Page 11 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)

Chapter eleven

“ O h, Lizzy, you have a caller,” came Kitty’s sing-song voice from the parlour.

Elizabeth froze, her neck prickling with dread. “Tell me it is not…”

Kitty merely smirked suggestively over the edge of the book she held… a hand-embossed copy of Fordyce’s sermons. “He has proven most entertaining and considerate,” Kitty sniggered. “He thought that I would profit from borrowing one of his books, as apparently ‘the young ladies of our family must want instruction in all matters moral.’ It was easier than listening to him speak, and so I have been reading for the last half hour. What do you think, Lizzy? Are you not proud of me?”

“He does not intend to remain as a guest, does he? Why, he and my uncle were scarcely introduced. He could not dare impose!”

“I believe his room is two doors down from yours.”

Elizabeth groaned. “And I thought I would be safe here in London from him! I never imagined he would follow us here.”

“He did not follow me ,” corrected Kitty. “I am only here as your ‘companion,’ and a laughable employment that is, since I never know where you are. Lizzy, where have you been? The children said you came back with them earlier and disappeared before even entering the house.”

“I saw our cousin just coming up the steps as I was far down the street, and so I brought the girls to the door and left again before he saw me approaching the house. I imagined that he would learn I was out and go away, but I see his intentions were more determined than that. How ever am I to be rid of him?”

“Mama says the simplest way to manage a man you cannot abide is to marry him, then you may direct his life and send him wherever you wish.”

Elizabeth shuddered. “Good heavens, no. Kitty, if anyone asks, I have taken violently ill and am retiring to my room.”

“That is no good. He will insist on ministering to you, and perhaps reading you your rites if you act convincingly ill. Then you shall be obliged to die or risk the disappointment of Mr Collins and that silly patroness of his.”

Elizabeth felt herself pouting. “Yes, I suppose you are right. I will simply have to be out all day… every day…. Oh, how could he imagine staying here? Surely his acquaintance with our uncle is so slight that he will not dare impose more than a day or two.”

“I believe he mentioned as long as a fortnight, depending upon some other business he claimed while here in Town,” Kitty turned the page neutrally. “Our aunt was at once taken ill with a coughing fit, and I have not seen her since. I wish I had thought of that!”

“And Mr Collins himself?”

No reply was necessary, for that moment a man’s voice was heard in the upper passage, and some ponderous shape moving about upstairs caused the floorboards to squeak.

“It is no good hiding behind the drapes,” Kitty observed, after noting the sudden direction of Elizabeth’s frantic gaze. “He is bound to look out the windows while he waits for you to return.”

“Then I must away at once! Kitty, you have not seen me.”

Kitty flipped another page. “Mmm-hmm… what was your name again?”

Elizabeth gasped with feverish relief. “Thank you, Kitty! I will be at our uncle’s warehouse if Aunt should be concerned.” She lashed her bonnet once again under her chin, just as she heard the first footsteps creaking on the stair. In another half a moment, he would be down, and her attempt at escape all for nought. The main passage, therefore, was no use, so she hastened to complete her preparations in the front foyer.

Her footman was awaiting her… or gentleman… whatever he was. He opened his mouth to speak something of indebtedness or gratitude for her troubles to introduce him, but she firmly grasped him by the elbow. “Come quickly!” she hissed. “Now, not an instant to lose!”

He gaped slightly, his mouth still open as if he wished to speak but could not find any words.

“Come away at once, or I shall abandon you in this house in the company of the most insufferable man you have ever encountered!”

“Forgive me for asking, but was I not a candidate for that title not half an hour ago?”

She turned to survey him with a new appreciation and would have laughed outright, had she not been in such a hurry. “You have lost the contest. Now, come quickly if you will, or you shall be forced to spend your day listening to a fool raving about boiled potatoes and chimney pieces!”

This provided the impetus he required to move his feet. He replaced his hat and allowed her to drag him through the door until they were once again on the street together.

He stared down at her. “I make it a practice never to ask about a lady’s private affairs, but—”

“Half a moment, I pray you, sir!” she interrupted. She sped hurriedly down the street, tugging him by the arm as if he were willingly escorting her. He was heavy , dragging his feet the way he did at first, but within a dozen strides, he was managing his long legs tolerably well. Once they had gained the corner, Elizabeth slipped around it with her escort in tow and then quickly glanced back to be sure that none had noted or followed them.

He was still staring incredulously at her hand on his sleeve—eyes wide and horror-stricken at her unexplained assault on his person. Elizabeth cleared her throat and dropped her hand. “Forgive me, sir,” she excused herself.

“Madam, are you in some danger? Though we have hardly been introduced, far be it from me to permit a lady to suffer at the hands of another.”

“The only danger I am in is that which is common to every lady whose feelings outweigh her resources.”

“I do not understand. Has someone threatened to harm you?”

She chuckled wryly. “I would deem it harm, though most would not agree with me. I am fortunate to have secured the support of my father, for as far as it will go. Please ask me no more about it. Think only that I decided to escort you to my uncle’s office myself.”

“If you intend to do that,” he gestured before him and took up a position half a step behind her. “Perhaps we would draw less attention if I am seen as your manservant. I do not wish to be remarkable any more than do you.”

She lifted her shoulders. “Very well. Come along, my good fellow.”

She had a rather light and pleasing way of moving.

Darcy had never in his life walked—simply walked —behind a lady, save his own mother, but he decided at once to make an effort to do so more often. There was something quite enjoyable about watching the way her skirts played about her ankles, the delicate arch to her shoulders, and even, Heaven help him, the tantalising sway of her hips.

