Tapestry of Lives ~ Section XIII

    By Jean M.

    Beginning, Previous Section, Section XIII, Next Section

    Chapter 41. A Taste of the Ton.

    Posted on 2011-09-13

    October 1818

    The unusual sound of the Master's footsteps clattering down the marble stairs like a schoolboy echoed through Derwent House. Mr. Darcy smiled to himself--he could not remember feeling so carefree in all his adult years, and he was certainly happier than one would expect of a new husband who had just been banished from his wife's rooms.

    He had left Elizabeth with Madame Lavoisier and a small cadre of seamstresses and maids. Lizzy had refused to let him see her in the gown they were fitting for the Matlock ball, but he had managed to draw the modista aside and question her with regard to appropriate ornamentation. At his inquiry, the petite Frenchwoman's usually serious face became wreathed in smiles.

    "Madame does not wish you to see her in the gown until the ball, but I shall show you a sketch."

    The drawing had been enough to make his heart race and the swatches of deep red silk had instantly inspired him. After a few further questions, he was off to visit the bank and the jeweler, among other errands.

    Miss Bingley had not underestimated the value of the Darcy family jewels, but its content would not have matched her fevered daydreams. The Darcys were among the oldest of England's old families and, regardless of the variation in personalities that distinguished their generations, all had favored quality over ostentation. Even the most old-fashioned of the settings had gems of such clarity and colour capable of making a jeweler weep.

    William descended from his carriage on Threadneedle Street and climbed the steps to the Bank of England with a light tread. He paused for a moment in the rotunda but, before he could truly appreciate John Sloane's architectural feat, he was approached by a tall, rail-thin man with a set of wire-rimmed spectacles perched on a beaky nose.

    "Mr. Darcy, it is good to see you, sir," said the elderly banker in a whispery voice.

    "Mr. Binns, thank you for making time for me on such short notice," responded William respectfully. The older man had handled the Darcy family's accounts for longer than William had been alive.

    The pair turned toward the stairs that would take them down to the vault. "May I congratulate you on your marriage, sir?" William's immediate smile left the banker blinking in surprise.

    "Thank you, Binns. In fact, that is my purpose here, today. I wish to retrieve a few items for my wife." His pride in referring to that lady's new title was obvious enough to make Mr. Binns' lips twitch.

    "Of course, sir. I took the liberty of having the appropriate items from your family's collection set out in one of our private rooms."

    Even Darcy, accustomed as he was to a lifetime's service by an army of servants, was left blinking at the man's prescience. Before he could think of how to respond, however, he was shown into a small, well-lit room with a large oak table upon which were set out a series of lockboxes.

    "You have the keys?"

    William nodded, retrieving a small key ring from an inner pocket of his coat.

    Binns nodded approvingly. "Very well, sir. If there is anything further you need, do not hesitate to ring."

    With that, Darcy was left alone. After a moment of consideration, he moved along the table, sorting through the keys and opening each box in turn. Even though some of the velvet trays were faded, the rainbow of jewels that they revealed sparkled as if lit from within.

    Many of the pieces William recognized as having been worn by his mother or grandmother, but there were others which he doubted had seen daylight in a century. Never had he seen the entire collection together and for a moment he simply stood, taking it all in. Darcy knew that he occasionally took his wealth for granted, but faced with such a sight, it was impossible not to reflect upon how blessed he was. He silently vowed to do everything in his power to preserve the legacy for his own children… and to ensure that they appreciated the good fortune of their birth.

    Returning his attention to the task at hand, William gently extracted an exquisite diamond necklace set with twelve flawless, crimson rubies. He had not seen them in nearly twenty years, but they were instantly recognizable as the jewels gracing not a few of the portraits in Pemberley's gallery.

    He knew that this was not the sort of adornment that the former Miss Bennet would have chosen for herself--a fact that was amusing in itself given the number of women who had thrown themselves at him over the years for just that right--but nor had William needed his aunt to take him aside after lunch and suggest that Elizabeth wear the Darcy rubies to the Matlock ball. Once he had recovered from the shock of discovering just how large the gathering was to be, William had quickly seen the sense in Elizabeth's comment that they might as well expose themselves to as much of Society as possible in one night, rather allow the gossips' curiosity to simmer all winter.

    The new Mrs. Darcy would not be presented at court until spring, but her presentation at the Matlock ball would be equally (if not more) important. William was not above draping her in his family's most priceless jewels to bias the opinions of those who cared about such things.

    After a moment of consideration, William also chose out a delicate lavaliere necklace with matching pearl drop earrings that had belonged to his mother before her marriage. He thought that they would suit his sister and Elizabeth had suggested that Georgiana might appreciate having something of Lady Anne's to wear. Although Miss Darcy would not be allowed to dance, he had agreed that she (accompanied by Mrs. Annesley) might observe the opening of the ball.

    At first, he had resisted Elizabeth's suggestion, disliking the idea of exposing his sister to Society any sooner than he had to and arguing that Georgie would not wish to be part of such a crush unless it was absolutely necessary. Wisely, Lizzy had suggested that he inquire to his sister as to her preference, and William could not have been more surprised at the excited squeal that resulted. Not for the first time, he was uncomfortably reminded that his baby sister was growing into a young lady and developing likes and dislikes quite independent of his own. Once again, he thanked his lucky stars that they would both have Elizabeth beside them during the trying times to come.

    With that in mind, he chose out several other pieces before ringing the bell to recall Mr. Binns. The man appeared so quickly that Darcy wondered if he had been standing just outside the door.

    "Mr. Binns, I should like to have these pieces couriered to Garrards', this morning if possible."

    "Of course, sir."

    After a few more words and a last look at this stunningly tangible proof of his family's wealth, William was off. In short order, his carriage was stopping on Panton Street and he stepped into the rarefied confines of one of the most exclusive jewelers in London.

    "Mr. Darcy, sir, how good to see you again! Are you looking for anything in particular?" Although of a similar age to Mr. Binns, Mr. Garrard was as different in physical appearance as could be imagined.

    William summarized his morning's activities to the short, plump man and the jeweler agreed eagerly. "Yes, yes, of course! We shall have the pieces cleaned and check all the settings to be sure that none are loose. My son and I shall do the work ourselves."

    Once the arrangements were made, Darcy yielded to the urge to wander around the display cases. In the end, he could not resist an intricate silver hair clip made to look like a lacy fan as large as a child's hand, set with precious gems that he could easily imagine sparkling against Elizabeth's dark curls.

    While Mr. Darcy was contemplating such matters as might promote his wife's personal pleasure, she was dealing with a task that affected her public persona but was also of a most personal nature; namely, the hiring of a lady's maid. Elizabeth had gently canvassed Sally and it had not taken long to discover that the ambition for the girl to become Mrs. Darcy's personal servant could more rightly be attributed to the maid's aunt, Mrs. Wilkins. It took little pressing for Sally to blushingly admit that her own ambitions lay with the son of the baker who supplied most of Derwent House's pastries.

    Once this was established, Mrs. Wilkins was called in and the facts laid out before her. Having no children of her own, the housekeeper's enthusiasm for her niece's potential nuptials (after being assured of the young man's honorable intentions) was very great. In short order, it was established that Sally would continue to serve Mrs. Darcy until she was no longer needed and would then return to her former position as an upstairs maid until she and young Bobby were ready to wed.

    While Elizabeth was very glad to see Sally's situation resolved, she was not looking forward to interviewing candidates for the position, a fact she freely admitted to her husband later that night while they sat together before the fire.

    "You could try out one of the other maids, if you wish," he suggested while furtively (he thought) loosening the ribbon that held her hair braided.

    Lizzy only smiled, partly in amusement at his subterfuge (they rarely sat together for more than ten minutes before her hair was falling loose about her shoulders) and partly because she was uncertain how to voice her response without offending his pride in his staff.

    Finally, she asked what she hoped was an innocuous question. "How did Hawkins come to be in your service?"

    William stared into the flames with a far-away look. "I did not have a personal valet until university. The summer before I left for Cambridge, Father decided that I should have the experience of hiring a staff. We came to London and an agency sent us a series of candidates to interview; Hawkins came with excellent references and… well, we seemed likely to get on well."

    Suddenly Will remembered a bit more of George Darcy's advice on the subject. He blinked and turned slightly so that he might look Elizabeth in the face. "Father also said that, while giving preference to people within the household was a good strategy for maintaining the staff's loyalty to the family, for one's most personal servants--valets and lady's maids--it was often preferable to hire from outside the household so that they would have no conflicted loyalties."

    He tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before expanding, "I might not like to think about it, but I know that the servants talk about us. Some of that talk is beneficial--in knowing what is happening in our lives, they can better see to our needs--and I can only hope that the gossip, at least in this house and at Pemberley, is kept to a minimum. However, my valet and your lady's maid are likely to see us at our most intimate…"

    At Elizabeth's sudden blush, he emended, "Well, perhaps not at our most intimate…"

    "I should hope not!" muttered his wife tartly, causing William to blush in kind.

    "Erm… yes, well… the point I remember my father making was that they see us at our most… unguarded and are often privy to our most personal concerns. He recommended that for such a servant, I hire someone from outside the household, someone who would be wholly loyal to me from the start of his employment, rather than having to learn to distance himself from the other staff."

    Darcy turned his attention back to his wife, just in time to see her nod to herself. "And you had already thought of this before I said anything… and meanwhile I have been pressing maids from the house upon you. I apologize…"

    Lizzy cut him off before he might work himself into too much of a knot. "I would have been very happy with Sally, I think, had she agreed. However, once her preferences were made clear, I began to think about it--not so long before you, you see."

