Chapter 3
It was the most important Drawing-Room of the year, and only young ladies of the nobility could participate. Lady Catherine and Lady Eleanor, as Lady Matlock was called within her family, were accepted as presenters for Miss Anne de Bourgh and Miss Georgiana Darcy.
Anne de Bourgh had rather passed that ideal moment between sixteen and twenty when young ladies of the nobility were presented at court.
Still, in her case, an exception was made, as she was not known to the ton, having lived almost entirely secluded in Kent, at Rosings, the estate she had inherited from her father.
However, it was managed by her mother, who made no attempt to involve her.
Fortunately for Anne, Lord Matlock decided otherwise.
And he knew how to impose his decision upon his sister, who agreed reluctantly, hoping that after the presentation they would return home and that their life would continue as it had in the years since her husband’s death—she the mistress of Rosings, while her daughter remained a pale figure with no voice of her own.
Georgiana’s situation was the opposite. She was almost too young, but Darcy agreed at his uncle’s insistence, who dreamed of seeing his two nieces married into illustrious families that would further add to their family’s prestige in the ton.
Since Georgiana’s arrival, she had spent every day at the town house of either Lady Catherine or Lady Eleanor in preparation for her presentation.
The first concern was the dress.
Although current fashion favoured lightweight gowns—reminiscent of classical Greece and Rome—Queen Charlotte adhered to elaborate confections of richly trimmed silks and satins supported by the now obsolete hoop.
It was required on such an occasion, and most families had to pay considerable sums for a gown their daughter would never wear again.
Georgiana wished to wear her mother’s gown from Lady Anne’s presentation at court.
Lady Anne’s dress had a small hoop, more like a bell than the elaborate fashion inspired by the French court.
It was rather difficult to make a perfect curtsey, and the young ladies had to practise many times to achieve the deep movement required in the presence of Queen Charlotte.
The two weeks before the event were spent almost entirely with her relatives.
Lord Matlock said that he could not remember a time when the family had been closer.
He was proud of his two nieces and attended the final rehearsal with the whole family.
They were seated in Lady Catherine’s ballroom, as they would have been at a private performance.
Near him, his son, Viscount Wharton, stood rather stiffly; it was not an occasion he enjoyed.
He believed that the ladies might have resolved their difficulties without involving all the men from Matlock House.
Still, in the end, it had been his father’s decision.
Darcy and the colonel, at the back of the room, sipped glasses of brandy, appearing relaxed, though in truth they felt strong emotion.
Georgiana came first, wearing Lady Anne’s dress of richly embroidered silk.
The only addition was the delicate Venetian lace that covered her shoulders.
She wore her mother’s jewellery: a necklace and tiara of sapphires and pearls.
Upon a pedestal sat the Viscountess of Wharton, who played the part of the Queen.
“Your sister-in-law looks majestic—like a true queen,” Darcy said, with quiet admiration.
“She is a fine lady—too fine for my philandering brother,” the colonel whispered, and both smiled.
Lady Eleanor observed their identical smiles from a distance, regarding them with benevolent eyes.
“Fortunately, Lady Wharton is not the Queen. Otherwise, poor Anne would have stumbled and—” Darcy stopped as Anne de Bourgh entered the room. Dressed in an elegant white gown, she appeared timid, yet so lovely that both cousins bowed deeply towards Lady Eleanor and applauded her success.
“Mama is a sorceress. She has taken a little elf and transformed her into a presentable young lady,” the colonel whispered.
His mother hid her smile behind a fan, but her satisfaction was evident. Only Lady Catherine had any criticism, but nobody listened. Both cousins were elegant and delicate ladies, and the family could present them at court with pride.
They had to repeat the curtsey many times until Lady Wharton decided it was as perfect as the one she had performed three years earlier. In the end, Lady Wharton and the two debutantes withdrew together, as she had some advice for them.
On the day of the Drawing-Room, the names called out needed to correspond to the debutantes before them as they stepped forward to curtsey.
