26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
January 1812 Audley Street, London Elizabeth
T he Matlock London residence was an older home with a more imposing facade than Elm House possessed. Despite the very close distance, they took the carriage. Elizabeth mused at the irony. It had taken as long to call their conveyance as it would have to simply walk. But doing so was not done in the first circles, or so Aunt Maria insisted.
No matter, for she eagerly anticipated meeting one of her aunt’s friends. She did not know who else had been included in the invitation, so there was a small chance she would meet other young ladies as well.
Susan had remained behind. From this, Elizabeth surmised that others had been invited. Her young cousin was not yet out, and if it had only been Lady Matlock, then Aunt Maria would have allowed her to attend. Susan handled the disappointment well, though she looked rather dismal as she farewelled her cousins and mama.
A stern-looking butler admitted them to the house, taking their things and handing them off to a footman before leading them down a wide, long hallway. Elizabeth counted the doors as they walked past. When they reached the fourth door on the left, the butler stopped. He turned the handle and stepped aside.
“Lady Elmwood, Miss Bennet, Miss Mary, ma’am.”
They entered the room. An elegant lady rose to greet them. Her gown was finely made, tastefully and simply adorned, and her hair had been done up in an elegant chignon perfect for an afternoon call.
“My dear Maria, it has been an age! We always seem to just miss each other, do we not?”
Aunt Maria stepped forward. “Dear Tilda! Please allow me to present my nieces. This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and this is Miss Mary Bennet.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, do you say? Why does that name sound so familiar?” The lady looked puzzled, but she shrugged indifferently. “No matter. It is a pleasure to meet you! My sons will be joining us shortly, though my nephew cried off. Business, he says, but Darcy is only afraid that I shall force him into a marriage. Silly man.”
Elizabeth could not hide her surprise, and Lady Matlock noticed.
“Do you know my nephew, Miss Bennet?” She gestured at her guests to take a seat.
“A little,” she replied. “We met briefly whilst he stayed in Hertfordshire.”
“Oh, that is why your name sounds familiar! Georgiana shared her brother’s letters. She stayed with us whilst he was gone. I believe he wrote of you.”
“Oh dear,” Elizabeth said, pressing a hand to her flushed cheek. “I can only imagine what he said. I shall never be able to pass myself off with a degree of credit now.”
“His words were only complimentary, I assure you.” Lady Matlock looked aghast. “Darcy would never speak meanly about a lady.”
Mary made a strangled sound and Elizabeth touched her hand. “If you say that it is out of character for your nephew to do so, then I suppose we must trust your superior knowledge of the man.”
“What has Darcy done now?” another voice sounded from the doorway.
“Richard!” Lady Matlock turned her head, presenting it for a kiss. The man who entered the room obliged before straightening and turning toward the company.
His mother performed the introductions, naming the man as Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth examined the newcomer whilst she did so. He was not a handsome man, not like Mr. Darcy—Wickham or Collins either. Yet he had a regal bearing and a charming grin.
“Now that the formalities have been observed, I must insist on an answer, Miss Bennet. Your reply tells me that my cousin has behaved poorly. He often does, though he does not realize he offends.”
“I must beg to differ, sir. How can a man such as Mr. Darcy not realize his manner is offensive? Does he take so little accountability for his actions?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“No, I do not believe it is anything of the sort. Rather, I think Darcy does not like company and so he takes no trouble to be civil. He is not here, as you see. Business over pleasure again, Mother?”
“So, he says.” Lady Matlock sighed. “Now, you must cease pestering Miss Bennet. We have only just formed the acquaintance, and you will drive her away with your silly manners. Where is Bramsley?”
Colonel Ftizwilliam made a face. “He is off to Lady Susanna’s. I believe your attempts to match one of Lady Elmwood’s nieces to him are destined for failure.”
“I did not know Lord Brisby had returned to town,” Aunt Maria said. “I shall have to pay a call upon his wife.”
“Do not bother. His sister is squiring Lady Susanna about town. Lady Brisby remained in the country.” Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged.