    William was becoming more accustomed to Elizabeth's gentle way of easing him away from his fits of worry, but it was still novel enough to amuse him. "And now?"

    "Now I understand why it is so common for young ladies to bring a maid from their father's house when they are married. I know that, in time, the staff here and at Pemberley shall be known to me and just as dear as those at Longbourn, but for now, they are still the Darcys' servants… and I am still very new to being a Darcy. I see now that it would be very nice to have someone whom I do not need to worry is turning to Mrs. Wilkins with every little detail."

    Several days later, after seemingly endless hours spent interviewing maids, Elizabeth began to rethink her conviction. The girls sent by the agency were certainly well-qualified, but none were quite right. One looked down her nose at Mrs. Wilkins' friendly ways; another was a little too obvious in her disappointment over the lack of lace and frills in the Mistress' wardrobe. One could barely refrain from swooning when Mr. Darcy entered the room, but worst was the very experienced lady's maid whom Lizzy was almost certain had been sent by her former (and probably current) mistress to spy on the new Mrs. Darcy.

    By Sunday, Elizabeth had very nearly decided to give up on her ideal and take on a sweet if slightly featherbrained maid named Jessie. She had just said as much to William as they took a turn in the park after church when the sound of a woman's cry drew both of their attention.

    Together, the pair rushed toward the noise and were faced with the horrifying sight of a lady trying to fight off an obviously inebriated gentleman. Darcy grabbed the man's collar and jerked him back, eventually managing to force him away with no little struggle.

    As soon as it appeared safe, Elizabeth knelt beside the lady. Seeing that one sleeve had been nearly ripped off her dress, Lizzy eased her own shawl around the woman's shoulders, though she seemed too frightened to do anything but stare wide-eyed toward her attacker.

    Meanwhile, William was disgusted to realize that he recognized the villain. "Westinghouse."

    Twisting out of the taller man's grip, the Earl of Corning sneered. "Darcy! What the devil is your problem!?!" Pulling his coat straight and dusting his trousers did little to repair his disreputable appearance.

    "I heard a lady cry out and assumed that she was in need of assistance. Rightly so, from what I can see."

    "What!?!" His lordship's eyes narrowed as he glanced toward the two women. "Don't be ridiculous, Darcy. That is no lady, just a maid in my employ who has been caught stealing from my late wife."

    Elizabeth was just helping the woman up and felt her tense.

    Despite her obvious pain and a lip that was already beginning to swell, the servant straightened her shoulders and spoke clearly. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I'm no longer in your employ. I gave my notice last week, just after Lady Alice finally passed… And I've never stolen a thing in my life; the mistress herself left some of her clothes to me."

    The maid turned to the lady beside her as if just noticing someone else was there; Elizabeth could easily make out the raw grief in her eyes. "I served Lady Alice since she was a girl. She left me a letter of recommendation, of course, but also some of her gowns. She said I might take them to the rag and bone man and use the money to take a bit of a holiday before starting a new position, you see."

    Elizabeth nodded; it was a common enough practice for ladies of means to give their old clothing to a preferred servant. Before she could speak, however, Lord Corning made a rude noise. "Bah… all of my wife's possessions belong to me, and I certainly never agreed to such a thing."

    "Please, sir; ask Mrs. Greene--she'll confirm my story!

    "Hah! I'm sure she will--all you servants think you can lie to my face and then steal me blind!" He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Stupid little chit--you are standing there wearing my wife's dress--my dress--and there is not a constable in the Kingdom who will believe you over me!" He paused to wipe some spittle from his chin.

    "Corning…" Darcy began in a warning tone, but his lordship cut him off.

    "That said, I am certain that we can come to some sort of arrangement which does not involve prison." His leer left no doubt as to his intentions.

    Darcy's temper snapped. "Go home, Westinghouse, or I shall call the constable and testify myself that you assaulted this girl."

    When the other man tried to argue, William ignored him. "She is now under my protection, and I am just as well-connected as yourself, if not better. Sir James Darcy does not look upon violence against females with a kind eye, regardless of their station. And my uncle holds me in affection." His tone left no doubt as to his conviction that Corning could not claim the same of his own relations.

    Without waiting for a response, Darcy nodded to Elizabeth and they each took one of the poor maid's arms, walking as swiftly as possible without aggravating her injuries. They stayed to the mews to avoid attention but even so, both breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached Derwent House.

    The appearance of the master and mistress with a distressed female at the kitchen door caused more than a little consternation among the servants. However, as soon as Mrs. Davies was made to understand the situation, she bustled the poor girl off to bed. It was quickly determined that Tilly (for that was her name) did not require a physician, only rest and safety.

    A note was dispatched to Corning's housekeeper and that woman arrived herself within the hour, her lips tight with anger. "It's my own fault, it is!" she confided to Mrs. Wilkins. "I was the one who encouraged the poor girl to wear one of the mistress' dresses to church. Not one of the fine ones, mind you… just a pretty blue muslin with a bit of ribbon on the sleeves. She was so down about Lady Alice… I just thought that wearing it might cheer her up a bit."

    Elizabeth patted the older woman's arm. "You could not have known what would happen, Mrs. Greene."

    Darcy had decided it wise to take the precautionary step of informing his uncle about the incident and so, in the end, both Tilly and Mrs. Greene were interviewed by Sir James himself. The housekeeper had been thoughtful enough to quietly pack up the maid's belongings and bring them with her to Derwent House, so the elderly judge was also presented with three letters in Lady Alice's own hand confirming the story. One recommended her lady's maid to a future employer in such glowing terms that it was impossible to think that she had ever had any reason to question the servant's honesty or devotion. The other two were addressed to Tilly and Mrs. Greene, respectively, and outlined their mistress' desires regarding the allocation of her wardrobe.

    The judge spoke in reassuring tones to the servants, but he was more blunt with Darcy and Elizabeth once they were alone. "Morally, she is in the right, of course. But sadly, our justice system is not often inclined to take the side of a servant--and a female one at that--against that of a peer." He eyed the pair seriously over his soup bowl. "Tilly was very lucky that you found her. However, if you are not inclined to take her into your service, then I would recommend she consider leaving town, and possibly the country. I do not know the current Earl of Corning; his father was an excellent man, but what I have heard from Tilly and Mrs. Greene leads me to conclude that the son is an unpleasant sort, more than capable of pursuing a grudge."

    The Darcys shared a look that communicated volumes before Elizabeth replied. "I have been looking for a lady's maid, and will be very pleased if Tilly shall accept the position."

    Sir James nodded with approval. "Excellent. In addition to doing your Christian duty, I believe that you shall be gaining an exceedingly loyal servant. She knows very well what might have happened to her." He turned to scrutinize his nephew. "Now, what can you tell me about this Westinghouse? I sense that you know more than you have said."

    Darcy's expression tightened, but he replied honestly, knowing that his uncle was not inquiring for the sake of idle gossip. "The current Earl was formerly the Honorable Guy Westinghouse; he was born the younger son, although only by a few minutes. He and his twin brother, John Westinghouse, attended Eton with my cousin, Edward Fitzwilliam. Ashbourne and the current Earl are often in company, which may tell you more about his character than any anecdotes I may relate."

    Both of Darcy's listeners made faces, but still they remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

    "I knew John Westinghouse only in passing, but he was by all accounts an excellent man--intelligent and gentlemanly. His twin, however, was deeply resentful of his status as a younger son, and his jealousy only worsened as they grew up and left for university. John Westinghouse applied himself and was awarded honors in both academics and athletics, while his brother developed a reputation as a gambler and a rake.

    "The old Earl died soon after the boys turned twenty-one. I myself overheard the Honorable Guy Westinghouse complain that his father had left him 'only' a small estate in Staffordshire and a fortune of ten-thousand pounds."

    Elizabeth rolled her eyes, having no patience with wealthy people who did not appreciate what they had been given. Sir James caught her and smiled knowingly, his eyes twinkled in amusement for a moment. Turning back to his nephew, the elderly gentleman became serious again, saying only, "I can imagine it would be a difficult situation for some personalities to accept. But how did the younger son come into the title and fortune which he so coveted?"

    William grimaced. "The old Earl arranged for an engagement between his eldest son and Lady Alice Annesley, the Duke of Rutford's younger daughter. Plans for the wedding were interrupted by Corning's death and the family's mourning necessitated a long engagement. Then, before the event could finally take place, John Westinghouse was dead. At the funeral, his brother announced publically that he would honor the agreement between his father and the Duke by marrying Lady Alice, and did so within the month."

    Sir James eyed his nephew shrewdly. "Those are the facts, and concisely framed, I grant you. However, three dead bodies lie between Guy Westinghouse and his new title, so I believe that we wish to hear more about the emotions swirling about. Therein lie the motives, I suspect."

    William gave his relation a long look. "It is all hearsay, mind you." He only continued once both Elizabeth and Sir James had nodded their understanding.

    "I have heard nothing to suggest that the old Earl's death was anything but natural," he began. "It was well known that his lordship suffered from a shortness of breath since he was a child that was often worsened by London's poor air."

    "And he died in London during a particularly yellow fog, I remember that. But what of the sons?" prodded the judge.

