Chapter Four

D arcy had just arrived in the vestibule of Carlisle House when he spied four ladies come out into the hall. Lady Carlisle, her niece, and yes—his luck was running true—Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who was dressed in a white gown trimmed with primrose ribbons and appearing as fresh as a blue sky after a spring rain. Her sister was just behind her.

He offered them all a bow, they curtsied, and then Lord Carlisle was calling him into his study.

The earl was standing, arranging a few papers into a neat pile. He finished organising his things and waved at a chair. "Sit down, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy hesitated. He knew himself to be in the wrong, but he felt stubbornly averse to admitting it to anyone other than Miss Elizabeth. She was the only one to whom he owed an apology. But the command had been issued by an earl.

He sat.

"I can see you were not pleased to receive my invitation," Lord Carlisle said, a trace of humour in his voice. "Good."

Darcy raised his eyes to meet the earl's. "I suspect I know why I am here, my lord, and I am prepared to make my apologies to the lady. "

The earl chuckled. "That is not the point of this meeting." He lowered himself into the leather armchair and peered at Darcy across his desk. His examination might have been less than a minute, but it was long enough that Darcy began to shift a bit in discomfort.

"Mr. Darcy," the earl said at last, and Darcy nearly sighed with relief, "I am no longer a young man."

Darcy began to protest politely, for though the man was past sixty, he was trim and appeared in good health.

"No, no," the earl said, swatting away the words as though they were insects buzzing in his ear. "I am not being modest, I am stating a fact and attempting to make a point."

"Yes, my lord."

The earl sat back and folded his hands over his stomach. "You said some harsh things about my ward in the middle of a crowded ball in a voice that could not be misheard."

Darcy closed his eyes. "Yes, sir, I did." There was no point in denying it.

"My niece insisted on having her friends here with us for the season. To be honest, I was not sure we ought to host the Bennet girls. It seemed to me that sponsoring two young women so wholly unknown to society was setting ourselves up for trouble. My thoughts were not so far from those you expressed."

The earl seemed to expect Darcy to reply to that, but he was not sure what to say. "Indeed?"

"Indeed. Do you know what convinced me that I was wrong?"

Darcy shook his head. Whatever it was, guessing was unlikely to reveal the correct answer.

"I spoke with them." The earl leaned forward. "That was all it required. You had the same option available to you. Instead, you decided to humiliate Miss Elizabeth for quite literally no reason at all. You danced, but was she inappropriate in any way? Did she cling to your arm? Flutter her eyelashes? Tug her dress lower to display her assets? Anything that a woman set on enticing a man is known to do here in London?"

No. She had . . . engaged in the art of conversation. Darcy shook his head.

"From what I could glean from her sister, Miss Elizabeth thought you appeared rather dour and gloomy and that she might be able to make you smile. That was her only purpose."

Darcy's brows pinched together. Miss Elizabeth's words had been sharp and challenging, not amusing. Although, when he attempted to recall what part of their debate had so irritated him, he could not identify it. Perhaps it was that she was debating him at all. Was he really so perverse? He had always said he enjoyed a good debate. Was it that he did not appreciate it when a clever woman took up the gauntlet? Darcy did not like to think it of himself.

"We were introduced while they were in town with their aunt and uncle. They came for tea, and I spoke with them, asked them about their goals in town and if they thought being in the company of my family would be of use in achieving them. And do you know what I learned?"

"No, my lord," Darcy replied, taking a breath to allay his anxiety.

"I learned that other than my niece, there are unlikely to be finer young women participating in the season this year than the Bennet girls. I am very pleased for Amelia to share her first season with them."

"As you say, my lord." Darcy thought the earl must want something more. Perhaps now he would be forced to apologise prettily, and that would be fair. He longed to have that done and this entire episode firmly behind him. The earl, however, did not seem inclined to conclude their interview just yet.

"Miss Bennet is the very picture of grace and elegance, but neither gullible nor easily manipulated. While she admitted that her nature tended to naivety, she stated unequivocally that her time at school had cured her of it. She spoke of being scorned for her beauty because, and I quote, ‘it is wasted on a penniless nothing.'"

Had not Lady Henrietta said something similar only last night? Darcy cleared his throat as his discomfort grew.

