Page 30 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

And then there had been the ball, where he recollected that he had left her before the set was finished and had not slept that night.

He had not slept particularly well since.

No, he would never forget Miss Elizabeth, but he had lost any chance with her. Against that torment, his mother’s proposed parties would be nothing. Except that she had said she would be inviting Bingley. And Miss Bennet. Which meant that her sister would be invited too.

Darcy reached for the decanter.

CHAPTER 8

Elizabeth had spent a good deal of time working out why she was uneasy about this evening. Mr. Bingley wished to see Jane, that much was obvious. That he had asked Lady Anne to include the Bennet sisters in his invitation to Darcy House was perfectly natural. He had also requested the Gardiners be allowed to attend which was, while unusual, not surprising, given his affability and his own connections to trade.

What she could not fathom was that Lady Anne Darcy had agreed.

Aunt Gardiner had spoken of the Darcys with warmth when the invitation arrived. Lambton had its own view of Pemberley’s inhabitants, and she had remarked more than once in the past three weeks that the family was known for its liberality. While the Darcys would probably not seat a blacksmith at their table, a well-dressed merchant of education and capital, with a wife from a respectable family in Derbyshire, was not beneath their notice.

It was not a habit universally admired in town. Some of the older houses, her aunt had said, would not have Lady Anne over their threshold on the principle of it; others would not have minded upholding the principle, but found themselves obliged to receive her anyway. No London matron with children to marry off forfeited an invitation Lady Anne Darcy had taken the trouble to extend, and therefore it would not do to offend her.

This portrait of the Darcys did not sit easily with Elizabeth’s impression of Mr. Darcy. Her opinion of him, formed in Hertfordshire, remained tolerably unflattering, and his visit to Gracechurch Street had done little to alter it. A young man who was so plainly persuaded of his own consequence must, she thought, have learned it at home.

But that was not what her aunt had claimed, so her account must be incomplete.

“You are very quiet, Lizzy,” her aunt said.

“I have been pondering my opinion of our hostess with the evidence available to me.”

“That is admirably industrious of you. And what opinion have you arrived at?”

“That I am not in possession of enough information.”

“Wise, Lizzy,” her uncle said with a chuckle. “Sketching someone’s character is dangerous enough when you do so upon a first meeting. You would not wish to have arrived at a conclusion about Lady Anne before we have even set foot in her hall.”

Elizabeth smiled. “That is fair, Uncle.”

“Lady Anne is very kind to include us, Lizzy,” her aunt said as a warning. “Please, keep your conclusions in reserve until we are home again.”

Elizabeth was embarrassed that she had given her aunt reason to suspect that she might not. “Of course, Aunt.”

Jane was not listening to any of them. She seemed both anxious and pleased, and Elizabeth was very grateful to Lady Anne for offering her sister this opportunity to meet with Mr. Bingley in company. Perhaps she ought to begin her assessment there.

The carriage slowed as it came round the square.

“There it is,” her aunt said, nodding at the house where two footmen in the dark blue, silver-braided livery stood between two lamps at the gate. There was light in every window of the house visible from the street.

Elizabeth glanced at her sister.

Tonight, Jane would observe Mr. Bingley in his London circle, which she had not yet done. Whatever she determined by the end of the evening, if anything had been determined at all, Elizabeth meant to be of use to her. Whether Jane decided she could love Mr. Bingley well enough to marry him or decided instead that what she had felt at Netherfield could not survive a London drawing room, Elizabeth would be with her to assist.

Elizabeth decided that she could like Lady Anne Darcy perfectly well, even if Lady Anne’s son did not like her. Lady Anne was her own person, and Elizabeth would judge the woman on her own merits, without reference to the son.

The carriage pulled up to the house and stopped. The door opened, and when it was Elizabeth’s turn, she stepped down. She took one more look up at the impressive house, lifted her chin, and followed her family up the walk.

Two additional footmen received cloaks and pelisses inside the entrance, and a butler stationed just inside the drawing room relayed their names ahead of them as they entered.

“Mr. Gardiner. Mrs. Gardiner. Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

The drawing room into which they were shown had been arranged for the comfortable accommodation of some thirty people. There were, by Elizabeth’s rapid count, closer to twenty in attendance. Lady Anne, whom Elizabeth recognised at once though she had never seen her before, stood near the centre of the room. She was tall, like her son, but slender and fair. She and Miss Darcy shared their looks.

Lady Anne moved towards them.