    Darcy sighed. "After John Westinghouse was named Earl but prior to his wedding, the two brothers went to stay at the family's hunting lodge in Scotland. I have heard that Guy proposed the trip and had hoped to use the time alone to convince his brother to loan him more money, but that was only a whisper. By all accounts, the pair went out riding one morning but only Guy came back, calling for the doctor. He claimed that his brother had taken a hard fall jumping over a hedge, though John Westinghouse was considered to have an excellent seat and had ridden those fields all his life. By the time a wagon was brought around to the field, Corning was dead and his younger brother the new Earl."

    "And Lady Alice?" asked Elizabeth, feeling a surge of pity for a woman whom she had never met.

    "Lord Guy's public declaration of their engagement meant that she could not escape with her reputation intact, so she married him. It was only after the wedding that her new husband discovered that most of her dowry had been lost as a result of poor investments prior to the French Revolution; the old Earl had been great friends with the Duke and considered the happiness of his son more important than the bride's fortune. Lord Guy was not of a similar mindset and I have heard him publically abuse his wife for it… and, given what I know of his personality, I would not be surprised if he abused her in private with his fists."

    The remainder of the luncheon was conducted in a solemn mood. When Sir James departed, he quietly assured his nephew and niece that he would be doing some discrete checking into the new Earl of Corning's affairs.

    Later that evening, Darcy and Elizabeth cuddled together before the fire in their private sitting room, as had become their custom. Often they read--poetry or the broadsheets, histories or novels-- according to their mood and fancy. On this evening, however, neither was much inclined toward entertainment.

    William had a request that he needed to broach but feared Elizabeth would not take it well. Lizzy was disturbed by the similarity of the maid's attack to her own misadventure in Hyde Park the previous spring.

    She spoke first. "I have finally realized why Lord Westinghouse's name sounded familiar. You remember my friend Lily--Mr. Davenport's sister?"

    She continued when William nodded. "Her father tried to force her to accept the Earl's suit… except I don't believe he was the Earl at that point. The pressure was so great that she left her father's house on the very day she came of age and went to live with her brother and his wife."

    "She was lucky then, and wise," murmured her husband, thinking not for the first time about the precarious position of females in their society.

    "It makes me appreciate my own father even more. Papa has his faults, certainly, but he would never force any of us to marry where we did not wish." She paused for a moment, thinking of Lydia. "Though I suppose that his resolution has never been put to the test… we have been spared that much."

    William pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "We shall keep your sisters safe, I promise."

    She smiled slightly. "All of our sisters, you mean, yours and mine. But I fear that there is a great deal of chance involved, as we are both well aware."

    Darcy closed his eyes for a moment and offered up a small prayer that he might find words such that Lizzy would accede to his request. He knew that she would not react well to an order, but he would make it so if it meant keeping her safe. He turned so that he could look in his wife's face and took both her hands. "Elizabeth, I need you to do something for me which I do not believe you will like."

    One eyebrow arched high, but she remained silent. He took that as encouragement enough to continue. "I know how much you enjoy your solitary rambles… and in the park at Pemberley, you will be quite safe… but here, in London…"

    Seeing how earnest he was, Lizzy replied soberly, "I always tell the butler where I am going, and while we are in town, I shall not go out without a maid, I promise." She dimpled, "Of course, I should greatly prefer to have my handsome husband by my side."

    William gave her a small smile but his expression remained grave. "And a footman." Seeing that she was about to protest, he continued quickly, "A maid cannot do much to fight off an attacker." At her shocked look, he sighed. "It is not only random criminals against whom we must guard. I should think it would be quite obvious to anyone that I would do anything, pay any amount, to save you if you were taken."

    By now, both of Elizabeth's eyebrows had risen high. "Kidnappers? You don't really think…" She trailed off. William had squeezed her hands tightly and she could tell that he was deadly serious.

    "Once, when Georgiana was but eight, two men attempted to grab her while she was walking in the park with her governess… On a public path and in broad daylight. It was only thanks to John's quick reaction and fast fists that they were not successful."

    Lizzy was shocked into silence for a moment. "My goodness, poor Georgie-- I had no idea! I believe that I may prefer Mr. Wickham's mode of attack, for at least one can protect one's self from it."

    Realizing what she had just said, Elizabeth looked up at her husband with sympathy before cuddling up against his chest again. "Yes, you may assign me a walking companion. You are quite right that I prefer my solitude, but it is better to be accompanied by a servant than not be able to venture outside at all."

    Darcy wrapped his arms around her, sighing ever so slightly in relief. "Thank you. I fear that such wealth as my family has accumulated brings dangers as well as comforts."

    Lizzy smiled wanly, "As long as it comes with you, I suppose that I shall be able to endure it."

    Several evenings later, Drury Lane seemed to go perfectly silent when a large black carriage bearing the Darcy crest slowed to a halt before the Little Theatre. One of the Cleveland Bays snorted and attempted to paw the cobblestones but was quickly reined in. The horse's unease broke the crowd's preoccupation, however, and dozens of voices spoke at once, not a few shamelessly speculating on the new Mrs. Darcy.

    Some of the younger ladies considered that she must be quite a fearsome creature to have won the admiration of Mr. Darcy, a gentleman who was widely known to be exceedingly clever and fond of intelligent conversation. Of course, she would have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages. To all this, they imagined that she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.

    In short, while there were certainly some members of the audience who were committed to finding fault with Mr. Darcy's bride, there was an equal number eager to worship her given the slightest provocation.

    It was one of the latter conversations, whispered among several young ladies in their first season, that the Countess of Matlock overheard while her husband spoke with an acquaintance. The girls' conjectures over what Mrs. Darcy might wear--the length of her sleeves and height of her waistline caused particularly energetic speculations--were finally halted by a squeak from one and muted exclamations by the others, noises that Lady Eleanor rightly took to mean that her new niece had been sighted.

    As a result, the Countess did not require her youngest daughter to draw her attention to the striking couple who had just stepped to the curb.

    "Oh Mama, look-- the Darcys have arrived. Goodness! Elizabeth looks fabulous!"

    Eleanor saw William first, his impressive height enabling her to catch sight of his noble mien from across the hall. Her nephew had grown from a quiet, awkward youth into an exceedingly handsome man, although his stony countenance often worked to forestall admiration at close quarters. Tonight, however, his forbidding manner appeared to be almost entirely abandoned. The crowd parted for a moment and the Countess was able to see why her usually reserved nephew seemed to be almost entirely unaware of the crowd's attention.

    Elizabeth positively sparkled with transparent happiness, appearing as a bright glow in the darkening twilight. She wore an evening gown of light green silk whose drape appeared daring without being overly revealing. A critical eye might have noted that the style worked to mask some lack of perfect symmetry in the lady's figure, but most of the women were too busy ogling the silk that appeared to shift from sea green to silvery violet when the candlelight caught the fabric at different angles. Her hair looked particularly fine, its shiny waves expertly caught up in an exquisite, fan-like clip that seemed to give her classic English complexion a slightly exotic flair.

    The couple paused to speak with a gentleman who greeted Darcy. Eleanor was just thinking to herself with approval on her nephew's happier manners when a much less welcome figure intruded upon the trio.

    The Baroness Cutsforth was freshly widowed and on the prowl. Her two elderly husbands had provided her with wealth and a title, in that order, and now she was prepared to indulge herself. Unfortunately, in her mourning she had missed the announcement of Mr. Darcy's marriage.

    "My dear Mr. Darcy; it is so good to see you again." She extended her hand to be kissed but was to be disappointed.

    Not for the first time, William gave thanks that he was no longer a single man. Though he barely knew this woman, he easily recognized her type and only nodded politely before introducing his wife. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed his friend Durnsby effect an escape with only a marginally apologetic glance.

    Meanwhile, Elizabeth was doing her best to control her mirth. The lady before her was obviously flabbergasted that one of England's most eligible bachelors was suddenly beyond her reach.

    The Baroness Cutsforth's confusion did not last long, however, and soon she began exercising her sharp tongue with more spirit than wisdom. "Forgive me, Mrs. Darcy, but I cannot think of where we have met before."

    Elizabeth only smiled serenely. "I do not believe that we have ever met, Lady Cutsforth. My father always preferred his estate in the country to town."

    Their exchange continued for some minutes in a similar vein, with the Baroness' verbal thrusts effortlessly parried by the younger lady.

    Lady Eleanor was relieved to observe that Mrs. Darcy appeared more amused than upset by the other woman's effrontery, but even so the Countess prepared to gather her husband and daughter and move in the couple's direction. Before she could do so, however, another personage entered into the fray and Eleanor was happily reminded that her new niece was not without her own protectors in society.

    "Elizabeth, my dear girl, you look stunning!" exclaimed the dowager Countess Trowbridge, bussing the younger woman's cheeks. The elderly lady's high cheekbones hinted of a youthful beauty that had faded into handsomeness, while her sharp eyes and upright carriage were testament to a forthright nature that admired character and had no tolerance for toadeaters.

    "And Mr. Darcy, married life appears to agree with you," she said, offering her hand to the gentleman. Though her words were perfectly proper, William found himself fighting not to blush like a schoolboy before his late grandmother's friend.

    Lady Alexandra Hardwick took her time exchanging delighted observations with Elizabeth over the Gardiners' new baby daughter before finally turning to the other woman in their group. The Baroness had remained by them, stubbornly refusing to withdraw from Mr. Darcy's side even now that she knew him to be married.

    "But if it isn't little Miss Chastity McPhee, all grown up!"

    That lady's lips thinned, having spent many years discouraging the use of her first name in favour of the nickname, "Chassie," which she considered to be far less off-putting to the gentlemen. The Countess was not finished, however.

