Chapter 10 Ensconced
CHAPTER TEN
ENSCONCED
Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh had gone into their country estate for Lent and Easter but returned to town immediately upon their conclusion. Elizabeth thus moved into their London town house on March thirty-first, trepidation and enthusiasm both mingling within her breast.
On her first evening there, they were bidden to go to the house immediately adjacent to Rosings House. Matlock House was the town residence of the Earl of Matlock and his family which included Lord Saye. She hoped the others would prove as agreeable as he had.
Matlock House was larger than Rosings House but decorated in a fashion that involved brighter colours and less gilding.
Elizabeth liked it very well and immediately complimented the countess on her excellent taste.
“Of course,” she added, looking at Lady Catherine, “I never imagined myself living in any place as fine as the two homes I have been introduced to today. Quite lovely, both. I hardly feel deserving of it all.”
It pleased Lady Catherine to hear her say so; Elizabeth could see it in the way she lifted her chin a little and almost smiled. “Miss Bennet,” she announced, “has excellent manners. Do you not agree, Sister?”
“Most certainly, I agree,” said Lady Matlock with a gentle smile. “But do allow me to introduce you to the others.”
She began with Lord Matlock; he was the sort of man who took up a great deal of space, both physically and in his demeanour. He greeted her kindly but with reserve which was not unexpected for a man of his elevated status.
After he was introduced, Lord Matlock turned to the lady who stood beside him.
She was a younger girl whose looks fell just short of handsome.
Her figure was lovely and well-formed, and her clothing was of the latest style, clearly expensive and well-made.
She stared at her shoes, blushing to the roots of her hair while being introduced; Elizabeth wondered at her discomfiture.
“Georgiana, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Bennet, my niece, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”
Elizabeth was immediately curious. Of course she was sister of the infamous Mr Darcy whom they were all so displeased by, but was her brother also a mysterious figure who enjoyed haunting back rooms at country assemblies?
Lady Matlock had continued in her introduction. “Georgiana lives here with us, so you may expect to see her often, particularly now there are two young ladies in residence at Rosings House. Is that not right, Georgiana?”
The girl glanced up for a moment, just long enough to offer a fleeting smile, and lowered her gaze once again.
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “I do hope we will see you often next door.”
“Th-thank you,” said Miss Darcy.
Lord Saye and another gentleman then entered the drawing room. Elizabeth was introduced to the other man, who was Lord Saye’s younger brother Colonel Fitzwilliam and who seemed very agreeable. Following that, dinner was called.
It was a rather different experience than the family dinners she was accustomed to at Longbourn. Though her mother set a fine table, dinner was generally loud, and arguments, even tears, were not infrequent. Here all were civil, although Anne and Miss Darcy were both very quiet.
In Anne’s case, speaking was not strictly necessary as Lady Catherine was more than happy to speak for her daughter, answering questions in her stead and saying things like “Anne, do tell your aunt about your interview with Lady Cartwright” only to proceed with the tale herself seconds later.
Miss Darcy was silent but not disinterested.
She found the courage to raise her eyes from her dinner part-way through the soup.
After that, her bright eager eyes darted about the table, taking in every morsel of conversation offered, though she did not offer any herself.
Elizabeth found herself inexplicably interested in the girl, particularly as Miss Darcy’s eyes often came to her.
After some time, Miss Darcy worked up the courage to ask a question. “Do you like music, Miss Bennet?”
“I do,” said Elizabeth. “I play the pianoforte, though my proficiency is severely hindered by my disinclination towards practice. I sing too. Do you?”
The girl blushed. “Yes, I love music. I love to play the pianoforte and the harp. I sing too, but rather poorly I fear.”
“I sing much better than I play so, between the pair of us, we may just make a go of things. Perhaps we can practise together some day?”
“I would like that,” said Miss Darcy, light colour rising in her cheeks.
A charming creature. Shy but agreeable once you can make her speak. Elizabeth had a distinct sense that a witty girl laid beneath Miss Darcy’s reserve, and she hoped she would learn more of her. And her brother?
The card table was brought out after dinner and the elders of the party, and Anne, sat with alacrity. Elizabeth declined to play as did Lord Saye and the colonel; Miss Darcy moved to the instrument in the far corner and began to play at a low volume.
Saye tossed himself onto the sofa next to Elizabeth. “Tell me, Miss Bennet: would you rather inherit fifty thousand pounds or live to be one hundred?”
