2. Chapter Two
Gentle readers, it has come to the attention of this author that the elusive Lady E, beloved niece of the Marchioness, Lady C, publicly cut Mr. FD of Derbyshire at Lady M’s ball the other night. What did our most hunted bachelor of the season do to deserve such a public set-down?
Fitzwilliam Darcy, what have you done?
The outraged words of Lady Courtland rang like a peal over his head while he watched the lithe figure of Lady Elizabeth pass through the main doors of the ballroom.
“Fitzwilliam! I demand you answer me this instance!”
His head swiveled toward Lady Courtland and for the first time in his life, one of his favorite cousins from Derbyshire was not smiling at him. She stood glaring at him, her back ramrod straight. Immediately, he saw the familial resemblance to Lady Elizabeth.
“Without cause, I insulted your niece most grievously.”
The bald truth was laid before them. He would not prevaricate on this matter. He had behaved abominably.
“What did you say to her? I have never known Elizabeth to behave in such a rude manner. Her manners are always impeccable.”
“I said in her presence she was nothing but an ordinary garden flower and not handsome enough to warrant an introduction.”
Coming face to face with Lady Elizabeth allowed him to observe what he’d overlooked in his earlier fit of pique. Although not classically beautiful, her doe-shaped eyes were a shade of dark green and her figure, what he’d seen of it as she quit the ballroom, was light and pleasing. She was more than handsome enough to warrant an introduction.
“You what!” This came from the marquis. “Even if you did not know Elizabeth, what gave you the right to speak in such a demeaning manner to any woman?”
“I had no right.”
Lady Courtland pulled herself to her full height, which barely reached his shoulder.
“Tomorrow you will attend our home and apologize to my niece.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Darcy,” the marquis said in a low voice. “You had better strengthen the fabric in the knees of your trousers. Elizabeth is not known for relenting. She can hold onto a grudge like a child does her favorite doll.”
Darcy grimaced at how his earlier jibe about his cousin was turned back onto him. Indeed, he would have to beg forgiveness and very likely eat humble pie as well. He did not look forward to the morrow. It was at this time Ashton joined their somber group.
“Lord Courtland,” he said in greeting and pasted what Darcy knew to be a very fake smile on his face. “I wonder if you and Darcy would join me for a drink in the card room.” In an undertone, he continued. “We must stop the tittle-tattle which is springing up around us like weeds in an unkempt garden.”
Darcy nearly groaned. Of all the metaphors his cousin could have chosen, any reference to a garden would reignite Lady Courtland’s displeasure. Not that it had abated. The flames of her anger still burned bright.
“How interesting, Ashton, that you reference a garden. Were you, by chance, privy to a conversation Darcy had earlier about common garden flowers?”
Ashton cocked his head, giving his cousin a wary glance, unsure of how to answer.
“There may have been mention of flowers, which is not surprising, considering the beautiful array of English roses in attendance at Lady Montrose’s ball.”
“Give it up, Ash,” Darcy said in a tired voice. “Lord and Lady Courtland are aware of my rude comment concerning the young lady who bumped into me.”
“Is she the genesis of all this gossip? If so, I am heartily sorry I urged you to speak with her.”
“Are you now accusing my niece of gossip? I am fully disgusted by your arrogant behavior and cannot remain in your presence any longer.” Lady Courtland turned to her husband, completely ignoring Ashton’s stunned expression and subsequent questioning look he shot at Darcy. “I wish to go home, immediately.”
“As you like, my dear. I shall call up the carriage while you make our farewells to Lady Montrose.” Lord Courtland leaned down and kissed his wife’s cheek. “What shall I tell anyone who asks why we are leaving so early?”
“I have come down with a colossal headache, brought on by two towering jack—” She paused and amended her word. “—jackals masquerading as family.”
Her husband gave her a soft smile.
“I will tell them you have a megrim. No need to stoke the fires of gossip any further.”
“What of Elizabeth? She may have gone to the lady’s withdrawing room.”
“You know her better than that. She is very likely in the library reading some tragic Greek novel. I shall have a footman check there first and ask that she meet us in the foyer in a half-hour.”
