Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

The money-taker at the front desk raised his eyebrows at Elizabeth when she handed over her entrance fee. She tried her best to ignore him—she could not possibly be the only person to have visited so often—but his mockery only exacerbated her vexation to be at the exhibition for a third time in as many days .

She took her aunt's arm and directed her towards the stairs. "I thank you sincerely for coming with me, but I have been thinking—it is probably best if I speak to Miss Darcy alone. It is a delicate subject—I should not like to embarrass her."

"I have been wondering the same myself," Mrs Gardiner replied. "It is a shame, for it would have been nice to talk to her, but I agree—it would be best if I remained discreet."

They reached the landing and with a nod of thanks, Elizabeth set out through the crowds towards the couch at the end of the upper east room. She did not get far before her steps slowed. She had been focused on helping Miss Darcy evade disaster, but now that she was approaching the interview, the reality of speaking to Mr Darcy's sister loomed large.

They had not been in company since her own precipitous departure from Derbyshire the previous summer, and there had not been enough time for any real affection to be established between them before that. They had met but twice—once when Mr Darcy brought his sister to call at the inn where she and the Gardiners were staying, and again when she and Mrs Gardiner returned the call.

At neither meeting had Elizabeth shown herself to particularly great advantage. On the first occasion, she had been too embarrassed, too nervous to give a good account of herself, and on the second, Miss Bingley had sabotaged any chance she might have had of making a good impression by commandeering the conversation to make insinuations about Wickham.

Then Lydia had eloped, and Elizabeth and the Gardiners had been summoned home, requiring them to renege on their acceptance of Miss Darcy's invitation to dine at Pemberley. Since then, Elizabeth's sister had married the man with whom Miss Darcy had once thought herself in love, and Mr Darcy's affections had evaporated. It did not seem likely the young lady would be pleased to see her.

So preoccupied was she with these reflections that she did not notice her proximity to the couch until she was all but tripping over it. It was impossible, therefore, to avoid the notice of the lady seated upon it; too late to hurl herself behind the pillar to hide again; too late to do anything other than smile weakly as Lady Tuppence Swanbrook firmly patted the empty space next to her and waited with an expectant expression for Elizabeth to sit down. Her heart sank, but there was no getting out of it; to walk away would be to give a direct cut every bit as insolent as the one from which Lady Tuppence had been trying to save her.

She lowered herself onto the couch. "Good day."

Lady Tuppence did not answer immediately. Both ladies sat facing forwards, looking into the room in uncomfortable silence. An older gentleman looked briefly in their direction—a fleeting look which, ending as it did with a disappointed pout, most likely signified a search for somewhere to sit down, but which her ladyship took for something more nefarious.

"The staring has not improved much, has it?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Actually, I do not think he?—"

"If only you had kept your appointment with my cousin, their derision would have been done away with. Why did you not?"

Here it was, then. Elizabeth considered claiming to have misremembered the meeting time, but misdirection had got her into this tangle, and she did not think it could be relied upon to get her out of it. The truth was likely the safest response.

"I am sorry if either of you were offended. I ought to have been honest with you on Monday, but I did not wish to seem ungrateful when you were trying to help me. The truth is, I could not face it. I suffered a very great disappointment last year and the thought of meeting someone new, even just to walk about an exhibition with him, was…I could not bring myself to do it."

Lady Tuppence regarded her appraisingly for a moment or two, then inclined her head. "I am sorry to hear that, though it makes it an even greater shame that you did not meet Rutherford. He might have restored your faith in men."

Elizabeth did her best to conceal her surprise at this remark, though it gave her pause. If Lord Rutherford was a cad, he had evidently done an excellent job of concealing it from his cousin.

"I do not need my faith restored," she replied. "I was not ill-used. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was a wonderful man. There were just too many obstacles in the end."

"Pfft! Some men are too easily put off."

