Page 10 of An Accidental Meeting
“Not that one.”
His valet held up another coat. Black. “This is the last one, sir.”
“No,” Darcy said impatiently. After a moment he added, “Show me the first again.”
The slight twitch of Simon’s left eye told Darcy he was being ridiculous, but he could not help it. He checked his watch. Would Elizabeth care which black coat he was wearing? No. She might care, however, if he was late greeting them.
His valet held out the first coat again.
“Yes,” Darcy said, resigned. “That one.”
Simons nodded, and they moved on to his cravat.
By the time Darcy arrived downstairs, he was in a fine state of nerves. His great-aunt and uncle were waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.
“You are never the last down,” his great-uncle said. He smiled mischievously at Darcy. “Pretty girl, or so I hear? About time.”
Darcy did not ask how his uncle had heard. He had a way of ferreting out information, and no matter how loyal, some servants would talk.
“Stop it, Hugh,” his great-aunt said. “He is nervous enough, cannot you see?”
Darcy immediately stopped pulling at the cuff of his coat. He ought to have chosen the second one. “I am not nervous.”
“I look forward to meeting your friends, Fitzwilliam,” his aunt said.
“I do not doubt it, for Alexander is unlikely ever to introduce us to a woman he favours, eh, Nora? Too busy with his experiments.” His uncle was not wrong.
Aunt Nora shook her head at her husband. “It is your fault, you know.”
“How is itmyfault?” Uncle Hugh cried.
Darcy heard a carriage arriving, and walked past his bickering relations to greet his guests as they stepped out of their chaise.
“Welcome, Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner,” he said, and then glanced at Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet.”
She was enchanting this evening. Not that Darcy ever thought of her as less than that. But the colour of her evening gown complemented the blush in her cheeks. It was simple yet cut so elegantly that it needed no additional embellishments. It suited her very well indeed.
“Will you introduce us, Fitzwilliam?” his aunt inquired sweetly.
“Of course.” He did the honours and was startled when his uncle scoffed.
“For heaven’s sake, Fitzwilliam,” his great-uncle said and turned to their guests. “I am Uncle Hugh, or I suppose Judge Darcy, if you wish. Less confusing for us all, for otherwise, we are Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, and Mrs. Darcy. Your guests at least have the good manners to possess different surnames.”
Darcy’s apprehension soared as he noted how startled Elizabeth and her relations were by this unexpected declaration.
His aunt chuckled. “You must forgive my husband for his informality. I fear it is a consequence of following so many rules all his life. He has become quite the eccentric. You may of course call me Honora, or Nora, as my family does. Or Aunt Nora. We do not stand on ceremony any longer, do we, Fitzwilliam?”
Darcy could feel the blush radiating from his countenance as hot as a fever. He wished to make agoodimpression on Elizabeth and her family. He had complained about the impropriety of her family only to be embarrassed by his own from the start.
He peeked at Elizabeth and was immensely relieved to note that her surprise had vanished, and her fine eyes were sparkling with amusement.
“Of course,” Elizabeth’s uncle said with a genuine smile. “We thank you for the privilege.”
Darcy relaxed somewhat, and he moved to offer Elizabeth his arm. “Miss Bennet,” he said, “I am pleased that you and your family have come.”
“It is our pleasure, Mr. Darcy,” she told him, and he thought, just for a moment, she might tease him by using his Christian name, as his aunt had done. But she did not, and he chastised himself for thinking she might. For all her good-humour, Elizabeth was never improper.
“It is only since my father died that my sister and I have been instructed to call them Uncle Hugh and Aunt Nora,” he told her. “No one else has ever been offered that privilege. I fear it may take a moment to right myself after such a display.”