All this time, neither the marquis nor his lady wife looked at or acknowledged their cousins, that is until Lord Courtland stepped toward them after his wife had quit their presence to find Lady Montrose.
“I am unsure why the two of you think it is all well and good to look down your collective noses at those you deem unworthy. Keep in mind, while you think you are so grand, perched on your high rung of the social ladder, those below, forced to look up, do not see fine gentlemen. All they see are a pair of asses.”
It appeared the marquis was not afraid to use the word their cousin had amended. Lord Courtland strode off to call for his carriage and find his niece.
“Can you tell me what has just occurred? I gather the lady you insulted was Lady Courtland’s niece, as well as our cousin.”
“One of the late Earl of Tiverton’s daughters.”
“Well, you certainly stepped into it, Darcy,” Ashton teased. “I have told you more than once you would at some point rue the day you turned your patrician nose up in the air without cause.”
Ashton then rubbed his hands together and began to canvas the room.
“Now, you still must fulfill the terms of our wager and dance the supper set. Who is your partner this evening?”
“Lady Courtland was my partner, until… well, you know, my disgraceful conduct became public knowledge,” Darcy said and could not stop himself from tracking the movement of their older cousin as she spoke with their hostess. “I ask you to grant me reprieve for the rest of the evening. I am not in the mood and will likely follow our relative’s example and go home.”
“I would be remiss if I did not caution you against quitting the field. As it is, the nattering grannies will dine out on this morsel of gossip for weeks. Hold your head high and find a nice unassuming lady to petition for a dance.”
“You have now fallen below even Frederick.”
“I am pierced.” Ashton, once again, clutched his chest in mock agony. “Pierced that your esteem for me has fallen below our ne’er-do-well disreputable second cousin who is banned from all family gatherings.”
“He at least would not demand I dance three sets a ball.”
“No, his terms of the wager would have had you bedding three wenches in one evening, mayhap all at once. He is an unrepentant rake and seducer of innocents, and would love nothing better than to drag us all into his den of iniquity.”
“I would never agree to such terms. I think I would rather be thought of as ungentlemanly than partake in anything Frederick offers.”
“True. Enough dilly-dallying. You need a dance partner.” Ashton suddenly smiled. “I have just the person. Come with me.”
“No, I refuse to blindly go with you to meet some young lady.”
“My terms are non-negotiable, and the orchestra will be sounding the opening chords any minute. You will secure a partner for this dance. Now, come with me, no arguments.”
Darcy followed his cousin to the outside edges of the ballroom and came to a halt in front of two young ladies who looked startled at their abrupt arrival.
“Miss Dashwood, Miss Marianne. May I introduce my cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire?” Ashton turned slightly toward Darcy. “The Misses Dashwood currently hail from Devonshire. Their father’s estate was Norland Park in Sussex.”
“Mr. Darcy,” both ladies said as they dropped into polite curtsies.
“Miss Dashwood,” Darcy replied. “Miss Marianne.”
“Miss Marianne,” Ashton said. “Would you do me the honor of dancing the supper set with me?”
“It would be my pleasure, Lord Ashton.”
The two of them immediately made their way to the dance floor and joined the others, who were lining up in preparation for the Quadrille. Left facing the remaining sister, Darcy had no choice but to ask if she would partner with him for the same set.
“Please do not feel you must ask me to dance, Mr. Darcy. Your cousin left you in an untenable situation and I will not be offended if you take your leave.”
Surprised by her gentility and calm manner of speaking, Darcy decided her company was not something to dread. The second time he requested her company for the dance, he looked her in the eye and smiled. A genuine smile.
“Miss Dashwood, it would be my honor if you stood with me for this dance. Even though I am in dire need of someone who is not afraid to turn me down, I beg it not be you.”
Her ensuing laugh was soft and light.
“I believe there is a story behind this request, which you can tell me in full while we dine – after our set.”
He crooked his elbow and Miss Dashwood laid her gloved hand lightly on his forearm and they took their place next to Ashton and Miss Marianne.
