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Miss Bingley pursed her lips primly. “Yes, well, Charles has been very busy of late. But Jane…you and I are good friends, are we not? We must not allow our friendship to falter because my brother is not ready to be settled.”

“No, of course not,” Jane replied unenthusiastically.

Elizabeth was trying desperately to think of a way to curtail the visit when Hannah appeared to announce the arrival of another caller. Elizabeth looked at the card and smiled broadly, considerably cheered.

“Please show her up.”

“Who is it, Lizzy?” Jane asked.

“The Countess of Rothersea.”

Elizabeth’s first impression of her ladyship had been added to the lengthening list of poor judgments she had made of late, along with that of Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy, Mr Wickham, and her own mother.

In contrast to the cold and overbearing noblewoman Elizabeth had mistaken her for, Lady Rothersea was fast becoming a delightful friend—as was exemplified by the affectionate way she greeted both her and Jane.

Elizabeth poured her a cup of tea, rather meanly enjoying every moment that passed in which she did not ask for Miss Bingley to be introduced to her.

At length, the request was made, however, and Jane performed the duty.

“It is an honour to make your acquaintance,” Miss Bingley said with practiced grace—which she then ruined by adding, “It is so nice to see Miss Eliza beginning to make more friends. When we first met in Hertfordshire her circle was much smaller, but her horizons have expanded greatly since my family visited the area. Indeed, it was under my roof that she became so well acquainted with Mr Darcy.”

Her ladyship raised her eyebrows. “Was it? That was excessively careless, madam. May I recommend you are more attentive next time you have such an eligible houseguest? Miss Elizabeth, is there somewhere we might talk privately?”

Elizabeth made no attempt to hide her smile as she led Lady Rothersea into her aunt’s sitting room at the back of the house.

“I do apologise if I gave any offence to your friend,” her ladyship said as she sat at Mrs Gardiner’s worktable.

“Miss Bingley is no friend of ours,” Elizabeth replied, joining her at the table. “I ought not to have left my sister alone with her, really, but I am glad of the excuse—she was treading on my last nerve.”

“I confess, that was not the reason I wished for privacy. There is something I would discuss with you—something of a delicate nature.”

“Should I be worried?”

Lady Rothersea sighed and put her hand over Elizabeth’s where it lay on the table, indicating that the answer was ‘Yes’. Mindful of the last time somebody had told her they had something of a delicate nature to tell her, Elizabeth steeled herself for bad news.

“I like you a great deal,” her ladyship began.

“I hope, therefore, that you will take me at my word that what I am about to tell you is intended to save you pain, not cause it.” She waited for Elizabeth to nod, then continued, “Last night, after the ladies withdrew, Lord Rothersea overhead a troubling conversation. It seems Mr Darcy has been making enquiries about a woman who…there really is no way to couch this gently, my dear. He was asking about another gentleman’s mistress.

He wished to know where the woman lived.

His cousin insisted it was for his benefit, but my husband tells me it was not a convincing defence, clearly invented in the moment.

” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “I detest being the bearer of bad tidings, but I fear greatly that you have kept Mr Darcy dangling for too long, and he has gone in search of comfort elsewhere.”

Elizabeth did not wish to ruin a promising new friendship before it had begun, but there was nothing she could do to withhold her laughter. She wrapped both her hands around Lady Rothersea’s in a conciliatory gesture.

“Forgive me. It has been a long and rather anxious few months, and this is the best piece of bad news I have had in a long time. You are right, Mr Darcy was not asking for his cousin. He was asking for me. Mrs Randall is my mother’s friend. I have been trying to locate her.”

“Oh, thank heavens! You must think me a silly fool!”

“Not at all! Under different circumstances I should have been very grateful for the information. But as it is, we can exonerate Mr Darcy.”

“I told Rothersea it was unlikely! I said to you, did I not, that Mr Darcy was not the sort. He has an unblemished reputation. That was why his asking the question was so shocking. But pray, why the subterfuge?”

