Mr Darcy’s Legacy

Chapter 4

D arcy rose to his feet with alacrity to greet his august aunt. The unexpected arrival of Lady Matlock, after the discourse of the previous evening, had filled his heart with a palpable sense of anticipation yet covered in uncertainty.

“Lady Matlock—welcome,” he said, calm yet slightly suspicious, a disposition he could hardly hide.

“Good evening,” replied her ladyship, her elegance and formality casting a scrutinising glance about the room, her curiosity barely concealed. “I trust we are not late?”

“Not in the least. Pray, do come in,” Darcy assured her. Then, with a touch of formality, he gestured towards his betrothed and her family. “May I have the honour of presenting my intended, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, along with her family?”

Everyone rose to bow and courtesy to her ladyship as she responded with a slight nod of her head. The viscount was elegant and friendly in his manner, while the colonel did not refrain from expressing his delight.

“Miss Elizabeth, what a pleasure to see you once more! I declare, you are lovelier than when we last met. I must extend my congratulations—or rather, congratulate my cousin for securing so fine a lady.” With these words, Colonel Fitzwilliam took Elizabeth’s hands with a familiarity that bespoke genuine warmth.

“Thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she replied with a radiant smile. “It is a pleasure to see you again as well.”

“I believe dinner is ready. Shall we?” Darcy invited the party to move into the dining room, which they did in silence, stealing curious glances at each other.

Lady Matlock was invited to sit at the head of the table opposite Darcy.

As the assembly settled into their places, her ladyship addressed Elizabeth with an unmistakable air of purpose.

“Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the favour of sitting beside me? I should very much like the opportunity for conversation.”

A slight furrow appeared on Darcy’s brow, and for an instant, he seemed poised to intervene. Yet, ever perceptive, Elizabeth offered him a reassuring smile before turning to Lady Matlock. “Thank you, your ladyship. I should like that very much.”

With quiet composure, she took the designated seat, her gaze flickering towards Darcy at the other end of the table. There was concern in his eyes, though she felt no such disquiet. After enduring the imperious Lady Catherine de Bourgh and suffering the slights of the Bingley sisters, little indeed could unsettle her.

However, Lady Matlock was an impressive and elegant presence, both in appearance and manners, which was totally lacking in Lady Catherine. During dinner, she asked several questions about Elizabeth’s family, how she intended to spend her time in London, and her preferences in books, theatre, and opera. Elizabeth knew she was under scrutiny. She could easily understand Lady Matlock’s concern regarding her nephew’s future, so she bore the rather indiscreet and lengthy inquiry with patience and a light heart.

As the final course was served, Lady Matlock, with calculated ease, introduced a new subject. “There is to be a rather special performance at the opera the day after tomorrow. Our party will be in attendance, as, I daresay, will many of our acquaintances. Would you care to join us, Miss Elizabeth?”

The unexpected invitation caused Elizabeth to glance instinctively at Darcy, then back at her ladyship, before her gaze returned to him again.

Lady Matlock, meanwhile, continued, her smile polite yet calm. “I regret to say that our box will be rather full. However, there will be ample room for yourself, Darcy, and Georgiana.”

A weighty silence fell over the table. Elizabeth felt the sharp sting of the implication—the unspoken delineation between herself and her family, the clear demarcation of social standing that Lady Matlock sought to establish. What had been, mere moments ago, an evening of amiable conversation now carried the unmistakable chill of division.

To the astonishment of all, Mr Bennet broke the silence. “I am certain my daughter would be delighted to accept your ladyship. She has always been fond of theatre and opera, and it would be a shame for her to miss such an opportunity.”

Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a glance of mutual understanding. Mr Bennet’s words held more significance than their surface politeness suggested—he recognised that this invitation, carefully curated as it was, could mark the beginning of Elizabeth’s formal introduction into the higher echelons of society. It was a step she must take, however imperfect the circumstances.

With measured grace, Elizabeth inclined her head. “Indeed, I am most grateful for the invitation. It is an honour.”

“Excellent,” Lady Matlock declared, her satisfaction evident. Then, with a subtle shift in tone, she addressed the room at large. “Shall we have some music?”

With a shy yet pleased smile, Georgiana nodded and led the way to the parlour.

The rest of the evening passed in an atmosphere of relative peace and mostly in silence. Georgiana played for them; then she asked Elizabeth to sing with her. They made a sweet duet: one with excellent skills on the pianoforte, the other with a serene and pure voice that perfectly complemented the instrument. In the end, Lady Matlock nodded in approval while her sons applauded the performance with spirit. The only ones silent and not engaged with the company were Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley.

The evening had taken a most unwelcome turn for them the moment Lady Matlock extended her invitation to Elizabeth Bennet. Still, they were not yet defeated; an evening at the opera, amidst the finest of London society, might yield fresh fodder for gossip. As far as they were concerned, the war was far from over.

∞∞∞

The following morning, the household staff was introduced to Elizabeth, and then she engaged in a brief conversation with Mrs Gibbon and Mr Parker. They conducted themselves with politeness and appeared pleased to meet their new mistress, who revealed herself to be both gracious and kind-hearted. Enraptured by his marriage and picturing Elizabeth as his wife, Darcy requested that Mrs Gibbon show her the mistress’s apartment and ascertain whether she wished any alterations before returning as Mrs Darcy.

Elizabeth could scarcely speak, overcome by the thought that she would soon inhabit those rooms with her husband just beyond the adjoining door. She gave her approval to all as emotions clouded her perception. Later, once her sentiments had settled, she recalled the style and furnishings of the private parlour and bedchamber that would soon be hers and resolved that some modifications were necessary.