    Pretending to display the doddering intellect many expected of a woman her age (and which she considered an amusing tool for subterfuge), she whispered to Elizabeth loudly enough that her words were clear to all in the vicinity. "My father always said that the McPhees were all horse thieves."

    Elizabeth was uncertain whether to be amused or sympathetic to the Countess' target. Before she could decide, however, Lady Alexandra turned back to the others. "But, of course, you are no longer merely Miss Chastity. I remember how surprised we all were when you married Mr. Winterbottom. Why, you were just sixteen and he was… well, so much more mature."

    The younger woman responded stiffly, "Mr. Winterbottom passed away several years ago. I am now the Baroness Cutsforth."

    The Countess applied her monocle and pretended to peer about. "And where is that gentleman? Shall we meet him?"

    The other lady would have liked to snarl, but knew when it was time to retreat. "I fear that the Baron is also deceased; I am only recently out of mourning. Now, if you will all please excuse me."

    After watching the girl stalk off, the Countess turned to see a hint of disapproval in Mrs. Darcy's eye. "Don't you give me that look, Lizzy-girl! I have known Chastity McPhee since she was only four years old, and she was an accomplished flirt even then. Ask any of the men in Hennepin if you doubt me! Or your own husband, for that matter!"

    Mr. Darcy felt obliged to give small nod, and Lady Alexandra continued; "She married poor Winterbottom for his fortune--the man was fifty if he was a day and couldn't believe his luck that such a fine young lass was hanging out for him. Didn't last a year past the wedding, poor thing. She used his money to buy her way into Society and promptly captured Cutsforth's eye… The old coot always did have more fashion than sense. But he was happy enough to have a pretty piece on his arm--his first wife was so dreadfully plain that I suppose he thought he deserved it-- and it got her the title for which she was so desperate."

    Seeing that the gentleman was beginning to look somewhat alarmed, the Countess laughed. "Oh pish tosh, Darcy. You needn't look so disapproving. Everyone here knows her story and at least I haven't dressed it up with idle speculation that she poisoned them."

    Before William could even begin to frame a response, he was rescued by the appearance of his own relations.

    After exchanging greetings, Lady Alexandra accepted the Fitzwilliams' invitation to join their party in the Earl's box. "Far more agreeable than sitting with Percy and his wife," she said as an aside to Mrs. Darcy while they climbed the stairs.

    Elizabeth smiled but held her tongue. Later, when they were alone in their rooms, she related what she knew of the family to William, explaining that she had come to know the Countess through Mrs. Gardiner. "Her son, Mr. Percy Hardwick, is exceptionally dull. I am sorry to say it, but there it is. Lady Alex says that he takes after his father." Lizzy giggled. "But then, she also claims that she only married Lord Decimus Hardwick because his name made him sound so intriguing."

    Darcy looked on with bemused affection as his wife stole a small sip from his glass. The first time she had tried the port, Lizzy had exclaimed that she finally understood why the gentlemen kept it for themselves. "It is vastly superior to sherry for which, I admit, I have never developed a taste." She would never allow him to pour out a glass just for her, claiming it would not be ladylike. Alone in the evenings, however, he had come to expect some of his wine to disappear from his glass through no activity of his own.

    After enjoying the deep oaky taste before swallowing, Elizabeth continued her story. "I remember when Percy first became engaged, thinking that there could not be another woman more perfect for him. Rich, well-connected, and without a single original thought in her pretty head."

    "Does Lady Alexandra live with them?" asked Darcy, curiously. He could admit to himself that the thought of having to share a house his own mother-in-law filled him with horror.

    "Oh no. They would drive Lady Alex mad, and she them, I suspect." Lizzy giggled again and allowed herself another small sip of the port. "The new Lord and Lady Trowbridge have built themselves a fine new house in Mayfair." She turned to look up at Darcy, but he could only shake his head helplessly, having nothing more than a vague idea as to where it might be located.

    Elizabeth shrugged. "Lady Alex remained in the old Trowbridge house in Bloomsbury, closer to the museums and libraries. Officially it was willed to her daughter, Rose, and her husband, Mr. Smithson."

    Darcy started, making her smile. "Ah, I see you have heard something of the story! It was quite the scandal; the only daughter of an Earl falling in love with an Oxford professor she met in the reading room at the British Museum. I remember thinking it infinitely romantic when I was twelve--my mother was horrified."

    "Their house is just a few down from my Uncle Darcy's townhouse," admitted William. He remembered the disapproval he had felt upon hearing of the marriage and even recalled being thankful that he was not responsible for such a wayward female relation. Since Elizabeth had forced him to reconsider his pride, however, he found himself feeling a great deal more sympathetic toward the couple.

    Correctly guessing the direction of his thoughts, Lizzy smiled to herself before continuing. "Mr. and Mrs. Smithson split their time between London and Oxford, when they are not in Egypt on one of his expeditions. The statuary they have brought back and the sketches she has shown me are quite amazing."

    "It sounds fascinating," admitted Darcy. "We should invite them for dinner when we are next in town." He did not realize just how clearly such a suggestion displayed the changes in his thinking. Only a year before, he would never have considered effecting an introduction to a couple whose marriage was considered by many to be a degradation for her family. Now, however, he cared more for the character and intellect of his companions than their position in Society.

    Elizabeth laughed softly, loving him all the more for his lack of awareness. "That would be lovely. For now, though, I believe I am quite full of the Ton. I shall be happy when this ball is over and we may be gone to Pemberley."

    William expressed his approval of this sentiment as only a husband should.

    Chapter 42. Belle of the Ball.

    Posted on 2011-09-27

    October 1818

    High Society on Drury Lane!

    Mr. Mayweather's troupe put on an energetic performance of Mr. Culpeper's latest offering, Fortune favours the Meek, at the Little Theatre last night. Mrs. Adler's sympathetic interpretation of her character, Albertina, displayed the depth and lightness of touch that we have come to expect of this talented actress. Unfortunately, the cast's timing appeared to be off, most likely due to the last minute substitution of an understudy for Mr. Archer as Albert. As a result, some of the subtler political satire fell flat, although the primary comedic plot still emerged relatively unscathed.

    However, any deficiencies acted out upon the boards went largely unnoticed by the audience, as most eyes seemed to be turned upon the Earl of M.'s box. What could possibly draw attention away from the extraordinary Mrs. Adler, you ask? Nothing short of the first public appearance of the Earl's nephew and that gentleman's new bride!

    For those of you not caught up with le Beau Monde's latest on dit, a certain extremely eligible bachelor from Derbyshire wed an unknown young lady from Hertfordshire less than a month ago in a private ceremony attended by only family and close friends. The publicity-shy Mr. D. has avoided the Little Season since the passing of his own father five years ago left him with weighty responsibilities. Although he appeared at several society balls last spring, his manner gave no hint that he was considering a matrimonial offer, except perhaps to those boastful females longing to inspire such a sentiment.

    Much has been speculated about the former Miss B., a relative unknown to London Society. This writer will testify that her appearance at the theatre last evening was everything that was lovely. Her exquisitely styled, sea green silk evening gown complimented her thick chestnut curls, expressive eyes, and a glowing complexion. However, one would not expect Mr. D., winner of the Lane medal in Classics at Cambridge University, to fall for just another pretty face, and by all appearances, he has not. The new Mrs. D. was observed to pay close attention to the performance (unlike many others in the audience) and was later overheard discussing some finer points of Culpeper's metaphors with her husband and Professor P. from Oxford University (with whom the lady appeared to have a prior acquaintance).

    The couple was joined in the Earl's box by that gentleman's wife, Lady E., their younger son, Colonel F., youngest daughter, Lady L., and the dowager Countess of T. from Staffordshire. The latter, famously impatient with follies and nonsense, appeared to be well-known by the new Mrs. D. and chose to sit by her during the play instead of with her own son and daughter-in-law. One begins to wonder if the rumours about the former Miss B.'s lack of connections may only reflect the imaginary wishes of the Ton's many disappointed ladies!

    Curious readers are advised to visit Drury Lane to be entertained by Mr. Culpeper's intriguingly original play before it ends its run Friday. As for the audience, we forecast that the next public outing of the elusive Mr. D. and his lovely bride will be at the grand ball to be hosted by his uncle Thursday, expected to be The Event of the year, Little Season or no. Those of you lucky enough to have received invitations should put them under lock and key, for they are proving to be worth their weight in gold, ladies and gentlemen!

    Miss Caroline Bingley had just finished reading the society section for the third time and was looking around for something fragile to throw when voices from the hall alerted her to new arrivals. Hoping for callers who would wish to gossip about something other than her failure to catch Mr. Darcy, she quickly hid the broadsheet under a pillow and smoothed her skirts, only to be disappointed when the butler showed in no one but her brother and his new wife.

    "Oh-- Charles, Jane… How nice. I had no idea that we were to expect you today." Her nose wrinkled as it became clear that the pair still wore their traveling clothes.

    Charles Bingley was tired and wished to do nothing more than take a long, hot bath, have a light meal, and then collapse into bed with his dear wife in his arms. The unexpected appearance of his less-than-dear sister settled comfortably in his drawing room filled him with resentment.

    Before he could do more than stare, however, Jane replied pleasantly, "Caroline, how lovely to see you." After exchanging kisses and pretending that she did not notice her new sister's obvious disdain over her dusty skirts, the former Miss Bennet turned to her new husband. "I will see to the unpacking and have your bath drawn."

    Jane's actions gave Charles the moment he needed to gather his wits. Kissing her cheek, he smiled, "Thank you, angel. I'll be up in a few minutes."

