Chapter 16
When the meeting ended, the gentlemen joined the ladies in the parlor.
Several footmen brought in fruit, cheese, and cakes along with tea, coffee, and, of course, chocolate, a luxury drink at Longbourn, but an everyday staple at Northampton House.
The ladies converged on the large table displaying the scrumptious feast.
While the footmen were pouring beverages, the gentlemen arrived.
Mr. Darcy was the last to come through the doors.
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat when she saw a man completely different from the one in her memory—the one with his jaw drawn tight.
She had been exceptionally diverted when she imagined Mr. Darcy chewing his dinner with locked jaws and lips pressed into a thin line.
Oh, he was not born with a scowl! Of course, he leaves it at home when he visits the house of a duke!
Mr. Darcy, of the amiable demeanor, was more handsome than any gentleman had a right to be. He came straight to her. When he was a few steps away, he bowed deeply and cordially greeted her.
“Lady Elizabeth, my compliments. What good fortune for me to see you again. I see Georgiana has made herself quite at home.” He turned to his sister and smiled affectionately at her.
Elizabeth curtsied and abruptly said, “Mr. Darcy… oh, congratulations are in order for your recent marriage to your cousin.”
My. Darcy seemed taken aback momentarily by her well wishes in lieu of a greeting.
He had been receiving congratulations everywhere he went.
However, coming from Elizabeth… eh, Lady Elizabeth, the felicitations sounded like a reproach—a cruel reminder of his cursed marriage of convenience.
Why did he think keeping Rosings in the family was worth binding himself to a woman he did not love?
What if the doctors were wrong about Anne not having long to live?
An uneasy feeling bordering on shame surged within him, both for marrying for wealth and for almost wishing his cousin would not live much longer. To the one who unknowingly caused these dishonorable feelings, he could think of nothing else to say other than ‘thank you.’
They stood awkwardly for a few moments. Then Mr. Darcy, not wanting to appear he had come over to importune Lady Elizabeth, said to his sister solicitously, “Georgiana, I hope you have been well entertained here. What a treat it is for you to be among five lively and friendly young ladies of your own age, all under one roof.”
Oh! He came over here for his sister!
Miss Darcy was far more composed than she had been a few minutes earlier, but she was still subdued. She answered steadily, “Yes, Brother. The ladies have been most kind and accepted me as their humble friend.”
Elizabeth’s playful spirit could not be suppressed for long.
She interjected, “Georgiana, not ‘humble,’ but cherished. Your brother is being kind, as he has known us since his visit to Hertfordshire. We could at times be boisterous, to put it charitably, and your brother has witnessed enough to know I speak the truth. We have been mindful of our decorum here because we are new to the level of society you were born into. You see, we do not wish to appear as simple country folk—at least for the first few days.”
Miss Darcy was taken aback by this sportive way of speech, so unlike the solicitous and gentle way Lady Elizabeth had spoken to her earlier, but her somber brother did not seem to mind.
She had no notion of what ‘her level’ of society was supposed to be.
From her own observations, society was all rules and strictures.
Her agreeing to elope with Mr. Wickham was mainly to escape a stifling future.
However, Lady Elizabeth had just proved that she did not need to be always so prim and proper.
But then she remembered the unfortunate fact that she was not titled, and worse, had a tainted past.
Mr. Darcy, however, was once again captivated by this teasing woman of spirited and provocative impertinence.
He tried to resume his stoic facade, but faced with his siren, he failed miserably.
Instead, he turned to Georgiana smilingly and said, “Dear sister, you have only just met Lady Elizabeth, but I have had the pleasure of her acquaintance for long enough to recognize that Lady Elizabeth occasionally professes opinions which, in fact…” Turning to Elizabeth, he smiled even more broadly, “are not your own.”
Elizabeth was, in turn, mesmerized by this almost playful version of the cold and aloof man she had known. She could not help laughing at this description of herself, which was uncannily accurate considering their rather superficial acquaintance.
Not one to accept defeat so readily, she arched her eyebrow, turned to Miss Darcy, and said, “Georgiana…” Mr. Darcy was surprised that Lady Elizabeth and his sister had already done away with titles.
He knew it must have been Elizabeth who encouraged the familiarity.
This realization made him inordinately pleased.
His short contemplation caused him to miss some of the conversation that followed, but he listened on.
“…very ungenerous of him to mention all he knows to my disadvantage—and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as to shock you to hear, my dear gentle lamb!”
There was now no denying his admiration of this vivacious, enchanting creature.
He had been deluding himself to believe that after Anne was gone, he would find someone like Miss Elizabeth Bennet to marry.