The next morning, a slight noise alerted Elizabeth that her aunt had entered her bedchamber while she and the maid finished up the last of her packing. Her papa’s carriage would arrive in less than three hours to take her back home to Hertfordshire. Aunt Sarah picked up one of her shawls and carefully folded it before laying it in one of the trunks.
“I am so sorry your last evening in town was ruined by our mutual cousin.”
A wry grin twisted Elizabeth’s lip upon remembering her first encounter with the two men. If she had known they were distant relations, she might have said something that may have altered the trajectory of their evening. Alas, that did not happen.
“Do not apologize, Aunt Sarah. It is not your fault. He is a man fully grown and accountable for his behavior. You have done nothing wrong.”
With her packing nearly done, Elizabeth left her maid to finish the job and, threading her arm around her aunt’s, walked with her down to the family parlor.
“Truly, I do not know what has gotten into him. He is a fine young man, at least he was.” Her aunt sighed heavily. “Since his father died, the mantle of responsibility has been heavy on his shoulders, but John and I thought he was handling himself very well, considering the circumstance.”
“What circumstance was that?” Elizabeth found herself asking, immediately regretful about showing any interest in the haughty man.
“He has a sister. She is nearly twelve years his junior and was only ten when Mr. George Darcy died.” At Elizabeth’s questioning glance, her aunt expanded the explanation. “Their mother died when Georgiana was very young. She has almost no memory of her mother. Regardless, at the age of two and twenty, Fitzwilliam had to take over the running of the Darcy estates as well as care for his little sister.”
“Estates?”
“The Darcy landholdings are vast, my dear. I dare say, Darcy’s wealth is comparable to the Duke of Devonshire, although he does not like this information bandied about. He is quite happy with people thinking he has only ten thousand a year.”
“Even that sum is staggering.”
“Despite all this, Fitzwilliam has remained polite if a bit aloof. I believe the constant attention and ploys of desperate mammas and their equally frantic daughters have finally pierced the veil of his good temper and you, unfortunately, bore the brunt of his displeasure.”
“While I appreciate you informing me of his goodness, I can only judge on what I experienced and, frankly, I am not impressed. However, I shall not see the gentleman ever again so I can wipe this unpleasant memory from my mind and go home with a clean conscience and treasure all the other memories I gathered while staying with you and Uncle John.”
“We have enjoyed having you, and Jane for the short period she graced us with earlier before your mamma had one of her spells and your sister hastened home to take care of her.”
“I would have gladly gone home with Jane, but my sister insisted I stay and meet some young man.”
Aunt Sarah smiled and said, “You did meet a young man, and did not like him.”
“Forgive me if I do not tell her that. She will gently chastise me for not overlooking his bad manners. If Mamma finds out, she might blame me for not exciting his interest enough for a dance.”
“Your mother is not that bad, Lizzy.”
“She is not, but she truly worries about all our futures. There are five of us to find husbands for. At least Kitty and Lydia will not come out for another few years.”
“I am glad your parents did not stand by that old notion that the younger cannot come out until the eldest is married. Can you imagine you and Mary still in the schoolroom?”
“Mary would not mind. She does not like balls and would rather spend her time either reading or playing the pianoforte.”
“And yourself?”
“The only thing I would miss is dancing. I do so love to dance.”
“Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy has arrived, my lady,” the butler said upon opening the parlor door. “Are you home to visitors this morning?”
Aunt Sarah looked at Elizabeth who ever so slightly shrugged her slim shoulders. Taking the gesture as a tacit agreement she would meet him, the marchioness said, “We are home to Mr. Darcy.”
The butler withdrew with a respectful bow.
“You do not have to see the gentleman if you do not wish to, however, he has come to apologize, proving he is not completely bereft of good manners.”
“From the first moment I laid eyes on him, I witnessed a selfish disdain for the feelings of others.” Her aunt briefly closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. Upon witnessing the lady’s discomfort, Elizabeth sighed. “I shall see him, Aunt Sarah. My only hope is that he does not tarry long. I am in no mood to tolerate men with overblown egos.”
