Chapter Sixteen
Morning at Matlock House unfolded with its usual order, though the household bore the subtle signs of recent excitement.
Trunks had arrived late the previous evening, servants had moved briskly through the halls long after midnight, and now the presence of Lord and Lady Matlock lent the house a renewed sense of consequence.
Elizabeth entered the breakfast room with careful steps, her expression calm though touched with fatigue.
The night had been a restless one. Little Viola had taken ill—nothing severe, the physician had assured them, but enough to keep the nursery wakeful and anxious.
Elizabeth had sat with Jane for several hours before sending her exhausted sister to bed.
Then she spent the night soothing, pacing, offering what comfort she could until the child at last settled.
She paused just inside the doorway.
Jane sat at the table, her countenance much recovered despite the lateness of the previous evening, while Lady Matlock, newly arrived, presided with gentle authority. Lord Matlock occupied his usual place, already engaged with his coffee, his expression one of calm interest.
“My dear Lizzy,” Jane said at once, looking up with warmth. “You look tired. You should have rested longer.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly as she took her seat. “Viola required much of my attention,” she said. “It was late before she slept. Though I am glad one of us managed a good night’s sleep.”
Lady Matlock regarded her with approval. “You are a devoted sister, Miss Bennet. Such attentions are not lightly given.”
“I am very happy to give them,” Elizabeth replied, reaching for her tea.
Jane leaned forward, her eyes bright with lingering excitement. “Oh, Lizzy—you must hear everything. The ball was delightful—more than delightful, in fact. I scarcely know where to begin.”
Elizabeth lifted her cup, her attention only partially engaged. “Perhaps at the beginning,” she said lightly.
Jane laughed. “Very well. The rooms were quite full, and the company most distinguished. There were several new faces, but none so remarkable as—”
“The Count,” Lord Matlock supplied, setting aside his cup.
“Yes,” Jane said, smiling. “The Count of Vendicarsi—and his brother.”
Lady Matlock inclined her head. “I heard a great deal about them last evening. It seems they have made quite an impression.”
“They have,” Jane agreed warmly. “They are…quite unlike anyone I have ever met.”
Elizabeth sipped her tea, listening with half an ear as Jane kept speaking.
“The count is reserved—very much so—but not in an unkind way. There is a steadiness about him, an authority. One feels at once that he is a man accustomed to command, though he does not exert it unnecessarily.”
Elizabeth’s gaze lowered briefly to her cup.
“And his brother,” Jane went on, “is more openly engaging. Very lively in conversation—he reminds me a little of Colonel Fitzwilliam in that regard—just as my husband described.”
Lady Matlock smiled. “That is no small recommendation.”
“Indeed not,” Jane said. “They danced, of course—the count with Miss Halstead for the second set, and later with several others. I observed him closely—one could not help it—and he carries himself with such composure. There is nothing forced in his manner.”
Elizabeth nodded faintly, though her thoughts remained distant.
“And to know they live at Ashcombe House,” Jane added. “Directly across from us. Such a fortunate circumstance.”
“Fortunate indeed,” Lady Matlock said. “It is not every day that one gains so distinguished a neighbor.”
Lord Matlock leaned back in his chair. “I am told,” he said, “that it is only a matter of time before Prinny takes notice.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
“It would be only proper,” he stated. “A foreign dignitary of rank, settled in London—Carlton House will not remain indifferent to it for long.”
Lady Matlock inclined her head. “Quite so. It reflects well upon the country to extend such courtesies.”
Elizabeth set down her cup. The conversation wearied her.
“They must be very important indeed,” she said.
Jane smiled. “I believe they are. And—I have taken the liberty of inviting them to tea.”
Elizabeth glanced at her. “Have you?”
“Yes,” Jane said, a touch of eagerness in her tone. “It seemed only right, given that they are our neighbors—and that Bramley has already made their acquaintance.”
Lady Matlock looked pleased. “An excellent decision.”
“I hope they will accept,” Jane added.
“I have no doubt they will,” Lord Matlock said. “Men of that sort understand the value of proper introductions.”
Elizabeth inclined her head, though she did not speak further on the subject.
“I am sorry you were unable to attend,” Jane said, her expression comforting. “You would have found it very interesting.”
“I do not doubt it,” Elizabeth replied. She did not add that she had found herself quite sufficiently occupied elsewhere.
“I thought of you often,” Jane said. “Particularly when Miss Halstead spoke of her dance with the count—she said he was most attentive, though not inclined to unnecessary conversation.”
Elizabeth’s lips curved. “A rare quality.”
Jane laughed. “Indeed.”
