Mr. Darcy’s Complex Courtship

8. Chapter 8 Lady Matlock Takes Charge

Chapter 8: Lady Matlock Takes Charge

Tuesday, 2 June

Matlock House

Elizabeth

T he Matlock home stood a mere two streets south of Fitzwilliam’s house and presented a similar facade. I tottered on the front steps and relied upon Uncle Gardiner’s arm to steady me.

“Easy there, Lizzy.” My uncle used a soothing tone. “You are not nervous, are you?”

“No.” I blurted my answer with false bravado. “Well, maybe a little.”

My gloved hand grazed the luxurious sarsnet fabric with lace trim that comprised my primrose-coloured gown—one of the new garments Aunt Gardiner had ordered for me. Thanks to her, I should at least look like a fine society lady tonight.

My beloved, dashing Fitzwilliam greeted us in the entryway, and the overt admiration in his gaze diminished my anxiety. Once he had greeted my aunt and uncle, I took his proffered arm, and he directed us through the house. He lowered his head near mine. “You are a vision of beauty, Elizabeth.”

His words—and his proximity—made my pulse race, and I sought a teasing response to no avail. “I…um…thank you.” At the entrance to the elegant drawing-room, I took note of the occupants: Mr. Wood, a dignified older couple, and a stocky, handsome gentleman in his fourth decade who wore a smirk. I edged nearer to Fitzwilliam. “Where is Miss Darcy?”

“My aunt did not invite her, and Colonel Fitzwilliam had another obligation.” He led us to the earl and countess, released my arm, and performed the introductions.

The grey-haired and stern-faced Lord Matlock stood as tall as Mr. Darcy, though his oversized girth made for a stark contrast in form.

A sprinkling of silver blended with the petite and genteel countess’s light-brown hair. She appeared to be my height or a bit shorter and maintained a confident air. When I became the subject of her scrutiny, I battled the urge to fidget.

The imposing viscount, Lord Berkeley, bore a slight resemblance to Fitzwilliam, though he shared the same strong chin and prominent cheekbones as his brother, Colonel Fitzwilliam.

When we took seats, Mr. Darcy placed me beside him on a settee opposite the earl, countess, and viscount. Mr. Wood sat to my left, and my aunt and uncle occupied chairs to the right of Mr. Darcy. A servant offered glasses of claret, and I accepted one.

Lord Matlock cleared his throat. “Miss Bennet, I must apologise to you on behalf of my sister, Lady Catherine, for her unpardonable conduct. I assure you that she is most remorseful.”

“Under the circumstances, my lord, I found it easy to forgive her ladyship. May I ask how Miss de Bourgh fares?”

“My wife saw her most recently.” The earl turned to Lady Matlock.

“I spent two days at Rosings Park last week.” The countess spoke in a halting cadence. “Anne’s health has deteriorated to the point where she has little energy or appetite and rarely leaves her rooms.”

“I am very sorry to hear that.”

The earl motioned to me with his glass of wine. “My son Richard, whom you know as Colonel Fitzwilliam, had an abundance of praise for you, young lady.”

“He is a gallant gentleman.”

“From what I understand, Darcy’s courtship of you has not been straightforward, and he did not earn your favour during his stay in Hertfordshire last autumn.”

“No, he did not.”

“The fault is entirely mine.” Mr. Darcy’s sonorous words drew my sight, and his sanguine mien buoyed my confidence. “I did not present myself well then.”

“Although I once believed Mr. Darcy to be humourless, ill-tempered, and conceited, now I know better.”

A deep laugh shook the earl’s upper body. “You are not the first to have characterised him that way, and I doubt you will be the last.” He directed a grin at Fitzwilliam. “Of course, none of us would fare well if judged by our worst moments.”

The viscount sniggered. “Be careful, Darcy. Miss Bennet does not mince words.”

“No, she does not.” Fitzwilliam’s matter-of-fact response spurred my smile. “And with her influence, I expect to offend people far less often.”

“That would be a welcome improvement.” Lady Matlock replied to Mr. Darcy, but her brown eyes focused upon me. “I understand you play the pianoforte. Do you have other accomplishments?”

My mouth went dry. No doubt my answer would disappoint her. “My musical skills are mediocre, though I have resolved to practise more in the future. To call these ‘accomplishments’ may be an exaggeration, but I have a fair proficiency in Italian, I am competent on horseback, and I am familiar with all aspects of running a household.”