It was at that exact moment Mr. Darcy entered the room, a dull red tingeing the tips of his ears the only indication he had heard some, if not all of her comments.
“Lady Sarah, Lady Elizabeth,” he said with a stiff bow.
“Good afternoon, Fitzwilliam.”
Aunt Sarah invited him to take a seat, and it did not escape Elizabeth’s attention that he took the farthest one from her. She held back a sniff of disgust. Fine by her, she did not want to sit next to the odious man anyway, even if he was so handsome her stomach clenched. If the raised brow on her aunt’s face was any indicator, she had also noticed.
“Would you care for some tea?”
“No, thank you. I cannot stay long; I have another appointment.” Mr. Darcy shifted in the chair, clearly uncomfortable in their company. “I must apologize to you, Lady Elizabeth. My comments last night were uncomplimentary and uncalled for. My parents, were they still alive, would have been sorely disappointed in my behavior.”
“Your apology is acceptable, Mr. Darcy.”
But the insult is not forgotten, she thought to herself and restrained from saying anything more. Realizing she was not going to expand on her comment or demand anything further, he stood and addressed her aunt.
“I would like to extend a dinner invitation to you and your husband for tomorrow evening, along with your niece. To waylay the gossip, we can present a unified front and show there is no rancor between us.” His expression turned apologetic. “I regret the short notice, but I am leaving town the day following to visit my sister in Ramsgate and this was the only evening I had open.”
“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Darcy, but I return home tomorrow and cannot attend your dinner party,” Elizabeth offered in a bright voice.
She made no effort to conceal the fact she was glad she could refuse his loathsome offer.
“Sad, but true,” her aunt said, sending a look of warning toward her niece. “However, if the offer still stands for my husband and me, we can attend and will drop helpful hints that everything is smooth sailing from our end.”
“Thank you, Lady Courtland.” Mr. Darcy gave her aunt a slight nod of his head and turned to Elizabeth, giving her a proper half-bow. “I bid you a good day and safe travels, Lady Elizabeth.”
She also stood and returned his bow with a half curtsy.
“Thank you, and you as well, Mr. Darcy.”
He executed a perfect pivot on his heel and quit the room.
“Odious man!” Elizabeth huffed out as soon as the door closed. “Cousin or not, I do not believe that puffed-up peacock meant one single word of his apology.”
“A peacock he is not, my dear. Do not let your festering anger blind you to the man’s good qualities.”
Aunt Sarah had resumed her seat and now sipped her tea, which had most assuredly gone tepid. Elizabeth paced a few more times before retaking her abandoned seat.
“I am aware you like this gentleman, the warmth of your voice when you first greeted him last time paid testament to this fact.”
“I do like him, Elizabeth.” Aunt Sarah set down her teacup. “For the longest time, I held onto a faint hope he would turn his attention toward Sophia.”
“Your daughter has had her eye on Mr. McCallister from the time she could finally abandon her braids and wear her hair up. No other but him will do for Sophia.”
“What you say is true.” Her aunt studied the pattern of her bone-china teacup, clearly deep in thought. “I wonder how the night would have gone if she had attended the ball with us instead of the theater with Celia?”
“I am certain Mr. Darcy would have found another way to insult me, dear aunt. I truly do not believe he thinks me worth his notice, title or not.”
“If that were true, it would certainly be his loss, for you are a treasure. You, Jane, and Trenton are all I have left of my brother Timothy and I love all of you dearly.”
Elizabeth took her aunt’s hand in hers.
“And you, Harold, and Sophia are all we have left of our father’s family.”
“I have the better part of that deal; I have been blessed with a nephew and five beautiful nieces as my son and daughter have yet to marry and give me grandchildren.”
“I do not believe you understand how much we appreciate the fact you embrace Mary, Kitty, and Lydia as part of your family.”
“They are your sisters, Elizabeth, and share your blood. Therefore, they belong to us as well.” Aunt Sarah picked up a lemon biscuit and placed it on her plate. “Never forget that. We are family.”