by Jennifer Joy
Bingley smiled. “We met Miss Elizabeth in passing. I am certain my sister is desirous of renewing their brief acquaintance.”
Miss Bingley's spine was so straight, a wisp of a draft would send her sprawling across the floor.
“I thank you, sir. It will benefit them greatly to occupy their time with new friends.”
Darcy watched the siblings. Bingley had heard of Miss Bennet’s beauty and grace. Of course he would want to meet her. Miss Bingley, on the other hand, smirked in her seat. Finally, she said, "I would love to invite you and your nieces over for tea, Mr. Gardiner. Does tomorrow suit your schedule?" Her words dripped with nectar. "I believe we can help one another. I will even include my aunt Lavinia in our party and Mr. Darcy, of course."
Darcy cringed. He made it a custom to decline invitations extended by Miss Bingley, but he could not refuse this one. He doubted her ‘help’ was what Mr. Gardiner sought. Nor did Darcy wish it for Miss Elizabeth. It would be good to see her again. It had been two weeks….
Chapter 12
The Gardiner house was abuzz with excitement and anticipation. “One of the gentlemen is bound to take a fancy to one of them,” Uncle Gardiner was often heard saying to Aunt. Any pleasure Elizabeth had at the prospect of seeing Mr. Darcy again was dampened by their expectations. She would, however, finally have an opportunity to return his handkerchief. She had grown accustomed to carrying it inside her sleeve and would find a way to see it back discreetly to its rightful owner.
"What is Lady Rutledge like, Uncle?" she asked, attempting to distract him from thoughts of orange blossoms and lace.
"Lady Rutledge? Oh, you will find out soon enough. I only met her briefly when I was much younger, and since then I have only heard stories." He fussed with his cravat.
"Stories?" she pressed.
Uncle cleared his throat and shifted his weight on the carriage cushion.
Aunt answered. "Of what use is it to hear stories when we do not know for certain if they are true. She will be at the tea this afternoon, and you shall judge her character for yourself."
"I wish Jane had come with us," Elizabeth sighed. Mother would have been appalled, as Uncle had been, that her eldest daughter had preferred to stay behind when there would be at least two single gentlemen present. Mr. Bingley seemed like a pleasant fellow, and Elizabeth would have liked for Jane to meet him.
"I would rather her have come with us as well, but her reason for staying behind helps me feel easier. Emma is only now recovering from her fever and I would have been very anxious leaving her behind if not for Jane." Aunt crumpled her reticule in her hands.
Uncle squeezed her hand. "We do have a nurse, Madeline."
"I know it, and she is an excellent nurse, but… Jane cares so much more for the children, being a relation." Aunt’s concern for her own child far outweighed her insistence that her nieces marry the first gentlemen put in their way. Elizabeth praised her sensibleness.
"Just promise me that you will not delegate Janey to the role of a nurse to the detriment of her future prospects. A young lady such as she ought to marry and have children of her own," insisted Uncle.
Adjusting the brooch on her dress, Aunt said, "You are quite right, my love. Perhaps I should have urged her more firmly to accompany us."
"Do not trouble yourself too much. It is my hope that there will be a next time." With an affectionate glance at Aunt, he clasped his hands together and focused his attention on Elizabeth. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Elizabeth forced the butterflies in her stomach down with a deep breath. Would Mr. Darcy be pleased to see her? She was nervous, but she would not own to it. "As ready as I imagine I could be."
The carriage lurched forward to a stop. "Here we are!" said Uncle in a cheerful voice.
The townhouse was favorably situated on a corner in a stylish neighborhood at St. James. Bright curtains adorned the wide windows, setting it apart from its somber neighbors. The clouds parted just as they descended the carriage to walk up the pathway leading to the front door. With the sun shining on the house, reflecting off the shiny glass and the light stones, it appeared as if the building were smiling. It ought not to have meant anything, but it did make Elizabeth feel better.