Fitzwilliam turned towards me. “I have never seen you on a horse. I assumed you either did not favour riding or had never learnt.”

“Last summer our mare, Thea, died, and I have not ridden since.”

“I am sorry.” He leaned closer and lay his hand upon mine. “A horse is far more than a means of transportation, and it can be heart-wrenching to lose one.” A delightful sensation warmed my fingers until the countess hemmed, and Fitzwilliam retracted his hand.

“Now then,”—Lady Matlock’s sight flitted between me and Mr. Wood—“due to your association with Darcy, we must ensure you both are accepted by the beau monde . I expect you two will face similar challenges because of your connexions to trade.” She gestured to my aunt and uncle. “I hope neither of you take offence—I mean to be sensible and straightforward, not hurtful.”

Uncle Gardiner shared a glance with my aunt before facing Lady Matlock. “We understand, my lady—no offence is taken.”

The countess returned her attention to me. “Darcy mentioned your eldest sister wed his friend Mr. Bingley. The marriage must have been a great relief to your mother.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Although I presume she is frustrated by your father’s precept, for she cannot share the news of your engagement with her friends.”

Heat seared my cheeks. “My mother will be overjoyed when she hears the news.”

Lady Matlock’s lips parted for a long moment. “I should have expected your mother to be the first to know of your understanding with my nephew.”

“Mama is rather…excitable and subject to fits of anxiety. In addition, she is outspoken and does not always remain within the bounds of decorum. My father and I agreed she would be told…later.”

“Has Darcy met your entire family?” The countess’s nonchalant tone belied her taut deportment.

“Yes.” I glanced at Fitzwilliam. “And he has articulated his thorough understanding of my family’s foibles.”

A sound akin to a snort issued from the viscount. “That must have been an interesting conversation.”

“I lived to regret my lack of tact on that occasion.” Fitzwilliam spoke under his breath.

Lady Matlock lifted a hand to her mouth as she tittered. But she soon resumed a sedate manner. “Your candour is appreciated in an intimate gathering such as this, Miss Bennet. However, I caution you that in a more public setting, discretion is almost always the better choice.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“The sooner you are introduced to the most influential people in London, the better, and I shall do my utmost to ensure they will approve of you.”

How kind of her to go to such trouble for me.

“Since your future engagement to Darcy is a secret for now, our association can be explained by your connexion to Darcy through your brother-in-law and your friendship with Georgiana.”

“Thank you, my lady. I appreciate your consideration.”

“You are welcome.” The countess’s hand swept towards Mr. Wood. “As for you, your familial connexion and the fact you reside at Darcy House are advantages, and my family’s public acceptance of you will encourage others to follow suit.” She smoothed the skirt of her gown. “My nephew indicated you wish to retain the name of your adoptive parents.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I urge you to reconsider. For you to retain the name of a tradesman will be a constant reminder of your former life. In contrast, if you take the Darcy name, your acceptance by my friends and neighbours will be facilitated.”

Mr. Wood pressed the back of his hand to his lips. “My late parents were admirable people in every way, and I want to honour them.”

“Your intent is commendable. But contemplate what they would want for you. Do you not believe they would encourage you to take your true name and accept the associated advantages of that choice?”

Mr. Wood fiddled with the buttons on his coat. “I am…not certain.”

“Although you never had the opportunity to meet them”—the countess gave Fitzwilliam a brief look—“Mr. George Darcy and Lady Anne Darcy were fine and admirable people.”

“Yes, I know. My cousins have shared enough anecdotes about them to make that clear.” Mr. Wood released a heavy breath. “On second thoughts, I see your point. I should be honoured to take the Darcy name.”

“That is excellent.” Lady Matlock clapped her palms together. “Now then, I must return to Rosings Park in a few days, so we have no time to waste. I should like you both to attend two afternoon parties here, tomorrow and on Thursday, so you may meet the best and most influential people without delay.”

“Excuse me, my lady.” Mr. Wood, or rather Mr. Miles Darcy, tilted his head. “At some point, I shall encounter people who knew me in Bath. I doubt anyone of the gentry will associate me with the cobbler’s shop, since we almost always dealt with servants, but those who commissioned my portraits know me as ‘Mr. Wood’.”

