The innkeeper appeared confused. “I’m sorry, sir?”
“My horse?”
“I beg your pardon, sir — I thought the servant called it by another name. Charleybane.”
“A bay?”
“With a white blaze, and a scar.”
Mr. Crawford issued an exasperated gasp. “Admiral Davidson sent the wrong mount.”
“I don’t know anything about it, sir, only that your horse is in the stable and a visitor waits for you below.”
“I am not expecting anybody. Who wishes to see me?”
“Mrs. Rushworth.”
“He is the most horrible flirt that can be imagined. If your Miss Bertrams do not like to have their hearts broke, let them avoid Henry.”
“You need not trouble yourself,” Mr. Crawford said to Darcy as they descended the stairs.
“Lady Catherine requested that I accompany you.”
“Ah. From my initial encounter with my new mother-in-law, I apprehend that it would cost you more trouble to refuse. Tell me, so that on future occasions I might better perform the role of a model son, do the members of this family always obey her ladyship’s orders?”
“I comply when it suits my interests to do so.”
“And at present, it suits your interests to play nursemaid? If you offer me a sweet, I promise not to misbehave.”
“At present, I wish to see my cousin restored to her mother’s good will, which is more easily accomplished if Lady Catherine can be assured of your reliability.”
“That suits my interests also. Very well, monitor this meeting with Mrs. Rushworth if doing so will prove my devotion to Anne, though I hardly require a chaperone. I have no idea what motivates Maria’s call, but I can state with certainty that we will not be arranging any sort of tryst.”
Darcy was not quite so certain. His faith in Mr. Crawford was provisional, the elopement having prejudiced him to a degree not easily mitigated. Upon reaching the parlor, however, he was more inclined to accept Crawford’s pledge on the likelihood of renewing an
The room was empty save for one well-dressed couple. The lady wore a tall hat, short gloves, and one of the most forbidding countenances Darcy had ever beheld. Flinty eyes penetrated the creases of a visage which had looked upon the world for at least threescore years. Was this truly the face that had launched a thousand ships? At nine-and-twenty, Anne must have seemed a debutante by comparison.
“Your friend is more… mature… than I anticipated,” Darcy said.
“That is not Maria. It is her mother-in-law.”
The much younger gentleman, whom Darcy took to be Maria’s husband, was tall and broad, and might have cut an impressive figure were his frame not weighted by evidence of an abundant table. Darcy guessed him to be of similar years to himself, but the unnatural roundness of his features made his age difficult to judge with greater precision.
Mrs. Rushworth regarded Henry with disdain. “So it is true. You had the effrontery to return to Mansfield.”
“Believe me, madam, I find myself here entirely by accident.”
“I have seen how you conduct yourself, Mr. Crawford. Nothing you do occurs by accident.”
Her gaze shifted to Darcy. She silently assessed him, betraying no hint of the opinion she formed. “Whoever your companion is,” she said to Crawford, “I would caution him against continuing to associate with a gentleman who repays trust with treachery.”
“And if he is married, I hope he knows to keep you away from his wife,” Mr. Rushworth added.
“Mr. Darcy, I am sure, appreciates your caveats, but he need have no anxiety on either of those points. Have you additional advice to offer him, or is the remainder of your business with me?”
“Most assuredly with you. Perhaps he could withdraw whilst the three of us discuss respect for what belongs to others.”
“I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the subject.” Henry turned to Darcy. “Pray excuse us.”
Darcy welcomed the dismissal. He had just endured one conversation between Henry Crawford and an incensed mother-in-law, and did not care to witness another, let alone one with the added fuel of a betrayed husband. He could predict the course of their dialogue. They wanted the satisfaction of voicing their indignation, and it would matter little whether Mr. Crawford attempted to placate them or silently subjected himself to the tirade. Darcy left them to air their grievances and sought out the far more desirable company of his wife.
He found Elizabeth in their room. Though he wished he were coming upon her in their chamber at Pemberley, after a week of exhausting travel under even more exhausting circumstances, he was glad she was in Mansfield. He never liked to be separated from her for long. He drew her toward him.
“Now that we are alone I can greet you properly.”
She smiled. “Or improperly.”
At present he would settle for a kiss. “You left Lily-Anne well?”
“Yes. Her new tooth is growing in quite nicely. She should give Mrs. Flaherty no trouble now that they are home, and I expect we will be able to join them there soon.”
“Meanwhile, you have abandoned Anne to Lady Catherine?”
“Your cousin pleaded a headache and asked everybody to leave so that she might sleep. Had she not, I myself might have pleaded a headache.”
“Did my aunt submit to Anne’s request?”
“Knowing her to be ever protective of Anne’s health, what do you suppose?”
“I expect she chased you and Colonel Fitzwilliam from the chamber, then remained to dull Anne’s pain with heavy remonstrances.”
“Such seemed her plan, but it was thwarted by the colonel, who suggested she remove to her own chamber to make notes in preparation for the solicitors’ arrival. She is now, I believe, happily occupied in planning the best means by which Anne’s children can eventually inherit Rosings without its ever falling under Mr. Crawford’s control, while at the same time ensuring that Anne and her descendents are irrevocably established as the sole heirs to Everingham.”
“The latter may require some persuasion. One cannot know the future, and while no bridegroom wants to contemplate the possibility of becoming a widower, a gentleman of integrity and foresight would wish to provide for all of his children, including those of a second wife should he marry more than once. The matter of Rosings, on the other hand, should prove a fairly ordinary arrangement for Lady Catherine’s solicitor to draw up. It is already held in trust for Anne, with her ladyship and two of Sir Lewis’s brothers as trustees.”
“But will her solicitor draft the documents with the proper spirit of contempt for Anne’s husband? Infuse her last will and testament with sufficient invectives to enable her ladyship to continue chastising Mr. Crawford from beyond the grave? These finer points require her direct oversight.” She opened her reticule, which had been lying on the bed, and withdrew a fan. “This room is stifling. The recent rain did nothing to banish the summer heat.”
The day was indeed hot. Darcy opened the window to admit a light breeze. He had closed it earlier because it overlooked the inn’s main entrance, and the sounds of coaches and patrons’ voices carried. A fine carriage that he presumed belonged to the Rushworths yet waited below.
“Tell me more of Mr. Crawford,” Elizabeth said. “By now you have spent sufficient time with the gentleman to have formed an opinion of him.”
He came away from the window. “Actually, I do not know that I have. He is intelligent and amiable, and
