The Gracechurch Street party spent the rest of the day walking on mild and undemanding hills, rehearsing, as Mr Hayward had it, for their grand excursion. As they marched down green paths and strolled along the banks of fast-flowing becks, Mary applied herself to studying Mr Hayward’s behaviour, attempting, in the most disinterested way, to gauge the warmth of his feelings for her. She did all she could to be sceptical; but everything about his bearing suggested the strongest attachment – his conversation, his smiles, his many considerate attentions. When he presented her with a sprig of honeysuckle to wear in her hat, she thought the matter settled. Gradually, the uncertainties raised in her mind by Mrs Gardiner’s words ebbed away. Mary did not think her hopes would be deferred, or not for very much longer; she had every reason to believe Mr Hayward would declare himself before they went back to London.
The walkers took best advantage of the fine weather to be out for most of the day; so it was not until they came down to dinner that they finally found themselves in the company of Mr Ryder and his companions. When they entered the inn’s public room, Mr Ryder, who had clearly been waiting for them there, rushed to greet them. He first approached Mrs Gardiner, to beg forgiveness for his presumption.
‘Madam, I must apologise for intruding upon you in this way – but really, there was no help for it. The prospect of seeing you all here – in this illustrious place – was too strong to be resisted. My only hope is that we might add to your pleasure – or at least not materially diminish it.’
‘I am sure that would be impossible,’ she replied evenly. Pleased, Mr Ryder turned his brilliant smile on Mary.
‘I cannot imagine, Miss Bennet, that when we last met in Cheapside, you expected to see me again so quickly. But once you had put the idea of the Lakes into my head, I could not dislodge it. So here we are; and from what I have seen so far on our journey, it has all been worth it.’
He was so eager to please, that it required real effort to resist his enthusiasm.
‘And, Tom, what about you? I must ask your indulgence too.’ He seized Mr Hayward’s hand, and shook it robustly. ‘I hear you have won a famous victory in the courts – that you carry all before you in legal world – I cannot say I am surprised – I expected no less – but I am very glad of it and offer my heartiest congratulations.’
Mr Hayward thanked him, a little self-conscious at the exuberance of his friend’s praise. ‘But really, Will,’ he continued, ‘what are you about? Three hundred miles is a long way to come on a whim, especially on roads such as those hereabouts.’
‘I should not call it a whim,’ declared Mr Ryder, ‘for that makes it seem like a foolish indulgence. No – I should prefer to think of it as inspired decisiveness. The idea occurred – I acted upon it – and my wish was instantly gratified.’
‘Do you always pursue what you want with such vigour?’ asked Mary.
‘Invariably,’ replied Mr Ryder.
‘Will believes anything is to be had by asking for it,’ laughed Mr Hayward.
‘Nothing ventured, Tom, nothing gained. I’m sure you have heard that said before.’
‘Indeed I have, mostly by you.’
Mary watched the two young men talking with the easy facetiousness of an old friendship, until Mr Ryder announced that he had taken the liberty of ordering dinner for them all. He had bespoke the best dishes the inn had to offer – a good joint of beef and cheesecakes to follow – and very much hoped that would please. When he saw that it did, he shepherded them to a small private room, where a long table was set with a clean white cloth, behind which sat, rather stiffly, the other members of Mr Ryder’s party, looking a little less delighted with their situation than their affable host.
‘You will remember Mr and Mrs Hurst, I trust,’ declared Mr Ryder, as they entered the room. ‘And Miss Bingley, of course?’
Mary was apprehensive as the necessary formalities were exchanged. She and Miss Bingley had parted on very bad terms after Mr Ryder’s supper; and she could not be sure how much resentment that lady would now choose to display. Mary hoped there would be no open snub, for then her aunt would notice, and explanations would be required. Miss Bingley looked as she always did, perfectly dressed and as imposing as ever. Her eyes swept over Mary with her usual assessing air, as though she had not yet resolved exactly how to treat her; then, having made up her mind, she favoured her with a cool nod.
So that was how it would be, thought Mary. A pretence of politeness, but no outward breach. That was a relief.
‘I hope your journey northwards was not too trying,’ she began, intending to convey her own willingness to make no reference to what had passed between them. ‘It is a long way to come; but the beauties of the country make it more than worthwhile.’