Lady Matlock nodded. “Yes, and you must have signed your paintings that way. Well, you may sign any future paintings as ‘Mr. Darcy’ and explain your former use of an alias as a choice you took to honour the couple who raised you. You may say that since you have connected with your Darcy relations, you decided to use your true name.”

“Very well.” He shifted to face me. “Miss Bennet, lest it may prove cumbersome to be acquainted with two Mr. Darcys, you and your family could refer to me as ‘Mr. Miles’. What do you think?”

“Yes, I like that suggestion.” I turned towards my aunt and uncle, who both expressed their agreement.

The countess related a series of admonitions designed to increase our chances of success and minimise the risk of raising anyone’s vexation. She said nothing surprising or alarming, yet her instructions exacerbated my anxiety: What would happen if, despite my best efforts, these exalted denizens rejected me?

Wednesday, 3 June

Gracechurch Street

Elizabeth

Due to the warm, sunny weather, Fitzwilliam had arranged to take me to Lady Matlock’s home in a phaeton.

Once we entered the road, Mr. Darcy glanced my way, and his jaw clinched. “We did not have an opportunity to speak in private last night. My aunt is an ideal person to coordinate your introduction to London society, but I hope you did not find her to be officious.”

“No, I am grateful for her assistance. The last thing I should want is to be a detriment to your reputation and standing.”

He moved the reins to his right hand, and his left one covered my wrist. His dark eyes held me. “You could never be a detriment to me.”

His assurance, though welcome and appreciated, could not alter the importance of these initial introductions. One influential and vocal detractor could do me a world of harm.

Before we reached the drawing-room, Mr. Miles spied us and came to extend his greetings. He directed a teasing grin my way. “Well, Miss Bennet, London’s shrewdest and most ruthless denizens await you. Are you ready for the perilous feat of winning their collective approval?” His facetious tone negated any possible disquiet on my part.

“You cannot be referring to this group.” Fitzwilliam tipped his head towards Lady Matlock’s other guests, visible through the open doorway. “Charming them will be child’s play for Miss Bennet.”

I arched my eyebrow. “Your vote of confidence is appreciated, even though your characterisation of my skills is exaggerated.” I turned back to Mr. Miles. “In answer to your question, I am prepared. Nevertheless, since you arrived before me, I should be glad to accept any advice or caveats you may offer. Perhaps you have identified a potential hazard or two.”

“Well, the truth is…” Mr. Miles bent his head closer to mine. “They have all been exceedingly kind. You have no reason for concern.”

A soft laugh escaped me. “I am relieved to hear it.”

Fitzwilliam shook his head at Mr. Miles in a show of feigned disapproval. Mr. Miles raised his hands in an equally playful gesture of mercy. I followed their antics, testimony to their easy rapport, with a broad smile. After spending much of his youth as an only child, Fitzwilliam must take delight in the close bond he shared with Mr. Miles.

When we entered the drawing-room, Lady Matlock greeted Fitzwilliam and me. She manoeuvred us to a short, slight elderly gentleman, whom she introduced as Mr. Talbot. The genial, grey-haired man exchanged a few remarks with me before initiating a conversation with Fitzwilliam regarding a mutual acquaintance. The countess took the opportunity to lead me away.

We went throughout the room to meet the others: five well-dressed ladies ranging in age from about forty to sixty. After I met the final pair—Lady Ayles, a short, plump lady with a jovial visage, and Mrs. Barton, a tall, thin, grey-haired lady—the countess prompted the former to describe a play she had attended on Saturday.

Lady Ayles agreed to the suggestion with enthusiasm. In the midst of Lady Ayles’s detailed review of the performance, Lady Matlock slipped away. On the other side of the room, the other lady guests engaged Mr. Miles in conversation. At one point, Lady Ayles stalled in her recital, unable to recall the name of one of the actors in the play.

Mrs. Barton inched closer to me. “I am puzzled as to why you are here, Miss Bennet.”

Goodness , this lady wasted no time on a pretence of politeness. “Well…um…Mr. Darcy introduced me to Lady Matlock, and she was kind enough to—”

“Ah yes.” Mrs. Barton held her palm up. “Lady Matlock already explained that you met her nephew in Hertfordshire and your sister married a friend of his. Nevertheless, you stay at the home of a tradesman— that is a significant disadvantage for the countess to have dismissed. There must be another reason for her to introduce you to us. We are her most prominent and influential peers.” Her grey eyebrows drew together. “It struck me that one of her sons could be courting you, yet I do not imagine she would approve of you as a match for either of them.”

