Chapter Seven
Elizabeth usually anticipated assemblies and balls with eagerness, but the best she could say about the ball at Viscount Harwood’s house was that she was eager for it to be finished.
She and Jane had developed a strategy as best they could, but they were hardly master thieves.
There were many ways in which their scheme could go awry.
The circumstances would be quite complicated. In addition to avoiding the viscount and his servants, Elizabeth could not raise Mr. Darcy’s suspicion. She doubted he would approve of her larcenous intentions.
And then the situation grew even more complicated. A little after the midday meal on the day of the ball, Elizabeth was in her bedchamber, attempting to concentrate on a book.
She had absently noted a racket coming from Lady Sterling’s front hall. And then her name and Jane’s were called in a familiar shrill voice. Her stomach lurched. It cannot be—
The sisters hurried down the stairs, where Elizabeth’s worst fears were confirmed. Her mother had arrived in London. On the scale of disasters, it rated below a volcanic eruption but above a broken limb.
Mrs. Bennet was harried and travel-worn, yet she examined her surroundings curiously, noting the splendor of Lady Sterling’s furnishings. The footmen were conveying an ominous number of trunks into the front hallway.
“Mama!” Elizabeth cried. “We did not expect you. Is there an emergency at home?”
“Of course not!” her mother said tartly. “We need no emergency to come and visit our darling daughters.”
We? Oh no ….
Elizabeth’s father stomped through the door. He hated London.
“Papa! You traveled to London?” Jane exclaimed.
He grimaced. “Your mother demanded that I come to give my consent.”
Elizabeth’s stomach lurched again. Consent for what? She embraced her parents. Had they somehow heard about her “engagement” to Mr. Darcy? Impossible. The gossip mill was good but not magical.
Lady Sterling descended the stairs at a more decorous pace than the younger women. “Fanny. Thomas. What an unexpected…treat.” Her ladyship had an unnerving ability to say welcoming words in an unwelcoming way.
As I suspected, my parents arrive without invitation.
My mortification is complete. Lady Sterling’s relationship with Mrs. Bennet was a bit fraught.
She had once referred to Elizabeth’s mother as “the bad idea your father married.” Her ladyship had produced an affable smile for Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, but her right eyelid twitched, a sure sign of annoyance.
“Viscount Harwood wrote to invite us to his ball tonight!” Elizabeth’s mother exulted. “I barely had time to have my silk gown remade!” She took Elizabeth’s hand. “This will be a compliment to you, Lizzy. I am sure he means to make you an offer.”
Oh no.
Jane’s expression mirrored Elizabeth’s alarm. There was only one reason the viscount would invite her parents: he wanted to pressure Elizabeth into acceding to his demands. Her parents were a reminder of what was at stake. What an odious man!
“I do not believe so, Mama,” Elizabeth said.
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Bennet shrugged out of her pelisse and handed it to a footman. “Why else would he invite us?”
Elizabeth glanced at her father. His heavy expression suggested he suspected the viscount’s true motives. But he would be of no assistance. Her father avoided responsibility even when it was actively chasing him.
Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands. “I cannot wait! A London ball! How elegant.”
“I could use some brandy,” her husband said.
Lady Sterling suggested they retire to a drawing room, a tastefully appointed room in shades of rose, and ordered tea. As everyone settled into their seats, Jane shot a worried look at Elizabeth. Once their mother was in the room, could marital exhortations be far behind?
The tea arrived, and the conversation was desultory as everyone took pleasure in the cook’s excellent lemon biscuits.
But Jane’s fear was well-founded. Once Mrs. Bennet had refreshed herself, she regarded Jane like a hunter stalking a deer. “Have you attracted the interest of any eligible men?”
Mr. Bennet poured some brandy into his tea.
“We only arrived a fortnight ago, Mama,” Jane demurred.
“That is not our purpose in coming to town,” Elizabeth said firmly.
Mrs. Bennet waved that away. “Pssh! Of course it is.”
Elizabeth spoke through clenched teeth. “Mama, we came as Lady Sterling’s guests and to keep her company. We are fortunate that it pleases her to have us accompany her to various occasions.”
Her mother fluttered her handkerchief. “Yes. Yes. But London is replete with wealthy and eligible young men. You must be tripping over them.”
Elizabeth massaged her forehead. “Wealthy and eligible men usually prefer women with big dowries.”
“You two are pretty enough that it will not matter!” her mother pronounced. “You’re not plain like Mary.”
