Page 57 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

Elizabeth watched the faint figures of the Wickhams for a moment as they moved farther away, then she turned back to Jane and Aunt Gardiner, and the three of them waited as Uncle Gardiner’s carriage came trundling down the street, right on time.

CHAPTER 15

Darcy had walked around the block and re-entered the house. He was now standing in the hall outside the drawing room awaiting his mother’s cue.

He met the butler’s gaze. Hewitt remained perfectly composed, but then, his years in the family’s service had given him a genius for expressing a stoic sort of sympathy.

From within, he heard the clink of his mother setting down her cup. Hewitt nodded at him, and Darcy began to walk further into his own house.

“Ah, Fitzwilliam,” his mother called as he passed the drawing room ten feet away. “How fortunate. Miss Finch has raised a point on which your opinion may be useful.”

Darcy stepped into the room just far enough that Lady and Miss Finch, who had their backs to the door, could see that he was still holding his hat and gloves.

His mother wished for him to appear as though he had only just arrived home. Which he had, he supposed.

His mother indicated the chair nearest Miss Finch, so Darcy took it. He knew who the master of this chessboard was, and it was not him.

“Miss Finch has been asking about the portraits at Pemberley,” his mother said, refilling Lady Finch’s cup.

“It was a rather specific question, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Finch, turning to him. She appeared a little embarrassed. “I simply wondered whether your family portraits still hang together.”

“They do.”

“I am glad of it.” She smiled a little at his surprise. “You see, my father re-hung his collection a few years ago—Italian pictures together, Dutch pictures together, English pictures together. I understand the principle, but we lost my grandmother in the process.”

“Lost her?”

“She used to hang between two Italian sea pieces my grandfather loved,” she said, with a rueful turn of her mouth. “He had her placed with the other English paintings, but then she was almost never visited.”

“A more ordered arrangement, but a worse result,” Darcy said.

“Precisely. I told my father that order is all well and good until it starts replacing things people love with what they hope will be admired.”

His mother looked from one of them to the other but did not speak.

“My great-grandfather hung ours,” Darcy said. “We have kept his arrangement.”

“So that all the family is together?”

“In the order that they presided at Pemberley.”

“I think that is a wonderful thing. I should say that once I complained, my father moved my grandmother back to her original place. The others he has maintained in their new ones.”

“Do you plan to remain long in town?” Darcy asked, because it was expected of him.

“Through the season. My father has accompanied us at great sacrifice to himself, for he does not like to leave home.”

His mother’s teaspoon touched the saucer once, very lightly.

“You are a Derbyshire man, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Finch continued. “Papa swears by Yorkshire and calls everything south of the Aire ‘the gardens.’ Tell me honestly. Derbyshire—gardens or country?”

“Country,” said Darcy. “Though we are not so uncivil as to object to gardens. My mother is very fond of hers.”

Miss Finch’s laugh was easy and did not require anything of him. “I shall tell my father what you have said.”

“Will you be attending the concert on Thursday next, Lady Anne?” Lady Finch asked. “They promise us Madame Catalani.”

“They promise her fee is settled,” said Miss Finch. “And I believe it is substantial. I do hope it is true and that she will sing. Her voice is quite beautiful. I heard her at the Argyll Rooms two winters ago, and although my expectations were high, she exceeded them.”