How dare she? And yet…she spoke the truth. With a steady breath, I quashed my indignation. “I have no romantic association with either of the countess’s sons. Lady Matlock shows extraordinary kindness to have invited me today. I suppose she is fond of me.”

“Hmm.” Based upon Mrs. Barton’s crinkled nose, she viewed my explanation with scepticism.

Lady Ayles set her teacup on a nearby table and licked her lips. “Miss Bennet, maybe you have no designs upon the viscount or the colonel, but you must admire this new Darcy cousin. What a delight he is—so handsome and urbane, yet mysterious as well with those unusual and striking eyes. He is certain to be a darling of the beau monde .” She glanced my way as she selected a biscuit from the desserts on the table. “And yet…I noticed you arrived with Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. What may we infer from that?”

With a short laugh, Mrs. Barton gave Lady Ayles’s shoulder a playful push. “Oh no, you cannot think he is courting her. The master of Pemberley is known to be proud—he would never settle for a lady in Miss Bennet’s situation.” She looked over her shoulder at Fitzwilliam. “He appears to be in a sociable mood today, which is singular. It has been rare for him to attend parties or balls—and when he has, he has often been aloof and neglectful. Perhaps Lady Matlock has provided her guidance to ensure he will find a wife.”

“That is a fanciful notion.” Lady Ayles arranged her scarf. “Why would a desirable bachelor like him need her assistance?”

“Lest you forget, he bungled his opportunity to court my niece Miss Mary Ann. You must remember—he danced with her at Almack’s in February and then never called upon her.”

Lady Ayles raised her napkin, obscuring her simper. “Oh yes, that instance had slipped my mind.”

“Soon thereafter, Mary Ann met her future husband, the baronet.” Mrs. Barton turned back to me. “In any case, you would make an adequate match for Mr. Miles Darcy. He spoke of you in complimentary terms before your arrival.”

“Why yes.” Lady Ayles’s head bobbed in a fervent style. “He praised you to the skies!”

Mrs. Barton touched my arm. “Of course, maybe you are unnerved by his appearance. I admit to having been uneasy when I first noticed his mismatched eyes. I did not know this occurred in people—unless they suffered from disease or injury, and that does not seem to be the case.”

“Not at all. I have not known Mr. Miles Darcy for long, but I consider him to be a fine man, both in appearance and in essentials.” While I could not reveal the truth, I could at least clarify the platonic nature of my friendship with Mr. Miles. “Nevertheless, he is not courting me”—I waited a beat—“and neither is anyone else.” Thanks to my father’s dictate .

Mrs. Barton took a sip of negus as she studied me. “With a bit of effort on your part, you may be able to change that. Mr. Miles Darcy already likes you, so a little encouragement from you may be all that is necessary for him to consider you in a romantic vein. As an artist, he is not the best of matches, but without a substantial dowry, you cannot expect to entice a wealthy landowner.”

“Take care now—you do not want to raise the young lady’s hopes.” Lady Ayles’s gaze moved from Mrs. Barton to me. “Although it is obvious Mr. Miles approves of you, the Darcy name and the support of his cousin and Lady Matlock may allow him to marry better than he would otherwise. He may set his sights upon a wealthy society lady.”

I bit down to suppress a grin. “I appreciate the warning.”

But Mrs. Barton showed no sign of being swayed by her friend’s admonition. “Do not be discouraged, young lady. Although Mr. Miles Darcy may become popular, he will remain an anomaly. Therefore, he is not above your station.”

“I assure you that I have no—” My mouth snapped shut as Lady Matlock appeared at my side and touched my shoulder.

“Pardon me, ladies, I must steal Miss Bennet away for a moment.” With a nod to Mrs. Barton and Lady Ayles, I followed Lady Matlock to an alcove on the other side of the room. She turned towards me. “Thus far, has anyone been discourteous to you?”

“No, they have all been gracious.”

“That is well. I thought as much but wanted to be certain. Lady Ayles and Mrs. Barton have sharp tongues at times. From what I have observed, you have made a fine first impression upon the group. However, keep in mind once the news of your engagement spreads, you may encounter a different sentiment. Certain people of our acquaintance, including the aforementioned two ladies, are apt to take offence you secured such an advantageous match—especially those who have a daughter, cousin, or niece who failed to attract him. I shall do my best to smooth your way, but you must be prepared when the time comes for a degree of animosity from them.”