There was a brief pause before Jane added, “You must meet him.”
Elizabeth did not immediately respond. “I shall do as I am able,” she said at last.
Jane seemed satisfied with that.
At that moment, the door opened, and Bramley entered, his manner brisk but cheerful. He crossed at once to Jane and bent to kiss her cheek.
“My dear,” he said warmly.
Jane smiled at him. “You are late.”
“Only somewhat,” he returned, before greeting his parents with respectful ease. “Mother. Father.”
Lord Matlock nodded. “Bramley.”
“And my dear sister,” he added, inclining his head toward Elizabeth.
“Good morning, Bramley.”
He took his seat, reaching for coffee. “I trust the household survived the night?”
“Just so,” Jane said. “Viola is much improved this morning.”
“I am glad of it,” he replied.
Elizabeth rose slightly from her chair. “I shall take the boys out after their lessons,” she said to Jane. “The air will do them good.”
Jane’s expression dissolved in gratitude. “Thank you, Lizzy. You are always so attentive.”
Elizabeth smiled. “It is no hardship.”
“I shall join them for their tea,” Jane added. “Before they take their rest.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
Bramley glanced between them. “I must dine and then attend a meeting with my solicitor,” he said. “I shall not be present this afternoon, I fear.”
“Business must be attended,” Lady Matlock said approvingly.
“Indeed,” he replied.
Elizabeth inclined her head and withdrew soon after, leaving the others to their conversation.
The boys were eager for their outing, their lessons dispatched with commendable speed once the promise of the park was secured.
Elizabeth gathered them with practiced ease, the nurse and a footman following as they made their way out into the mild morning air.
Bruno stayed home that day. Elizabeth was too tired to manage her beast of a dog.
The walk began pleasantly enough. The boys ran ahead in short bursts, their laughter bright and unrestrained, while Elizabeth followed at a measured pace, calling them back when they strayed too far.
“Aunt Lizzy, look!” one of them cried, pointing toward a passing dog.
“Yes, I see him,” she replied, smiling faintly. “But do not run so far ahead.”
They obeyed—briefly.
It was not until they had reached the edge of the park that Elizabeth realized her omission.
“The ball,” she said, stopping.
The nurse looked at her. “Miss?”
“I have forgotten their ball,” Elizabeth said. “They will be quite disappointed.”
The boys looked up at once. “Our ball?”
“I shall return for it,” she said. “You may wait here with Nurse.”
“I want to come,” Drew said at once.
“No,” Elizabeth replied gently. “You must stay here.”
He looked like he might protest, but she smiled at him. “I shall not be long.”
Reluctantly, he acquiesced.
Elizabeth turned and retraced her steps toward Matlock House.
She moved quickly through the house upon her return, ascending at once to the nursery. The ball lay where it had been left, bright and inviting, and she retrieved it with a small smile.
“They will be pleased,” she murmured.
She had just begun her descent when she heard it.
A commotion from downstairs, voices raised, urgent.
Jane. Elizabeth’s pace quickened at once.
She reached the lower hall to find Jane in a state she had seldom witnessed—her composure entirely undone. She held her son tightly against her, her arms wrapped about him as though she feared he might vanish.
“This is why—this is why we do not run into the road!” Jane was saying, her voice breaking. “You must not—do you understand? You must not!”
The child clung to her, wide-eyed and shaken.
Elizabeth crossed the space in an instant. “Jane—what has happened?”
Jane looked up, her expression pale, her eyes bright with tears. “He—he broke away—he tried to follow you—”
Drew. Elizabeth’s heart dropped.
“He ran into the street,” Jane said, her voice trembling. “There was a carriage—Lizzy, it was so close—”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. “But—he is unharmed?”
“Yes.” Jane clutched the child closer. “Yes—because—”
Her voice failed her.
Elizabeth knelt, her gaze moving over the boy. “Drew,” she said gently. “You frightened us all very much.”
“I wanted to go with you,” he said, his voice small.
Elizabeth reached for his hand. “You must not run away from Nurse. Not ever.”
He nodded, subdued.
Jane drew a breath, attempting to steady herself. “The count—”
Elizabeth stilled.
“The Count of Vendicarsi.” Jane swallowed. “He saw what was happening. He was passing, and he pulled Drew out of the way—”
Elizabeth felt something shift within her.
“He saved him,” Jane said simply.
Silence followed.
Jane pressed a kiss on her son’s hair, her composure slowly returning. “I have invited him—and his brother—to tea this afternoon, instead of next week,” she added, her voice still shaking from her fright. “It is the least we can do.”
Elizabeth rose slowly. “Yes,” she said. “Of course.”