Chapter Twenty Seven
Darcy hoped to have word from his sister and the countess the next morning; better still, they arrived in time for a very elegant luncheon.
They had often broken their fast so late at Richmond Cove as to make tea sufficient refreshment until supper, but today’s sumptuous midday repast was held as a mark of welcome and respect to the Countess of Matlock.
“A joke between Georgie and me, William,” Lady Matlock said with a dismissive wave as she and Georgiana were shown into the manor.
“We were idle enough in London, one day much the same as the next, and so we were perfectly ready to prepare for immediate departure, nearly as quickly as sending a proper acceptance of your invitation. Of course, I sent word ahead to Lady Sophia and Lady Dorothea, for I would not catch them unawares. Richard obtained their permission, but I would not have them think that I raised my children to invite people to other people’s houses! ”
Darcy recalled Elizabeth once saying the same to Miss Lydia, when the girl boldly told Bingley that he must invite Wickham to his ball.
He saw her smile to herself as if she was thinking of the same moment.
She had been mortified, then, he was sure of it – his only thought at the time was that he did not want that useless scoundrel George Wickham anywhere near Elizabeth.
He knew it was a good sign that Elizabeth could smile at such a moment, but he could not – he knew the countess too well.
His aunt was formidable and clever, in the same way that Rebecca was.
Darcy braced himself for her antics, hoping that when they inevitably mortified him, it would at least encourage Elizabeth to see that he could not reasonably harbor any lingering contempt for her own relations.
Rebecca stepped forward to claim the honor of presenting her new friend to Lady Matlock. “Mamma, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. Lizzy, this is my mother – you need not allow her to badger you into saying you mistook her for my sister.”
“Now, child, let her speak for herself!” Lady Matlock gave Elizabeth a beatific smile, all the while inspecting the younger woman thoroughly. Elizabeth gave a proper curtsey and a warm smile, looking as if she were waiting for the countess to pass judgement on her.
“You look very like my dear Rebecca, if her features had not been sharpened by so many years of witchery and mischief! But I can see why she likes you, for there is a sparkle of it in your eyes – you are not afraid to laugh at your betters, a sentiment of which I heartily approve. And yet, your sister is said to be the pretty one! Well, where is she?”
Elizabeth presented Miss Bennet, and the countess gave Elizabeth’s arm an affectionate pat.
“Well, she is a beauty – you poor thing! If I had given Rebecca such a sister, I daresay she would have drowned her in the Thames a dozen years ago. Well met, Miss Bennet – and well met, Miss Bennet’s very large beau.
” Lady Matlock gaped up at Captain Wentworth, nodding her approval as Miss Bennet properly introduced him.
Darcy waited with rising impatience for the countess to allow Elizabeth to speak with Georgiana, who shyly hung back. Miss Bingley acknowledged her eagerly, and Darcy knew the countess would make her pay for the interruption. “Dear Georgiana! I had no idea you were expected at Richmond Cove.”
“And I did not know that you had been invited here, Miss Brinkley.” The countess winked at her son, who must have undoubtedly told her of Miss Bingley’s tantrum, demanding to be included.
“But I see you have brought your father; very prudent, my dear, after so many unsuccessful seasons in London society.”
Miss Bingley flinched. “This is my betrothed, your ladyship, Sir Walter Elliot of Kellynch Hall.”
“Well! You amaze me, my dear.” The countess coldly turned away from Miss Bingley, looking rather proud of herself when Elizabeth could barely keep her composure. Darcy supposed that Richard had told his mother everything, or at least far too much.
The countess continued making the rounds, presenting her timid niece to every new acquaintance, but dominating every conversation. Lady Matlock knew Mrs. Jennings already and greeted her as an old friend. “Well met, you old cat! And who is your charming companion?”
“Miss Marianne Dashwood has recently been staying with me in London. Her mother is a cousin of Sir John Middleton, who has given the Dashwood ladies Barton Cottage in Devonshire.”
“And naturally you comprehended that Devonshire is far too dreary for such a lovely creature. Hold your chin up a little higher, Miss Dashwood – yes, exquisite. But how has our old friend not found you a beau in London? Well, if she has so little success here, you must come to me in Grosvenor Square.”