    The new Mrs. Bingley departed with a knowing smile and the entire scenario was enough to turn Caroline's stomach. As a result, her tone was even more sour than usual. "I suppose that you will want me to have Mrs. Barton hold dinner for you. Really Charles, this is all quite inconvenient. I have plans…"

    "Caroline, what are you doing here?" interrupted her brother in an impatient tone.

    "What am I… Are you attempting to be witty, Charles? This is my home, is it not?"

    He sighed. "Don't play with me, Caro. You know very well that you were to stay with the Hursts until we leave for the country."

    "Oh, I heard you but knew that you couldn't possibly be serious. Surely you would not want the servants to be left unsupervised while the house is being redecorated?" Caroline adopted the gently chiding tone that had always succeeded in turning her younger brother around to her way of thinking in the past.

    Though he knew that he ought to send her packing immediately, Bingley hadn't the energy for a fight. "Just remember, Jane is mistress of my house now. You may remain so long as you treat her with the respect and courtesy that she deserves."

    "Oh dear Jane… Truly, Charles, everything I'm doing is meant to make her more comfortable in our home."

    Bingley actually snorted aloud at that bit of bold insincerity, but was simply too muzzy for a confrontation. Instead, he merely turned on his heel and spoke over his shoulder as he left the room. "Just remember, Caro… by law I am no longer responsible for you after your twenty-fifth birthday, so if you desire another Season, you had best tread carefully."

    Once she was certain that her brother had gone, Miss Bingley dropped any semblance of pleasantry and sank onto the nearest seat, only just managing to stop herself from throwing her teacup at the fireplace. What had gotten into Charles?!? She had assumed that after enough time had passed, he would return to his usual, manageable self. "Humph," she sniffed.

    Caroline's desire to retain control of her brother's house warred with her increasing suspicion that his recalcitrant attitude might not be a passing whim. She had spent nearly a fortnight at the Hursts' home and had no interest in returning. Louisa was increasingly taking the side of her husband, for whom Miss Bingley had no respect and little use. Unfortunately for her, the feeling was quite mutual.

    In addition, now that Charles had established a separate residence, the Hursts were receiving far fewer invitations and those they did get were not of the superior quality that Caroline desired. A quick perusal of her brother's accumulated mail during a visit to the Waverley Street house had confirmed what she already suspected; those invitations were now being directed to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley.

    Caroline had correctly predicted how a closer relationship with Mr. Darcy would open doors in high society to the newly rich Bingley family, but it gave her little pleasure now. To have that relationship established through a double wedding of her brother and Mr. Darcy to the Bennet sisters made her feel positively ill. Even so, her ambition exceeded her disappointment over the loss of Pemberley and the Darcy family's social prominence.

    Miss Bingley was keenly aware that the only way for her rise as high as she desired was to marry very well, and the only way for her to achieve such a marriage now was to maintain her connection to the Darcys. She considered Georgiana to be easily manipulated but somewhat useless now that there was no longer any possibility of attaching the girl to Charles. There was no getting around the conclusion that, in order to remain an intimate of the Darcy household, it was necessary to befriend the former Miss Bennets. Caroline had no concerns with regard to her new sister--by her estimation Jane had as much spine as a limp rag. It was Miss Eliza who unsettled her.

    A great deal of Miss Bingley's self-confidence in Society was tied to her attendance at an exclusive lady's seminary with offspring of some of the most highly ranked families in the Kingdom. She had had little true intellectual curiosity; her prized education consisted of studying those young ladies whose birth made it possible for them to take their position in Society for granted, and modeling her own airs and speech after them.

    That Eliza Bennet, a country girl who had not even had the advantage of a governess, might impress no less than Mr. Darcy with her pert attitudes and conceited independence, was disconcerting to say the least. Although Caroline considered herself to have paid off every arrear of civility before the wedding, she had been left with the deepening sensation that the younger miss was not fooled in the least.

    "Humph," she repeated before standing, brushing out her skirts, and stalking out of the empty room.

    Meeting the housekeeper in the hall, she found a target for her irritation. "Barton! it is high time that someone attended me. Why, I had begun to think that there were no servants left in the house!"

    "Miss Caroline," replied the gray-haired woman with a neutral expression. "I was just helping the new mistress settle in. Now, will you be staying the night, or returning to your sister's?" Mrs. Barton might be elderly, but she had observed the girl before her grow from a pretty, petted, spoiled child to a haughty, conceited young lady. She had spent the last few days attempting to balance Miss Bingley's inconsistent demands with the instructions left to her by young Master Charles' lovely new wife.

    Now that the new Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had returned and her master had taken her aside to reassure her with regards to his sister, Mrs. Burton had little patience left.

    Thus, when Miss Bingley began to direct her with regards to dinner, the housekeeper merely waited for a pause before informing her, "Mr. and Mrs. Bingley have already told me that they will be taking a tray in their private sitting room in an hour. Shall you do the same, or do you wish to sup in the formal dining room again?" She did not actually say "alone," but it was implied.

    Furious beyond words, Caroline only managed to sniff and say, "Oh, send it to my rooms," before turning her back and flouncing off to her own apartment.

    The next day, Charles and Jane were up early, eager to begin settling into the house that was to be their London home. After going over the accumulated mail together and sending off notes where an immediate response was required, they parted ways for several hours. Mr. Bingley retreated to his study to examine his business correspondence, while Mrs. Bingley reviewed the housekeeping accounts with Mrs. Burton. Neither was perturbed in the least when Miss Bingley did not deign to leave her rooms until after luncheon; that lady having decided that her brother and his new wife would appreciate her presence more if she was unavailable for a time.

    Unfortunately, this gambit did not work in her favor, for it allowed her relations to forget about her presence in the house altogether until she forcibly reminded them later in the afternoon.

    Miss Bingley was sitting in the drawing room again, this time studying the most recent La Belle Assemblée, when she heard her brother's voice in the hall followed by Jane's softer reply. To be honest, Caroline was lying in wait, planning to begin working on her brother about increasing her allowance during tea and then wear him down throughout the evening. She was just practicing her arguments when she caught sight of the Bingley carriage pulling around to the front of the house. Which could only mean…

    "Charles! Whatever are you doing?!? I was not informed that we had plans tonight!" She shot a suspicious look at the former Miss Bennet but that lady only smiled serenely and turned to accept her wrap from a servant.

    As a result, Miss Bingley did not see her brother's pained expression before he was able to replace it with a more neutral mien. "Ah Caroline… Jane and I will be dining out, so I fear that you are on your own tonight."

    "Don't be ridiculous, Charles! You shall have to wait while I change--I can't possibly go anywhere in this dress! But where are we going?"

    Charles had turned away to retrieve a parcel from the maid so his sister missed him rolling his eyes, although the servant did not. After receiving a small nod from Jane to strengthen his resolve, Caroline's brother turned back and looked her in the eye. "We are going to dine with the Darcys. You were not invited."

    Caroline's face turned a most unattractive shade of red as she sputtered incoherently. Rather than wait until his sister recovered enough to be articulate, Bingley guided Jane out the door and into the carriage.

    "I am beginning to miss France already," he said dryly.

    Jane laughed lightly and touched his arm. "Yes, but I am not certain that either of us are ready for another channel crossing, yet."

    Charles' face turned slightly green at the very thought. "Or ever!" He thought for a moment. "Well, just a few weeks in London and then we remove to Hertfordshire."

    Even as her husband began to smile optimistically, Jane tensed. "And my mother."

    The young Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had come to know each other much better during their wedding trip, as the conditions and privacy had been far more supportive of the free trade of confidences than their very public courtship. Jane understood his aversion to conflict much better, and Charles had a clearer idea of her life-long attempt to please her nervous mother while not losing touch with her own values.

    Charles squeezed his wife's hand and reminded her, "Only for a month. Then we travel to Pemberley for Christmas."

    "With my mother," rejoined Jane in an even more dejected tone.

    Forced to admit that this was correct, Charles was quiet for a few moments before taking both of Jane's hands in his. He waited until she looked at him. "Janie, angel, remember… Netherfield is leased, not bought. We are in no way bound to stay there."

    Jane considered this carefully. "But Mama would be so hurt if we moved away…"

    Charles grinned mischievously. "Blame me! If we were to find an estate that we liked in the north, say in Derbyshire or the next county, we could just tell her that I wished to settle closer to my family in Yorkshire. And we would still have the house in London, which is barely a half day's drive from Longbourn."

    By the time the carriage came to a halt in front of Derwent House, the Bingleys looked quite as happy and optimistic as newlyweds were expected to be.

    "Jane!"

    The greetings between the Darcys and Bingleys were just as warm as one might hope for between couples made up of two close sisters and the best of friends. While the former Miss Bennets hugged and even cried a little, their husbands shook hands and slapped each other's shoulders with a level of sincere heartiness not often demonstrated among in-laws.

    After the Bingleys were assured that the other dinner guests were not expected to arrive for some hours, the foursome retreated to the library and shared stories of their recent travels over tea and cakes. It was not long, however, before Lizzy laughingly drew her sister away. "Come Jane, you must admire the ball gowns that Madame Lavoisier has created for us… I have kept yours with my own until you returned to claim it. You gentlemen won't mind, will you? After all, I am sure that you will wish to have a bit of masculine conversation before dinner!"

    Darcy met her teasing look with a fond one. "I beg you, Madame, please spare us from your tedious discussion of lace and frills."

    The ladies bid a temporary adieu in the midst of much laughter. Moving toward the door, Elizabeth overheard her husband ask Bingley, "So, how are you?"

