“I fear I am an old stick, my dear,” Darcy heard Mr. Woodhouse say.
“Nonsense. At most, you are middle-aged. You ought to go, and you ought to dance.”
Mr. Woodhouse gave a long sigh.
“At Donwell, you can be sure of excellent fires and plenty of good cheer,” said Mrs. Bennet. “A little dancing, in moderation, is considered healthful.”
“Do you think so?”
“I do. And if your Mr. Perry calls tomorrow, I intend to ask him about it. I expect Mr. Perry shall agree with me.”
That scotched Mr. Woodhouse! Darcy hazarded another look. The man was gazing at her with wide eyes.
With a smile, Darcy returned to his book. Hats off to Mrs. Bennet! He had pegged her for a simpleton, but clearly the woman was no fool.
If Mr. Woodhouse could be convinced to dance, would Mrs. Bennet agree to stand up with him herself? This would require serious strategy.
However, having come so far, he and the Knightleys had no choice. They must see the thing through.
Chapter 9
George Knightley came into the bedchamber and cast his coat over the back of a chair. “How was your day at Donwell, my love?”
“Enlightening, to say the least.”
There was no mistaking the edge in Emma’s voice. Here was danger!
“Is the house not being run well?” he said mildly. “Are there things about the ball that need my attention?”
Emma faced him fully. “What have you been up to, George?”
He unfastened his neckcloth and sent it to join the coat. “Why, nothing. Mrs. Elton brought the Sucklings today, but you already know that.”
“Nothing? I do not believe that for one minute! It is laughably obvious that you have a scheme in mind, you and John.”
George worked to preserve an innocent face. “Why do you say that?”
“Mary and her mother were to act as my father’s protectors?”
“Mrs. Bennet did a capital job in fending off the formidable Mrs. Suckling. Er, as John would say.”
“Do not be obtuse. You know exactly what I mean. Your plan was to have Mary and my father spend time alone together.”
“Not alone, Emma. Never that. I must say, it was a novel experience, acting as chaperon.”
Now why had he said this?
Emma’s chin came up. “When I think,” she cried, “of how you lectured me about the evils of matchmaking! And now you are doing it yourself!”
There was no sense in denying it. “So you’ve cottoned onto that?”
“Of course I have. It would be impossible not to.”
George sat on the edge of the bed. “It is not matchmaking in the classic sense; not as a romance novel would portray it. We’ve planned no compromising situations to force a marriage or anything like that.”
“So you admit that you have planned! My poor father!”
“I think he is rather enjoying himself. They have much in common, more than we knew.”
“Papa and Mary Bennet? They have nothing in common! She is much too young!”
George choked back a laugh. “Oh, I agree. Darcy and I had a different match in mind.”
“And John. He is in on this too.”
“Well, yes. A marriage alliance was his idea in the first place.”
“Why am I not surprised? If it is not Mary Bennet, then it must be Miss Bates.”
“Actually,” said George.
Emma went on talking. “She is unfailingly kind, but no. Miss Bates would never do.”
“Right again.”
“If it isn’t Miss Bates, then—good gracious! You cannot mean Mrs. Bennet. Was that why she remained behind today? Elizabeth thinks so, but I could not agree. The idea!”
“There is always Mrs. Suckling,” George pointed out. “She, too, is a widow.”
“Oh!” cried Emma. “From what you have told me, I marvel that you can jest about such a thing!”
“Wait until you meet her. She’s worse.”
Emma took a turn about the room.
“It is not worth fretting about,” he said. “Ten to one it will not work. I said as much to Darcy.”
She whirled to face him. “Elizabeth told me that her husband was behaving suspiciously. And I knew that you were. I had no idea you could be so conniving!”
George got to his feet and moved to take Emma’s hands. “My love,” he said solemnly, “should your father marry Mrs. Bennet, consider what it could mean. Not only for us, but also for our child.”
“That we might live at Donwell? Is that what this is about? I cannot abandon my father to a miserable fate.”
“Will it be miserable? Observe your father and Mrs. Bennet together. She is a pleasant companion. Ask yourself whether your father will be well looked after.”
“I cannot see that at all. I would rather have Miss Bates, but the idea is too awful.”
“Poor Miss Bates should be lost as mistress here. Consider. For years Mrs. Bennet has run a household of similar size. She likens Hartfield to her former home at Longbourn.”
“Yes, but—”
“Furthermore, she would guard your father’s health even more devotedly than he does.”
“No one can do so more than I.”
“That is very true,” said George, “And yet, Mrs. Bennet will have a vested interest. When he passes, she will be sent packing.”
“As if John and Isabella would do such a thing!”
“She does not know that.”
“So we take advantage of her fears? George, that is dreadful.”
“Is it? Consider the outcome. If your father were content to marry again, would you be happy to live at Donwell?”
Emma’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You know I would.”
“Well then. Perhaps it is time to abandon working at cross purposes. The first obstacle—which I daresay could be insurmountable—will be to convince Mrs. Bennet that she should be the future mistress of Hartfield instead of Mary.”
“She is rather blind to that. I wonder why?”
“Darcy claims it is habit. She has dedicated her life to marrying off her daughters. By comparison, everything else is unimportant.”
Emma gave a great sigh. “Papa will never marry to please himself. He will not even think of it.”
“Then perhaps he will marry to please Mrs. Bennet; to rescue her from what he considers to be an unhappy future.”
He saw Emma smile slightly. A good sign! “You and your chivalry,” she said. “Did you marry me for a similar reason?”
“I married you to please myself. However, I did agree to live here in order to please you and your father.”
“This match could take years to accomplish, and we have only days.”
“All is not lost. According to Darcy, Mrs. Bennet has convinced your father to attend our ball.”
“George, she hasn’t!”
“Indeed she has. And also, to dance a reel.”
“Papa, dance? I cannot believe it.”
“Mind, she wants him to dance with Mary. Perhaps you and Elizabeth can come up with a way to change her mind. The three of us have reached an impasse.”
“That is hardly a surprise, given the outrageous nature of your plan.”
“This is why we need you, the more intrepid matchmakers, to take the lead.”
“If your plan did not involve Donwell, I wouldn’t.”
“Nor would I. Your father is not as indifferent to Mrs. Bennet as he pretends. Observe him closely, and you’ll see what I mean. You are right; she is quite pretty.”
“As if that matters!”