Chapter 5 #2
“This is my young friend,” Lady Matlock said smoothly. “She is in need of a complete wardrobe. Spare no expense, madame. She must have everything—morning gowns, walking gowns, evening gowns, ball gowns, spencers, pelisses, bonnets, gloves, stockings. Everything.”
Madame Dupree’s excitement was hard to contain. Such a commission. “Mais certainement! Come, ma chère, let us take your measurements.”
The dressmaker whisked Elizabeth behind a screen and subjected her to what felt like an endless round of measuring, pinning, and draping fabrics.
Madame Dupree clucked approvingly over her figure while calling out numbers to her assistant.
When Elizabeth emerged, she found Lady Matlock in conversation with three fashionably dressed matrons.
“Lady Sefton, Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, Lady Cowper,” Lady Matlock said, her tone perfectly cordial. “I am sponsoring this young lady this Season.” Her Ladyship gestured to Elizabeth with familiarity. “She is staying with us at Matlock House.”
The three matrons scrutinized Elizabeth with the assessing gazes of women accustomed to judging social standing at a glance. Elizabeth met their eyes and curtseyed with exacting propriety—neither excessive nor insufficient.
“Charming,” Lady Cowper said, though her air suggested she was reserving judgment. “And where is your family from, my dear?”
“Hertfordshire, your Ladyship,” Elizabeth replied. “A small estate, Longbourn, near Meryton.”
“I cannot say I have ever heard of it.” Lady Cowper sniffed.
“I am not surprised,” Elizabeth said with a slight smile. “We are quite unremarkable, I assure you. Our greatest distinction is a very fine assembly room and the fleetest gossip in three shires, which, I suspect, is only surpassed by London.”
Lady Sefton’s eyebrows rose with amusement as Lady Cowper grinned. “You have a refreshing honesty, my dear.”
“Hertfordshire,” Mrs. Drummond-Burrell said. “How…rustic.”
“Indeed bucolic, madam.” Elizabeth could only hope she sounded intelligent in front of Lady Matlock’s acquaintances. “Such pastoral charm as sheep and poultry would never do in Mayfair.”
Lady Sefton laughed outright.
“Elizabeth has been keeping my niece Georgiana company,” Lady Matlock interjected smoothly. “The poor dear has been so lonely in Town. It has been quite beneficial for her to have a friend near her own age.”
Lady Cowper patted Elizabeth’s arm. “I begin to see why Lady Matlock encourages your association with Miss Darcy. She is a reticent girl, very much like her brother.”
The mention of Georgiana Darcy—and the implicit connection to the Darcy fortune—seemed to remind the matrons that Elizabeth was no longer merely a nobody from Hertfordshire, but someone under Lady Matlock’s protection who was connected to the Darcys.
“How kind of you,” Lady Sefton said, her tone sincere. “Miss Darcy is a sweet girl.”
“I quite agree,” Elizabeth said.
The conversation turned to other matters—upcoming balls, the latest scandals, who had returned to Town for the Season. Elizabeth remained quiet, observing how Lady Matlock navigated the social waters with practiced ease.
When they finally departed the dressmaker’s shop, Elizabeth released a breath.
“Well done, my dear,” Lady Matlock said as their carriage pulled away.
“Those women—they are important in society?”
“Very. Lady Sefton and Mrs. Drummond-Burrell are patronesses of Almack’s. Lady Cowper also wields considerable influence. It was fortunate that they saw you with me. It establishes your respectability, at least by association.”
Elizabeth absorbed this information, understanding the careful maneuvering Lady Matlock had just executed on her behalf.
By speaking of her as “Elizabeth” with such familiarity, by mentioning Miss Darcy, by treating her as a friend rather than a charity case, her Ladyship had begun the delicate work of preparing society to accept her as Mrs. Darcy.
“Thank you, Lady Matlock,” Elizabeth said.
Her Ladyship regarded her thoughtfully. “You are not what I expected, Miss Bennet. You are more…biddable than I anticipated. And you clearly care for my nephew’s happiness. We witnessed your private exchange last evening. That counts in my book.”
When they returned to Matlock House, they found Darcy waiting in the drawing room. He rose as they entered. “How was your morning?” he asked.
“Educational,” Elizabeth replied with enthusiasm. “I still have columns of numbers running through my head.”
“You will master it,” Darcy said with confidence. He moved closer, taking her hand. “Are you well?”
Determined to be honest in all things, Elizabeth said, “I am. Still, this is the first time I have not had either my mother, sisters, or aunt with me when I selected fabrics for my gowns. Although your aunt was kind, it was not the same. Jane must be beside herself with worry. And Mary must wonder if we succeeded in arriving safely. I am certain my mother has notified my aunt and uncle Gardiner, who live near Cheapside, that I am missing. They are my favorites. Is there any way they can be reassured?” Her concern weighed on her.
“If I send a letter, my father will know where I am.”
“Not if we are careful,” Darcy said. “You might want to tell them you are residing with a respectable family in a household where you are safe and protected. Do not include a return direction. We will not use a seal that might identify you. I will have the letter taken to another part of London for posting. There will be no way to trace it back to Matlock House.”
“That would suffice, I suppose.”
His hand tightened on hers. “I know what it is to love one’s sister deeply. I would not keep you from reassuring your family if it can be done safely.”
Elizabeth felt tears prick at her eyes. “Thank you. You cannot know what this means to me.”
“Then go and write your letter. I will ensure it reaches them without compromising our plan.”
Elizabeth carefully selected each word.
Dearest Jane,
Please do not worry for me—I am well cared for, and in no danger.
I am to be a friend to a young lady in a respectable house. The family has been most kind to me, and I want for nothing. I cannot give you further details at this time, but I promise that all is well.
Please know that I think of you every day. I miss you terribly, but I do not regret my choice. I hope you can forgive me for the worry I have caused.
When I can, I will write again with everything you likely want to know. Until then, please trust that I am exactly where I need to be. Give my love and reassurance to my sisters.
Your loving sister,
Elizabeth
She brought it to Darcy. He read it over, nodded his approval, sealed it sans the Darcy crest, and tucked it into his coat.
“I will see it posted this evening. Your family should receive it shortly.”
“Thank you.” She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “For everything.”
Darcy caught her hand before she could step away. “You need not thank me for doing what any decent man would do. You are to be my wife, Elizabeth. Your happiness is my happiness.”
As Elizabeth watched him leave for Darcy House, she felt that same sensation that had come the night before. Perhaps, she thought, loving Fitzwilliam Darcy would not be as difficult as she had expected.