“Jane has met a Mr. Bingley,” Lady Sterling volunteered. “He has five thousand a year and comes from a good family.”
Elizabeth winced. Her godmother was a bit too fond of gossip.
“Oh! Oh! That is exceedingly promising!” their mother cried. “Has he come to the point yet?”
Jane blushed. “I have only met him on two occasions.”
“The third time is the charm!” Her mother trilled. “You must wear your most becoming gown tonight.” Then Mrs. Bennet fastened her attention on her second daughter. “What have you done to secure the viscount’s affections?”
Elizabeth needed to rein in this runaway horse. “I do not want to secure the viscount’s affections.” One of the reasons I came to London was to avoid the viscount’s affections. Unfortunately, the viscount’s affections proved as hard to dodge as a bullet.
Her father poured more brandy into his tea.
“Foolish girl!” her mother exclaimed. “Why would you refuse an opportunity to be a viscountess?”
“You might as well ask me if I would refuse an opportunity to have apoplexy.”
But her mother did not heed Elizabeth. She had a prodigious ability to ignore inconvenient information. Elizabeth was tempted to tell her mother what the viscount actually wanted from her. That would quell her eagerness for a match.
But such things were not discussed in Mayfair drawing rooms, and the truth would embarrass her father in front of Lady Sterling. Mrs. Bennet knew nothing of her husband’s foolishness. The truth would only provoke more anxiety about being thrown into the hedgerows.
“Lizzy has attracted the attention of other men,” Lady Sterling pronounced, no doubt believing she was helping. “A Mr. Darcy danced with her at the last ball and accompanied her on a walk at the Portlands’ garden party.”
Elizabeth grabbed hold of her composure with both hands, even though she wanted to scream. Mr. Darcy, the one man she was certain not to marry, was the last person she wanted to discuss with her mother. But a charging bull could not deter Mrs. Bennet when she had a matrimonial gleam in her eye.
“Ohhhh!” her mother gasped. “Is he wealthy?”
“Mama, you know I am not seeking a husband. I merely enjoy Town.”
“I have heard he is worth ten thousand a year,” Lady Sterling interjected.
Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands. “Ten thousand! Why, Mr. Bingley’s fortune is nothing to that!”
“It does not signify. I do not believe he is interested in marrying me,” Elizabeth asserted. I am the last woman he would make an offer to.
“Well, then we will need to ensure Viscount Harwood comes up to scratch,” her mother said. Apparently, Elizabeth was not allowed to depart London without a fiancé.
Elizabeth felt slightly ill. How would this complicate their plans for obtaining the voucher? “Mama, I do not wish to marry the viscount.”
“Nonsense!”
“I assure you I am the foremost authority on my own wants and desires.”
“When he makes you an offer, you will perceive all the advantages of such a match.” Her mother nodded vigorously. “The jewels and furs you will have!”
Lady Sterling must have noted the dismay on Elizabeth’s countenance. “We will have time to discuss that later. Surely you are fatigued, Fanny?” She deftly directed the conversation to Mrs. Bennet’s favorite subject: herself.
“Indeed!” Mrs. Bennet mopped her brow with a handkerchief. “It was such a horrid trip. So grueling!”
Mr. Bennet set down his teacup, his hands shaking. “I confess to some fatigue as well.”
Lady Sterling stood and escorted her guests toward the door. “I will have the maid show you to your rooms so you might refresh yourself and rest before the ball.”
As the sisters watched their parents ascend the stairs, Jane clutched Elizabeth’s hand. Elizabeth nodded. Their parents’ presence at the ball could only make their plan more difficult.
***
By the time Elizabeth arrived at the ball her chest ached, and she was breathing rapidly. Through great effort of will, she managed to greet the viscount and his mother amiably, all the while hoping that her smile did not appear forced. Jane, however, spoke to them with admirable calm.
Luckily, they had arrived before their parents.
As Lady Sterling had arranged to transport one of her neighbors, there was no room in her coach for Mr. and Mrs. Bennet.
After they disembarked at the ball, her ladyship sent the carriage back to Sterling House to collect her other guests.
With a little more luck, Elizabeth might keep her parents separate from Mr. Darcy, and he would never know they were in London.
She did not relish the prospect of introducing him to her mother.
The viscount’s ballroom was quite as large as the Pritchards’ but not nearly as elegantly decorated.
While the Pritchards’ ballroom displayed a few judiciously chosen furnishings, the viscount’s was draped in gold trim, heavy curtains, and extravagantly large and ugly paintings.
However, the room mirrored its owner’s personality quite admirably.