Chapter 5 Aristocratic Reception #3
Elizabeth, as always in Darcy’s eyes, was stunningly gorgeous.
She too wore a new ensemble, each item from the glittering jeweled pins holding her dense curls in place down to the white kid slippers on her feet, had been recently purchased.
Per her taste, the gown and accouterments were modest and simplistic, yet fashionable.
She was a vision of pure loveliness, and he could not remove his eyes from her.
The Bennet pair sat on the plush-cushioned, velvet-covered bench across from Darcy.
It would not have been proper for Elizabeth to sit beside him, and for the present, he was perfectly content with the arrangement.
She was delightfully gawking at the scenery passing outside the carriage window, and his vantage point allowed him to observe her movements unencumbered.
It was fantastic! She was childlike in her curiosity and enthusiasm, her face radiant and voice animated.
“The gaslight is beautiful! See how the window glass sparkles? Just think, Papa, someday every house will be lit as brilliantly. It shall be as bright as daylight at midnight.”
“Pitfalls come with progress, but in this area, I can rejoice. If only to save my eyesight for improved reading, I will embrace a modern invention with potential disaster.”
If Elizabeth heard her father’s comment, it was not apparent.
She had already continued her lively commentary about the people, architecture, foliage, and whatever else caught her fancy.
For not the first time, Darcy wondered at her incredible ability to be at ease in any situation.
The momentary stupefaction evoked by the coach had long since faded, replaced by keen interest and innocent appreciation for everything.
If she felt out of her element, there was no hint of it.
She noted the exclusive businesses along south Piccadilly and Pall Mall for their unique merchandise and elegant shoppers.
The increasingly palatial townhouses did not faze her though she did marvel at their beauty.
“Will we pass by the palace, Mr. Darcy?”
Pulled out of his reverie with a start, Darcy shook his head.
“I am afraid not. I initially instructed the driver to take the circuitous route past Saint James’s Palace.
Alas, as we discovered on our way to fetch you, His Royal Highness is in residence and hosting a fete of some sort.
Hence the reason I was a bit late. By this time, it would add another hour onto our journey to go that way. ”
“A shame, but there is plenty of time for sightseeing later. The palace isn’t going anywhere—at least not that I’ve heard.”
Darcy laughed. “Not in the near future. Perhaps the day after tomorrow we can spend the afternoon touring the city if you wish.”
“I may need to do more shopping.” At this, she flashed an impish smirk toward her father.
Mr. Bennet grimaced. “Whatever you wish, Lizzy. This trip is for you and Jane. I can be long-suffering and generous, especially knowing the two of you buying everything you lay eyes on will soon no longer be my problem. I wish you luck, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy merely smiled and inclined his head.
Elizabeth had returned her avid gaze to the passing views, although she did add, “Look on the bright side, Papa. If we go shopping, you have another free day to explore Mr. Darcy’s library.
There must be one or two shelves you’ve yet to scour. So you see, everyone wins!”
“Except for me,” Darcy contradicted. “Whilst you shop, I shall be adrift without the pleasure of your company, Miss Elizabeth.”
Turning to face him, her lips curved into the sweet, secret smile he now knew was only for him.
“I cannot have you being left adrift weighing on my conscience, Mr. Darcy. It would be unbearable! Papa”—she patted Mr. Bennet’s knee—“you can still bury yourself in books while we, with Jane and Mr. Bingley, tramp about Town. This will save your pocketbook and your feet. A day of sightseeing does sound enjoyable. Besides, the night isn’t the best time for viewing a palace, nor is that the objective for this evening. ”
“True on all points. Tonight is for my family to acquaint themselves with the superlative woman who has honored me with her acceptance of my proposal, and her esteemed father.”
Brows lifted and eyes wide, Elizabeth exclaimed with dramatic dismay, “Is that the purpose? I thought it was for me to learn more about the mysterious gentleman who honored me with a proposal. Why I have my list of personal questions that only kinfolk can answer to tucked into my reticule. Are you saying, Mr. Darcy, that I shan’t have an opportunity to interview each person in private? ”
“Private interviews are forbidden, Miss Elizabeth, for the sake of my sanity. However, if it is any consolation, between Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Matlock and, to some degree, Mr. Fitzwilliam, I fear the granting of a wealth of information designed specifically to embarrass me.”