The colonel groaned loudly and took up a newspaper on the table in front of his chair. “Pray do not task Miss Bennet with your stupid games, Saye.”
“Stupid is as stupid does,” Saye informed him. “Your answer, Miss Bennet?”
“Oh, the money, of course,” Elizabeth replied. “I would never wish to live so long.”
“No? Why not? I should think it a splendid thing.”
“You would have to be witness to the deaths of all your friends and family,” she said. “To say nothing of bearing the ravages of time for so many years. No, I would much rather enjoy a fortune and die when I must.”
“Die young and leave a toothsome corpse,” Saye concluded. “I like that. Nicely played. Now ask me one.”
Elizabeth pondered a moment, her eyes watching the fire. She had never contemplated the luxury of fire until she was made to do without. “Ah! I have one. If you could choose someone of your acquaintance, anyone, to receive a large fortune—”
“How large?” Saye interrupted.
“One hundred thousand pounds. You cannot keep it, nor can you give it to your wife or father or child or anyone else who might die and permit you to inherit it.”
“A conundrum indeed! You are good at this.” He nodded approvingly but appeared to be considering his dilemma. At length his face lit up. “Ambrose!”
“Who is Ambrose?” Elizabeth asked.
“Housekeeper at Matlock Park,” said the colonel from behind his paper.
“How surprised she would be! Why, the look on her face alone would be well worth the money!” Lord Saye’s face clouded. “Of course, she would likely give up being housekeeper… But never mind that. She is a dear old soul, and I would relish seeing her swan about town as a grand lady.”
Elizabeth smiled at him. For all his airs, she rather liked Lord Saye.
“Would you rather starve to death or die in a mine collapse?” was Saye’s next question.
“Mine collapse,” she said. “I like to eat too well.”
He laughed as she continued to speak. “Would you rather be grotesquely fat or excessively ugly?”
“Fat,” he said. “One can always reduce by a stone or two, but being ugly is inescapable. Is that not right, Richard?”
The colonel, who appeared engrossed in the newspaper, raised his eyes. “Hmm? Is what right?”
Saye chuckled with glee. “We were speaking of the difficulties of being ugly. I thought immediately to consult your opinion, naturally.”
The colonel only shook his head and returned his attention to the paper.
His brother continued with his little game. “If you had a chance to learn your future,” Saye asked her, “would you?”
Elizabeth began to say yes but then paused. “Well…perhaps not. Would I be able to change any of it? Or only know of it?”
“You could not change it,” Lord Saye decreed. “Only know it.”
“Then no, I would wish to remain ignorant. Would you wish to know?”
“I already do,” he said with a sigh. “Marry one of these earls’ daughters my father insists on parading before me, force myself to beget an heir with her, sit in Parliament and argue about legal tangles, and eventually die.”
“A grim picture indeed,” said Elizabeth with a laugh.
“Life is grim,” Lord Saye informed her. “It is only those we love who make it tolerable.”
“An intriguing philosophy,” Elizabeth said.
“You and Darcy, the family lovers,” the colonel remarked idly to his brother. “I should never have imagined it.”
“Mr Darcy wished to marry for love?” Elizabeth asked. Another similarity with Mr D, she mused.
Lord Saye shrugged. “I suppose he wished to have at least some thin inclination for his bride—and his bride for him.”
“I had imagined Miss de Bourgh was inclined to marry him?” Elizabeth enquired. The colonel and viscount did not seem to mind her curiosity, so she thought she ought to indulge herself in it while she could.
The colonel laid aside his newspaper. “Perhaps not the usual sort of inclination, but I think—”
Elizabeth had no idea what he meant, but Lord Saye interrupted before she could ask. “’Tis all a bit incestuous if you ask me.”
The colonel immediately protested. “Cousins marrying has happened for centuries—”
“With Prinny to show for it. I daresay we ought to come up with something new,” Lord Saye retorted.
“In any case, at best it was an affectation to behave as though the Fitzwilliam bloodline was so very precious as to say they could only marry into their own. At worst…” He gave Elizabeth and the colonel a severe look. “Incest.”
“It was not incest!” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
Lord Saye cast a quick look at the card tables and then leant forwards, lowering his voice. “It was the planned realisation of Lady Catherine’s former tendre for George Darcy, and that you cannot deny!”