    That gentleman's reply, "Most excellently, until we returned home to find Caroline settled in at the Waverley Street house," left Lizzy wide-eyed.

    After the door clicked shut behind them, she turned to Jane. "Is he serious? Miss Bingley moved into your house without permission and before you had returned from France? With no relatives or companion there?"

    Mrs. Bingley's increased confidence was evident to her sister when she merely shook her head. "I believe that she still considers it to be her home, so the question of propriety did not occur to her. She brought her lady's maid, thank goodness." Jane paused before murmuring softly, "Losing control of Charles' household is not going to be easy for her, I fear."

    Elizabeth rolled her eyes, causing her sister to laugh out loud. "Oh Lizzy, I love Charles dearly, but it is very good to see you again."

    Mrs. Darcy gave her elder sister a quick hug before opening the door to her boudoir. "And I return the sentiments most ardently, sister dearest! Now, come see your gown!"

    The ladies ooohed and aaahed over their new finery for some time before eventually settling on a comfortable divan to chat. Elizabeth had just finished describing the Gardiners' new baby when her sister's expression turned to one she easily recognized as self-reproach.

    "Lizzy, I fear that hosting our family shall be an imposition on our aunt at such a time. I feel terribly guilty that I did not invite our parents and sisters to stay with Charles and I."

    Although Elizabeth had been expecting something of the sort from her kind-hearted sister, she could not resist teasing, "Oh, and I'm certain that your new sister would have loved that! I can just hear her now, 'What--are we to be invaded by all the Bennets in the county?!?'"

    The twinkle in Mrs. Bingley's eye assured her sister that she appreciated the humour of the situation. However, her tone was still concerned. "But seriously, Lizzy…"

    Elizabeth cut her off before she might say more. "Jane, I felt much as you did. So, last week, despite our mutual reservations, William and I decided that good manners required us to make the offer. We spoke with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and their response was sensible enough to convince me that they were not merely being polite.

    "They have rooms enough, so long as Mary and Kitty do not mind sharing. William and I will be hosting the entire clan at Pemberley for a month over Christmas, and you and Charles can not possibly take in the family when you only just arrived home yesterday and have not yet hired a full complement of servants!"

    Jane was only partially convinced. "But still…"

    Elizabeth sighed. "Jane, Papa refuses to spend more than three days in London. The Gardiners believe (and I agree) that Mama's nerves will be best soothed in a familiar setting.

    "Everyone is coming here for dinner tonight, sparing the Gardiners from the need to host us all at Gracechurch Street. And I have made it clear that if one or both of them feels it necessary to stay at home, we will not be in the least offended. Tomorrow, Mary and Kitty shall come here at mid-day to spend the afternoon with Georgiana. Mrs. Annesley shall chaperone them to and from the ball and I believe that all three girls are looking forward to it.

    "This way, Papa and the Gardiners may concentrate all their efforts on maintaining Mama's… equilibrium. If you truly feel that you must contribute in some way other than merely enjoying yourself at the ball, then perhaps you might spell our aunt and uncle in minding Mama so that they might dance a set."

    Jane's eyes had widened during her sister's speech. "Goodness, Lizzy… that is a little… blunt, do you not think?"

    Elizabeth shut her eyes for a moment and her lips tightened. When she opened them, Jane could see the barely controlled nerves. "Jane, I love Mama and know she means well, but my loyalty is to my husband now. Of course I want to have my parents at the Matlock ball, but I will do anything and everything in my power to see that my family does not embarrass William."

    Mrs. Bingley was silent for a few minutes, for although she could not claim that her sentiments were altogether different, she was still somewhat shocked by her sister's forthright speech. Turning it over in her mind, however, she began to understand that much of Elizabeth's harshness was a product of nerves.

    "This is quite an event for you, isn't it Lizzy?" she said slowly. "I suppose I had not thought on it much before. I had considered it to be just a grand ball to celebrate your marriage, but really it is far more than that. In truth, it is your debut in the first circles of London Society, isn't it?"

    Elizabeth was so relieved to have her favorite sister understand that she collapsed with her head in Jane's lap as she had often done as a little girl. "Oh Janie… William keeps telling me how wonderful I will be and how glad he is that I am comfortable in society and can keep him from offending people. But at least he knows them all… last night I had a dream that I arrived at the ball, only to realize that I had no clothes on under my cloak. William and Lord Henry kept urging me to remove my wrap and dance while a whole roomful of disapproving strangers were looking on."

    "Poor Lizzy," soothed Jane, stroking her sister's hair as she had done when they were young. "It shall all be well, just you wait and see."

    "He loves me so and I don't want to disappoint him… But I also know quite well that at some point, something will happen to make me look ridiculous… And it seems as if someone is watching my every step! Why, just this week we went to the theatre and it ended up in the society column!"

    Jane smiled gently. "Yes, I read it this morning… although Caroline appeared to have abused the paper somewhat by the time I found it." Pleased to tease a giggle from her sister, she continued, "It was very flattering toward you, Lizzy. Surely you needn't worry."

    Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Jane, I hate to shock you, but I fear that the editors are well aware that scandals sell papers… and that is their business." Even so, Elizabeth was feeling more like herself. After some further reassurances, she sat up and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. "You must think me very silly, Jane, working myself up like this. Truly, I am looking forward to the Matlock ball--for I do love to dance, as you know."

    "Lizzy, you have a great deal of pressure on you, and I apologize for not realizing it sooner." When her younger sister began to protest, Jane merely shook her head. "I am sure that you will enjoy yourself at the ball, for you are determined and we both know that your determination can be a fearsome thing." They both giggled before Mrs. Bingley continued. "However, I predict that you will be happiest when you and Mr. Darcy are finally in your carriage headed for Pemberley.

    Elizabeth could not disagree and was again reminded of how much she appreciated her sister's gentle understanding.

    Not much later, the pair noticed the time and bestirred themselves to return to their husbands. The two couples had more than enough time to enjoy some pleasant conversation before the arrival of their family for dinner.

    The meal itself went much as Elizabeth would have predicted. As on previous occasions, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Bennet found themselves quite pleased with one another's humor, teasing all members of the company in turn, but particularly Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.

    Mrs. Bennet, having only just arrived in London that very afternoon, was still somewhat tired from the long carriage ride but her personality would not allow her to remain quiet. After warmly greeting their hosts and the other guests, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner stayed near their sister and did their best to curb her most vulgar exclamations over the house and its decorations.

    Georgiana hugged her brother and new sister tightly but seemed quite comfortable with ceding her place to other guests. She spent much of the evening with Mary and Kitty Bennet, giggling and sharing details about what each planned to wear to the ball. Although they would not be allowed to dance, the three girls would attend the opening and did well to bolster each other's spirits at such an intimidating prospect. Their ultimate raptures, however, were saved for the slumber party that had been planned for afterwards in Georgiana's apartment.

    After listening to promises of hot chocolate and various other delicacies, Darcy observed that they did not appear to be scheduling much time for sleep. He was pleased (if a little shocked) when Georgiana only laughed in response, admitting readily that the trio planned to stay up all night trading confidences.

    The gathering ended somewhat early with Mr. Bennet reminding his wife that they could all do with a good night's rest that night, for they were unlikely to have one on the following evening.

    "Oh, yes! Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Darcy--you must get your beauty sleep, for you are to be the focus of everyone's attention tomorrow! My dear, dear daughters, the belles of the ball!"

    Even as she was ascending the step into the Gardiners' carriage, one could still hear Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice, "Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Darcy--how well that sounds!"

    The next day dawned clear and crisp; a good omen as no one liked to promenade through fresh mud on the way to a ball. Mary and Kitty spent some time fussing over the baby while Mr. Gardiner and his brother-in-law took the older children to play in the park. By the time Mrs. Bennet rose from her bed, her daughters had departed for Derwent House and the Gardiner children were adequately tired to settle happily in the schoolroom to attend their lessons.

    Even so, the Bennets and Gardiners were late arriving at Grosvenor Square, to no one's real surprise. Mrs. Bennet's desire to savor every second of the ball did not negate her natural tendency to fuss and flutter during her preparations for it. Usually her husband would have merely settled in the library with a book and a glass of wine, content to have the evening shortened without any effort on his part.

    Today, however, Thomas Bennet had to admit that his curiosity at seeing how his little Lizzy appeared in such grand surroundings made him rather impatient. As a result, he stirred himself to visit his wife's dressing room, much to that lady's astonishment.

    "Are you ready, Mrs. Bennet? The carriage has been prepared to depart for this last half-hour at least," he said with more than a trace of his customary asperity. He realized too late that such an attitude was not likely to help the situation.

    "Oh, Mr. Bennet!"

    He softened his tone. "What is the matter, Fanny? You look lovely--that colour becomes you." That garnered him a tentative smile that rapidly dissolved into tears.

    "Oh, Mr. Bennet! A ball given by an Earl! You and my Sister Gardiner have grown up going to assemblies such as these… even my brother has attended grand London balls since his marriage. I am nothing but the daughter of a tradesman who has lived in the country for so long that I fear I will look like a… a… a pig in a china shop!" Tears continued to leak out of the corners of her eyes.

    Mr. Bennet procured a handkerchief. "Nonsense, Fanny. You have been a gentleman's wife and mistress of an estate for far longer than you were Miss Gardiner, and even then, you were anything but ordinary. Besides, good manners are the same wherever one might go, town or country, high society or the lowest croft. When all else fails, just smile and nod… leave them wondering what you are thinking."

