The Royal Summons
The Morning Chronicle lay spread across the breakfast table, its pages already smudged with marmalade and disbelief. Captain Bennet adjusted his spectacles and read with mock solemnity.
“No fresh scandal today,” he announced. “Only the usual misapprehensions. According to this, my daughter is now betrothed to Colonel Darcy and has received three offers from foreign princes.”
Jane, pouring tea, smiled faintly. “At least they no longer have her fainting in public.”
Elizabeth reached for the paper, though she already knew what she would find.
Another paragraph circled her fame like a vulture.
The mysterious Miss E— B—, whose bravery at Carlton House so captivated the court, is said to be a lady of distinguished connections and modest fortune.
” She set it down again, heat rising to her cheeks.
“I shall be relieved,” she said, “when London tires of its imagination.”
Mrs Gardiner smiled. “The city will never tire of romance, my dear. But its attention wanders quickly enough.”
A knock at the parlour door interrupted her. The maid entered, holding a sealed letter on a tray.
“For you, sir. Brought by a uniformed messenger.”
Captain Bennet accepted it, curiosity brightening his eyes as he turned the Duke of York’s seal toward the light. “Ah,” he said, breaking the wax. “Official ink. Always a bad sign.”
He read quickly, his brows rising. “Well, well. It seems we are not yet forgotten.” He read aloud: “By command of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent, you are requested to attend at Carlton House tomorrow at eleven o’clock.”
Jane’s hand stilled over the teapot. “Our company?”
“Yours, mine, and Elizabeth’s,” her father replied. “The letter names us all, though there is no mention of the Gardiners. His Highness sends his compliments to our hosts.”
Mrs Gardiner’s eyes shone with quiet pride. “It is distinction enough, Lizzy, that the Prince should wish to thank you—and dear Jane, of course. I only ask that you remember every word for me.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “If I am not overcome by terror, Aunt, I shall do my best.”
Jane reached for the letter. “Do you think it is about—?”
“Honours, most likely,” said Captain Bennet, folding the paper. “Or reprimands. One never knows which until the speech begins.”
Elizabeth managed a smile. “Then we had best behave as if we deserved the first and not the second.”
Mrs Gardiner laughed quietly. “A sound plan. We shall make ready as if for court itself.”
“Indeed,” said Captain Bennet. “Gloves, bonnets, ribbons, and general disorder until morning. And as if that were not excitement enough, we are to entertain our gallant friends this evening. Colonel Darcy and Captain Bingley dine with us at seven.”
“That is settled,” said Mrs Gardiner, rising. “I shall inform Cook at once.”
Jane smiled. “Then we must begin at once, or Mrs Gardiner will never forgive us for letting the roast spoil.”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs Gardiner with an affectionate shake of the head. “It will be a pleasure to receive them. After so much talk of battles and bravery, a quiet dinner will do us all good.”
Captain Bennet looked amused. “Then I shall be content with whatever the field provides. It is rare to dine in such distinguished company.”
A murmur of laughter followed. Outside, the streets glimmered with winter sunlight and the sound of passing carriages; within, the house filled with the pleasant hum of preparation, a day of errands and anticipation ahead.
Elizabeth gathered the crumpled pages of the newspaper. Her name, half-concealed by dashes, still gleamed in the gossip column.
Tomorrow she would stand before the Prince Regent and the court; but tonight, Colonel Darcy would dine at Gracechurch Street.
By nightfall the drawing room was all warm light and quiet order. The table had been laid, the fire burned low, and even Captain Bennet appeared content as he reviewed the decanter with an approving eye.
Elizabeth had not been so composed. Every sound from the street sent her gaze to the window, though she told herself it was courtesy alone that made her attentive to the hour.
The knock came at last.
Mrs Gardiner went herself to the hall and returned a moment later with the visitors. Captain Bingley entered first, all cheer and easy manners, followed by Colonel Darcy, whose calm bearing seemed to steady the room at once.
Mrs Gardiner greeted them with warmth. “You are most welcome, gentlemen. Pray come to the fire. The evening has turned chilly.”
Colonel Darcy bowed. “Your kindness does us honour, ma’am. We are grateful for your invitation.”
Captain Bingley smiled at Jane. “Indeed, Mrs Gardiner. I cannot think of a happier way to spend an evening before London decides how to reward its heroes.”
