Chapter 14 Unexpected Visitor #3
Elizabeth prompted, “Sort of?”
Caroline frowned. “Now that I must say it aloud, it sounds a bit vulgar.”
“Private conversation, Miss Bingley.”
Caroline paused a moment, and finally said, “Have you any idea how difficult a time you will have entering society as Mrs Darcy?”
“Lord and Lady Matlock blathered on about it,” she replied with a puzzled frown. “Mr Bartlet, the bookseller, implied it might be difficult. I had not thought about it before, but it sounds—unpleasant.”
“It is. You will be thrown into a band of cut-throat thieves. There will be the vindictive daughters that wanted a piece of your husband, their matchmaking mothers, their fortune-hunting fathers, those who just like to cause pain, scandalmongers, and—and—”
“Peace,” Elizabeth laughed, then spoke more soberly. “I get the picture.”
“The ton is full of undercurrents, that your husband might protect you from, if he is so inclined, and if he is aware of the dangers. His inclination might be in your favour, but his knowledge will be sorely inadequate. I fear he knows less than nothing about the society of women.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, that makes sense. My husband barely understands the society of men. Have you a remedy?”
Caroline leaned forward emphatically. “Not a remedy as such, but an ally. I know an awful lot about the ton—who is nice, who is mean, who is vindictive, who is a scandalmonger, who can be trusted, who must be avoided, and who is a ruthless fortune-hunter like me.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, but Caroline continued, “We are past pretending an ox is a cow, are we not?”
“I suppose so,” Elizabeth sighed, not looking forward to entering society in the least. She might hope she could just make her home in Pemberley among the Lambton society, but that seemed absurd.
Her husband would need to maintain the Darcy family’s social status and power.
It was part and parcel of being a landowner of such a large estate.
Her husband did not seem the sort of man to retreat to his library never to return like her indolent father—though how he lived before marriage was not necessarily a guide to how he would behave after. Past was not always prologue.
“I would like to offer this. If you come to London to enter society, I will tell you everything I know about everyone I know. Forewarned is forearmed.”
Elizabeth tipped her head in thought, and asked, “What is the ‘quo’ part of this ‘quid pro quo’?”
“All I ask is that you recognise me in public. If we are at the same venue at the same time, just talk to me as slightly more than an indifferent acquaintance. It will help my position at no cost to yourself. I need not be your best friend—just someone you do not shun or ignore.”
Quite surprised the cost was so light, she offered her hand.
“It is a bargain. I cannot promise that I will ever enter society, but if I do—” then she thought a minute.
“Frankly, Miss Bingley, it seems a bit superfluous. My husband is more likely to keep his friendship with your brother than with me. You will automatically be recognised by the Darcys.”
“You really have no idea. It is one thing to be recognised by Mr Darcy of Pemberley, and something entirely different to be recognised by Mrs Darcy. I assure you, there is value in it for me.”
Elizabeth was puzzled by the whole bargain.
“I will do more than that. You came here in good faith, in the certain knowledge that I did not like you, and that my husband could make things difficult. You offered honesty and—dare I say—friendship? When and if I ever make it to London, you may consider me a friend and act accordingly—for what it is worth.”
Caroline smiled like the sun coming out after a cloudy day, and Elizabeth felt like she had done something worthwhile.
Aside from teaching Molly and Noah to read, it was the first truly worthy thing she had done as Mrs Darcy.
It bore some thought that she had done almost nothing in her new position and did not seem likely to any time soon. It was a disheartening thought.
With a sigh, she said, “I suppose taking in a weary traveller who is well known to the Darcys would not be considered entertaining?”
“You would not entertain your husband’s own uncle. I would not push my luck if I were you,” Caroline laughed.
Elizabeth was disheartened by the thought. “No, I suppose that is wise, though I must own that it grates on my nerves.”
“As the soldiers say, you need to keep your powder dry.”
“What an unusual analogy. I do believe you have more depth than I had believed, Miss Bingley.”
“I do try, Mrs Darcy.”
“Elizabeth!”
Surprised, the lady replied, “Caroline!”
Elizabeth noticed the sun was approaching the horizon. She was surprised to learn Caroline had been there several hours.
“I think I can arrange for your carriage to be broken for the night, if you care to stay, Caroline, but I will draw the line at dressing for dinner.”
“Are you certain?”
“Dead certain,” Elizabeth replied emphatically, wondering if that was the moment for her to quit whimpering and finally start taking charge of her own life.
She rang the bell-pull for the butler and wondered if it worked. When he appeared, she imparted the proper instructions and ordered the kitchen staff to prepare a proper formal meal—if they still remembered how.
After a wonderful dinner, which tasted like the kitchen was dying to impress the new mistress, and a good night’s sleep, she saw her one and only true friend of her own station off in the morning, wondering when and if she would ever see her again.