Page 43 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)

I t was a week since the end of the house party. He was very content to be back. Darcy House was wonderfully empty of noise, of people he did not know, of organised activities that he might not be in the mood for. And gratifyingly empty, in a way, of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

But she was still here; in Darcy’s mind often, and at odd times of day. Distressingly, he was sometimes thinking of her as he woke.

Darcy shook his head violently. He wanted to forget her if he possibly could.

Yes, he had told Lady Palmer that he would like to know her better, but back here in town, with his family around him, and Georgiana’s come-out into society to think of; the unfortunate background of Miss Bennet was coming forward in his mind. Perhaps he had had a lucky escape.

And she was not looking for a husband. Whilst he could hardly believe it of her, perhaps she was in earnest, and would not change her mind. If that was the case, he must not pursue her — there were many ladies of the first circles who would accept him without effort.

Darcy shut his mind to the fact that not one of the society ladies he had met had anything in their heads other than gossip, fashion and persistent flattery.

And not just the first circles. Miss Bingley.

He shuddered and rose to his feet. Perhaps he would go to his club for luncheon.

He might meet someone there to converse with. Then he would not think of Miss Bennet.

But before he could leave his study, the door opened. “Colonel Fitzwilliam,” intoned the butler.

“Thank you.” Darcy nodded to the man. “Coffee, please.”

He held out a welcoming hand to his cousin. “Richard! I am very glad to see you.” He laughed as they crossed to the deep leather armchairs by the fire. “I am happy you came now, I was just about to go to my club to find someone to talk to.”

Richard gave him a dubious look. “Has something happened to you? You never tire of your own company.”

Darcy shrugged, and sat opposite him. “I suppose it is a bit sudden, having returned to blessed silence after that house party.”

Richard looked sceptical. “Well, you have been home for a week, and apart from calling on Georgiana twice, you have not been out at all, to my knowledge.”

Darcy shrugged. “There has been a lot of business to catch up on.” And that has taken me much longer than it ought with my distraction over a pair of fine eyes.

“Anyway, you can thank me later, but I am here to solve your lack of company for today.” Richard grinned. “You are to accompany me to the theatre tonight. I need to be in your box.”

It was Darcy’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “What play?”

Richard shrugged. “I don’t know. But I want us to have some escape from my parents and you need to be seen in society; and we both need to observe — from a distance — young ladies for the latest fashions of the season so we can find something to converse about at those balls we will have to go to.”

Darcy grumbled under his breath. “I go to the theatre to see a play, not to watch the audience and be watched in my turn.”

“And you will see a play. You just don’t know which one yet. My only stipulation is that it be just us. If you see the Bingleys, do not, under any circumstances respond to her hints that they would like to join you.”

“I agree with that at least.”

“Good. You can collect me at seven.” Richard was on his feet.

“I haven’t said I will go yet.” Darcy joined him at the door.

“You will.” His cousin laughed. “I haven’t said what I want to talk to you about.”

Darcy kept his face impassive as he walked beside Richard through the crowded foyer. The roads to Covent Garden had been crowded, and he was definitely out of humour.

But soon enough, they were in his box, with the doors shut and they were private again — at least as private as he could be with the box open at the front to the auditorium.

Directly opposite his box was the Abingdon box, and he wished he didn’t know whose it was.

In thinking of Lady Palmer, his mind flitted straight to Miss Bennet, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Every time he had been here before, that box had been empty, darkened.

It would be the same today. If it was not, it would be some unknown members of the extended family, he was certain.

He watched, dismayed, as some servants entered, and began lighting the sconces.

A few minutes later, he wished he was anywhere else but where he was. Lady Palmer entered the box, supported by the solicitous Miss Bennet, and followed by a fashionably-dressed couple he did not know.

“Who is that young lady?” Richard whispered, having caught the direction of Darcy’s attention.

Darcy hesitated. “A country acquaintance who happened to be at the house party with Lady Palmer.”

“Remind me who Lady Palmer is?”

“The Dowager Countess of Abingdon.” Darcy wasn’t about to say any more than was asked of him, but Richard could be persistent.

Thankfully, it was only a few minutes more until the performance started, and Darcy determinedly set his gaze upon the stage.