“Now, if only we could get Darcy here,” Lady Matlock sighed. “If only I had known he already had a prior acquaintance with Miss Bennet. Perhaps he would have found the time to call.”
“Pray, do not tell him you know me,” Elizabeth blurted. She blushed, mortified.
“Elizabeth!” Aunt Maria looked at her in confusion. “Why not?”
She sighed. “It is only that lately I have been subject to prying questions about my dowry. I would prefer the amount—and my connections—remain unknown. It will allow me some degree of certainty that when a man proposes it is for my sake and not my fortune’s.”
“My cousin is hardly mercenary,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, frowning.
“No, but I have reason to believe that he thinks me quite beneath him. Forgive me, but I wish to be candid, despite our brief acquaintance. The first time I saw Mr. Darcy was at an assembly where he danced only two dances, though more than one young lady sat out without a partner.”
“Yes, that sounds very like Darcy.” Colonel Fitzwillam chuckled. “He does not enjoy dancing.”
“There were other things, both that night and whilst he stayed with his friend, that led me to believe he has no desire for my nor any of my family’s acquaintance.” She glanced at Mary. Her sister kept her gaze affixed on her lap, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Forgive me,” Elizabeth murmured. “I ought not to have spoken so about your relation.”
“It is hardly surprising.” Lady Matlock shook her head. “The dear boy has been pursued since he came of age. And inheriting at such a young age made everything worse. Now, he avoids company whenever he can. I am sorry he made such a poor first impression. Please, believe me when I say that he is not the person he shows the world.”
Most are not. Elizabeth considered again her musings about character and countenance. He seemed very different when we met in the park. Maybe there is more to find behind his imposing mask of hauteur.
A maid came in bearing a tea tray, and Lady Matlock began to serve. Colonel Fitzwilliam positioned himself next to Elizabeth. They began a lively discussion about his last campaign on the continent. His stories were likely exaggerated, but they held her in rapt attention, anyway.
Mary seemed content to participate in the conversation between Lady Matlock and Aunt Maria. They spoke of music and other London attractions.
“You all ought to come to the theater this week,” Lady Matlock declared. “One of Shakespeare’s comedies is playing. Much Ado About Nothing, I believe.”
“Oh, let us go!” Elizabeth said, turning to her aunt. “You know how dearly I love to laugh.”
“I shall check our schedule and see when we might find time. There are only a few invitations that I have accepted so far, and most are not until next week.”
“We have tickets for Friday.” Lady Matlock smiled. “Please, join us for dinner afterwards.”
Tea came to a close soon thereafter, and the ladies departed. Once they were in the carriage, Aunt Mavery turned to Elizabeth.
“Whilst I do not wholly approve of your actions, my dear, you could not have picked a better person to be candid with. Lady Matlock is well aware of her nephew’s surliness. I simply wish to caution you. It is very likely you will encounter him in town.”
“I already have,” Elizabeth admitted. “In the park two days ago. But I gave nothing away.”
“And did he behave in the manner you alluded to?”
“If you mean to ask if he acted like he did in Hertfordshire, then I must answer no. I see and hear so many different accounts of him so as to puzzle me exceedingly. Colonel Fitzwilliam is obviously fond of him, as is his aunt. Miss Bingley sang his praises, but I cannot trust her judgement. He insulted me and Mary—yes, I know I ought to have written to you about it—yet he spoke very amiably to me when we walked in the park, even expressing a desire to see me there again. Tell me, Aunt, what am I to think?” Elizabeth sighed and massaged her temples with her fingertips. She spoke quickly, telling her aunt about the infamous insult and her subsequent dislike of the gentleman.
“I think, my dear, that you had best reserve further judgement until you have more information.”
She shook her head. “I have always been good at sketching a person’s character quickly and accurately, yet lately it seems as though all I can do is make a mess of it. How am I to trust myself to choose wisely when it comes to marriage if I cannot see past a person’s outward expressions to know the truth?”