"Some are, it is true." She considered whether to expound. It was highly unusual to discuss such things with a stranger, but Lady Tuppence seemed interested, and Elizabeth was grateful for the chance to appease her with friendly discourse. And since it was unlikely that they would ever meet, she did not think Jane would mind if she elaborated a little. "My oldest sister had a suitor once, who was persuaded by his friends to throw her over. In their judgment, she did not love him, and her connexions did not compensate for the want of affection."

"Did she love him?"

"Yes, she did, although not as much as she loves her husband." At Lady Tuppence's querying look, Elizabeth added, "Whom she met after Mr Bingley abandoned her. His name is Mr Malcolm. His carriage wheel broke near our home one day last summer, and he and his driver came to the house in search of assistance. The rest is self-evident, for they are married now, and living in connubial bliss in Buckinghamshire."

"This Mr Bingley did her a good turn in leaving, then."

"Yes, and he did her an even greater one by coming back. It was above nine months after he left, but he seemed to expect that he could take up where he left off. I could have told him there was no chance of it, but it scared Mr Malcolm into proposing for fear that Jane would choose her first love over him."

"Ah, yes! If you cannot tempt a man by conventional means, then giving him competition is always the next best option. But I am curious—what made you say your young man was less easily swayed? I hope you will not mind me observing that your heartbreak rather discredits your claim."

Elizabeth smiled wryly. "He put up with quite a lot before conceding defeat. His affections and wishes outlasted my vilification of his character, my rejection of his offer of marriage, a separation of half a year, and for a while, all the objections of his friends and family."

"For a while?"

"Yes…until his aunt heard a rumour that we were romantically attached and took exception to the idea. She came to my home in Hertfordshire and tried to extract a promise from me that I would never accept an offer from her nephew."

"Shocking! Did you promise?"

"I did not, but it did not matter in the end. Other events had occurred by then which clearly eroded his esteem. My youngest sister married a man with whom he could never consent to being connected—and justly so. If I had the choice, I would not pick Mr Wickham as a brother either. But all told, it was one complication too many."

"Your suitor left?"

Elizabeth nodded. "And never came back." She had begun the tale assuming she would be able to tell it impartially, a simple relaying of facts. She ended it with a catch in her voice and a horrible heaviness in her heart. She hoped her distress was not obvious, but Lady Tuppence confirmed that it was when she nodded pityingly.

"It goes that way sometimes. I am sorry for you. But perhaps it is better that you did not meet my cousin. He is a gentle soul. He would not have liked it if your heart was not in it."

For the second time, Elizabeth struggled to keep her countenance. A gentle soul? That was hardly consistent with Sergeant Mulhall's account of him. "He is a kind man, then, is he?" she asked warily.

That earned her a sharp look. "What a strange question," Lady Tuppence replied. She narrowed her eyes. "Have you heard somebody say otherwise?"

"I…well, I?—"

"Oh, stuff and nonsense! You ought not to have paid it the slightest bit of notice. This always happens."

"What does?"

She let out a sharp sigh. "You recall what I told you about his altogether tiresome pursuits?"

"Forgive me, no. I was a little distracted at the time."

Lady Tuppence had been adamant that a complete catastrophe had befallen Elizabeth and had been almost fanatic in her resolve to extract some manner of greeting or acknowledgement from every person who so much as looked their way. Elizabeth had scarcely thought it necessary at the time and was even more convinced of the redundancy of the endeavour now, but either way, it meant she had paid very little attention to anything that was said about Lord Rutherford.

Now that she applied herself to the matter, however, one rather incongruous memory surfaced. "I do seem to recall that you accused him of being somewhat…dull?"

"So, you do remember—good. Yes, he will insist on politicking, and some of his activities have made him unpopular with a certain set of gentlemen—those who favour the sorts of establishments my cousin is engaged in attempting to have proscribed. They are vociferous in their censure. If some of it has reached your ears, it sadly does not surprise me."