The odd time or two he surreptitiously glanced across the auditorium, he saw Miss Bennet was watching the play with rapt attention.

“Who are the couple with them?” Richard was not about to let him forget she was there.

“I do not know them.” But Darcy was already wondering.

Miss Bennet seemed very comfortable in their company, but they must be from the Abingdon family, he thought.

Her aunt and uncle were in trade and hardly likely to be so genteel in their dress and behaviour.

But she was laughing and graceful, appearing to make witty comments, for even Lady Palmer was shaking her head with amusement at her.

As the interval started, so did Richard. “So tell me where you first met that young lady.”

“When I was staying in Hertfordshire with Bingley. Her father’s estate borders his, and we were in company for a few weeks.

Her family are among the most vulgar, boorish people — except for the two eldest daughters.

There are five daughters and the estate is entailed away to a distant cousin.

” Darcy kept his gaze firmly away from the box opposite and his cousin. Not that it prevented more questions.

A few more, and Richard got to his feet. “Come on Darcy. We’re going to call on Lady Palmer and her companions.”

Darcy set himself more firmly in his seat. “We are not.”

“Yes we are.” Richard glared at him and Darcy glared back. At that moment, a discreet knock on the door heralded a footman.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy. The Dowager Countess of Abingdon requests your company at her box for a few moments.”

Thus he found himself entering the Abingdon box, unable to keep his gaze from going at once to Miss Bennet, who was looking rather displeased with Lady Palmer; she kept her eyes lowered.

Darcy remembered his manners and greeted the Lady and Miss Bennet with a formal bow, and requested permission to introduce his cousin.

Once he had done so, Lady Palmer introduced them to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet’s uncle and aunt.

Darcy remembered his manners, but inside he was shocked.

Mrs. Bennet’s brother! How could he be so fashionable and genteel?

The clothes were not a surprise, after all, they must have the choice of all Gardiner Emporium fabrics.

Mrs. Gardiner too, had perfect manners. She talked of remembering his parents from her girlhood in Lambton, and he thought briefly how Georgiana would love to hear of the mother she barely recalled.

Then he pulled himself back together, and turned to Miss Bennet. “Are you happy to be returned to town, madam?”

She smiled slightly, and her eyes danced. “I am, sir. It is quite peaceful, reading stories to three small nieces and a nephew, compared to having to make polite conversation with people one hardly knows and about subjects of no interest to one!” She laughed, and Mr. Gardiner laughed too.

“I have never known you not to find interest in any subject, Lizzy!”

“Indeed.” She laughed merrily. “I wonder where I acquired that aspect of my character.” She rolled her eyes fondly at her uncle.

Then she turned to Richard. “I believe it might have been you that would have been questioned by your cousin to satisfy my curiosity of how war horses were being transported to the Peninsula.”

“It was indeed, Miss Bennet! I was pleased that someone was taking an interest in the poor beasts, and that I have now discovered it was you makes it doubly delightful.” He smiled charmingly at her. “If you would like, I could invite you with your relations to a review.”

Darcy did not like how his cousin appeared to be able to make Miss Bennet relax and smile.

Thankfully, the bell rang, signifying the intermission was about to end and Darcy could make his way back to their box ready for the second act, with his cousin in tow.

“She is delightful, Darcy. No wonder you have been hiding away at home. She is beautiful, witty, charming and intelligent.” Richard looked at him narrowly. “Have I met the future Mrs. Darcy?”

“No!” Darcy spoke more vehemently than he ought, and Richard’s eyebrows came into use again.

“No,” Darcy repeated. “I told you of her dreadful family. That aunt and uncle you just met are in trade. They live in Cheapside — you have heard of Gardiner’s?”

“That Gardiner?” Richard gave a low whistle. “So there’s money.”

“Stay away, Richard.” Darcy kept his voice as firm as he could. “Miss Bennet has told me repeatedly that she is not looking for a husband and does not intend to marry.”

“Hmm.” As the curtain rose, his cousin sat back, and Darcy knew that the questions were only delayed, not finished.

He kept his gaze on stage, but saw nothing of the play. Was Miss Bennet really determined in her course? How could any young lady not wish to marry?