Page 104 of Near Pemberley

“Flowers, sir?”

“Yes. Fresh ones.”

“Very good, sir.”

He frowned slightly. “The parlour as well.”

“Of course.”

Again, he began to leave. Again, he stopped.

Mrs. Barnes lowered her eyes with admirable discipline.

“And perhaps ask Cook to prepare something suitable for midday refreshments.”

“What would you wish, sir?”

“I leave that to Cook’s judgement.” He considered. “A cake, perhaps.”

“A cake.”

“Something special. By noon.”

Mrs. Barnes’ expression remained perfectly composed. “Certainly, Mr. Darcy.”

Apparently satisfied at last, Darcy turned and left.

Mrs. Barnes listened to his retreating footsteps until they disappeared. Then she stood very still for a moment.

A nearby maid looked up curiously. “Is something wrong, ma’am?”

“Not at all.” Mrs. Barnes’ lips twitched. “It is merely that I recently received a letter from Mrs. Reynolds of Pemberley.”

The maid blinked.

“From my counterpart in Derbyshire.”

“Oh.” The maid appeared relieved.

Mrs. Barnes folded her hands. According to her, shortly before a certain young lady visited Pemberley, Mr. Darcy requested fresh flowers in several rooms, additional attention to the principal apartments, and rather more refreshments than usual.

Mrs. Barnes resumed her duties.

Nevertheless, she could not help reflecting that for a gentleman who rarely noticed flowers at all, Mr. Darcy had developed a remarkably sudden interest in them. She decided to attend to the winter garden herself. She was sure to have a good look at the ladies arriving.

***

By the time Darcy finally entered his study after Georgiana and Lydia retired, the house had settled into its usual quiet.

A fire burned low in the grate. Several candles illuminated the desk, upon which rested an accumulation of correspondence that had been awaiting his attention for days.

Darcy regarded it with resignation.

No matter how eventful life became, letters possessed an extraordinary talent for multiplying.

Taking his seat, he began sorting through them.

The first thing he sought was the latest report from the man Colonel Fitzwilliam had employed to assist in locating Wickham. Unfortunately, it contained little of value. Several names had been investigated, two promising leads had come to nothing, and Wickham himself remained as elusive as ever.