    "But Thomas, you know how I act when I am nervous… words just pour out of my mouth before I have the least notion what I am going to say."

    Mr. Bennet could not argue with that statement, so took his own advice and remained silent. Luckily, his wife did not notice and, after dabbing at her eyes, she continued, "I hardly recognized Lizzy and Jane last night. I always hoped that they would marry well, but I hardly dreamed… Mr. Darcy's house is so very grand… and he is so very rich… yet Lizzy acted as though she was born to it!"

    "A credit to your raising her, I am sure."

    Mrs. Bennet gave him a look that displayed a rarely utilized sense of humour. "Don't be ridiculous, Thomas. That girl has been your daughter since the day she opened her eyes."

    Thomas sighed and moved to sit beside her. "Fanny… Would you like to know my impression of last night?" He waited until she gave a small nod. "I saw a young lady whose warmth and liveliness made everyone feel welcome and at home… much like another young lady once did for Longbourn."

    Mrs. Bennet studied him carefully and saw that he was in earnest.

    "Fanny, I fear that Mr. Darcy and I are much alike in essentials… we are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition with little talent for flattery or liking of social gatherings. Perhaps that is why we both chose to marry ladies with such vibrant spirit… you and Lizzy are more alike than either of you prefer to think-- you both have such a zest for living that it breaths life into all around you."

    It was quite the longest and most complimentary speech that her husband had made to her in some time and Fanny Bennet was left speechless for a moment. Finally, she merely stood and stepped into his arms. "Thank you, Thomas. That was just what I needed to hear."

    Mr. Bennet patted her back. "There, there, Fanny… I speak nothing but the truth."

    The Gardiners were happy to see that their sister appeared almost calm when she descended their stairs. Little was said during the drive and, in the end, the ride to Grosvenor Square was shorter than the time their carriage spent waiting in line to reach Matlock's front door.

    And so it was that Mrs. Fanny Bennet accepted her husband's arm and took her place ahead of her brother and sister, climbing the steps to the Earl of Matlock's London house. Light poured from the many windows and she glimpsed silk-clad ladies moving about inside like some marvelous, glittering butterfly garden. The footmen wore the peer's livery and it was not until she passed under the lintel that she realized she had been holding her breath.

    Mr. Bennet squeezed his wife's hand and gave her a reassuring smile as they moved toward the receiving line. She took a deep breath, and then Fanny Bennet stepped forward to go where Fanny Gardiner would never have dreamed.

    Although they greeted her pleasantly, the Earl and his wife were quite as grand as she had imagined and paid her only the attention due a distant family member. Mr. Darcy was still intimidatingly tall, but Fanny noted that his eyes seemed softer, somehow. Taking her hand, he must have seen something in her face, for he smiled and spoke in a kindly tone. "Mrs. Bennet, we are very happy to have you here, Madame."

    Fanny managed only a few syllables but they seemed to satisfy him enough that he turned to the Gardiners. In doing so, he moved enough that she could see beyond him to the elegantly glamorous lady at his side. For a moment, Mrs. Bennet merely stared, uncomprehending. When the young lady finally turned to her, Fanny could only manage to breath a single word.

    "Lizzy!"

    Her second daughter saw something of her own nerves in her mother's eyes and without thinking held out her arms. The pair embraced with a more feeling than either could remember. "Oh Mama, I am so glad that you have come."

    And suddenly, Elizabeth knew that she spoke the absolute truth. Her father might tease her about quitting the ball for the library with the best of intentions, but it was her mother who understood the significance of this evening.

    Mrs. Bennet hugged her daughter tightly for just a moment before stepping back. "Oh, be careful-- I don't want to muss your dress!" She held the younger lady at arm's length and looked her over, from the elegant coif to the gem encrusted slipper roses that just peeped out below her skirts (one of the items that Darcy could not resist during his visit to the jewelry store). "My goodness, Lizzy, you quite take my breath away."

    Mrs. Darcy dropped her eyes in embarrassment at the unaccustomed compliment from her mother. She recovered quickly, however, and looked up with a twinkle in her eye that Fanny recognized as inherited from her father. Raising her skirt a few inches, Elizabeth teased, "Did I get all the mud off my petticoats, Mama?"

    "Oh Lizzy, how you try my nerves!" huffed Mrs. Bennet, but there was an abundance of affection in her voice.

    It soon became obvious that the Bennets needed to move on so that some new arrivals might advance through the receiving line. Assured by their daughter that Jane and Mr. Bingley were somewhere inside already, the master and mistress of Longbourn proceeded into the crowded room.

    After moving through the crush and spending several minutes greeting some personages known to Mr. Bennet, the couple retreated to a punch table. Mrs. Bennet stood beside her husband, ostensibly observing the glittering crowd but also sneaking glances toward her second daughter. "Oh, Thomas… I barely recognized her. Is that truly our Lizzy?"

    Thomas smiled at his wife indulgently. "Our little tomboy cleans up rather well, doesn't she, Mrs. Bennet?"

    "Oh Thomas," she repeated, giggling. "Be careful--some one might hear you!" Before she could continue, Fanny suddenly realized the handsome young couple speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner as her eldest daughter and son-in-law.

    Normally, Mrs. Bennet would have rushed forward to greet her favorite daughter with loud effusions. However, something about the overwhelming company and her lingering astonishment over Elizabeth's appearance lent her patience. Content to remain still and wait for her relations to come to her, Fanny observed her daughters and pondered the state of affairs.

    Jane was still classically beautiful, but where her serenity lent her an appearance of aloofness, Elizabeth's beauty glowed with liveliness and wit. As a result, it was the younger sister at whom people turned to stare. Mrs. Bennet knew for a fact that the same modista had designed both dresses, and she could not fault Jane's ice blue gown, nor the jewels that ornamented her neck and hair. Fanny had an inkling that Lizzy's ruby and diamond set might be more costly, but somehow she knew that Mrs. Darcy would be just as impressive without them.

    Before she could consider her offspring further, however, the Bingleys moved to greet Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, followed by Mary, Kitty, and Miss Darcy. Fanny's younger daughters were dressed far more modestly than she would have clothed them, but given the approving looks that they were garnering, Mrs. Bennet decided that her sister-in-law's advice about what was appropriate had been correct.

    In fact, most of the attention was for Georgiana, for word was being passed around that the young heiress was making an unofficial first appearance in Society. Even so, Mary and Kitty's unassuming appearances at her side for much of the evening certainly did them no harm, and more than one matron noted that these Bennets were obviously not the country savages that the more vicious gossip had labeled them.

    Unfortunately, not everyone could claim relations of whom they might be proud. Mr. Bingley was standing at his wife's side while she chatted amiably with her parents when his eye was caught by a lady whose fashion was so excruciatingly modern that it made him embarrassed for her. The next moment, Charles realized that the lady was none other than his sister.

    "Oh dear Lord," he breathed.

    Miss Bingley appeared to have vented her frustrations by pressing her modista for a gown that would attract the attention she craved, at a ball which she was somehow certain should have been in her own honor. Unfortunately, the result was such a revealing concoction of taffeta and lace that more than one gentleman was observed to do a double-take before blushing and turning away.

    Bingley excused himself and went to find his older sister and her husband. Mrs. Hurst was already in quite a state, having just caught sight of Miss Bingley receiving the attentions of several gentlemen. That their interest was not in her conversational skills was obvious to everyone but Miss Bingley.

    "Oh Charles, how could you let her come dressed like that!?!" whispered his sister in an agitated tone.

    "She met us downstairs with her cape already on… She was late, as usual, and I only thought to be thankful that we could finally leave," Bingley replied curtly. Then he sighed and his voice took on a tinge of helplessness. "But what could I have done, Louisa? Order her back to her room to change? We both know Caroline has never listened to me."

    Mr. Hurst spoke up, patting his wife's hand reassuringly and making a face at Charles. "Neither of you are at fault. A woman of twenty-four, who has been out in London society for nearly six years, should know how to dress for an Earl's ball. Every family has an embarrassment lurking somewhere in their genealogy… let us hope that this is the worst of it."

    His sensible words steadied the others and after a few more comments, their conversation turned toward plans for Christmas.

    Later, however, Mrs. Hurst was to be further mortified when she overheard three ladies discussing her sister.

    "Can you believe that gown? My daughter has been begging me to arrange an introduction to Madame Claudette, but I am not so certain, now."

    "Goodness, no. I think you would do much better to discover this modista whom Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley are patronizing."

    "Aren't they elegant?"

    "Their gowns are rather simple for my taste."

    The other ladies tittered, for their friend was well known for loving an abundance of ruffles.

    Luckily, Mr. Hurst arrived just then with a glass of wine and guided his wife away before she might overhear any more. After Louisa related the gist of what had been said, he reminded her of a similarly disparaging conversation that she and her sister had shared after the Meryton Assembly, a conversation that had consisted primarily of belittling the elder Miss Bennets on account of the younger.

    After a moment of consideration, Mrs. Hurst was forced to admit the truth of his statement. "Oh Gil, I have behaved dreadfully to the Bennets, haven't I?"

    "Not nearly so bad as Caroline," he assured her. "But you might make a point of being genuinely courteous to them from now on, just to make it clear that you do not share your sister's sentiments."

    "Charles is so happy and Jane is such a dear. I can't imagine what Caro was thinking, trying to keep them apart."

    "Consider your sister's motives, and I fear that the reasoning behind her actions becomes quite clear," observed her husband acidly.

