Page 51 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

“I care not, but I fancy that depends on how much value she places on my association with Lady Matlock.”

He shook his head. “Although I am grateful to have been reunited with Fitzwilliam and Georgiana and appreciate his generosity to me, the customs of London society can be exasperating, especially the importance people put on rank.”

“I could not agree more, and I should much prefer to walk here in the morning when we are least apt to encounter other people.”

“Hear, hear.”

An affable grey-haired gentleman stopped to greet Mr. Miles, who introduced the man to me, indicating the two had met at White’s.

On this and our previous visit to the park, I found amusement in the more outrageous fashions on display by the men as well as the women. I patted Mr. Miles’s arm and tipped my head to indicate the dandy who had just passed us. “Would you ever wear a cut-velvet coat like that one?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the two-toned garment. “No, never. And I can imagine what Fitzwilliam would say if I wore anything similar.”

“Miss Eliza!”

I stiffened.Miss Bingley.She and Mrs. Hurst strode our way from a perpendicular path. Both ladies wore satin dresses with matching feathered turbans. Earlier today, I had fulfilled my duty by calling at the Hursts’ house, and to my delight, the butler had declared the ladies to be away.

“It is fortuitous to see you here.” Miss Bingley tugged her sister in our direction. “I was disappointed to find I had missed your call.”

“Good day, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst.”

The ladies made their greetings between glances at Mr. Miles. I made the necessary introductions, and the Bingley sisters ogled him as one might a circus performer.

Miss Bingley posed questions to Mr. Miles designed to elicit specifics of his kinship with Mr. Darcy, but he demonstrated a masterful talent for providing gallant commentary while evading the issue.

After failing in her third attempt to cajole the information she sought from Mr. Miles, Miss Bingley directed her focus to me. “Louisa and I were puzzled to hear of your friendship with Lady Matlock, for we cannot imagine how you would ever cross paths with the exalted lady.” She removed an errant pheasantfeather the breeze had thrown in her face. “But then I recalled an enigmatic statement Charles had made the day before his wedding. He had alluded to a future connexion between Mr. Darcy and your family. Well, now I know what he meant—he anticipated a union between you and Mr.MilesDarcy!”

For heaven’s sake!“No, you are mistaken. We are friends, nothing more.”

Mr. Miles nodded. “Yes, that is true. I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Bingley, but perhaps he had in mind Miss Bennet’s close friendship withMissDarcy.”

With her lips pursed in a suppressed simper, Miss Bingley’s gaze hovered between me and Mr. Miles. “Well, I suppose that is a possibility.” She took Mrs. Hurst’s arm. “We must be on our way. Please excuse us.” Miss Bingley steered her sister away, and the pair strode off.

Mr. Miles turned to me. “Based on your familiarity with Miss Bingley, is there any hope she will not share her suspicion with everyone who will listen?”

“No, no hope whatsoever.” Gloom tinged my every syllable. Soon, the whole of London would be gossiping of my ‘romance’ with Mr. Miles.

Monday, 15 June

Gracechurch Street

Elizabeth

Lydia filled her plate from the sideboard and took a seat beside me at the breakfast table. “Good morning, everyone.”

Mrs. Perry, Aunt Gardiner, and I returned her greeting. My uncle had already gone to his warehouse. Lydia took one of the London papers and placed the periodical beside her plate.

My aunt passed me the basket of rolls. “If you do not have other plans this morning, Lizzy, I thought you might wish toaccompany the children to the park. They would love to have you with them.”

“Yes, I should like to go.” I set the bread down in front of my sister’s plate.

Without raising her sight from the newspaper, my sister grasped a roll and absently took a bite.

“Perhaps we shall play hide-and-seek or—”

Lydia’s piercing screech assaulted my ears, and I cringed. She jounced from her chair and loomed over me. “How could you? You are a sneak and…and a liar!” She threw the publication at me; it bounced from my forearm to the floor. “I hate you!” With a high-pitched shriek, she fled the room.

Mrs. Perry rose to her feet. “What in the world…? I have never seen Miss Lydia so upset.”

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