Chapter 35
Dining Room
Matlock House
Midnight
Serena sighed in relief as she and her partner approached the dining room doorway as the hired musicians fell silent.
The ball was, at last, halfway over, and no catastrophes had yet occurred.
Her feet hurt, and her limbs felt leaden with tiredness; her body protesting this unaccustomed length of exercise.
At least she had not endured the shame that she knew befell some poor unfortunate young ladies, of being left sitting by the wall as others twirled and stepped.
On the contrary, she had danced every set thus far.
Serena was grateful for her succession of partners, well aware that this was of her brother’s designing.
He had introduced her to all of them, old friends of his from Cambridge or Eton or previous Seasons in Town.
Once Richard had stood up with her, which had been her most cheerful dance of the evening, and his elder brother had claimed two sets, including the supper set, so that she need not dine with a relative stranger.
“Would you like to sit with your brother over there, Serena?” Viscount Radway asked her, looking toward a table in the corner of the dining room.
“Oh yes, very much,” Serena said, smiling gratefully at her cousin. She knew her cousin Richard far better than his older brother, but the viscount had easy manners which made her feel comfortable.
A moment later, her heart leaped with joy as she realized that her brother was seated at the same table as all three Bennet ladies plus her cousin Richard. Indeed, there was but one stranger at the table, a young man who looked to be only a year or two past twenty.
“Serena!” Elizabeth Bennet exclaimed, turning a beaming face on her. “Would you like to sit next to me?”
“Very much,” Serena said, and Viscount Radway pulled out an empty chair for her. Once she was safely seated, she felt her body relax, relieved to be in an oasis of calm and friendship for at least the next hour.
“I will fill a plate for you,” Lord Radway stated, and she nodded and said, “Thank you, Cousin.”
“Serena,” Elizabeth said, tilting her head toward the man to her right, who was to her brother Fitzwilliam’s left, “may I please introduce you to my cousin, Mr. Rutherford, Viscount Langdon’s heir? Mr. Rutherford, Miss Darcy.”
Serena inclined her head, and Mr. Rutherford lowered his head in an abbreviated bow. “It is an honor to meet you, Miss Darcy.”
“Likewise, Mr. Rutherford,” she replied, just as a servant walked over and poured wine into the goblet in front of her.
When he retreated, she took a sip as Elizabeth said, apparently continuing an interrupted conversation, “I think it is a rare individual who can write poetry well, but perhaps that does not matter? I do not believe that one must do something well in order to enjoy it, thought I observe they often go hand in hand. Indeed, everyone is a novice when first learning a skill. Is that not true?”
“It is,” Fitzwilliam agreed, “but to my mind, there is a difference between learning to ride and writing poetry. Or perhaps there is a difference between writing poetry and actually showing it to someone. Bad poetry is … bad.”
Elizabeth laughed and said, “Ah, but if a man writes a bad poem in honor of a lady, well, it is still a compliment.”
Mrs. Bennet chuckled and said, “Jane once received some very pretty verses from one of the local young gentlemen in Meryton which, if memory serves me, focused particularly on the beauty of her left eyebrow.”
Serena looked over at Jane Bennet, who grinned and said, “My dear Mamma, the young man in question apparently liked both of my eyebrows.”
This provoked a communal laugh, just as Viscount Radway returned with two plates. He placed one in front of Serena, who, realizing she was quite hungry, picked up her fork and began eating.
“It is a good point, though,” Mr. Rutherford said abruptly, “that one cannot become proficient at something without practicing. Ladies are expected to be accomplished, but more than that, they are expected to learn as girls and display expertise by the time they enter Society. But what if they did not have opportunities earlier, or they do not care about playing the harp or designing tables? Not that learning such accomplishments is wrong, of course…”
The gentleman trailed off, and Serena, for the first time, focused on Mr. Rutherford’s face. He was not particularly handsome, but his blue eyes were intelligent, and his words sensible.
“Or perhaps a lady does like to play the pianoforte,” Elizabeth agreed, “but she also likes to read, and wander around in the woods getting her boots muddy, and play backgammon with her father, well, such a lady might not perform very well at the instrument in spite of being one and twenty!”