They were seen into a room styled in the Grecian fashion where a table was set up and arranged with all manner of repasts. Off to the side, there was a seating area where four figures stood when they entered the room. The Bingleys stood together and Mr. Darcy stood next to an older woman with silver hair. She bore a striking resemblance to her niece, Miss Bingley. She was as tall as Miss Bingley and thin. Her sharp eyes bore into her, and Elizabeth was certain nothing ever escaped the lady’s notice.
She saw Mr. Darcy's lips curl up and felt her confidence increase. He was pleased to see her.
They had not even been presented yet, when Lady Rutledge said, "So, this is the young lady you told me about?"
Elizabeth stopped short, unsure whether to be flattered or alarmed to have been the center of a previous discussion. But one look at Mr. Darcy, holding his hand up to cover his smiling mouth, had her biting her lips to keep from smiling too.
"Aunt Lavinia, if you will allow me to make introductions, you shall soon find out," hissed Mr. Bingley with an embarrassed glance at Elizabeth and her party.
Introductions were made, and Lady Rutledge did not take her eyes off Elizabeth for a second. Elizabeth stood as tall as her reduced stature would allow, feeling as if the lady were measuring her.
They sat around the table, Lady Rutledge placing herself directly across from Elizabeth, so that she might examine her all the better. Mr. Darcy sat next to her and Miss Bingley flanked her on the other side.
Lady Rutledge was surprisingly quiet after her initial outburst, but her silence only put Elizabeth more on edge under her scrutinizing stare.
Between Uncle and Aunt Gardiner, Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley, the conversation never fell silent. Lively chatter filled the room, and her sense of foreboding increased. Miss Bingley was quick to agree with Uncle’s praise of Elizabeth— a development which confused her further. She understood Uncle’s reasons for doing so, but could not fathom Miss Bingley’s motive.
How could she tell Uncle? She looked at him, but she could not think of a way to tactfully extricate herself from the increasingly uncomfortable room. If only Lady Rutledge would say something rather than stare at her from across the table.
Mr. Darcy, too, seemed to have come under Lady Rutledge's spell and sat silently contemplating Elizabeth. Though his gaze was agreeable, she wondered what he saw in her to capture his attention for so long. Stiffening her spine and lifting her chin, she traced the letters on his handkerchief hidden up her sleeve and tried to relax. Of course, unless Lady Rutledge quit scrutinizing her, she would have to keep it longer still.
“Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, there is a matter of some delicacy of which I think I ought to seek your advice. We are among friends, so I will speak plainly,” said Miss Bingley with a sweet smile.
Flattered by her compliment in including them as friends, they encouraged her to unburden herself.
Lady Rutledge narrowed her eyes until they were as thin as daggers.
“It has been incumbent on me to reside for a time with my aunt in her home, and I fear that my excessive obligations during this season prevent me from continuing there.” She pulled her bottom lip out in a pretty pout. “Do you know of any young ladies of good birth and remarkable accomplishments who might serve as a sort of companion?”
Elizabeth understood her compliments then. Miss Bingley was careful not to look in her direction, but Elizabeth saw through her. Otherwise, why would she bother to compliment her— and in front of Mr. Darcy at that!
Looking at Lady Rutledge, who looked none too pleased at the topic of conversation, Elizabeth wondered what it was about the elegant widow that prevented her own niece from staying with her. Why would she seek a companion when her aunt clearly did not wish for one?
Uncle
Gardiner stroked his sideburns, deep in thought. Aunt offered, “I cannot think of any eligible lady at this moment, but I will make inquiries immediately.”
With a sigh that suggested resignation and a sharp voice that suggested rebellion, Lady Rutledge said, “You may as well save your breath, Mrs. Gardiner. I am an opinionated old widow, who causes so much trouble, my own niece has grown tired of my ways. There does not exist a young lady in all of London who would dare put up with me for more than a day.” Her steely, gray eyes flashed at Elizabeth, laying down a challenge.
His wife thus addressed, Uncle took it upon himself to respond. “When you put it that way, I daresay you might have difficulty finding someone suitable. We will do our best to assist you where we can.” He nodded in finality of that unpleasant topic. “Mr. Darcy, the last time you saw Miss Elizabeth, she had suffered an injury. I hope you find her well now.”
