogue, looked up. “You liked Night-Blowing Cereus best.”

Richard considered this with gravity. “I did. I never knew a flower could appear so ferocious. I quite enjoyed it.”

Darcy let his cousin rattle away, hearing only perhaps half of it. He could only think about Thursday and Gracechurch Street. There would be no mother arranging for him to walk around the block like a fool, no parties that were suddenly four times the promised size, no young ladies with anxious parents appearing in his home. For once in the whole of this wretched season, nobody had arranged a thing except a time for him to call.

Whatever had changed in Miss Elizabeth, it was not her kindness. He had seen it all morning, offered to Georgiana, to her sister, to her aunt, even to strangers who stepped in her way and apologised too late. Even to him, until she remembered herself and retreated.

And on Thursday, he would be able to ask her why.

CHAPTER 24

Mr. Darcy was to call on Thursday at one.

Elizabeth had overheard only Mr. Darcy repeating the hour at the exhibition, standing near her aunt with a catalogue she had given up reading. She had waited the whole way home for the intelligence to be shared. Her aunt had spoken of the Derbyshire paintings, the flower studies, the crowd, a woman wearing a bonnet that had blocked her view—but had said nothing at all about a visit.

The announcement had come at breakfast this morning instead, and it was addressed not to her, but to her uncle.

Her aunt set her spoon down and said, “Mr. Darcy will be calling tomorrow at one. I have told Cook to use the good tea, so you may wish to bring home a little more.”

“Does he want to buy something?” Uncle Gardiner did not look up from his newspaper. “Men only call on me at one o’clock when they want prices, credit, or something from my warehouses.”

“He is coming to drink tea, my dear.”

Now he lowered the paper. “At whose request?”

“Mine.”

Elizabeth had been trying not to think of Pall Mall, or Derbyshire views, or Mr. Darcy standing beside a painting explaining how the colour of the bluebells changed depending upon the light. She did not want to hear what he wanted to tell her, for she feared it would be to inform her that he and Miss Finch were to be married. But surely he owed her no explanation. And even if he felt them friends enough to require it, he certainly would not come all the way to Gracechurch Street to do so.

No. He was coming because her aunt had asked him to come. That was all. But why would her aunt issue such an invitation in the first place? Elizabeth applied herself to her eggs and toast.

Beside her, Jane set the honey next to her without being asked. “Do Lady Anne and Miss Darcy come with him?” she asked.

“No.” Her aunt poured for Uncle Gardiner. “He comes alone.”

“Then he is certainly intending to buy something,” said Uncle Gardiner, and turned his page. “Perhaps a gift for his mother or sister.”

Her aunt lifted her teacup. “Mr. Darcy is coming here, and you will be at your warehouse, my dear.”

Uncle Gardiner paused. “Will I?”

“Yes. I have confirmed it with your clerk.”

Her uncle lowered the paper again and met his wife’s gaze. “My clerk is turning out to be a very managing sort of fellow.”

“He is a treasure,” said Aunt Gardiner, “and very obliging.”