“I have always been very shy, Lizzy,” Mary piped up. “Some might call me proud, or too good to speak to others. They may presume as such upon first meeting me. It takes many meetings and discourse for me to become comfortable enough to speak openly. If a person were to judge me on a slight acquaintance, they would never see me as I truly am.”
“Our acquaintance with Mr. Darcy is hardly slight. We were in company many times.”
“Intimate company? I know you stayed at Netherfield for several days when Jane… Did you not learn more of him then?”
“No, I do not believe I did. But maybe I simply did not wish to see it.” Elizabeth sighed. “Do you see what I mean? How am I to trust my own judgement?”
“His insult hurt, Elizabeth.” Mary reached out and patted her hand. “I believe you felt angrier that he had included me than anything.”
“I confess, he wounded my vanity, but the look of devastation on your face is what truly drew my ire.”
Mary smiled. “It was, in a way, confirmation of Mrs. Bennet’s harsh words through the years. Though we have been in town but a short while, my confidence has grown.”
“He must be blind to believe either of you two is merely tolerable,” Aunt Maria grumbled. "Fastidious man! I have never met him, and I hope I can keep a civil tongue when I do."
The carriage arrived at Elm House, and they disembarked. “I believe I shall take Jones and go for a walk,” Elizabeth murmured. “I need to think.” She did not even go inside. Jones helped the other ladies out of the carriage before accompanying Elizabeth to the park.
“It is a good thing I already wore my walking boots, is it not, Jones?” she teased him. He merely smiled and nodded before falling two paces behind her.
Elizabeth walked the paths, wondering at her boldness in decrying Mr. Darcy to his relations. Lady Matlock had not seemed pleased, but Colonel Fitzwilliam had only rolled his eyes and spoke in exasperation. Obviously, they held the gentleman in esteem.
A family certainly knows its members best, she thought. At least I once believed that. Now I do not know. Jane is so different. And Lydia has spoken kindly to me since I aided her with Mr. Collins.
“Miss Bennet!” A familiar voice called from a few paces away. “I never imagined I would see you today.”
“I did tell you I walk frequently, sir.” She smiled briefly before her good cheer faded again. He seems terribly happy to see me.
“Have you concluded all your business for the day?” she asked.
He looked confused, his brow furrowing, and she mentally cursed her slip.
“A gentleman has much business, does he not?” she said hastily, hoping to cover her faux pas.
His expression cleared. “Yes, that is true. Everything is completed to my satisfaction. I plan to call on my aunt later. She planned on me for tea, but I was otherwise engaged.”
He extended his arm, and she took it. “Tell me, Miss Bennet, what entertainment do you have planned for your time in town?”
“I believe we are to go to the theater on Friday,” she divulged. “I have been informed one of my favorite plays is being performed. I have begged my uncle to go to the museum as well, and I know he will indulge me soon. Oh, but we have received invitations to so many balls and parties! I am certain I shall be exhausted all the time.”
“It is difficult to become used to town hours when one spends most of their time in the country,” he said sympathetically. “I prefer country hours myself and keep to them even when in town.”
“My aunt feels the same and has in the past kept country hours. She plans to accept more invitations whilst Mary and I are with her, though, so that might change.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Why events must go until all hours of the morning is beyond my understanding.”
“Not entirely sensible, if I do say so. My father always insisted that nothing good came after midnight, and so I always attempt to be in my bed before then.” He turned and smiled at her again.
My, but he is handsome. “I visited Hatchard’s the other day,” she said, changing the subject. “I shall have to purchase a new trunk for all the books I plan to purchase.”
They spent an agreeable half an hour comparing their tastes in reading and debating the finer points of a book of philosophy they had both recently read. Before she knew it, they had circled the park and were now at the gate again.
“Until next time, Miss Bennet,” he said, bowing.
“Goodbye, sir,” she murmured. She watched him stride away toward Mount Street, and she wondered if his house was close to his aunt’s.
Feeling more confused than ever, she walked slowly back to Elm House. By the time she was inside and had gone up to her chamber, she came to the startling realization that she liked conversing with Mr. Darcy.