22. Three Sisters in Silk #2
“And Mr. Darcy? What will he do? Will he be inspecting each gentleman who approaches me?” Elizabeth asked as the lace cuffs were smoothed over her arms.
“He may choose to dance as he pleases, but he has strict duties as Lady Sophia’s deputy.”
“Will you be dancing with him?” Elizabeth watched in the mirror as the maid began fastening the long row of hooks at the spine.
Allegra let out a short, exasperated sigh, her head tilting in the glass.
“Heavens, Elizabeth, one would think your trustee was the only man in the ballroom. Fitzwilliam will be occupied enough without you adding his name to every question. Lady Matlock has invited Miss Amelia Elveden as her special guest—she is the daughter of the Marquess of Mainwaring—impeccable lineage, forty thousand pounds, and a face that could launch moderate naval vessels if not quite a thousand ships. Her family does not call on anyone below the rank of baron. Lady Matlock intends to place her near Fitzwilliam at every turn this evening.”
Elizabeth’s hands went still against her petticoats. “If Miss Elveden is so immaculate, why does Lady Matlock not produce her for her own son?”
“Ah.” Allegra’s eyes gleamed. “That is the beauty of Lady Matlock’s calculation.
Miss Elveden is meant for Darcy, who has the fortune but lacks the title.
You are meant for Lord Coke, who has the title but lacks the fortune.
Lady Matlock wishes to capture both prizes—a marquess’s daughter for her nephew, and an heiress for her son.
Two birds, one very determined countess. ”
“Charming.”
“Yes, well, Lady Matlock has decided you are suitable for now, and she will be observing you. You must dance the initial set graciously without seeming overeager.”
“That will not present an issue.” Elizabeth caught Jane’s eye on the bed, eliciting a giggle from her normally serene sister.
“Please, Elizabeth, attend to me.” Allegra sounded exasperated.
“You shall dance the next two sets with non-notable men—a Mr. Langley, perhaps, and one of those weeping Arthurs from the shires. I forget whether he is the one who paints the sunset watercolors or the one with the horse… oh, it does not matter. But Lord Coke will claim the supper waltz, because he must claim it. Lady Matlock outranks Fitzwilliam’s authority.
You must understand exactly what follows. ”
“Oh, perish the thought,” Elizabeth said under her breath.
“The supper waltz is the sixth set. Lord Coke will approach you after the fourth dance concludes, and you will accept graciously. The waltz itself is intimate—his hand at your waist, your bodies closer than any other dance permits. You must appear comfortable but not overly familiar. Pleased but not besotted.”
“Are we allowed to converse during these trials?” Elizabeth asked. “Or is the entire display to be conducted in a stately, funereal silence?”
“Conversation during the waltz is not merely permitted—it is expected,” Allegra said.
“You will be in a close position for the duration, which means approximately three minutes of uninterrupted discourse with Lord Coke’s face six inches from yours.
Silence would suggest either extreme awkwardness or active hostility. Neither serves your purpose.”
“Then I should sincerely hope he hadn’t dined on turnips and leeks,” Elizabeth quipped and considered this. “I could accomplish a lot in three minutes.”
“That is precisely what concerns me.” Allegra fixed her with a look that suggested she had observed Elizabeth’s wit in action and harbored well-founded fears.
“The waltz is intimate, Elizabeth. The conversation you share will be heard by no one else in the room. But your expressions will be visible to everyone—every smile, every raised eyebrow, every flash of that devastating tongue of yours. Lady Matlock will be watching. Half the ton will be watching. If you deliver one of your legendary set-downs to Lord Coke while his hand is at your waist, the entire ballroom will know it from his face before the music ends.”
“And what if I find Lord Coke’s conversation insufficient to sustain three minutes?” she asked.
Jane made a small sound from the bed—not quite a laugh, but near enough.
“Then you ask him about his horses,” Allegra said flatly. “Men can discuss horses indefinitely. You need only nod and appear fascinated while planning your supper menu in your head. It is a skill every woman must master.”
“Assuming I survive this elucidating discourse on horses, shall I retire to the settees for the elderly?”
“Most assuredly not. You shall not escape, Elizabeth.” Allegra was sounding more and more like a governess than a society friend.
“When the waltz concludes, Lord Coke will offer his arm and escort you to the supper room. You will sit beside him at the table. The placement is deliberate—Lady Matlock will have ensured seats nearby, close enough to observe your conversation without appearing to eavesdrop.”