Elizabeth nodded. She supposed that, if Lord Rutherford's name was often mentioned within the context of such insalubrious places, it was conceivable that he might have been mistaken as belonging to the wrong side of the debate. "Campaigning for reform is an admirable undertaking. He must be very sensible if he has not allowed the criticism to put him off."

"He is, but you must not take my teasing too seriously. He is not truly dull. I only say that because he is cleverer than I am. And a good deal quieter."

Elizabeth smiled fondly. "I require no convincing that a taciturn nature can be fascinating."

"Oh? Your beau was similarly reserved, was he?"

"Am I so transparent?" she replied, laughing. "But yes, he was. I did not understand that at first, of course, but once I did, I came to like it very well. He had a wonderful way of attending to my conversations that made it seem as though everything I said was the most important thing in the world. Even when what I said was designed to give him pain, which to my shame, it often was."

Lady Tuppence held Elizabeth's gaze for a few seconds before replying. "You are wholly forgiven for disappointing my cousin. It would have been cruel indeed to introduce him to someone so much in love with somebody else."

Elizabeth felt her cheeks redden, both in embarrassment that her affections should be on such naked display, and unease, for she knew very well that Lord Rutherford had remained disappointed for the grand total of about two minutes before his hopes were redirected towards Miss Darcy. "If he is as wonderful as you have made him sound, then I daresay he will not have to wait long before he meets somebody else. Whoever she is will have much to look forward to by your account."

"Whoever she is will be treated like a queen, for Rutherford is the kindest, most generous man I know. If I were of a gentler disposition, I might marry him myself—I know our mothers would be delighted by the alliance—but I am simply not sweet enough for him. Happily, you and I may rest easy, for he has overcome both our rejections. When you did not turn up yesterday, he had the good fortune to meet a different young lady."

Elizabeth managed to affect a reasonably convincing tone of surprise as she asked, "Oh?"

"Yes, and since I know your heart is steadfastly engaged elsewhere, I shall not scruple to tell you that he was exceedingly taken with her. He did not stop singing her praises all evening. That is why I am here actually. He arranged to meet her again today but has been called away on business. He asked me to pass on his regrets. She ought to be here at any moment, and I do not mind admitting that I am all anticipation to meet her."

Elizabeth was now wholly satisfied that Sergeant Mulhall had been talking utter rubbish when he accused Lord Rutherford of roguishness, and that she had wasted her whole morning and two shillings on a needless crusade. Abandoning her plans, she resolved to escape before Miss Darcy arrived. "Then I shall most happily leave you to it. I must find my aunt. Pray, accept my best wishes for your cousin's happiness. Excuse me."

"Wait." Lady Tuppence reached into her reticule and withdrew a beautiful mother-of-pearl case, from which she took a calling card. She held it out to Elizabeth. "I like you. Call on me."

Elizabeth took the card but privately dismissed all possibility of establishing a friendship with a woman whose cousin might one day marry Mr Darcy's sister. Such a close connexion would be too painful to even contemplate.

"And a word of advice, Miss Bennet. Do not waste too much of your life pining. Take it from a woman in her fifth Season—it will achieve nothing but to make a good many things much harder than they need to be."

It was difficult to know how to answer that, and Elizabeth settled for saying thank you, dipping a quick curtsey, and leaving.

"Did you speak to her?" Mrs Gardiner asked when Elizabeth found her.

"No, but I have changed my mind. You were right; this was a mistake. I should never have presumed to interfere." She ushered her aunt towards the exit, praying Miss Darcy would not arrive before they could get out, for there were no pillars that she might lunge behind in this part of the building.

"I cannot say I am sorry to hear that," Mrs Gardiner said. "I was not completely comfortable with the idea, as you know. But why the haste?"

"Because if I do not have to speak to her about Lord Rutherford, then I would rather not speak to her at all. I am sorry I wasted your morning, but pray, let us get out of this wretched place before she arrives. If I never have to come back it will be too soon!"