“You should remain calm and follow Her Majesty’s attendant, as the ladies are not always in the correct order in the row waiting to enter the Drawing-Room.
“Each lady has a presentation card on which her name is written. She must leave the line of the debutantes when she hears her name called. Then she enters the Drawing-Room and curtseys before the Queen. But, ladies…once you have curtseyed, do not remain before the throne. You must leave the room while still facing Her Majesty. Never…and I mean never…turn your back upon the Queen.”
Lady Wharton was confident that her two pupils would make a splendid appearance and that the presentation would be a success.
∞∞∞
Indeed, Anne and Georgiana completed their important endeavour before the Queen triumphantly.
They were celebrated and congratulated that evening at an elegant supper given by Darcy in their honour.
Less than a month later, the Earl of Matlock presented his nieces to all of London.
The coming-out ball took place at Matlock House.
Tradition required that each debutante arrive on her father’s arm, but as both fathers had passed away, Georgiana entered on Darcy’s arm while the colonel led Anne.
The attendees applauded as the two pairs entered the lavish ballroom, illuminated by hundreds of candles.
With great entreaty, Darcy persuaded Bingley to attend the occasion. Many debutantes attended the ball in search of a husband.
“I am not seeking a wife!” Bingley said, trying to resist.
“Of course not—just come and have a good time with the colonel and me.”
“I shall not dance,” he replied like a petulant child, though he enjoyed it.
“You may do whatever you wish.”
Once in the elegant, spacious room, in the presence of so many young ladies, Bingley forgot his resolve. For the first time since his departure from Netherfield, he enjoyed the evening…and the dancing.
As hosts, Darcy and the colonel had to dance with those young ladies who did not have partners.
Still, it was not long before all the cards were filled and they could retire to a corner opposite the orchestra and observe the dancers.
It had been one of their habits since they were younger.
Without being mischievous or irreverent, they were somewhat bold, but that remained their own secret.
It allowed them to know the young ladies of London, helping one another to discern their character.
It was that constant habit of judgement that led Darcy to intervene in Bingley’s love life.
He frequently had interesting information about the ladies in the ballroom, and talking with his cousin allowed them to judge their character and expose those attitudes that were cynical or betrayed cupidity.
“How many Seasons have we seen?” the colonel asked.
“I do not know—ten perhaps—enough to weary one.”
They reflected in silence on that long period and, looking around, saw many of their friends already married and with children.
“What are you saying? That we should look for wives?”
“Perhaps,” Darcy answered in an enigmatic tone that made his cousin study him.
“Have you found such a lady?” The colonel was increasingly surprised by their conversation. Nothing needed to be said; they could hide essential meanings within words only the other could understand.
“I am looking at Bingley…at the sorrow I have caused him. It has been more than two months, and he is no better.”
“But look at him: he dances and enjoys the ball…more than we do!”
Darcy nodded. “That is true, but I have the impression it is only on the surface, while deep within he is sad, regretting Miss Bennet. I know him well, and never in the past has such suffering lasted more than a couple of weeks. I remember last year in Bath: after only a few days, he was already in love again.”
“What happened in Bath?”
“He fell in love with Lady Helen Beardsley…”
“No!” exclaimed the colonel.
“Yes!” replied Darcy, almost amused. “He is like that: he sees a pretty face and a lady who seems in love, and he falls too before a word is spoken. Fortunately, Lady Helen asked him for an expensive piece of jewellery, and I think that woke him.”
“Poor man, he is slightly naive.”
“I do not know whether he is naive. I would say he tends to have a benevolent view of the world and the people around him. It is a good quality in the end. Look at us, we are both cynical, and we laugh too much.”
“That attitude has helped us avoid any trap—”
“That attitude has made us incapable of finding a young woman to love.”
Again, the colonel looked at his cousin. He had the impression that Darcy wished to share a confidence, but usually that was not the case between them.
“Are you blaming yourself for taking him away from Hertfordshire?”
“No, absolutely not. I still think that young lady was only after his money…”
“But…?” the colonel asked cautiously. He did not wish to press Darcy into a confession if he was not ready.