“Nonsense. I shall meet them both. The child ought to be presented to her great-aunt more often than she is. Bring them down.”
This was not a request. Darcy sent Alice with the message.
Elizabeth appeared ten minutes later with Anne at her side. Anne’s hair was brushed, her pinafore clean, and Muffin had been left upstairs, which suggested Elizabeth had performed a small diplomatic miracle in the interveningminutes. Anne without Muffin was a concession of considerable magnitude.
“Lady Matlock, may I present Miss Bennet, Anne’s governess? Miss Bennet, the Countess of Matlock.”
Elizabeth curtsied. It was precise, unhurried, and calibrated to the exact depth required for an earl’s wife. Not too deep, which would have been servile. Not too shallow, which would have been presumptuous. Lady Matlock’s eyebrows rose a fraction.
“Miss Bennet. I have heard you are doing very well with our Anne.”
“Miss Darcy is a pleasure to teach, my Lady. She is inquisitive and bright.”
“She is a terror, Miss Bennet. Let us not pretend otherwise.” Lady Matlock’s tone was dry, but her eyes were warm. She turned to Anne, who was standing very straight beside Elizabeth, her hands clasped before her.
“Good afternoon, Anne.”
“Good afternoon, Lady Matlock. You are wearing a very fine brooch.”
Richard made a sound into his teacup. Georgiana pressed her lips together. Lady Matlock regarded her great-niece and then smiled—a real smile, one that cracked the formidable façade and revealed the woman beneath it.
“Thank you, Anne. I chose it myself.”
“Did you? I choose my own ribbons too. Papa lets me, even when Alice says they do not match.”
“A sensible policy. Matching is tedious.”
Anne beamed. She had found an ally, and she was not going to waste the opportunity. She proceeded to informLady Matlock about the current state of her education, the purpose of worms (still under investigation), and the fundamental difference between a horse portrait and a potato, which the adults in her life persisted in confusing. She delivered this report clearly, concisely, and with self-possession. She had been addressed asMiss Darcyby her governess and had risen to the title.
Lady Matlock listened. She asked two questions, both sensible. She did not interrupt or condescend. When Anne finished, she turned to Elizabeth.
“You have done well with her, Miss Bennet. She is articulate, confident, and polite. That is not an easy combination to achieve in a child of six.”
“She arrived with most of those qualities, my Lady. I merely provide the structure.”
“False modesty does not suit you, Miss Bennet. Accept the compliment.”
There was a flash of surprise in Elizabeth’s eyes, and beneath it, something fierce and grateful that surfaced for a fraction of a second before she composed herself. “Thank you, my Lady.”
Elizabeth excused them shortly after. Anne curtsied to Lady Matlock and they withdrew.
The room was quiet after the door closed. Richard reached for a biscuit and Georgiana returned to her correspondence.
Lady Matlock set her cup down and turned to Darcy.
He had been watching the door. He was entirely aware of it, and he could not stop. He became also aware that his aunt had noticed the moment he turned and found hereyes firmly set on him. His aunt’s gaze confirmed what he already feared. She was studying him with an expression that contained no surprise whatsoever, only a cool, appraising calculation. She had identified a problem and was determining its severity.
She said nothing, only picked up her teacup and sipped her tea.
Darcy felt the heat climb from his collar to his ears and understood, with a clarity that made his stomach drop, exactly how he must have appeared to her. A man who could not take his eyes off his own governess.
Richard, oblivious, reached for another biscuit. Georgiana sealed an envelope. Neither of them had seen a thing.
Lady Matlock had seen everything.
She set her cup down once more, and changed the subject to Georgiana’s wedding arrangements. Darcy sat very still in his chair, and felt the walls of his careful, scrupulous restraint crack a little further.
After another agonising hour, Richard escorted his mother back to Matlock House, and Georgiana retired to her chamber. Darcy went to the nursery after tea, ostensibly to retrieve a book he had lent Anne that morning. The book was on the shelf where he had placed it himself, four hours ago, with the specific intention of needing to retrieve it later. The depths of his own calculation disgusted him. He went anyway.