For the first time in years, Darcy permitted himself to admire a woman for her native feminine charms, rather than fearing her manipulative arts. This particular woman still did not know the measure of his wealth and had nothing to gain by attempting to seduce him. Nor did she seem inclined to try. She was simply a… a puzzle. An unpredictable, unaffected… distractingly appealing woma n, despite her glaring faults, whose easy manner utterly unravelled all his previous perceptions of feminine confidence.

Darcy suddenly found it necessary to swallow, for there was a sensation in his mouth very much like that feeling when he anticipated savouring a fine roast duck. She turned her head slightly as she examined the row numbers they passed, and to his continuing mortification, he thought her profile rather more striking upon further examination. He forced himself to look away as Richard’s laughter echoed in his ears. Well, hang the man. There was no crime in looking at a woman, particularly not one who expected him to follow her. Where else could he look?

Once, when her head turned a little farther than on previous occasions, she seemed to self-consciously catch herself and turned slightly more to look him in the eye. “My uncle has taken a new building recently, and I have only been here once,” she apologised. “I remember the number, but I wish to be careful not to pass it.”

“Naturally. I presume your uncle is some manner of textile merchant? We are presently among the cloth distribution warehouses.”

“That, and a number of other things.”

He caught the faintest blush as her head turned again and waited for her to continue. “Will you think the less of me if I demonstrate some basic knowledge of his business? Shall you think me unladylike and then feel yourself free to despise me?”

The gentlemanly answer would have been to deny her suspicions outright, but there was that knowing twinkle in her eye, and then a whisper of conviction in his own heart. Yes, he would have thought the less of her—an hour ago he would have. Her erratic behaviour and unsettling disregard for gentle manners had done little to enhance her appearance of dignity, and he would have had to confess that to her, the distinction of a fine lady was dubiously applied at best.

However, she had helped him. And she continued to help him, though she still knew almost nothing of him. His mouth firmed in resolve .

“I will not think less of you,” he declared. “Rather… I might say that a lady’s knowledge of her uncle’s affairs shows an affection for her family and an interest in practical matters which is very pleasing.”

She paused, glancing over her shoulder once more with an expression which was somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Very well,” she stepped on again. “My uncle also trades extensively with America. At present, he has found success with tobacco and beaver pelts.”

“And you have lived with him for a long while?” he asked politely.

“Oh! No, I am only visiting. I live in Hertfordshire, near Meryton, and I am to return home on Friday.”

“Hertfordshire? Are you familiar with estate known as Netherfield? I understand it is rather large and situated not far from the town called Meryton.”

The lady laughed, then turned to look him full in the face. “I have heard we are to have a new tenant in that house at last. You may well imagine the high hopes of all in Meryton that he will prove a charming neighbour. Oh! Here we are.” She gestured to a door. “My uncle’s office, sir.”

“I hope you do not feel it a very great imposition that I ask of you—a lady entering a warehouse, that is.”

“I do not think it an imposition to speak with my uncle, and his office is in the warehouse, so I make no objection. However, would it not be more proper if you preceded me up the stairs?” She tipped her head toward the steps.

As it happened, Darcy would much rather have followed her—all the better to admire the smooth play of muslin over long legs, the slim turn of ankles peeking beneath her garments… What am I thinking! “Indeed, madam,” he almost coughed, “I thank you.”

Darcy had never before entered a warehouse office, and it was with some mild degree of surprise that he reached the threshold and found no footman waiting to open the door for him. The lady arrived presently beside him, and she lifted her brows in silent inquiry. Not wishing to appear the most hopeless mollycoddle in all of London, he was forced to do the unthinkable.

He knocked on the door himself.

It was opened by a portly older man, with wireframe glasses and spidery wisps of grey hair poking out at odd angles from his skull.

Darcy hesitated. “Mr Gardiner, I presume?”

“Oh!” The man adjusted his glasses. “Dear me, no. Mr Haskins, at your service, sir.” He stared hard at Darcy, then his eyes lit with some recognition on the young lady. “Miss Bennet! I am afraid your uncle has gone out.”

“Gone out? That is unfortunate. I had counted on finding him here.”

“He was, until only a few moments ago. It was a matter with his solicitor which required his immediate attention—something to do with import documents for one of the ships in port. I believe he expected to be several hours.”

“Hours!” the lady lamented. She looked up to him apologetically, pearly white teeth nipping her lip. “I am afraid I am no longer of any help to you, sir.”

“That is not strictly true.”

“Did you not require a statement to clear your character? Will not matters become rather inconvenient for you if you do not have it soon?”

Darcy was chewing thoughtfully on his own inner lip. “Perhaps. But I do not wish to importune you any further, madam. It is not your problem.”

“I feel badly on your behalf, sir, for I know something, or at least I think I know something, of the circumstances you face. I am not without genuine sympathy in the matter.”

“I thank you for that. Unfortunately, sympathy will do very little toward solving my predicament. I may apply to your uncle again, but I am afraid for today, I must seek another alternative. ”

“Perhaps if you have nothing better in mind, we could go together to seek out my uncle in town?” she suggested.

He looked down suspiciously. “Why would you trouble yourself so? You owe me nothing. Ought you not to return to your home?”

“As it happens,” she permitted a guilty smile, “there is another guest at my uncle’s residence I wish to avoid. I find it preferable to enjoy the sights of London since I am not often afforded the opportunity. And who could object, as my safety has been secured by a proper footman?”

“I see. Well then, madam,” he bowed gallantly and gestured for her to precede him back down the stairs. “Allow me to escort you.”