It was a comment her mother would have made, and Elizabeth wished to crawl under the table.
“I did notice that Miss Bennet was able to walk independently. I apologize that I have not called sooner at your residence. A matter in Brighton kept me away from town until recently after leaving Netherfield Park.” Mr. Darcy’s polite answer made Elizabeth’s ears burn.
“You are welcome any time,” beamed Aunt.
“Yes, as is Mr. Bingley, of course. And Miss Bingley,” added Uncle. He may as well have made Elizabeth wear a sign around her neck saying, “Please marry my niece!”
Grinding her teeth, Elizabeth looked away to see Lady Rutledge’s smirk.
Uncle opened his mouth to speak again, and Elizabeth knew he would make another comment meant to make her look good before the gentlemen in their company. He meant well, but she would decide with whom she chose to spend the rest of her life. She did not appreciate his interference.
“I will do it,” she blurted out. Elizabeth reached up to cover her mouth with her hand before she could say anything else she would regret, but stopped midair. Instead, she bit her tongue so hard, it hurt.
Uncle and Aunt were too stunned to reply. Maybe nobody had noticed…
Miss Bingley clasped her hands together. “How delightful! Oh, Charles, is Miss Eliza not perfect for the position?”
Drat.
Mr. Bingley mirrored Uncle’s expression.
“Are you certain, Miss Bennet?” asked Mr. Darcy, his voice low.
What had she done? Would Mr. Darcy still be her friend if she became a lowly companion? Rebelling at the ugly possibility, she straightened her spine and jutted out her chin. If he ceased being her friend because of her lowered position in society, then he was undeserving of her admiration. She searched his expression for the answer she wanted so badly.
Before Elizabeth could answer, Lady Rutledge snapped, "How old are you?"
"Old enough." She should not withhold information, but the woman's brusque manners grated on her.
"Humph. If you are old enough, as you say, then why are you not yet married? You are not ugly."
From the side, Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy reach up to tug on his collar. Apparently she was not the only uncomfortable person in the room.
"Aunt Lavinia, what sort of question is that?" interjected Mr. Bingley, turning a rosy shade of pink.
Squinting her eyes at Lady Rutledge, Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Bingley. "It is a fair question, and I thank Lady Rutledge for the compliment."
“Do not be so sure it was,” Lady Rutledge said under her breath, but loudly enough for all to hear.
Focusing her full attention once again on Lady Rutledge until everyone else at the table blurred into nonexistence, Elizabeth said, "I have not married for the simple reason that I did not love the one gentleman who has asked. I find that I am incapable of accepting a proposal for anything less than the greatest of affection and admiration. I think love is worth waiting for and would not rush it."
A loud clatter broke her concentration on Lady Rutledge. Mr. Darcy’s teacup lay on its side. He grabbed a napkin to soak up the tea spreading over the tablecloth.
“Did the handle come off the teacup, Mr. Darcy? Caroline, you should not serve that cup to your guests,” chided Lady Rutledge. She ignored Miss Bingley’s adamant denial and stirred a measure of sugar into her tea, her expression softening with each turn of her spoon.
Holding her hand up to quiet her niece, Lady Rutledge said to Elizabeth, "I see. You refuse to settle, but you now find yourself in the uncomfortable position of needing to marry or remain dependent on your good relatives. Yet I sense that you have not given up hope. There will be times— many times, I daresay— when you will need such blinding optimism."
"Lady Rutledge, my niece has suffered great sadness recently, and her heightened emotions have made her speak in haste. She was, and always will be, welcome in my home. She is like a daughter to me," said Uncle Gardiner with a concerned smile at Elizabeth.
An eyebrow twitched up and Lady Rutledge brought a bejeweled hand up to pinch her chin. Her every movement was calculated to be stylish, much like her niece, Miss Bingley. Elizabeth wondered if she gave her lessons. "She has expressed herself clearly thus far, but let me ask some additional questions. Any lady who will not marry for convenience is of interest to me. Tell me, Miss Bennet, how did you come upon such modern ideas and why do you think I should agree to employ you as my companion?" She tilted her chin to the side, elongating her neck elegantly while communicating her interest in one becoming gesture.