It was obvious that Elizabeth was referring to herself, and Serena grinned and was pleased when everyone else at the table smiled or chuckled as well.
So far, the ball had been, if not exactly enjoyable, at least tolerable.
But here, surrounded by friends and family and eating truly excellent food, she felt genuinely happy.
Elizabeth and her family were not the sort of people to think less of a lady because she was very tall, wrote novels in her spare time, and could not play so much as a note on a harp.
She hoped that when she did marry, it would be to a gentleman who truly liked her for who she was, not for her connections and wealth. She prayed that she would live in a home surrounded by love and acceptance.
***
Caroline Bingley took a sip of quite excellent wine and worked hard to keep her expression impassive. She was seated with her sister and brother-in-law at a small table some twenty feet away from the larger table where Fitzwilliam Darcy was sitting.
She was far enough away that she could not overhear any of the conversation at Darcy’s table, but she wrinkled her nose at the gauche enthusiasm on the faces of the Bennet girls.
Really, it was ridiculous that they were here at all!
Yes, the second daughter was apparently very rich, but one needed more than wealth to be accepted by the haut ton, and the Bennet ladies had not even been sent to finishing school.
Her eyes shifted to Fitzwilliam Darcy, and her entire body relaxed a trifle; he was staring at Miss Elizabeth, and his eyes were grave and his expression reserved.
It was satisfying, though not surprising, that the great master of Pemberley disapproved of the ladies from Longbourn.
Indeed, the only truly surprising thing was that the Bennet family had been invited to this ball.
Then again, she knew that Serena Darcy rather liked the Bennets.
Doubtless it was due to her influence that the invitations had been issued.
She sighed and turned back to her white soup, which was, of course, delicious. She only hoped that Mr. Darcy would invite her to dance one of the upcoming sets. She would show those upstart girls how a real lady danced and behaved!
***
The Following Day
Serena made her way slowly down the main stairwell to the vestibule below, leaning on the dark polished oak banister more than was her wont.
The grandfather clock against the wall below her had both hands pointing up at the twelve; it was a rather shocking time, in Serena's opinion, to be waking up for the day.
On the other hand, it was not at all unreasonable, seeing as they had not arrived back at Darcy House until after three hours past midnight, and it had been some time after that before she had at last fallen into bed, utterly spent, where she had slept as soundly as a log.
Her feet ached, as did her legs and her back, from hours upon hours of dancing.
Not once had she been left sitting out against the wall while other young ladies danced, but she had moved from one eager partner to the next.
She could not, truly, have said that she enjoyed herself, not the way some girls did, but she was glad to have had a successful launch.
It had been most kind of her aunt and uncle Matlock to have provided for her debut alongside Rebekah.
Serena covered a yawn as she reached the bottom of the stairs and moved down the hall to the breakfast room.
The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, stepped inside, and glanced around.
Several fragrantly steaming plates of food sat on the buffet table along the far wall, and both her siblings were settled at the dining table with half-empty plates in front of them.
“Serena!” Georgiana exclaimed, leaping to her feet and hurrying forward to embrace her. “How are you this morning? Did you enjoy the ball?”
Serena smiled at her younger sister, heartened by the girl’s enthusiasm.
“I enjoyed it as much as I possibly could,” she said cautiously.
“That is to say, I did enjoy the beauty of the ball and the dancing, at least initially. It was tiring dancing all night, as was speaking to countless people I had only just met, but our brother and cousins and the Bennet ladies were very supportive, so it went … well.”
“Sit down, Sister,” Darcy said, gesturing at an open seat. “I know you are also not accustomed to such late hours. Let me prepare you a plate of food.”
This was absurdly kind, and tears filled Serena’s eyes. What a sympathetic brother she had!
“Fitzwilliam told me that you were a great hit at the ball,” Georgiana remarked as Serena sat down next to her.
Serena laughed and said, “Well, I danced every dance, but I think that was largely because our brother and cousins arranged for various gentlemen to partner with me. No, the great hits were Elizabeth and Jane Bennet.”
Darcy set a cup of coffee down for her, and then a plate with two muffins and some eggs, and Serena took a rapturous sip of the hot liquid before she said, “Thank you very much.”
“Jane and Elizabeth were accepted enthusiastically?” Georgiana asked.