Page 6 of A Different Impression

That task complete, he realised he might be better off speaking to Darcy’s valet himself than relying on a message. He asked the housekeeper, Mrs Nicholls, where the keys to the guest rooms were kept and for the location of Darcy’s room.

Hurst went to Darcy’s room, where he found his valet.

“Marston?”

“Yes, sir,” the valet replied. “What might I do for you?”

Hurst glanced towards the corridor before lowering his voice. “I have not yet spoken to Darcy, but it may be wise for him to take his usual precautions tonight. Miss Bingley is… unsettled.”

Marston’s expression did not alter. “Mr Darcy has already anticipated the necessity, sir. I am to remain in the dressing room, and the doors have been secured.”

Hurst’s mouth twitched. “I am relieved to hear it.”

“When we stay in any house where there may be cause for caution, Mr Darcy prefers to leave nothing to chance,” Marston said evenly. “Particularly in present circumstances.”

“Very good.” Hurst nodded. “Then I shall say no more. Good night, Marston.”

“Good night, sir.”

Hurst closed the door behind him.

So, it seemed that Darcy had anticipated Caroline after all.

Somehow, that did not surprise him, given what he recalled about their last visit to Pemberley.

CHAPTER 3

Caroline Makes a Colossal Mistake

Back at the assembly rooms, Darcy had enjoyed himself as he would never have believed he could at an assembly or ball. He had been unusually sociable and had taken advantage of the many opportunities for conversation that evening. Sometimes he, Elizabeth, Bingley, and Jane talked together; other times, the couples spoke just to each other. Other members of the community had also joined them, but for much of the evening, the four were together.

The evening was coming to an end, and Bingley and Darcy danced the last set with their preferred Bennet lady. As the dance finished, Mr Darcy quietly asked Miss Elizabeth, “Might I call on you tomorrow?”

She blushed prettily and looked at him with a question in her beautiful eyes. “As much as I would like to agree, sir,” she breathed, “you do not know my Mama. Although I love her, if a gentleman called on me the day after an assembly, she would rush to conclusions and have us, in her mind, married within the week. You also danced with me twice tonight; a call tomorrow will make it even more of a certainty in her mind. It will cause much talk.”

He was stunned by her words. He had encountered many matchmaking mamas and coquettish daughters who would have liked nothing more than to rush to assumptions and gossip about his intentions. This lady, with nothing flirtatious in her manner, had been truly sincere and interesting. She drew him out of himself and was interested in more than just his status. Inheriting so early, Darcy had had multiple encounters with unscrupulous and mercenary women. Too many women only wanted what they could get from him.

This lady, however, was warning him away from calling to prevent gossip and speculation. She was truly a jewel among women. “I do not know that I would mind such speculation,” he whispered in response.

With a glance, she murmured a soft, “Then, I would be delighted, sir. But do not say I did not warn you.” And she smiled at him in such a way that he was wholly and utterly lost.

Joining the ladies outside and helping them into their carriage, Bingley and Darcy were surprised their own carriage was not yet ready. Glancing around, Darcy noticed the groom and horses and moved Bingley towards them.

“Mr Hurst sent me with the horses after Miss Bingley ordered the carriage horses unharnessed,” the groom stated.

Bingley and Darcy exchanged glances. “Why would she not send the carriage back as we requested?” Bingley wondered.

Darcy thought the same but reflected on how angry she had been when he had ignored her at the dance. He knew she desired Pemberley—not him, but his estate and his wealth—and he despised her for it. The only reason he maintained any sort of relationship with her was because of his close friendship with Bingley. He had never told Bingley about the incident at his estate last summer, but perhaps he had better. He knew Marston would sleep in his dressing room and do what he could to minimise the risk of compromise within his chambers, but outside his chambers, he still had to worry. He determined he would talk to Bingley that very night.

They mounted the horses and rode silently back towards Netherfield. Conscious of the groom’s presence, Darcy did not want to broach the subject, but as they approached the house, he roused himself out of his reflections to suggest a nightcap in Bingley’s study.

“Bingley, there is something I need to talk to you about when we get to the house,” Darcy said to his friend. “Do you still have some of that brandy Richard acquired in France?”

“That sounds ominous,” he said. “It is late, and you are asking for liquor and a talk?”

Darcy sighed. “It is serious,” he replied, glancing at the groom. “The brandy will just make it easier, although whisky would work as well.”

Bingley gave him a searching gaze but, like Darcy, glanced at the groom and wisely held his tongue.