There could be no other. He had used his memory of Lady Caroline Lamb to quell the impulse to rush back to Hertfordshire and declare himself to her.
Powerless to suppress the broad smile that only his closest friends had ever seen and only during his childhood, he retorted, “I am not afraid of you.”
This seemingly innocent comeback from a gentleman who never smiled, let alone had such an openly beaming countenance, dazzled her. Her papa was right. He was a sight to behold when he put away his scowl. However, Elizabeth was never one to back down in the face of any sign of intimidation.
She narrowed her eyes and acted sly and scheming by rubbing her hands together. “Is that a dare? Are you certain you wanted to say that? My courage always rises in the face of a challenge.”
Darcy put his hand over his heart and said with an exaggerated show of contrition, “Indeed, I do not dare.”
Miss Darcy looked from her new friend to her brother as if she were watching the back-and-forth volleys at a game of lawn tennis.
She had never seen her brother so animated and light-hearted with a young lady.
She wanted to be strong, witty, and altogether fascinating, just like Lady Elizabeth, who had quickly won Georgiana’s undying adoration.
Such were her brother’s thoughts as well.
There were no doubts left in his mind that his willingness to sacrifice his marital happiness temporarily for the family was all for her: this priceless treasure.
It had always been Elizabeth Bennet. In hindsight, Lady Caroline Lamb had never reached so deep into his soul.
His childhood obsession had never displayed such guileless playfulness; there was always a piercing barb meant to hurt.
The fact that his sacrifice had turned out to be unnecessary was just a cruel twist of fate.
While the Darcy siblings and Lady Elizabeth were experiencing these revelations, Lord Fitzwilliam came over with the Duke to seek an introduction to the remaining ducal daughter.
Elizabeth curtsied. “My Lord. It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“The pleasure and honor are all mine, Lady Elizabeth,” said the Earl with an affable demeanor that was disarming.
“The Fitzwilliam family, and I dare say, society here in town, look forward to welcoming and knowing better five lovely ladies into their midst. Darcy, of course, has already told me much about you.”
Elizabeth looked quizzically at Mr. Darcy, who, for some unknown reason, appeared to be blushing; curiously, his austere mask made a reappearance.
Did he not want it known that he talked about her with his family?
That begged the question. What did he say about her, and why?
From what Georgiana, and now the Earl, revealed, what Mr. Darcy had said was complimentary.
Then why should he be embarrassed by it?
Meanwhile, the Countess and Her Grace also joined Elizabeth’s group.
“Lady Elizabeth, I am eager to deepen our acquaintance. From what Georgiana has told me, you are well worth knowing,” said the Countess pleasantly to Elizabeth while glancing at Georgiana with an indulgent smile.
Their entire family knows about me and talks about me behind my back. Why?
Meanwhile, Her Grace had at last come alive again.
At first, she had been intimidated by Lady Fitzwilliam, who had frequently appeared in the society pages the former Mrs. Bennet had devoured.
To her surprise, the Countess was more than solicitous.
She was eager to please and was not what the new duchess had imagined a noble lady and wife to one of the most prominent statesmen in the realm would be.
Lady Lucas was the only titled lady with whom she was closely acquainted, and Lady Lucas was not of the nobility—she was just wife to a knight.
“Your Grace, this fruit tart garnished with crème de la Chantilly is simply divine. You must convey my compliments to your chef.” The gracious countess was effusive in her praise of the delectable tart.
The Duchess agreed wholeheartedly, without admitting that she had known the tart’s topping as whipped cream.
She had been overwrought with indecision over whether she could address the chef about the menu—and the countess essentially gave her permission to do so!
Equally helpful, the noble lady had supplied some French words for her to use so her French chef would not think her a complete simpleton.
She breathed a sigh of relief that her new life would not require her to give up her love of designing menus.
After another ten minutes, the visitors took their leave.
The Darcy siblings were to return in the next few days.
Mr. Darcy would report daily to the Duke on his progress in rallying one of his godfathers, the Lord Chief Justice, to the Duke’s cause.
The Lord Chief Justice would be fair and just, of course, but he would also look out for any unseemly shenanigans by the plaintiffs.
Likewise, Lord Fitzwilliam would find allies in the House of Lords for the same purpose.
Miss Darcy had been invited back to Northampton House by the young ladies of the Duke’s family.
Four of the five ducal sisters had been charmed by the shy girl and could hear clearly her voiceless cry for help.
Every Bennet-Fitzstuart sister wanted to help the young girl become a confident, poised lady—except for Lady Lydia, who, though closest in age to Georgiana, could not understand the fuss over a mousy, untitled nonentity.