Chapter 53 The Ball at Matlock House
Elizabeth turned from the elderly gentleman to whom she had just been presented and allowed her gaze to travel down the line. The earl and countess stood at its head, followed by the viscount and his lady, then Richard and his wife. Fitzwilliam stood next, and she herself brought up the end.
Her eyes lingered, despite herself, upon her husband’s tall, masculine form.
He was striking in black evening dress, every line of him composed and assured.
She, too, felt well pleased with her appearance.
Her gown of jonquil silk, overlaid with the finest net, shimmered softly at her bare shoulders, lending an air of lightness that set off the graceful line of her neck and collar bones.
The bodice, artfully cut, and the fall of the skirt, which draped her figure alluringly before floating to the floor, combined to a pleasing effect.
At her throat lay a diamond necklace he had drawn from the family vault. She felt again the warmth of his touch as he had fastened it, the brush of his lips at her shoulder.
“This was my mother’s. She wore it on her wedding day.”
And then, more softly still, “Elizabeth, you are very beautiful.”
Her thoughts returned to the present. She must already have been introduced to three hundred people.
She knew she would never remember them all, yet Fitzwilliam had insisted it was imperative she be presented to his circle.
At last, they were released, and he led her out for the first dance. Throughout it, his eyes sought hers, and whenever they met, he smiled.
At the close, he bent near. “My dear, every waltz is mine, as is the supper set.”
“Mr. Darcy, I am quite honored, sir. For a gentleman who professes to dislike the ballroom, your attentions are very marked.”
He chuckled, amused. “You are a tease, Elizabeth. I shall not forget it.”
At that moment, a young gentleman approached and requested her hand. She accepted and was soon led back into the set.
Elizabeth danced nearly every dance until the first waltz. When at last it came, her husband returned to claim her.
“My dear, you have been much sought after. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am, Fitzwilliam. I have never attended so grand an affair. I begin to understand you better, sir, now that I see the elevated world in which you have long moved.”
He chuckled. “In truth, I spent little time in Town. I came out for only one season. My father brought me, and when he died, I did not return. I have always preferred my quiet life at Pemberley.”
“Surely you attended such assemblies in search of a wife?”
“No, Elizabeth. I had not seriously thought of marriage until this year, for I am soon to be nine and twenty. After my regrettable conduct at the Netherfield ball, I was compelled to acknowledge my desire to marry you. That desire became a necessity when I learned you were soon to be betrothed to Allen.” He glanced about the room. “Where is Allen? He was invited.”
“Perhaps he has not yet arrived.”
The music began, and he led her into the waltz. It was exquisite to be held within the circle of his arms, without fear of censure, though he drew her nearer than was quite proper. When the dance ended, he did not release her at once.
In a whisper, he said, “I could dance all night with you, darling.”
“Then pray do. Would it be improper for a wife to dance three sets with her husband?”
A rakish smile touched his lips. “Not in the least. I am your husband, and the host besides. I shall claim another. Consult your card and tell me which is mine, and I shall see that it is a waltz.”
She laughed softly. “You are very romantic, sir.”
He wrote his name into an empty space and then escorted her to the refreshment table, where he procured a glass of punch.
Elizabeth had scarcely taken a sip when a tall, striking woman, near his own age, approached.
With an ease that signified long familiarity, she took the glass from his hand and set it aside, then slipped her arm through his.
“Come,” she said lightly, “I must present you to my husband. You cannot have met him, for he has spent these last twenty years in India.”
Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth, his brows lifting in silent apology, before allowing himself to be led away.
Elizabeth remained where she was, her glass in hand.
“Why, Mrs. Darcy, you are more beautiful than when last we met. Can it be you improve with time?”
She looked up to find Mr. Allen before her and could not help but laugh.
“You are flirting with me, sir.”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy, I am,” he replied with easy warmth. “I find, when I am in your company, I cannot help myself.”
“Have you been long in Town, sir?”
“No. I arrived only today, expressly to attend this ball and to see you.”
“You are quite the rogue this evening, sir.”
