Page 12 of An Accidental Meeting
When dinner was called, Mr. Darcy’s aunt took Elizabeth’s arm. “I am delighted to have your company tonight, Miss Bennet,” the older lady said. “It has been some time since Fitzwilliam was at Pemberley, and I fear the party that arrives tomorrow is not as much to my husband’s liking as your relations seem to be.”
“My aunt and uncle are the most agreeable couple of my acquaintance,” Elizabeth said before realising that this was an insult to her parents. She pressed her lips together.
Mr. Darcy’s aunt regarded her sombrely. “I see that you censure yourself. I would not have it so, for you have only spoken the truth as you know it. Our short conversation with the Gardiners has proven them intelligent and genuine as well as agreeable. Hugh also recalls your uncle’s warehouses from his trips to town.”
Was this a slight? “My uncle has been successful in his endeavours.”
Mr. Darcy’s aunt regarded her with approval. “You are discreet as well. Very good. Will you sit by me at dinner?”
“Of course, madam.” It was a relief, to be honest, to have an excuse to sit away from the confounding Mr. Darcy.
“Aunt Nora,” the petite woman corrected her.
Elizabeth felt strange saying it. “Aunt Nora.”
“Do not concern yourself, it will become easier with time. Imagine, perhaps, that Nora is my family name.”
Elizabeth found this instruction amusing. “Is there anyone in England who uses Nora as a family name?”
Aunt Nora’s eyes lit up. “I rather doubt it. But I should prefer you call me Aunt Nora, at least when we are all at Pemberley.”
“Very well, Aunt Nora,” Elizabeth promised. It was awkward, but the woman was her hostess.
“Now,” the older woman said, “I have a few questions.”
Elizabeth’s alarm was no longer muted. “You may ask anything, of course, though I reserve the right not to answer.”
Aunt Nora laughed, a sound very near a cackle. Aunt and Uncle Gardiner glanced over at the pair of them. “Bold girl! Now I amcertainI want you seated next to me.”
Mr. Darcy stood at the other end of the table. When Elizabeth glanced up and met his gaze, she could easily read the trepidation there.
Aunt Nora turned to her again once they had been seated. “Fitzwilliam tells me you visited Rosings on several occasions when he was lately in Kent, Miss Bennet. Tell me truthfully. What was your opinion of Lady Catherine?”
That Mr. Darcy was taken aback by this direct inquiry was clear, but his uncle spoke before he could.
“What could she possibly think, Nora? Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a—”
“Hush,” Aunt Nora said, cutting the judge off abruptly. “We all know what you think. We could hardly avoid it. I am asking for Miss Bennet’s impressions.”
Uncle Gardiner was both amused and alert to any impropriety that might touch her—Elizabeth could see that his protective instincts had been engaged. And Aunt Gardiner—well, her eyes were as wide as saucers, eagerly taking it all in, no doubt to preserve every modicum of conversation in her memory to dwell upon later at her leisure.
Mr. Darcy still stood next to his chair, staring at them all as though uncertain how he had so quickly lost control of his table.
Suddenly it all struck Elizabeth as wonderfully comedic.
“Lady Catherine is a woman of many decided opinions,” she told Aunt Nora.
“Yes,” the woman said drolly. “She once suggested that Hugh ought to sit at the Old Bailey, do you recall, Hugh? She offered to speak to the Lord Chancellor about it.”
The judge grunted. “As though they were great friends when he did not even know her name. As though I wouldwishto be in London when I might be in Middlesex, where the air is cleaner and there are fewer people!”
“I see the disinclination for crowds is a family affair, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said pertly.
Mr. Darcy appeared to breathe normally again as she engaged him in teasing conversation. Finally, he sat down. “It is a habit of long standing with us, I fear, Miss Bennet. We Darcys are country men at heart.”
“You do not find country neighbourhoods confined and unvarying, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth inquired pointedly, referring to something he had said to her last autumn.
He cleared his throat, but the wicked gleam in his eye was not in the least penitent. “When I am in town, I am able to meet with friends whose country homes are scattered about the country. And of course, the best theatre, museums, and bookshops are to be found there, not to mention the superiority of the warehouses.” He addressed the Gardiners. “These benefits, you must admit, the country does not offer.”