Captain Bennet raised an eyebrow. “Then you believe there will be rewards?”
Captain Bingley laughed. “There are already reports enough to fill a dispatch box. The Duke will wish to make an example of the affair at Carlton House, though I expect the credit will fall where it chooses.”
Colonel Darcy’s tone was even. “Recognition seldom follows justice, but it would be ungracious to refuse either.”
Captain Bennet gave a low hum of amusement. “A philosopher in uniform. You will do well at Court, Colonel.”
Colonel Darcy inclined his head slightly. “I hope rather to be done with ceremony. Yet there may be some official notice; the newspapers have left them little choice.”
Mrs Gardiner smiled. “Then we must drink to that. It is pleasant to imagine a story that ends with gratitude rather than scandal.”
When the servants withdrew, Captain Bennet raised his glass. “To absent friends, and to victory—such as it is.”
He added, drier still, “A truce, perhaps. The French have not gone far enough for my liking.”
Captain Bingley nodded. “They have withdrawn across the water, sir, but they will not stay there for long. London calls it peace; the army calls it breathing space.”
Colonel Darcy’s voice was quieter. “They will lick their wounds and count their losses, but ambition heals quickly. England must not mistake silence for safety.”
Captain Bennet regarded him thoughtfully. “Then you expect further conflict?”
“I expect it will find us, whether we seek it or not,” Colonel Darcy said. “But for the moment, we have earned a little rest.”
Captain Bingley’s spirits lifted again. “And we mean to spend it well. Colonel Darcy and I are to ride down next Tuesday to see Netherfield Park for ourselves. If the place proves as pleasant as reported, we may take it for the remainder of the season.”
Jane’s smile was bright and composed. “You will find the neighbourhood most agreeable, I am sure. It will do you both good to be among quiet fields again.”
Colonel Darcy inclined his head. “A change of air may indeed be useful after London.”
Mrs Gardiner smiled. “Then we must hope you are satisfied with it, for I believe Hertfordshire could use two such steady neighbours.”
The talk turned to lighter subjects, and for a while laughter and good humour filled the room.
Captain Bennet’s dry wit found ready counterweight in Captain Bingley’s easy spirits; Mrs Gardiner’s good sense kept the evening smooth.
Yet Elizabeth heard little of it. Colonel Darcy sat opposite her, composed and courteous, speaking only when addressed.
Once or twice his gaze met hers across the table, and each time the distance between them felt both polite and perilous.
When the dishes were cleared and tea brought in, Mrs Gardiner directed the ladies to the drawing room, and the gentlemen soon followed.
Captain Bennet engaged Captain Bingley in quiet discussion near the hearth, leaving Colonel Darcy momentarily apart.
Elizabeth, at the tea tray, looked up and found herself alone in his notice.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said at last, his voice low, “you are looking stronger than when we last met. I hope you have truly recovered.”
“I have rested more than I deserve,” she replied, smiling faintly. “My aunt and sister have seen to that.”
“I am glad,” he said. “You were much exhausted when we brought you from Carlton House. I feared the shock might linger.”
“It does,” she admitted quietly, “though not in the way I expected. It is strange to return to ordinary hours after so much noise and fire.”
Colonel Darcy inclined his head. “The quiet can be harder to bear than the danger.”
She looked up at him. “Especially when the quiet is filled with London’s gossip.”
He looked grave. “I regret deeply that your name was drawn into it. You have been spoken of with admiration, but even praise can wound when it is not sought.”
“I know,” she said softly. “Yet the fault is not yours. The papers must have their stories.”
“I would have silenced them if I could,” he said still lower. “But rumour travels faster than truth.”
Elizabeth hesitated, then added gently, “We return to Hertfordshire at the end of the week. I shall be glad to leave such stories behind.”
Colonel Darcy’s gaze lifted to hers. “Then London will lose its only honest account of the matter.”
She smiled. “I think the world will manage very well without it. But perhaps, when you visit Netherfield, you may hear how peaceable Meryton truly is.”
A faint warmth touched his expression. “Then I shall hope for the earliest report.”
For a moment neither spoke again. The murmur of voices filled the room once more, but to Elizabeth it seemed distant and unimportant. She could feel his presence beside her, steady and watchful, a promise yet unspoken.
Tomorrow would bring the Prince Regent and the end of every pretence. But tonight had already changed more than she wished to admit.
* * *