Page 99 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

Jane’s foot brushed Elizabeth’s beneath the table. It was only the lightest touch, conveying a silent question. Her sister wished to know that Elizabeth was well.

But Elizabeth did not know. She only knew that Mr. Darcy was coming to visit. Alone.

Yesterday he had been all civility and attention in Pall Mall, and it had been difficult enough to remain proper with him there. Tomorrow he would be in her aunt’s drawing room with no possibility of avoiding a real conversation.

She felt the same foolish little pang she had felt on Thursday. That is, until she remembered Miss Finch, Lady Anne, Lord Matlock, and the very sensible truth that a man might be kind and attentive without meaning anything more by it.

Across the table, Uncle Gardiner shook his newspaper straight again.

“Well,” he said, “if Mr. Darcy does not want tea, cloth, or credit, I shall leave you ladies to discover whatever it is he does want.”

Aunt Gardiner stirred her tea. “Thank you, my dear, that is very considerate.”

The post was brought in then, ending the conversation and saving her from running mad with speculation. Uncle Gardiner stacked his letters to take to his office, and Elizabeth was handed one.

It was from Mary, whose letters had become a family entertainment that nobody wished to miss.

“Do read it out if you would, Lizzy,” her aunt said.

Elizabeth broke the seal and unfolded the paper. “‘My dear sisters,’” she read. “‘The house is much as you left it. The militia are still at Meryton, but Kitty and Lydia no longer walk into town every morning upon errands no one can name.’”

“The haberdasher and the milliner will feel the loss of their pocket allowance,” said her uncle.

“‘Mamma has now told them they may not go into Meryton unless she or I accompany them. She says they are not to squander themselves upon officers who cannot support them.’”

She and Jane shared a look of surprise.

Uncle Gardiner set down his paper. “My sister has forbidden her girls to speak with the officers,” he said. “I would have paid the coach fare to see that.”

A breathy laugh escaped as Elizabeth read the next line. “‘I was as astonished to hear her say it as I am sure you are to read it. I had always understood the regiment to be Mamma’s particular field of study.’”

“Go on, Lizzy,” said Aunt Gardiner.

“‘Lydia complained at first that she was to be so restricted but then decided that none of the officers were very handsome after all. Instead, she began complaining that Mamma has changed. There she is correct, for Mamma is not herself this month, or else she is some other self I have not been introduced to. She keeps to her room until noon, and when she comes down she is gentler than I can ever recall. She and Papa sit together of an evening, and Papa reads to her. Mr. Jones has called twice and gone away looking very pleased.’”

Aunt Gardiner set down the teapot. For a moment she and Uncle Gardiner looked at one another across the toast, and something passed between them that had nothing to do with the militia. But neither of them spoke.

“Read on,” her uncle said.

Elizabeth had already read a little ahead. “‘You will hardly credit it, but she has not mentioned Mr. Collins or Mr. Bingley in a fortnight.’”

Jane looked down at Mr. Bingley’s name, and Elizabeth hurried on.

“‘I do not know what has become of my mother, but I find I rather like this version of her, and Papa too.’”

Mr. Gardiner was quiet a moment. “She was a sweet, cheerful girl, my sister,” he said, “before there were five of you and an entail to fret over. I am glad to hear a little of it has come back to her.”

“‘For your improvement, I had copied out two extracts from Mrs. More. Upon consideration, I send only one, having discovered that the copying gave me a great deal of pleasure, which is very likely the wrong reason to have done it.’”

Elizabeth laid the page down.

“Mary is coming along,” Aunt Gardiner said with satisfaction.

“Being the eldest at Longbourn has been good for her,” Elizabeth agreed.

“It has been almost three months since we came to London,” Jane said. “That is not very long at all to have made such strides. I am proud of her.”

“I think we might have Mary come to stay a while,” said Aunt Gardiner. “She has earned a little time in town, and someone really ought to persuade her that pleasure is not always the wrong reason to do a thing.”