Chapter Six

D arcy had entered Hatchard's a quarter of an hour before. It was the first time he had left his house for anything beyond his club, the bank, and the solicitor since meeting with Lord Carlisle almost a fortnight before. If possible, he would have remained at Darcy House the rest of the season, but he had been lured out today, at a rather early hour, in the hopes of securing a new copy of The Lady of the Lake , his own having been pilfered by Fitz. Once inside Hatchard's, he had allowed himself to be distracted by the many new volumes on the shelves, but the young boy's dismay had carried across the floor of what was, at the moment, a nearly empty shop. He had listened to the conversation very carefully, hearing enough to understand that the lad required books for his schooling, and Darcy was about to motion to the clerk to put the shortfall on his account when his movement had been arrested by a familiar head of black curls atop a slender figure. His height allowed him to observe her as she handed back one book of three but left her entire payment and then some with the clerk.

The woman was a curious creature. According to his cousin, she had twenty-thousand pounds, but here she was, picking shillings out of her reticule like a miser. And yet she was not a miser at all, for she had handed one of her own books back to purchase a mathematics text for a schoolboy she did not know.

He liked to think that his sister Georgiana would have done the same. She was a sweet girl and sensitive to the plight of others. But she would not have been required to sacrifice a book she had selected in order to do it. Georgiana could use the Darcy account at nearly any establishment she might have a desire to visit. It would not have been an inconvenience in any way for her, not the way it apparently was for Miss Elizabeth. Yet she had handed the tome back without hesitation.

And now she had nearly knocked him over. Darcy was certain he detected vexation in her stance, though she was to blame for their collision.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said. "Good morning."

"I see you are also fond of Hatchard's," she said, though he had been so busy watching her interactions that he had yet to find the book he had come to seek.

"How do you know that I am fond of Hatchard's?" he asked, just to see whether the spark of impertinence he had experienced from her the night of the Ashfords' ball had been unusual or was instead a part of her character. "I might have been sent here on behalf of one of my cousins."

One slim eyebrow arched at his suggestion. "Do your cousins often use you as an errand boy?"

He shook his head, attempting to quell his sudden offence. "Of course not."

Her nod was satisfied. "As I thought. You willingly sought out a bookshop this morning, likely in pursuit of something to add to your library. It may not mean that you are fond of this particular shop, I suppose. Are you like so many of the ton and come here only because it is well- known?"

Perhaps this had not been a good idea. Her impertinence was even sharper than it had been. "I come to this shop because it stocks books nearly as soon as they are printed."

She nodded. "Thus, you prove my thesis, sir. You are an avid reader, for you must have the books that interest you as soon as they are available. And it follows, that if you are an avid reader, you would be fond of a good bookshop. Hatchard's is a very good bookshop. Ergo, you are fond of Hatchard's."

How had she turned such a banal remark into a debate? She was exhausting, and he was done. "Indeed, you have found me out, madam."

"Mr. Darcy," Miss Hamilton called. "Good morning to you."

He offered Miss Hamilton a bow, suddenly realising he had not done so for her friend.

"Elizabeth and I have been savouring the delights of a well-stocked bookshop this morning." Indeed, she held several volumes in her hands. "If you are able to accompany us, we are for Gunter's next."

He almost offered a polite refusal, for he had not meant to remain out so long. But he had no pressing engagements, and the command of the earl could not be ignored when he had been in hiding since the Ashfords' ball. He was to be a friend to the quarrelsome Miss Elizabeth, and he supposed it was best to bow to his fate. Being invited by Miss Hamilton to join them for tea was innocent enough.

Darcy glanced over at the rather distinctive footman standing at the door, a man he recognized as belonging to the earl's household, and who would certainly offer Lord Carlisle a report of his behaviour.

"I would be pleased to meet you there," he said to Miss Hamilton. Movement in the street near the pavement caught his eye, and he noted that his carriage had returned for him. He would return to the shop some other time to seek his book. "Shall I travel ahead to secure a table? "

"That would be very kind of you, Mr. Darcy," Miss Hamilton said politely. "We will not be long."