    Mrs. Hurst was silent, considering the events of the last year. Finally she sighed. "Jane is so sweet that she probably would forgive me, but it is unlikely she will ever forget that I was a part of our family's poor treatment of her. And Mrs. Darcy is so clever; even should Jane soften towards me, I believe that her sister would make sure they keep us at arm's length. It is all quite hopeless."

    "Oh come now, my dear. They seem like sensible young ladies, and I cannot think that either would hold your sister's actions against you. Miss Elizabeth, in particular, seems well aware that one cannot be held responsible for the ridiculousness of one's relations, else she would never have married Darcy after having met Lady Catherine de Bourgh!"

    He was pleased that his jest brought a smile to his wife's face. Their one experience with Darcy's aunt had left neither with particularly fond memories of that lady's grand estimation of herself and dismissive view of everyone else in the world. "Come, my dear Louisa, why are we standing around in this foolish manner! Is it not a ball? Let us dance!"

    His wife agreed happily and soon the Hursts could be observed joining a set that was just beginning.

    They were not alone in finding the dance floor a pleasant escape. While the Earl appeared blissfully happy, mixing with the nation's most powerful as his guests, his nephew was growing increasingly testy. That gentleman's wife had been dancing with a seemingly endless series of gentlemen, all of whom appeared to him to be excessively appreciative of her laughter and wit, not to mention her figure.

    Meanwhile, Darcy was forced to deal with a seemingly endless series of politicians who desired his support, financial or otherwise. Each time he escaped such a conversation, he was captured by another, or by some matron intent on conveying her disappointment that he had not chosen to wed her daughter or niece.

    William was just glancing around, using his superior height in the hope that he might discover the Gardiners' position, when a new set of talons latched on to his arm. He was not at all happy to discover that his newest companion was none other than Lady Fenella Pierpont-Cox, whose husband was currently partnering Elizabeth. Lord Raymond had the morals of an alley cat; Darcy might have pitied the man's wife had she not appeared determined to equal if not exceed his misbehavior.

    "Oh, my dear Mr. Darcy… I was so delighted to receive your invitation to the ball. It has been so long, I had quite despaired of hearing from you!" Her simpering voice and madly batted eyelashes did no more to attract the gentleman than on any of the other occasions when he had been forced to endure her presence.

    Mr. Darcy managed a small nod; that was enough for her to continue unimpeded in what she considered to be her most invitingly flirtatious manner. William fumed silently but luckily his wife was not as oblivious of his situation as he had begun to think.

    When Lord Raymond Pierpont-Cox had maneuvered Mrs. Darcy into a dance, she had been looking for her husband. Now, though she moved through the forms with her usual grace and made appropriate noises in response to his monologue, she was discretely keeping an eye on William. That gentleman was doing an excellent imitation of an exceedingly grim statue.

    Even with only part of her attention on Lord Raymond, Elizabeth soon had her partner's measure. When the dance ended, she was not at all surprised when Lord offered to show her the conservatory. Having no desire to be alone with such a man, Mrs. Darcy turned in quite the opposite direction than he was attempting to lead her, smiling sweetly, "Thank you, sir, but at the moment I am very much in need of some refreshment."

    When Lord Raymond attempted to turn her toward a punch table on the way to some other isolated balcony, she only repeated her innocent smile. "Oh, but I fear that I had a cup from that punch bowl earlier, and it is much too sweet for me. Would you mind terribly if we visited that table across the room--it has just the right tartness."

    The gentleman had no choice but to follow in her wake as his prey snaked her way through the crowd. He wished he had been less accommodating, however, when he stepped around a large woman with a feathered turban only to discover that the lovely ingénue he had assumed Darcy's country bride to be was now standing beside her own husband… and Lord Raymond's own wife, who was looking exceedingly displeased at having her amusement interrupted.

    Before Lord Raymond could act to repair the situation, however, Elizabeth was already speaking. "Why Lady Fenella, you look positively parched! Husband, have you not offered to get her some refreshment? His lordship was just going to fetch me a glass of punch; perhaps you should accompany him?"

    Not quite certain what Elizabeth was about but more than willing to follow her lead, William agreed and, after curtly inquiring as to her ladyship's preference, efficiently herded the older gentleman toward the buffet.

    Before she could unleash any of the barbs which came to mind, Lady Fenella found herself answering all manner of questions about her beloved dogs… a topic upon which she had a hard time restraining her enthusiasm, particularly with as sympathetic interrogator as Mrs. Darcy proved to be. Before the older lady quite knew what was happening, Mr. Darcy and her husband had returned, and a cup of punch appeared in her hand.

    Before Lord Raymond could regain Mrs. Darcy's attention, however, Elizabeth had attached herself to her husband's arm. "Mr. Darcy, you promised me a quadrille this evening but I have yet to enjoy one."

    This time, William was quick to catch on and immediately bowed to his lady. "And luckily for me, the orchestra has only just begun one." The Darcys sketched their goodbyes and were gone before the Pierpont-Coxes could think of an excuse to detain them.

    While they waited for another couple to work through the form, William squeezed his wife's hand and said softly, "Thank you for that."

    Elizabeth's eyes twinkled. "Yes, well, Lady Alexandra warned me about them. And never let it be said that Mrs. Bennet did not train her daughters well on managing an estate… including, though not exclusive to, defending one's territory from poachers." She spoke with such a serious expression that it was only with the greatest of effort that William covered a loud guffaw as a cough.

    From that point on, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy did not suffer themselves to be parted. They chatted with old acquaintances and new but danced only with each other.

    Grosvenor Square Glitters!

    Those not fortunate enough to attend last night's ball by a certain Earl of M. may bluff without fear, for surely the event was such a singular crush that even this eagle-eyed writer could not say for certain who was present and who was not. Lady E. has once again proven herself to one of London's premier hostesses.

    Although the host appeared not uninclined to use the opportunity for rallying votes to his cause (on the House docket for Tuesday), it could not be argued that the man of the hour was his nephew. Weep ladies, for England's most eligible bachelor is decidedly off the market. The famously stoic gentleman from Derbyshire was observed smiling for much of the evening, showing those devastating dimples that cause females everywhere to swoon. But his warmest looks were for his bride--clearly there is no lack of affection on either side!

    And who could blame him? The previously unknown Miss B. of Hertfordshire displayed an artless gentility combined with a sparkling wit that left not a few wishing to know her better. The famous Darcy ruby and diamond necklace (last seen gracing the neck of his mother, the late Lady A.) was matched with a silk gown of deep crimson, elegant in its simplicity. Some women might have been overwhelmed by such finery, but the new Mrs. D. wore them like a queen. Keep an eye out, ladies; this appearance, added to her success at the theatre last week, suggests that we may have a new fashion leader on the London scene!

    We have heard that the lady chose to patronize an unknown modista, recently emigrated from Paris, and the freshness of her design certainly showed. The bodice extended almost to the natural waistline and was shaped by such clever tucks that it created an exquisitely delicate effect, enhanced with gold embroidery. Cap sleeves and a v-neckline (not too deep, mind you!) complimented the lady's slender neck and shoulders. The skirts had almost no bustle but were draped in such a way as to hint at the lady's lovely figure when she stood, yet flowed and swirled pleasingly as she danced.

    Hands off, gentlemen! The lady may have danced almost every dance with a light step and a smile, but she was clearly happiest at her husband's side. That gentleman was overheard to say that they planned a retreat to Derbyshire as soon as the ball was over, and who could blame him with such a beauty at his side!?!

    The public was also granted a peak at a certain young heiress from Derbyshire, looking quite grown-up but adorably modest in apricot muslin and accompanied by the bride's two younger sisters. Does this mean that her guardians are contemplating her come-out this spring? Gentlemen, shine up your dancing slippers, for it is rumored that the young Miss D. is among the most musically talented of her generation!

    Having retired so close to dawn, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slept late the next day. Eventually, they endeavored to rise, knowing that the servants needed access to their chambers to pack if they were to leave for Derbyshire as planned. After a leisurely brunch and some chuckles over the fawning comments in the society columns, Elizabeth suggested a walk and William happily agreed. The pair enjoyed a long ramble along the Serpentine and did not return home until almost dusk.

    When the butler himself opened the door for them, Darcy immediately perceived that the man was uneasy. "Is there a problem, Holmes?" he inquired while helping Elizabeth out of her pelisse.

    "An express was delivered in your absence, sir. I sent Robby and Adam to find you, but they were not successful. The letter is from Kent, sir." Mr. Holmes had served the Darcy family for his entire life and had had the dubious pleasure of being present for several of Lady Catherine's visitations over the years.

    William's expression tightened but, however little he wished to hear from his aunt, his sense of duty prevailed. He held out his hand for the letter which the butler had just removed from an inner pocket. "Very well. Although I am tempted to consign it to the fire directly, let us see what Lady Catherine has to say first."

    Holmes looked even more discomfited. "I beg your pardon, sir, but the express is for Mrs. Darcy." With a small look of apology to his master, he presented the letter to a surprised and rather apprehensive Elizabeth.

    Before William was able to denounce his aunt for targeting his wife, Elizabeth touched his arm. "Will, it is from Charlotte." They exchanged a look. Both knew that Mrs. Collins would not send an express if the news was not urgent.

    The nearest room where they might have some privacy was the master's study; Darcy drew her in and shut the door behind them even as Elizabeth broke the seal and began reading.

    It was but a moment before she turned back to him with an unhappy look. "There has been a carriage accident involving Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins. They are both still alive, but Charlotte fears the worst, for your aunt especially."

    Continued In Next Section

    © 2011 Copyright held by the author.