Page 40 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

Elizabeth made a small, sceptical sound.

“Do not snort, Lizzy. It is unbecoming, particularly in a young woman who has already refused more gentlemen than most girls are ever offered.”

“I did not snort,” she protested.

Now it was Aunt Gardiner’s turn to look sceptical. “If Lady Anne wished merely to dispose of you, she has ten easier methods at hand. But she has invited you to her home four times in the past fortnight, spent three-quarters of an hour with you in my back parlour, and has already contrived to place in your path a clergyman with a reasonable independence.”

“Aunt.”

“All this suggests,” Aunt Gardiner continued, “that whatever Lady Anne is about, she is not treating you as a piece of spare furniture.”

“Then what is she doing?”

“I suspect she is learning what you like. I shall observe only that a lady of consequence is taking a very uncommon degree of trouble on our behalf. Her kindness to Jane is no ordinary compliment. Her civility to your uncle and me in Upper Brook Street has already been of real use to your uncle. And her notice of you is not a thing to be tossed aside because one proud gentleman has put you out of temper.”

“Mr. Darcy has not put me out of temper.” They stared at one another until Elizabeth acquiesced. “Very well,” she said, glancing away. “He has perhaps disturbed my tranquillity a little.”

“A tragic admission indeed, my dear. Shall I fetch the hartshorn?”

Elizabeth had to laugh a little at her aunt’s antics. “You are enjoying this.”

“I admit that I am.” Aunt Gardiner’s eyes still laughed, but her words were gentle. “You need not like Mr. Darcy. You need not think better of him than you do. But you must not be blind to the very real value of Lady Anne’s friendship. It is good for Jane, good for your uncle’s connexions, and good for you too, though you are determined to receive the benefit as if it were an insult.”

“I am not insulted.”

“No. You are only reluctant, suspicious, and prepared to be difficult.”

“That is hardly fair.”

“You will attend on Friday,” her aunt said. “You will be civil. You will answer questions about your reading, your opinions, and your family. And, should Lady Anne set you beside another Mr. Cresswell, you will not panic.”

“I did not panic with Mr. Cresswell. I was merely honest with him, which he thanked me for.”

“Elizabeth, I know you are perfectly capable of making polite conversation. That is what I shall expect of you on Friday or whenever Lady Anne introduces you to another gentleman.”

“And what shall I do if this hypothetical gentleman mistakes my civility for encouragement?”

“My dear niece,” Aunt Gardiner said, “you have declined to give two men the rest of your life. I think you may safely decline to give another the rest of your evening.”

Elizabeth tried to be indignant, but it came out very much like amusement. “So,” she said at last, “I am to spend my winter being charming to gentlemen I have no intention of marrying.”

“Yes.”

“For Jane’s sake.”

“Partly.”

“For Uncle’s business.”

“Certainly.”

“For my own advantage, which I am too obstinate to perceive.”

Her aunt smiled. “Now you begin to understand me.”

Elizabeth let out a pained little laugh. “Very well. I shall attend with you all on Friday.”

“And be the charming woman we all know.”