“Very well. I understand.”

“London society tends to retain the appearance of civility, but it can become malicious at times. Think carefully during these next weeks if you truly want to enter this world. Mr. Bennet, whatever his motives may have been, has provided you a rare opportunity. You may decide you are better off marrying a gentleman with a more modest situation. If so, you may break from my nephew without harm to your reputation.”

My breath caught. Did she intend to scare me off? “It seems you do not approve of me as a spouse for Mr. Darcy.”

Her lips curved in a wry style. “In truth, I am undecided whether my obstinate nephew made a disastrous mistake he will not realise until it is too late or if he made a clever choice. Regardless, it is in the family’s best interest that Darcy’s future wife be accepted in London, and I shall do my part to ensure that happens.” With a parting nod, she strode away.

The weight of her words pressed upon me, and my bearing shrank. What if Fitzwilliam had made a mistake? Could his affection for me be a transient sentiment? Nothing would be worse than being married to a man who regretted having chosen me. No, that would not happen; Fitzwilliam loved me. I braced my back at the sound of footfalls and attempted to regain my poise for Mr. Talbot, who approached me.

He lifted a small plate before me. “Have you tried the sponge-cake, Miss Bennet? It is divine.”

“No, I have not, but it looks delicious.”

He pressed the plate into my hand. “Please, take this. I have had two slices already.”

“Well, in that case, thank you.” He watched me expectantly, so I took a small bite. The moist, delicate confection filled my mouth. “This is very good.”

“I am glad you like it.” He glanced at Mr. Miles, who stood with Lady Ayles. “You and the young artist make a handsome couple.”

For a moment it seemed I should choke on a morsel of cake, but a hard swallow precluded any difficulty. “Oh no, Mr. Miles Darcy and I are no more than friends.”

The gentleman’s grey brows lifted, and his blue eyes sparkled. “Ah, that is a surprise. I noted your banter with him when you arrived, and the affinity between the two of you is overt.”

“In actuality, our acquaintance is new, so even the thought of a courtship between us is premature.”

“Well, I hope you will forgive an old man for his fanciful imaginings. Nothing warms my heart more than observing young people happy and in love.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Darn , Papa had not realised the trouble his decree would cause. How many others would imagine a romantic association between Mr. Miles and me?

Thursday, 4 June

Matlock House

Darcy

A footman entered the drawing-room and strode to me. “This just came for you, Mr. Darcy.” He held out a small note.

“Thank you.” I stood, accepted the correspondence, and stepped out of the room. Elizabeth and Miles appeared to have won the approval of the select group of guests Lady Matlock had gathered today, much as they had done yesterday. Thanks to my aunt’s efforts, their entry to society had a fine beginning. I appreciated her assistance all the more in consideration of her initial doubts towards Elizabeth—and, to a lesser extent, towards Miles. By now, though, she must recognise Elizabeth’s many admirable qualities.

I skimmed the brief note written in Lady Catherine’s distinctive hand. She begged me to come to Kent at once. Anne’s health had deteriorated in the last two days such that she may have little time remaining. Damn , I ought to have gone there before now. But I had not wanted to leave before ensuring Miles would be content living in London, and I had been loath to miss the parties Lady Matlock had planned for Elizabeth and him.

“Darcy, is anything wrong?”

I shifted towards Lady Matlock. “Lady Catherine wrote to say Anne’s condition has worsened. I must go to Rosings at once.”

“Oh dear.” She raised a hand to her chest. “Wait here, and I shall send Miss Bennet to you so you may make your farewell. I shall tell the others you had to leave. Please let Lady Catherine know I shall return to Rosings tomorrow.”

“Yes, I shall do so.”

“Our driver will take Miss Bennet home.”

“Thank you.”

My aunt left. A minute later, Elizabeth appeared and rushed towards me. “Is anything amiss?” Upon receiving my explanation, she took my hand. “I am very sorry for Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh…and I am selfishly grieved that you must go.”

“If that makes you selfish, then I am far more so.” Although we lacked privacy, I could not resist a brief kiss. Her eyelids closed as I made contact, and her exquisite softness posed a tremendous temptation. Despite my longing to continue, I pulled away.

She opened her eyes and took a slow breath. “I do not suppose you know how long you will be away.”

“No, I do not.” I raised her hand and kissed her slender wrist. “I shall return as soon as I may.”