“She eavesdrops while appearing not to eavesdrop. That requires talent.”
“She has thirty years of practice and a complete absence of shame.” Allegra met Elizabeth’s eyes in the glass. “During supper, you must be charming but not forward. Allow Lord Coke to lead the conversation.”
“I am sure all this will go over my head, and I shall indeed be quite backward,” Elizabeth said. “And after supper? I usually go back for the rest of the country dances. The walking about helps my digestion.”
“You shall not!” Allegra blinked in shock.
“A lady of breeding does not rush back to the dance floor. She will sit out the subsequent sets to converse with the gentleman’s mother.
Lady Matlock will expect it. An assessment will be made of your manner, grammar, and your suitability as the future Countess of Matlock.
” Allegra’s voice dropped slightly. “This is the true audition, Elizabeth. The supper dance determines whether you are worthy of her attention. The conversation afterward determines whether you are worthy of her son.”
“And then what? Does no one assess whether her son is worthy of me?” Elizabeth asked.
Allegra’s eyes widened as if the thought of a woman rejecting a worthwhile suitor was anathema.
“Ordinarily, your father would perform that assessment; however, in your situation, I doubt Mr. Bennet would object to a connection to an earldom. However, I must warn you, Elizabeth. If you decide after tonight that you do not wish to receive Coke’s address, you must exercise the utmost caution.
You must keep him from declaring his intentions without insulting him.
Practice absolute serenity. Do not allow him to guess your inclinations by so much as a twitch of your fan. ”
“But why keep him guessing?”
“So he will neither declare his intentions nor will his mother spread word of your unsuitability!” Allegra declared as if such machinations were as plain as the sun at high noon.
“You must not give your inclinations away, one way or the other. If you find him charming and engaging, do not sparkle and dazzle him, or he may be moved to act too fast, and you will lose your reputation. A premature proposal is a catastrophe. The ton will whisper and wonder whether you have been too favorable or allowed him liberties.”
“But if I refuse him, surely they would not believe I was at fault.”
“Oh, but that is even more disastrous. If a man of Coke’s standing is rejected by a country miss with fifteen thousand pounds, the ton will never forgive you.
His mother will make it her life’s work to see you blackballed from every drawing room in London.
A refusal will ruin your reputation forever. ”
“So I must not charm him too much, but I must not offend him either.”
“Precisely. You must practice serenity.” Allegra said the word as though it were a technical term, which perhaps it was.
“You must be pleasant without being encouraging. Attentive without being warm. You must make him feel that you enjoy his company while giving him no indication of your deeper inclinations. He must leave the ball believing he has made progress, but uncertain how much.”
Elizabeth stared at her. “That sounds exhausting. And dishonest.”
“It is both. It is also necessary.” Allegra’s eyes held no apology.
“This is how the game is played, Elizabeth. A woman who shows her hand too early loses her leverage and her reputation. A woman who refuses too quickly gains a reputation for coldness. But a woman who maintains serenity—who keeps her suitors guessing, who neither encourages nor discourages—she remains fresh in the marriage market. She preserves her options. She buys herself time to weigh one gentleman against another without devastating any of them.”
“Why not simply tell Lord Coke I am uncertain? Let him know I need time to consider.”
“Because uncertainty, stated plainly, sounds like rejection dressed in polite clothing. A man like Lord Coke—proud, titled, accustomed to being wanted—will hear ‘I am uncertain’ as ‘I do not want you but am too cowardly to say so.’ His pride will be wounded. He will withdraw, and his withdrawal will be noted, and the whispers will begin.” Allegra shook her head.
“No. You must keep him hoping without letting him hope too much. You must be warm enough that he believes he has a chance, and cool enough that he does not presume to take it.”
“This is absurd.”
“This is London.” Allegra’s smile was thin.
“The marriage market operates on uncertainty, Elizabeth. Certainty ends negotiations. A woman who is certain she wants a man loses her bargaining position. A woman who is certain she does not want him creates an enemy. But a woman who is serenely, pleasantly, charmingly uncertain? She holds all the cards.”
Elizabeth turned back to the mirror, watching her maid fasten the final hooks. The ivory silk gleamed like armor. The gold thread caught the light like a warning.
“And what if I do not wish to play cards at all?”