Miss Dashwood smiled brightly at the countess. “I thank your ladyship for such kindness, though I doubt that I shall – that is – well, in a few years I may bring my youngest sister to you, for she is twice as pretty as me, though she runs positively wild.”
Elizabeth bit her lip for a moment, but Darcy watched as she gave in to her impudent impulse. “I have one of those, too, your ladyship, whom I should happily add to the bargain.” She emphasized the last word, grinning first at Rebecca, and then Darcy.
Lady Matlock was delighted. “Excellent! How perfectly charming!”
Darcy was pleased; it seemed Elizabeth’s fears for her youngest sister had eased enough that she might make such jests.
He tried to inch closer to her, trailing beside his sister, who appeared content to observe the countess as if studying to be her next protege.
To his continued irritation, there were always two or three ladies between him and Elizabeth, no matter how he maneuvered.
She met his eye and seemed to comprehend his struggle – then gave him a bold wink.
They were led into the old Tudor Hall to take their luncheon.
Darcy escorted his sister and took a seat at her side, across the table from their aunt.
Despite his efforts to converse with Georgiana throughout the meal, she was more interested in watching the merry banter between the countess and Elizabeth.
“I wonder if your ladyship’s opinion will alter when I confess that I have been playing matchmaker for your extremely recalcitrant daughter.”
“Lord, then you must be quite fearless! But I have been informed already of your tremendous success, and so I must doff my proverbial cap to you. My daughter is a very wicked girl – I raised her to be my own creature, you see – and I am sorry to say she has never found her equal for meddling outside of the family. Well done to you, Miss Elizabeth. But my information is not complete, for Richard did not indicate whom the lucky madman is.”
Georgiana brightened with evident curiosity; Darcy knew not what manner of reaction to expect. Elizabeth was indeed fearless, and Rebecca eyed her with a look of sardonic pride. “Miss Brinkley’s brother, Mr. Charles Bingley!”
“Ha! Excellent. I often forget he is related to that awful orange woman! My, you are an intrepid young lady, Miss Elizabeth. Well done, indeed.”
Darcy let out a little sigh of relief as he watched Elizabeth visibly relax at the countess’s side. Georgiana gasped and looked over at Darcy with glee. “Is it true? Finally! I thought they should never see sense.”
He laughed softly. “Did everyone see it but me?”
Georgiana knit her brows. “You have been vastly preoccupied, in recent months. At one point, I even worried you did suspect there was something between them and… I feared you might envy Mr. Bingley.”
He chuckled again. “Only for his uncanny ability to please and be pleased so easily.” He wished to say more, but Georgiana meekly shushed him so that she could continue to listen to their aunt across the table.
The countess concluded a lengthy accounting of ways she might make Bingley squirm just a little – to which Elizabeth offered a few suggestions of her own.
But now Lady Matlock turned the tables on her.
“And which of my kin does Rebecca have in mind for you, Miss Elizabeth? My son, or my nephew? Before you deny it, I know my daughter well, and I shall not need to give you the business, as honor demands I do Mr. Bingley.”
Rebecca screwed up her face. “And why is that, Mamma?”
The countess gave her daughter an imperious look. “Because he is a man.”
Seated nearby, Lady Sophia nodded emphatically. “You must always give them a little trouble in the beginning, or later they shall expect everything to always be easy.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips together, and she gave Darcy a knowing look.
He offered her one of challenge in return, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Pray, your ladyship must advise me on what manner of devilry is most effective. The first time I ever refused a man, he informed me that I had only heightened his love by suspense.”
Darcy gaped at her, and then he entered the fray in earnest. “An interesting notion, Miss Elizabeth. Unexpected refusals may often be supposed to have such an effect on gentlemen unable to see sense.”
“In other words, all gentlemen,” the countess interjected.
“If you wish to really rile some poor fellow, you might try happening upon him when he is travelling abroad, and show mystifying clemency after nearly murdering him, leaving him bewildered by the first of many mercies and mishaps.”
“Murder, sir! I confess I had something more drastic in mind, but I shall allow you to explain yourself.”
Darcy chuckled. “I recognized your slippers peeking out from below your cloak, Miss Elizabeth.”
Lady Rebecca explained the game of phantoms to her mother, and while the countess was distracted, Darcy leaned forward to whisper to Elizabeth. “You might try a more subtle assault, Miss Elizabeth, by working some enchantment upon this poor fellow's entire family.”