Chapter Seventy-Six
Mary!” Elizabeth knocked on Mary’s door.
“Come in!”
Elizabeth walked in and closed the door. “I am going to Gracechurch Street this afternoon, Mary,” she whispered.
“I will accompany you,” Mary whispered back. “But why are we whispering?”
“I am afraid the Countess will hear me!” Elizabeth laughed.
“Is she here?” Mary asked in alarm.
“No; I am just being silly.”
“She would not approve, would she?”
“I have already warned her that I would not snub my relatives, but I do not wish to poke a hornet’s nest. When can you be ready?”
“Just let me get my new coat. Oh, Aunt Madeleine will hardly recognise me, will she!”
No, Elizabeth thought, eyeing Mary carefully. ‘London’ Mary, with her fashionable clothing and her hair beautifully arranged bore little resemblance to ‘Longbourn’ Mary. “They have always thought you beautiful, Mary,” she replied, honestly.
***
If the coachman was surprised at being directed to take the new Mrs. Darcy and her sister to Gracechurch Street, he was far too well-trained to show it. Elizabeth gave him some coins and suggested that he find a nearby pub and get himself something to eat.
“Come for us in about an hour,” she said.
He thanked her politely, touched his hat respectfully, and drove off.
“Lizzy! Mary! Come in! Oh, heavens, let me look at the two of you! Oh, Mary, I scarce recognised you! And your hair does take a curl after all!”
Mrs. Gardiner let the little boys spend a quarter of an hour with their cousins and then had the nursery maid take them upstairs. “Now we may talk,” she said. “Tell me, Lizzy, how are you finding things?”
“Exhausting, if I am honest,” Elizabeth said.
“Everyone wants to know everything about me, it seems. But I am so very dull, in truth, that everyone just keeps digging and digging, looking for something remarkable about me. I wonder if I should invent something scandalous in my past just to satisfy everyone!”
“No, I beg that you do not,” Mrs. Gardiner said, looking horrified. “Being dull is the best possible recommendation. But it must be very tiring, indeed, to have to be so constantly on one’s guard.”
“I am weary of being stared at,” Elizabeth said, moodily. “I am weary of having my dresses inspected. I am weary of being disapproved of, for being reminded every day of my lack of connections and dowry.”
“Has anyone mentioned Miss Darcy?” Mrs. Gardiner enquired.
“No one has dared to, no; though I cannot help but feel that they are very much wanting to. Oh, and every single young lady that Mr. Darcy has ever looked at, much less danced with, has been thrown in my face! Why, oh why, they wonder, did he marry poor little old me, rather than Lady Amelia, Lady Annamarie, Lady Emma, and a hundred other young ladies! I think that might be the most annoying thing of all!”
Mrs. Gardiner chuckled. “When we visited Longbourn at Christmas, Mr. Gardiner told me in private that he had never seen a man as enamoured of a woman as Mr. Darcy was of you!”
“Truly?” Elizabeth asked.
“Truly. Whatever it is that creates a bond between a man and a woman, whatever mystery that is – for no one knows, that is certain! – you and your Mr. Darcy have it in abundance. And the simple answer as to why he did not marry Lady Amelia, Lady Annamarie or Lady Emma is simply because none of them were you, my dearest Lizzy.”
Elizabeth leaned her head against her aunt’s shoulder. “Thank you, aunt,” she whispered. Then she sat upright. “Oh! Before I forget! You will soon get an invitation to a ball at Matlock House, and you must come!”
“Does the Countess truly want us there?”
“What does that matter? The ball is in honour of the new Mrs. Darcy, and I promise you that she wants you there very, very much!”
“Then we shall certainly attend, Lizzy.” Mrs. Gardiner hugged her niece hard. Then she looked over at Mary. “And what of your Colonel, Mary?”
Mary protested that he certainly was not her Colonel, Mrs. Gardiner argued that he very likely was, and the visit ended with a good deal of laughter.