He bowed to them both this time and turned to depart. The last thing he heard as the door swung closed behind him was Miss Hamilton exclaiming, "Mr. Abernathy, that novel is exactly the one Elizabeth has been wishing to read! Please put it on my account."

Elizabeth walked into Gunter's a half step behind Amelia, who had already spotted Mr. Darcy standing by a table near the back of the establishment.

"I ordered tea," he said as he welcomed them both. "The air is rather biting today."

It was, in fact, the coldest January Elizabeth could recall, and she was glad to have something warm to drink awaiting her as she sat down. It was thoughtful of Mr. Darcy, though perhaps he had simply wished for tea as well.

"Do you think the rain shall turn to snow?" Amelia was asking Mr. Darcy.

"I would not doubt it," he replied easily. "But the real trouble shall be the ice."

So he was capable of polite conversation. Why could he not be polite with her? Elizabeth focused her attention on her tea and the cake that was brought over a few moments later. She had a moment of panic when she recalled her empty coin purse, but surely Mr. Darcy would pay for their tea. He had been the one to order, and whatever else she might think about him, the man did care for appearances. Still, when he inquired whether she or Amelia wished for anything else, she demurred .

Amelia, however, did request another pot of tea and, with a wink at Elizabeth, lemon marzipan. Elizabeth did not hesitate to avail herself of both when they were offered. When her friend eventually rose to ask Laramie to watch for the carriage, Mr. Darcy leaned slightly forward.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said, his voice lowered but not so quiet that anyone would accuse him of saying something inappropriate, "please do not think I wish to disparage your kind act earlier, but I suggest you not use coins for any significant purchases while in town."

Annoyed that he would find something in her behaviour this morning to criticise, she pitched her voice to meet his own. "And why is that, sir?"

"Because, madam, most refined ladies do not use coins when they shop in the better establishments unless the purchase is very small. They have accounts at the bank and lines of credit with the merchant."

Elizabeth knew this was not entirely true, for she had seen refined ladies in her aunt's circle use coins when shopping, but she recalled Mr. Abernathy's surprise at her wishing to pay for her books and thought perhaps ladies of the ton were different. "Most but not all?"

"I say most because I know you to be a refined lady, Miss Elizabeth, and yet you used coins to make your purchase."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "A guinea and five shillings, Mr. Darcy. It was hardly as though I turned over my reticule and shook it out."

His frown told her Mr. Darcy felt that it had not been far off.

"It is not only your own reputation you may injure, Miss Elizabeth."

This truly was beyond enough. "I assure you that my sister—"

"I meant the earl."

That brought her up short.

"You are a member of his household for as long as you remain with him, and when a guest of his uses shillings in a Mayfair shop it does not reflect well on him. If you truly wish to use ready money for a small purchase, it ought to be in tokens, not gold and silver, for those are needed for the war."

She had not known that. Papa had paid them their pocket allowances in coins, and she and Jane had hoarded them against the day they would be in London for the season. "Very well," she acquiesced. "I shall remember that." She would, however, confirm this with the countess. Why would women net purses for their coins if they never meant to carry them?

Amelia returned in time for Mr. Darcy to help her into her cloak. He turned to Elizabeth next, which she had not expected. Still, she allowed him to place the cloak around her shoulders, and as she reached up to tie it closed, she smelled sandalwood, bergamot, orange, and a kind of musk. It was unfair that such a vexing man should smell so lovely.

Mr. Darcy escorted her and Amelia to their carriage, followed by Laramie, who held an umbrella over them. They were soon inside, and Elizabeth looked back at Mr. Darcy. He stood in the rain, watching their coach prepare to depart. She had to admit that he appeared elegant and commanding in his greatcoat and beaver.

"He is very handsome," Amelia said.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, still looking. "It is a terrible shame he is so unpleasant."

Amelia made a little humming sound that was irritatingly neutral. If her friend liked the man, Elizabeth would simply have to put up with him.

As their carriage pulled away from the pavement into the stream of other conveyances in the road, Mr. Darcy strolled to a large black coach a few doors down from Gunter's and stepped inside.

Then they were turning the corner, and she lost sight of him.