Despite all the difficulties she had encountered, Elizabeth, filled with anticipation, delighted in her time in London. The profound and new emotions she bore for her future husband and the prospect of presiding over such a magnificent household exceeded even her most extravagant dreams. And then, there was the city itself, resplendent and full of promise, the life that awaited her: the theatre, the soirées, and an entirely new existence. Elizabeth was not na?ve; she understood that the ton would not receive her with open arms. She abhorred petty hostilities, veiled slights, cold remarks, and disapproving glances. Yet, she had already been subjected to such treatment by some among Darcy’s circle. And it was but the beginning. Nevertheless, with Fitzwilliam by her side, she was determined to face them all.

At midday, the party visited Bingley’s townhouse so that Jane could glimpse the home where she would soon reside. It was a classical structure, built in the style of the previous century, requiring extensive refurbishment. Yet smiling affectionately, Elizabeth accepted that neither Jane nor Charles possessed any interest in such concerns; their love consumed them entirely. With unguarded enthusiasm, Charles invited his beloved into the parlour, where tea had been prepared, almost forgetting they were not alone. But no one was surprised or displeased; for Bingley, the universe was composed entirely of Jane.

They parted with difficulty, each lady bearing the separation in her own way. Though they had spent their lives together, love and its promise affected them differently. Jane drifted in a blissful haze, untouched by reality. Elizabeth wondered whether her sister would ever descend from this celestial realm to assume the role of mistress of the house and mother. Jane could envision nothing beyond her life as Charles’s wife. In some measure, Elizabeth envied her ability to completely abandon herself to happiness, free from worry.

She was not fashioned thus. Separated from Fitzwilliam, she felt the pangs of absence acutely. Yet she needed him not only to ease the yearning in her heart but also for his steady presence and unwavering support. She saw him as a real man in the real world, although she adored the way he looked at her as if he was ready to forget everything else and be with her only.

Tomorrow, she would take her first steps into a world mercilessly scrutinising her, Elizabeth Bennet—though, more accurately, as Mrs Darcy. The ton was not known for its kindness in judgment.

“Darcy has said that he shall call for you tomorrow afternoon, accompanied by Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Mr Bennet informed Elizabeth.

“Yes,” she replied, her mind elsewhere.

“Lady Edwina, the godmother of Darcy and Georgiana, is expected to arrive at noon and shall attend the opera as well. After the performance, you shall remain at Darcy’s house for the night. I have already given my consent.”

Elizabeth coloured slightly and nodded.

“I trust Lady Edwina is not as severe as Lady Matlock, or else Lizzy shall find little rest, either at the theatre or afterwards,” Mr Gardiner jested.

“I believe Lizzy possesses the courage to withstand them both, though, to be sure, facing Mr Darcy’s noble relations will be no simple feat,” Mrs Gardiner observed.

Elizabeth silently acknowledged the truth of these words. Her occasional visits to London had not acquainted her with the ton . The Gardiners mingled with those of comfortable means but never with the aristocracy. In truth, Elizabeth had never concerned herself with titles and noble lineage. Even wealth had never been of particular consequence to her. She had once envisioned her future as the wife of a well-read, amiable, and honourable gentleman—a clergyman, a solicitor, or a modest landowner without grand pretensions or vanity.

But now, as her wedding day approached, she had to consider what would follow—what it would mean to be Mrs Darcy. Until this moment, she had thought of little beyond the certainty that Fitzwilliam would be her man and they would live together with all that entailed a family. For the first time, the weight of unknown obligations pressed upon her, and she wondered whether she was genuinely equal to what awaited her.

Upon their return home, they were greeted with delight by the four Gardiner children, who took Elizabeth and Jane by the hands, eager to express their affection. Amid laughter and lively chatter, it was some time before the sisters could retire to their rooms. This was the hour of the night they cherished most. As always, they burrowed beneath the blankets, whispering their most intimate thoughts.

“Imagine,” Elizabeth murmured, with a touch of wistfulness, “that we shall no longer be together—like this.”

“Do not speak such nonsense, Elizabeth Bennet! We shall always find a way to be together. It is far better to think of how happy we shall be.”

However, dawn found Elizabeth awake and scared. She barely slept and rested even less. Her heart was filled with Fitzwilliam while her mind was tormented by worry.

She waited impatiently for breakfast and ate in haste, wanting to speak with Mrs Gardiner; unfortunately, her aunt was so busy she did not have a moment to spare. Around noon, Elizabeth finally began to prepare for the evening. Helped by her aunt, she chose her gown and jewels. Then Jane tamed her beautiful hair into a sophisticated coiffure that made her look elegant and stylish. A last glance in the mirror convinced her that she was ready; however, anxiety clouded her beautiful face. Was she elegant enough, refined, or modern like the ladies in London were? All those questions and many others disquieted her, making it impossible for Mrs Gardiner and her sister to calm her.

“You have never cared about such things,” Jane attempted to soothe her.

“Precisely because I have never cared, I have never given them thought, and now I find myself confronted with all that I have so heedlessly disregarded in the past.”

“Cease this torment at once!” ordered Mrs Gardiner. “You are elegant now—look in the mirror, and you shall see it for yourself. You are like any other lady of high society. Yet, you possess something more—intelligence, sarcasm, and the ability to learn what serves you while discarding what does not. Perhaps you shall not be the most refined tonight but remember that you are among the most accomplished women in any society London can boast of. Just look at your betrothed and see his confidence in you.”

Elizabeth kissed Mrs Gardiner in silent gratitude.

And indeed the torment stopped when the Darcys and the colonel appeared, the presence of her betrothed lightening her heart and relieving her concerns.