“Will Georgiana accompany you?”

“No. We have discussed the topic, and she does not want to go. She is uncomfortable around Lady Catherine even in the best of circumstances. And since Mrs. Annesley returned yesterday, there is no question of impropriety if I leave her at home with our ‘ cousin’ .”

“Then I shall call upon her whilst you are gone.”

“I appreciate that.” An elusive concept niggled at me for a moment before the notion took shape. “Mrs. Annesley is aware of our understanding. Georgiana felt it would be awkward to keep this from her. I hope you do not mind.”

“No, not at all.”

My chest heaved. I needed to leave yet could not bring myself to release her hand.

As though sensing my inner turmoil, Elizabeth extricated her fingers from mine and took a backwards step. Her right arm crossed over to grip her left elbow. “Have a safe journey.”

“Thank you.” Her pink lips stole my focus. However, I repressed the desire to capture them again and settled for a long look at her beloved countenance before forcing myself to walk away.

Elizabeth

When the last of Lady Matlock’s guests had departed, the countess directed Mr. Miles and me to sit with her.

She crossed her ankles and eyed us with a self-satisfied look. “Well, today’s gathering went even better than I had anticipated.” She raised an index finger to Mr. Miles. “I predict not only will you soon have more clients than you can accommodate, but several of your new acquaintances will be eager to introduce you to their daughters or nieces.”

A reddish hue darkened his ears. “Whether or not that comes to pass, I owe you a great debt. I appreciate all you have done for me.”

“I am grateful to you as well, my lady.” I inclined my head.

“You are both most welcome,” said Lady Matlock. “From what I observed today, the two of you complement each other well. In addition, I found your conversations with my friends to be informative.” Her hand swayed towards Mr. Miles. “Whereas you are knowledgeable in the arts and sciences”—she gestured to me—“ you are well-versed in music and literature. We should do well to take advantage of this unique situation. You two have similar disadvantages and share a common goal. I want you to attend future gatherings together as friends—this will discourage anyone from criticising either one of you.”

“Yes, that makes sense.” Mr. Miles’s gaze shifted to me. “Two people can accomplish far more than one. And if anyone is misguided enough to disparage you in my presence, they will have to answer to me.”

“Thank you. I should speak in your defence as well.” But I took a ragged breath as the statements made by Mrs. Barton and Mr. Talbot came to me. To my knowledge, no one had raised the topic today, but that did not negate the possibility one or more of the guests held a similar suspicion. “Yesterday, both Mrs. Barton and Mr. Talbot suggested Mr. Miles and I might be courting. Of course, I contradicted them. Still, I should not want others to form the same impression.”

Lady Matlock gave me a dismissive wave. “Do not give that a thought. If the subject should arise again, both of you will insist your association is platonic.”

Did she not foresee any possible hazards in this course? “Some people may persist in their beliefs nevertheless.”

“If so, their surmisal will work to your mutual advantage. After all, the more they speculate about you, the more interested their acquaintances will be to meet you. And once your engagement to my nephew becomes common knowledge, they will be absorbed with that revelation for a while before they move on to speculate who will take the fancy of Darcy’s dapper cousin.”

Mr. Miles chuckled. “The notion of being considered ‘eligible’ among the gentry is foreign to me.”

The countess gave him a slight smile. “This is but one of the advantages you may expect from your situation.”

Although I retained a sliver of remaining doubt for Lady Matlock’s suggestion, I attempted to dismiss it; she would not have recommended this plan if she did not believe it to be the best way. “I suppose Miss Darcy could accompany the two of us in public whenever possible.”

“Yes, but as my niece is not yet out, please limit any excursions with her to once in any given week.”

“We shall do that,” said Mr. Miles.

The countess pressed her palms upon her thighs. “Now, since I am returning to Rosings Park tomorrow, you two will be on your own for a while. I suggest you arrange to appear together at several public places in the coming days. Choose locations where you might encounter your new acquaintances—Hyde Park in the late afternoon is a fine choice, as is Gunter’s, Piccadilly, a concert, or a museum.”

“Very well.” Mr. Miles turned to me. “Shall we go to Gunter’s with Georgiana tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that would be delightful.” I leaned closer to Lady Matlock. “When you see Mr. Darcy, will you ensure he is made aware of your design for Mr. Miles and me?”