Feeling more confident, Elizabeth answered. "My father encouraged me to have opinions and know how to express them. I get the sense that you, too, are a lady of opinions."
"Hmm," Lady Rutledge said noncommittally. "So you are entertaining at the dinner table, but can you play an instrument?"
"I manage well enough."
"Can you draw portraits?"
"Not well."
"Can you sing?"
"Hardly." Elizabeth could not help but smile at the ridiculousness of her situation. She had no qualifications, her ladylike accomplishments having been neglected over the years in favor of the improvement of her mind through extensive reading.
"You do not have much to recommend you, Miss Bennet."
Uncle Gardiner relaxed. Mr. Darcy smiled, though Elizabeth could hardly understand why.
Keeping her chin up and her sense of humor in place, she said, “Then I will return to my uncle’s house, sure of their acceptance. I am not the one in need of a companion.”
Aunt squeezed her hand in support, and Elizabeth practically felt the caress expressed in Uncle’s kind face. Maybe she had spoken out of turn. There was nowhere she would rather be than with people who loved her unconditionally.
Mr. Darcy’s smile deepened. She hoped he would call at Uncle’s soon.
"I like you, Miss Bennet. Can you move your things to my house first thing in the morning? That is, of course, if your uncle does not object to it." Lady Rutledge’s eyes danced over the top of her tea cup as she took another sip. It looked so much like Father when he looked over the top of his spectacles, it took Elizabeth's breath away. Lady Rutledge was not entirely what she seemed.
Swallowing hard, deeply regretting her impulsiveness, Elizabeth said, "I think we can manage that, Lady Rutledge. Can we not, Uncle?" She could not retract her offer now. Not when it was accepted.
Uncle Gardiner nodded, speechless.
In a snappy voice, Lady Rutledge added, "There is one thing we must get clear. You are to call me Aunt Lavinia. I will not be treated like a senile derelict in need of a nanny in my own home.” She looked accusingly at Miss Bingley. “As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, you are a long-lost niece." She challenged everyone around the table with her pointy, extended finger and her piercing glare.
"Very well, Aunt Lavinia."
Satisfied, she said, “I shall call you Eliza.”
Chapter 13
Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth leave with the Gardiners, anticipating the moments he would see her again. He would rather have
called at the Gardiners to see her.
Patting his arm, Lady Rutledge stood beside him. "There is something quite extraordinary in Eliza, do you not agree, Darcy?" He could have embraced Lady Rutledge for ensuring Miss Elizabeth’s standing in society by having her stand in as a niece.
Guarding his reserve, he nodded abruptly. "Quite. Nobody else would put up with you and your antics."
With a chuckle and a chastising whack of her fan on his forearm, she said, "You know me all too well. Tis a pity I am not thirty years younger, Darcy, or you would find yourself in grave danger of being trapped by me." Her eyes crinkled up on the side. The years had been kind to her, and she felt that age granted her the freedom to flirt with whomever she chose. Darcy knew better than to take her seriously.
"I doubt it. I have avoided the snares of many an ambitious lady, and I would have avoided yours as well— however cleverly crafted they might have been." He looked in the direction of Miss Bingley, who was the same age Lady Rutledge wished to be.
"You need someone who is full of life and vigor,” Lady Rutledge said with another assault of her fan against his arm. “Someone who could not care less for conventions and restraints. Someone, dare I say it, very similar to your Miss Elizabeth…? I saw how closely you watched her." Her eyes glinted in mischief.
Darcy knew she merely sought to get a reaction from him, and he was determined not to bite her bait, though he was so warm, he wished to relieve himself of his coat.
"May I walk you home?" he asked, holding out his arm, desirous of the cooler outside air.
"That would be lovely," she said as they bid their farewells from the Bingleys and headed out of the door to walk the short distance to Rutledge House.
They were within sight of the house when Darcy saw a gentleman leaping across the muddy street, doing his utter best not to soil his polished boots. Lady Rutledge saw him too. He was difficult to miss in his military uniform with its shiny gold tassels and buttons.