"As for Miss Elizabeth . . ." The earl's expression softened. "Do you like Shakespeare, Mr. Darcy?"

"I do," Darcy said uncertainly.

"Though she be but little, she is fierce." Lord Carlisle's smile faded. "She has been the protector of all her sisters and even her mother, little though the woman seems to appreciate it. But you and I know she cannot protect her sister or herself in London."

Of course he knew. That was why the Bennets were in town under the protection of the earl and countess.

"I will demand your confidence for the rest. It is not a great secret, but there is no sense in being indiscreet."

No. Darcy did not want to keep any confidences. The apology was why he was here. He wanted to make it—it would be sincere, genuine—and then he wanted to go home and try to decide if this was the year he ought to remain for the season after all. Perhaps next year he could begin again. His uncle would understand.

"Mr. Darcy?"

There was no escaping, it seemed. "Of course, my lord."

"Do I have your word?"

He did not want to give it. "Yes."

The earl nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth are the eldest two sisters of five. No son, and the estate entailed away. Miss Elizabeth explained to me that her father had placed the responsibility of finding husbands and raising the family's consequence squarely on the shoulders of the two of them."

Lady Henrietta had already related most of this information. It was not a new story—fathers and mothers alike did the same every day in the ton. However, it had always struck Darcy as terribly unfair. He had been required to take up all his father's responsibilities, but he had been raised to it. He had not been prepared to take on the mantle so young, but his father had assembled good men around him who had been and still were of invaluable assistance.

"The heir is a distant cousin and is unlikely to take on the care of so many relations whom he does not even know. Their father does little to improve their situation. Their best hope is their mother's brother, who is in trade."

Darcy pursed his lips. He had been right. Deplorable connections.

"I have met them. Estimable people. Prosperous, fashionable, clever. The uncle owns several warehouses. Not your typical merchant."

"Yet you would not host him at a dinner," Darcy said bluntly, and again found himself under the scrutiny of the earl's penetrating gaze.

"Prejudices being what they are," Lord Carlisle said evenly, "I would not host them before Amelia is married. But afterward, I believe I would. We in parliament have much to learn from those who are rising in wealth like Mr. Gardiner. And I rather like the man."

Darcy did not believe it, but he nodded.

"You would not deign to eat at the same table as a man in trade, even if he is the owner of the enterprise and not a mere clerk?"

"Not at my own home, sir, but of course when dining in the home of another, I would be gracious."

"Gracious," the earl repeated, as though the word amused him. "I see. Well, Mr. Darcy, let us put your gracious nature to the test, shall we?"

This could not bode well for him. "My lord? "

"You humiliated Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy. She laughed it off, but I assure you she felt every bit of the shame you meant to heap upon her. And as an insult to any member of my household is also an insult to me, a mere apology will not suffice."

Darcy swallowed hard.

Lord Carlisle sat back and studied him. "I have decided that for the rest of the season, you will be Miss Elizabeth's friend."

Friend? Was the man mad? Men and women who were not related could not be friends. "I beg your pardon, Lord Carlisle?"

"Do not sound so affronted, Mr. Darcy. You will not be required to do anything that might engender gossip about a deeper connection between you. But it is clear after last night that I shall be fully occupied keeping an eye on Miss Bennet, and I am no longer a young man. Therefore, you will help me. You will be pleasant, polite, offer to dance with Miss Elizabeth should she have one of the less significant dances available when you are in company together at a ball, dine with her when there is a meal if she is otherwise without a partner. You will quietly and efficiently see to her comfort."

"My lord—"

But the earl was not finished. "And if a man you know to be of poor character approaches Miss Elizabeth, you will warn him off—you may ask your Matlock cousins to assist in that regard so that you do not draw too much attention. Most importantly, if someone inquires about her, you will have nothing but warm praise of her character to offer. In short, you will show the ton that you were wrong about Miss Elizabeth."

No matter how admirable the earl thought Miss Elizabeth, Darcy did not want to be in her company for any length of time. She bemused and discomfited him. His indignation burst out before he could control it. "Lord Carlisle, if you wish me to apologise to Miss Elizabeth, I shall. But you are asking me to give over my entire season to play nanny to your charge."

"Mr. Darcy." The words were cold and hard. "You mistake me."

"Do I, my lord?" His hope was a desperate thing.

"You do. For I am not asking."