“Ah, you are wary of arousing my nephew’s jealousy. Yes, I shall inform him of the scheme and emphasise it is my idea.” Lady Matlock rose, prompting Mr. Miles and me to stand. “If you will excuse me, I must prepare for my trip.” Her sight fixed on me. “My carriage is waiting to take you home.”

Mr. Miles and I thanked her a final time before we took our leave. Mr. Miles indicated he and Georgiana would call for me tomorrow at one o’clock.

Gracechurch Street

Elizabeth

When I reached my uncle’s home, Lydia greeted me in the vestibule.

She took me by the arm and pulled me into the morning room. “I have awaited you all afternoon. Did you see Mr. Wood—or rather Mr. Miles—today?”

“Yes.” I drifted into a stiff comportment. In a weak moment, I had assented to Lydia’s dogged pleas to pass on a greeting to him from her and make a flattering remark on her behalf. Despite my attempts to dissuade her, she clung to the hope he might develop a romantic interest in her.

“Did you mention me to him?”

“Indeed, I told him that you were learning to play ‘Greensleeves’ on the pianoforte.”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “And how did he respond?”

“He said he would enjoy hearing you play the song.” Faced with Lydia’s rapturous expression, I took hold of her shoulder. “For your own benefit, you must dispense with this fascination for Mr. Miles. He will be introduced to many eligible ladies during his stay in town. I urge you to forget about him and focus upon your studies. Once Mrs. Perry deems you ready, you will meet other bachelors.”

“But there is no one else like him.” Her features pinched. “What if we are meant for each other? Is that not a possibility?”

“That is most improbable.”

With a groan, Lydia turned to go but halted and peeked back at me. “Will you come to my room and help me practise my Italian?”

“I shall meet you after I have changed.”

“Thank you.” She continued towards the stairs.

The sound of voices drew me to the drawing-room, where I found Aunt Gardiner and Mrs. Perry seated on the sofa with goblets of sherry. They beckoned me to join them. I sat across from them and declined my aunt’s offer of wine.

Once I had related what took place at the party, it occurred to me to solicit their opinions. “What do you think of Lady Matlock’s suggestion for Mr. Miles and me? Does her advice seem sound?”

“I think her idea is a worthy one, with one caveat.” Mrs. Perry’s forehead furrowed. “Do you have any doubt for Mr. Miles’s character?”

“No, none whatsoever. Mr. Darcy trusts him, or he would not have invited him into his home. And he has left Miss Darcy at the house with him.”

“Is Miss Darcy’s companion there as well?” asked my aunt.

“Yes.”

“Well, I believe Lady Matlock is perhaps the best possible person to aid you and Mr. Miles in your introductions to London society. You ought to follow her advice.”

Mrs. Perry met my gaze. “I concur.”

“That is good to hear. I shall go to Gunter’s tomorrow with Mr. Miles and Miss Darcy.”

Aunt Gardiner set her sherry down with a clink. “Oh, you will never guess who came to see you today.”

Who in town would call for me? “No, I cannot imagine whom you mean.”

“Miss Caroline Bingley .” My aunt smirked as she articulated the name. “She left her card for you. And when Barnet informed her that you were not at home, she asked to see me .”

Egad , why would Miss Bingley call here? “I am bewildered. Although we are now related by marriage, she detests me. She did not say more than a few words to me either at the dinner she hosted or during the wedding feast.”

“She treated me in a similar way. My guess is she learnt of your friendship with Lady Matlock and hopes to meet the lady through you. Based upon Miss Bingley’s speech today, an uninformed person would think you and she had always been close.”

“It seems the woman will go to great lengths to raise her standing.”

“Oh yes, she pressed me for details about Mr. Miles and Lady Matlock.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Very little. I led her to believe I anticipated Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy would be displeased if I discussed his cousin or his exalted aunt. Miss Bingley attempted to dissuade me of this notion and turned beetroot red with frustration when her tactic failed.”

I burst out in giggles. “I cannot say I am sorry to know she left dissatisfied.” I reposed against my chair. “Now it seems I am obligated to send her my card, and to call upon her as well.”

Mrs. Perry gave me a nod. “Yes, you cannot avoid paying her this courtesy, especially in consideration of your family connexion.” She sent a glance to Aunt Gardiner. “However, Modesty recounted Miss Bingley’s rude treatment of Jane this past winter. In my opinion, you may wait a week or so to repay this particular civility.”

“Indeed.” My chin inched upwards. “I shall see her at my leisure.”