He laughed. “And I have brought a blush to your cheeks, which renders you still more beautiful. Pray tell me you have an open dance, ma’am.”
She opened her card, and they bent over it together. “The allemande is unclaimed, sir.”
“With your leave.” He took her pencil with easy confidence and wrote his name upon the vacant line. She could not help but laugh with him.
Her next partner soon approached to claim her hand. She dropped a curtsy to Mr. Allen. “I look forward to our dance, sir.” And she was gone.
Darcy stepped forward at once. “You are exceedingly practiced at paying court to my wife, Allen.”
Allen turned and frowned. “I observed that you were otherwise engaged with that courtesan, Mrs. Adams. You can scarcely object to a little innocent gallantry, when you yourself are...”
Darcy’s expression darkened. “I shall overlook the remark, for the sake of your connection to my wife, and because I understand you may feel some concern for her. But be assured, I have no acquaintance with that woman, nor any notion why she singled me out this evening.” He paused, then added with quiet emphasis, “I need look no further than my wife.”
He stopped abruptly, color rising. “Pray forget I said that. It was quite improper.”
Allen inclined his head. “Say no more, Darcy. If that wanton merely cast her line, I shall not hold it against you.” He glanced toward the lady and her husband.
“Now that I see the gentleman she is married to, I suspect you were no more than bait to provoke his notice. Yet he appears a cold sort. I doubt even you could rouse his jealousy.”
Darcy turned to observe Mrs. Adams and her husband. “If she has married him for his fortune, she ought to be contented with his money, and leave the rest of us in peace.”
“Darcy, should your wife learn who this woman is, you will be in difficulty for allowing her to lead you away upon her arm. And you do realize that everyone will suppose she is your mistress.”
Darcy groaned. “Elizabeth knows I do not approve of such a mode of life, and those who know me well understand it also. Nevertheless, I ought not to have permitted myself to be led away from my bride by a courtesan. This will very likely occasion our first quarrel.”
Then, with a sudden laugh, he added, “She has noticed you now, Allen. I shall make my escape and leave you to disentangle yourself.”
“Wait, I shall come with you.”
Elizabeth danced with Mr. Allen and then with each of Darcy’s cousins. At supper, she sat surrounded by her new relations and began, for the first time, to feel herself truly received into her husband’s circle.
Later, she withdrew to the retiring room to refresh herself. Concealed behind a screen, she could not avoid overhearing two ladies who entered, wholly absorbed in their conversation.
“That shameless courtesan made directly for Mr. Darcy, and his hapless wife had not the slightest notion who she was, nor why she hovered so determinedly about her very desirable husband.”
Elizabeth then heard a soft laugh. “Dianna, Samantha Adams is very likely one of his former mistresses. Mother says she entertains only the wealthiest gentlemen.”
Elizabeth heard the second woman reply angrily.
“My mother cannot bear the sight of her. Women like Samantha Adams ought not to be admitted into good society. How is it that an unmarried girl may be ruined merely by being found alone in a room with a gentleman, while widows and married women of questionable character conduct themselves as they please, without consequence?”
“Not every woman may behave so,” the other replied.
“She is the daughter of an earl, well-connected, possessed of a considerable fortune, and has been a widow these many years. Such advantages incline society to look the other way, provided her affairs are conducted with discretion. But we shall see if her new husband will allow her to carry on as she has been used to doing.”
“Amelia, if ever I marry, I shall see that such a woman keeps far from my husband.”
“And how do you propose to accomplish that when so many women have been unable to do so?”
“I would call upon her and make myself perfectly understood.”
“Threaten her?” Amelia asked, amused. “With what?”
“I would tell her that, unless she wishes her name printed in the society papers as a courtesan, she would do well to keep her distance.”
Amelia laughed. “Then I shall do the same when my turn comes.”
Elizabeth felt sick. She pressed her hand to her stomach and struggled for composure, willing herself not to lose the contents of her stomach.
At last, the ladies departed. Elizabeth remained still for a moment, then stepped out from her concealment. How she was to return to the ballroom, she could not immediately determine.
Then she remembered.