‘It was no trouble to me,’ replied Miss Bingley. ‘I have long wished to see the place that gave birth to such magnificent verse. A few inconveniences along the way are a small price to pay.’
‘Do you read poetry, then? I did not know you cared for it.’
‘It is a passion I share only with my friends.’
Miss Bingley looked over Mary’s head and stared about the room as if hoping to discover some more interesting person with whom to converse. Briefly, she caught Mr Ryder’s eye, favouring him with a charming smile which vanished when she turned back to Mary.
‘As soon as Ryder mentioned this trip, I told him he could not be allowed to go alone. My desire to see the Lakes was quite as strong as his own and must be gratified. He straightaway declared he should not think of leaving without me – and Mr and Mrs Hurst, of course.’
‘That must have been very pleasing.’
‘Yes, but I was not surprised. Mr Ryder has often said he never enjoys an excursion if I am not amongst the party.’
‘Well,’ replied Mary evenly, ‘I hope you will both find much to please you here. We have already seen many very fine views. And the boat trip upon the lake at Grasmere is not to be missed. I can’t remember when I saw something quite so lovely.’
‘It sounds perfect for people with mild, comfortable tastes. But I hope to see something rather more exciting. I have no wish to confine myself to the usual sights.’
‘I think you will find’, said Mary, determined not to rise to Miss Bingley’s provocations, ‘that even the more familiar prospects have much to recommend them. I have yet to see anything I haven’t admired. Everything has delighted me.’
‘I’m sure it has,’ murmured Miss Bingley, making no effort to disguise her desire to bring their conversation, such as it was, to an immediate end. ‘Anyway – unless you have any suggestions of the wilder, untamed variety to offer – you know the sort of thing – I think I will go and see if anything in that line has yet occurred to Mr Ryder.’
Before Mary could reply, Miss Bingley drifted away to the other side of the room, stationing herself as close to Mr Ryder as propriety would allow. Once she was gone, Mr Hayward appeared at Mary’s side.
‘It is neither polite nor generous of me to say so, but I’m afraid I don’t care much for Miss Bingley.’
‘She is not very agreeable,’ admitted Mary. ‘At least she has never been so to me.’
‘She affects a very superior air. I shouldn’t be surprised if she ordered me to bring her another glass of wine or fetch her cloak. I don’t think she considers me worth the effort of good manners.’
‘To win her good opinion,’ Mary mused, ‘you would need to be in possession of at least ten thousand pounds a year. She would not look at you without it.’
A servant entered, bearing several bottles, which he placed one by one on the sideboard. The room, which was small, now began to feel crowded. Mary and Mr Hayward were obliged to move into a corner to carry on their conversation, which he seemed keen to continue.
‘And what about you, Miss Bennet?’ he asked. ‘Do you feel the same? Do you think marital happiness depends on a healthy deposit in the bank?’
‘Lizzy used to say it was only when she first caught sight of Pemberley that she realised how much she loved Mr Darcy.’
She had hoped to make him smile; but his face fell and Mary saw she had misjudged his mood.
‘She meant it as a joke, of course. If you saw them together, you’d understand the impossibility of thinking otherwise. His wealth – his elevated situation – well, it is a long story, but neither had anything to do with the love she felt for him.’
Mr Hayward did not appear convinced.
‘I imagine there are few women with sufficient strength of character to be entirely indifferent to the promise of a great house and a vast income.’
‘And few men either,’ retorted Mary, a little vexed now to hear her sex disparaged, even by Mr Hayward. ‘I have not observed any reluctance amongst male suitors to carry off an heiress if they can.’
Mr Hayward’s severe expression melted and he laughed.
‘No, you have me there. Men certainly cannot claim the high ground in these matters. But I must admit to some envy, for those amongst us who are so startlingly well provided for. I am afraid I shall never be such a catch as Mr Darcy and the famous grounds of Pemberley.’
‘There may indeed be some women for whom that would be a consideration,’ said Mary quietly. ‘But I promise you, Mr Hayward, not all of us think in such a way.’
She looked at him expectantly and thought he seemed about to speak – when suddenly the dining room door was pushed open, and the innkeeper strode through, carrying the beef under a tremendous covered dish. Two maids followed behind, bearing plates of vegetables and a large jug of gravy. As everyone made their way to the table to begin upon their supper, Mary knew there was no chance now of hearing Mr Hayward’s response to her words.