Elizabeth thought it wisest not to admit that she was searching for her adulterous mother and instead hedged, “I did not wish the rest of my family to know I was searching for Mrs Randall. As you just mentioned, her circumstances are not wholly respectable.”

“Upon my word, nobody cares about that!”

Elizabeth supposed she ought not to be shocked, for it was exactly as her aunt had said. It still saddened her. “ You must care, or you would not have come here today.”

“Allow me to rephrase. Nobody cares unless it injures somebody they care about. I should have hated to discover that Mr Darcy had turned his back on you so soon. But, as an example, Lord Fulcombe keeps a mistress, and Lady Fulcombe is delighted about it.”

“I see.”

“But this is a terrible beginning—I have upset you already.”

“You have said nothing wrong,” Elizabeth assured her. “It is just a very different world to the one I am used to.”

Her ladyship sighed. “And I have probably become inured to such matters. But in my sphere, so many marriages are arranged for convenience, without consideration to compatibility or affection, that it is often a blessing when a man takes a mistress.”

Elizabeth thought instantly of Charlotte’s marriage, then felt more than a little guilty for it. Tentatively, she enquired, “Are women given the same freedom?”

“Some are,” Lady Rothersea replied. “Not many, and invariably only those with the protection of great fortune or powerful connexions. Women’s reputations are infinitely more fragile than men’s.”

“Indeed,” Elizabeth agreed, her brief hope for her mother quashed.

Lady Rothersea smirked. “You cannot be asking for yourself. Not when you have one of the most illustrious men in the country sneaking about, carrying out furtive investigations for you.”

Elizabeth enjoyed the brief warmth of thinking that Darcy had been doing it for her, but it did not last. She knew very well that he was doing what he must to protect his own reputation.

For as Lady Rothersea had just confirmed, Mrs Bennet would certainly not count amongst those women who could carry on an affair with impunity.

“Do not try and tell me again that you are not involved,” Lady Rothersea said. Her eyes had narrowed at whatever she had seen in Elizabeth’s expression. “People will grow tired of the story if you prevaricate for too long.”

“I hope they do!” Elizabeth rubbed both her temples with her fingertips. “Then it might all be forgot.”

For the first time, her ladyship looked doubtful. “My dear, are you in earnest? Do you truly have no understanding with him?” When Elizabeth shook her head, she added, “But you are so obviously in love with him.”

For such a recent revelation, the sharp pain that accompanied these words felt horribly familiar. Almost as though Elizabeth’s heart had known the truth for much longer than her head. “Nevertheless, Mr Darcy and I are not engaged, and there is no prospect that we ever shall be.”

Lady Rothersea looked crestfallen. “Then, this whole business must have been unbearable.”

Elizabeth smiled ruefully. “I was diverted at first, but it has long since ceased to be amusing.” Seeing her new friend lost for words of comfort, she said more brightly, “I hope it will blow over soon, for I am due to leave for Kent at the beginning of March.”

At least, she hoped she still might but had already warned Charlotte that she may have to postpone her trip, for so much depended on finding Mrs Bennet.

Lady Rothersea sighed and shook her head. “I feel wretched for the part I have played in this. It just seemed so certain. The pair of you together are so…but never mind. I hope you and I shall remain friends regardless. Perhaps we might write to each other while you are in Kent.”

Elizabeth gave her hearty agreement but then begged to be allowed to return to Jane. When they did, they discovered that Mrs Gardiner had arrived home and was doing her utmost to maintain a conversation in the face of Miss Bingley’s unpardonable ill breeding and Jane’s mute misery.

“Mrs Gardiner! How delightful to see you!” Lady Rothersea positively effused. To Miss Bingley, she said only, “Oh, you are still here,” before remarking on the hour and declaring that it was time for both of them to leave.

“My goodness,” Mrs Gardiner exclaimed once they were gone. “Gracechurch Street has never seen so many distinguished callers! We have you to thank for it, Lizzy, even if you do not like it.”

Elizabeth thought her aunt might not like it either if she knew the true object of her gratitude was her husband’s scandal-ridden sister. As with so much else that she was concealing, she left it unsaid and turned her attention to rallying her sister’s spirits.