He had told her he had never kept a mistress. He had spoken plainly, even with anger, insisting he was not that sort of man. She could not doubt his sincerity. She closed her eyes in relief. He was a good man. He had said that he and his forefathers had been patrons of the Church.
She would put that woman in her place, this very night.
Elizabeth made her way to Lady Helen’s side and curtsied to Lady Helen and Lady Abigail, who stood with her.
“Lady Helen, I pray you will excuse me. I must ask a favor, and you may think me impertinent.”
Lady Helen looked at her closely. “You are distressed. Elizabeth, what could have distressed you at your own ball?”
“Mrs. Adams approached Fitzwilliam and claimed him as though he were her own, taking hold of his arm and leading him away from me. He was speaking to me when she came up and removed him, without acknowledging my presence or apologizing for the intrusion. It was a marked and public disrespect. I have since learned that she is a courtesan and a wanton, and she may be in search of another client.”
Lady Helen took Elizabeth’s hand. “Calm yourself. How may I assist you?”
“My lady, I ask that you introduce me to her. I wish to put her in her place.”
Lady Abigail spoke. “Mother, I wish to come as well. I will not have any wanton attempting to ensnare my husband.”
Lady Helen looked between them. “And what do you intend to threaten her with, Elizabeth?”
“I intend to tell her that, since she presumed to approach my husband in public before his new bride, I shall retaliate by publishing her name in the society papers as a wanton who is no longer to be received in good society.”
The three ladies fell silent.
“That would serve,” Lady Helen said. “She remains tolerated only because she has been discreet, though many women despise her for making it known she holds their husbands in her power. I shall do it. Come, girls. My standing is above hers. She shall not lay hands upon either of my sons or upon my nephew.”
The three ladies made their way through the crowd to Mrs. Adams. Lady Helen addressed the guests within the woman’s circle. “You will excuse me, gentlemen, Patricia. I have business with Mrs. Adams.”
She then placed her arm within Mrs. Adams’s and said, “You will come with me.” As the four ladies made their way out of the ballroom, many of the guests paused to observe and wonder at the cause of Lady Helen’s displeasure.
“Elizabeth, bring that candlestick.”
They entered a closed parlor, lit only by the single candle.
Lady Helen spoke, her voice resolute. “Samantha, your dealings with married men are well known, and you are a woman much disliked. I am sad to admit that many of my friends know your reputation firsthand. This evening, you showed poor judgment in approaching my nephew before his bride. You offered her every possible insult. You were not discreet, and those nearby witnessed the offense. By morning, all will know of it.”
Mrs. Adams appeared to have lost her arrogance.
“Those same observers have seen us escort you from the ball. You will not return. My footman will see you to the door, where you may wait for your husband, or a hackney may be called.”
Elizabeth saw that the woman had the grace to blush.
“Tomorrow I shall publish a notice in the society papers stating that it has been brought to my attention that a Mrs. S.A. has conducted herself as a courtesan among the wealthy husbands of the ton, and that such conduct will no longer be tolerated.” Elizabeth was comforted when Lady Abigail took her hand.
“Samantha, you have gone too far. From this day forward, you will not be invited to any society event. All present this evening will know that I have removed you from my house for the insult you paid to my niece. Before the week is out, I expect you will withdraw to the country, for no one will receive you now.”
Allen approached Darcy. “I believe that courtesan has crossed the wrong woman.”
Darcy cast him a questioning look, then followed his gaze. He saw his aunt leading Elizabeth and Lady Abigail toward Mrs. Adams, who stood surrounded by a group of gentlemen. Lady Patricia had joined them and appeared intent upon observing all that might pass.
Allen gave a quiet laugh. “It seems Mrs. Adams is about to meet her reckoning. I would wager a pound she does not return to the ball.”
“I shall not wager,” Darcy replied. “I know my aunt, and I know Elizabeth. Neither will endure the conduct of a woman such as Mrs. Adams.”
Allen turned toward him. “Mrs. Darcy has claimed you. I doubt any woman will attempt to secure your attentions while she lives.”
Darcy laughed, delighted. “I believe you are correct, Allen.”