“Then I am cheered considerably, sir. Thank you!”
Darcy laughed, letting the topic go in favor of indicating which houses belonged to whom, as they had now reached Saint James’s Square.
“Illustrious names familiar from newspaper gossip pages,” she murmured at one point. “Do you know all of them…personally?”
Darkness had fallen, and Elizabeth was again turned toward the window, preventing Darcy from scrutinizing her expression.
What he could see through the shadows was not a face exhibiting extreme anxiety.
Instead, it was the slight stumble of her words and trace of tension in her voice which gave him pause.
Taken alone, he likely would have shrugged it off as his imagination.
Then he saw Mr. Bennet turn his head around, a flash of outside light briefly illuminating the furrows between his brows and pursed lips as he peered at his daughter.
Was Elizabeth nervous after all? Had she heard snippets of the drifting rumors? Darcy’s stomach clenched and heart thudded.
In the few hours they had been together since the report from Colonel Fitzwilliam yesterday, Darcy had monitored her words and actions carefully, seeking nuances that might indicate she was aware, even if minimally.
Thus far, he had detected nothing amiss on that front.
There had also been no hint that she felt any anxiety about tonight.
It was perfectly normal to be apprehensive when meeting unknown people, particularly his family.
After the atrocious behavior of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, meeting two more titled nobles couldn’t possibly be a delightful prospect.
Trying to ease whatever trepidation she may be experiencing, Darcy aimed for soothing teases as he answered her question. “I have met most of the residents hereabouts at one time or another. Thereafter, I promptly did my best to forget them. Few are as interesting as you, my dear.”
“Heavens! They must be astoundingly unremarkable then. Are you sure this is accurate, Mr. Darcy?” she asked playfully. “How disappointing if it is. The papers must exaggerate terribly to write such fascinating stories and scandals about all these boring people.”
Pleased to see her humor intact and her brief flirt with nervousness gone, Darcy continued the banter by describing one of his uncle’s craziest neighbors.
The short anecdote involved a greatly disliked yapping dog and a large alley cat, the latter decisively winning the animal argument.
On the high note of gaiety, the carriage gently lurched to a halt, signaling their arrival at the London townhouse of the Earl and Countess of Matlock.
The foyer of the Matlock townhouse was larger than the Darcy House foyer by some four to five square feet, and was equally as impressive in fine furnishings.
Throughout the house, Lady Matlock’s sense of style was, like the late Lady Anne Darcy, elegant in a reserved, almost understated way.
The decor was both grand and soothing, the combination brilliantly broadcasting the power and wealth of the Earl of Matlock while expressing warmth and welcome.
Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet scanned the surroundings with interest, but neither appeared overwhelmed.
If his beloved felt any return of nervousness, she hid it well.
Pride swelling his heart, he offered his arm, escorting Elizabeth into the drawing room where the butler, Mr. Willis, led them.
Everyone was present and stared at the trio as they entered.
Lady Matlock sat on the gilded settee facing the door, a smile already lighting her delicate face.
The three men—Lord Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Jonathan Fitzwilliam—stood in an arc between the settee and the larger sofa upon which perched Priscilla Fitzwilliam.
Ever a house where formality reigned, the butler announced each of them in proper order and precision.
Once completed, he bowed and left the room, at which point the stasis broke.
Darcy performed the less formal introductions, beginning with Lord Matlock.
His lordship greeted Mr. Bennet first, naturally, and then bowed to Elizabeth.
As Darcy expected, Jonathan Fitzwilliam was coolly proper, his tone perfectly civil yet lacking the genial undertone and measure of interest shown by Lord Matlock.
For easily the hundredth time in Darcy’s memory, Colonel Fitzwilliam proved his talent for easing tense situations.
He bowed with exaggerated flair and welcomed both Bennets graciously but with his unique puckish charm.
Then, when Mr. Bennet diverted his gaze, the colonel winked at Elizabeth, as if they shared secrets.
Darcy instinctively experienced a flash of jealousy and was unable to prevent a fleeting frown. Richard raised one brow and smirked.