~Nine~
Elizabeth Darcy, had she known that she was the object of Richard Fitzwilliam’s thoughts, might have laughed.
But unfortunately, playing matchmaker was serious business, despite its reputation.
Having been at the brutal end of her mother’s own efforts at such, Elizabeth would not have believed herself a willing participant in the same, even by request. In truth, she hardly knew where to begin.
“Nonsense, you know precisely what needs to be done, you simply do not wish to do it!” she said aloud, sorting through the nearly two dozen invitations that had arrived in that morning’s post. How was it that news of their arrival had traveled so fast?
They had been in residence less than a week, having only stopped at Pemberley to settle some estate affairs and pack several trunks of necessary clothing before making for London.
Yet, despite this speed of travel, it seemed that all of society knew that Darcy House was occupied.
That, and in addition to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, there was to be a most important guest, the new Earl of Matlock.
Indeed, some of the invitations even dared to invite poor Richard Fitzwilliam by name, placing Elizabeth and Darcy afterwards.
She supposed it was merely a natural tendency to place rank in its proper place, but to her own home?
Making mention of the curious near insult to her husband, Darcy merely rolled his eyes.
“I suppose you can blame my aunt for that. If town criers were still in fashion, she would have employed several, shouting Richard’s elevation from the rooftops, as well as his need to marry.”
“I had tried to forget about her,” Elizabeth admitted honestly, having been preoccupied with the myriad of things to do.
“Impossible, and I fear that eventually, she will join us here,” Darcy replied, but felt her pain. The townhouse was one tenth the size of Pemberley, offering no way to avoid an unpleasant relation that could not be denied hospitality.
To this, Elizabeth sighed, but did not voice a complaint.
No, despite the small miracle of Lady Catherine de Bourgh going back on her vow to never acknowledge either of them, it would appear that allowances would be made when a greater purpose was at hand.
On her part, Elizabeth had told no one of their arrival save her elder sister Jane, adding a demand that she keep the arrival private.
Married to one of Darcy’s closest friends, Jane Bennet Bingley, and her husband Charles, favored a London residence for now, but soon, would resume the quest to find an estate near Pemberley.
At one time, Bingley had thought to purchase Netherfield, an empty but often let, house near that of her parents.
Unfortunately, despite the estate’s lovely vistas and handsome neo-classical style, the place allowed for far too frequent, and often unannounced, visits from their mother.
London, some twenty miles away, eased that tension somewhat, but Jane had other problems. And now, one of them was to become shared with Elizabeth.
Having completed her sorting, she opened the first, having recognized Jane’s delicate hand, but no glad tidings of welcome were within, instead, a polite warning was issued, as well as an invitation to dinner.
Looking up at her husband in dismay, Elizabeth relayed the contents of the letter.
“It’s an invitation from Jane, to dine with her and Charles at Harrison’s tomorrow.
As cook is still awaiting the rest of her supplies, I will accept, but dearest, what shall we do about Caroline?
Jane says she is staying with them; apparently there was some sort of falling out between her and Louisa. ”
“Oh? Why am I not surprised?” Darcy replied, eliciting another eyeroll. He had many memories of the heated squabbles that took place between Bingley and his sisters, with Caroline often being the instigator of all. “I suppose she is going to be a pest.”
Elizabeth returned the assessment with a glare, for calling Caroline Bingley a pest was charitable.
More than once, the woman had inserted a claim upon Darcy, and insult upon Elizabeth.
Since their marriage, they had done their best to limit any association, but that also meant doing without the friendship of Bingley and Jane.
Elizabeth missed her sister dearly and letters did not make up for companionship.
To make matters worse, Caroline was unmarried at two and thirty, yet behaved like a girl of twenty when it came to men.
If not for having retained her beauty, as well as a fortune of thirty thousand, she would have been considered officially ‘on the shelf’.
Instead, she made every other woman, even those happily married, miserable.
Richard Fitzwilliam, once beneath the notice of such women, would now be a prime target, for the one thing Miss Bingley craved beyond money was status.
Pondering what to do, Elizabeth did not hear the announcement of a visitor until Darcy’s welcome drew her back to the present.
“Richard! We did not expect you for at least a fortnight! I trust all went well with General Higgenthorpe?” he inquired, noting the lack of a regimental uniform upon his cousin’s person.
“Not quite, but we can discuss that later,” he replied, turning his attentions to Elizabeth with a wry smile. “Hello, Elizabeth, I am a bit early, but ready to begin my quest to find a wife.”