A Perilous Match

Chapter 6

W hat could he mean by such an invitation? That thought had been in the forefront of her mind for the past two days. She stared into the mirror watching her aunt’s maid arrange her hair into pretty looped ringlets. Why would he encourage her association with his sister now?

She was interrupted in her thoughts by the appearance of her aunt, who had slipped into the room she shared with Jane in Gracechurch Street and tossed the latest edition of the Morning Post upon the dressing table.

“You have been very sly, Lizzy,” said Aunt Gardiner.

Elizabeth retrieved the paper to find a society entry circled by a graphite pencil. She read aloud, softly, then with rising incredulity, “Long one of the most sought-after bachelors in the kingdom, his newly-minted Lordship was lately seen squiring a smiling young lady about the shores of our Serpentine. His Lordship, long known for his exacting taste and standards, appeared very well pleased with his company as were two important—though often scandalous—members of his family. This mysterious miss is an unknown, though if she has managed to capture the interest, if not the heart, of Lord D—, she cannot long remain in the shadows of Cheapside.”

“As I said, Lizzy, you have been very sly.”

“I have done no such thing, and I cannot understand why you are putting such stock in the gossip notices of the Post when you have never done so in the past . ”

“I never had such a vested interest in the comings and goings of the Haut-Ton.”

“I do not see why that should change now.”

“Do you not?” asked Aunt Gardiner pointedly. “It is very evident that you have caught the interest of the gossip mill of the Ton along with that of Lord Dorset.”

Elizabeth swallowed nervously. “They are only interested in his Lordship because he has so recently been elevated. It will, no doubt, pass.”

“And you cannot really believe that, Lizzy,” said Jane. “Lord Dorset is single, young, and very handsome.”

“And very wealthy,” Aunt Gardiner added.

“Must every single man in possession of a fortune be in want of a wife?” Elizabeth quipped.

“You may joke, Lizzy, but the wider interest in his Lordship’s affairs will treat every overture of friendship as evidence of attachment.”

“Jane, I do not deny that Lord Dorset is an object of interest throughout the drawing rooms of Mayfair.”

“Of course, where his Lordship’s interest lies, there will lie the interest of the gossipmongers,” said Aunt Gardiner. “Perhaps that may be you, Elizabeth.”

“I hardly think that one walk into Hyde Park merits all this anxiety.”

Aunt Gardiner’s look was stern. “One walk and now a dinner invitation to meet his sister.”

“And when the family is still in mourning. Surely you must see the significance of his attentions, Lizzy. You cannot still think that he dislikes you,” said Jane.

Elizabeth sighed. “No,” she conceded, but would explain no further.

“I believe that you have concealed much about the goings-on in Kent,” her sister said.

“Lord Dorset and I met frequently at Rosings,” Elizabeth said, “which I have never concealed.”

“Perhaps you have not concealed the facts of your prior association with the marquess,” Aunt Gardiner said, “but I fear that you have concealed the nature of your meetings.”

Elizabeth frowned. “You make it sound quite illicit, which, I assure you, it was not.”

“No indeed,” Jane agreed. “However, you cannot deny that Lord Dorset seems particularly invested in your good opinion, Lizzy.”

She did not answer. Any response would lend credence to an intimacy that she could not and did not wish to claim. Her own confusion over Mr Darcy’s motives made her reticent to say anything.

“I do believe that Lord Dorset admires you, Lizzy,” said Aunt Gardiner. “It was clear to your uncle as well, and I would warn you to be careful. He is a peer and you are only a gentleman’s daughter. I fear that his family would not welcome his interest in you.”

Elizabeth laughed nervously. “I assure you, Aunt, that Lord Dorset has no intention of making any offer to me.”

Not now, she thought. No man would propose to the same woman twice after being so soundly rejected. Moreover, she had no desire for or expectation of an offer. Mr Darcy had proven himself to be more agreeable than she had given him credit and far less resentful than she could have supposed, but he was still proud. He had apologised for his interference in Jane and Mr Bingley’s courtship, but he had never apologised for his insults towards her family, and his characterisation of their faults must only seem plainer and truer now that his notoriety and consequence was greater. There was also the matter of Mr Wickham.

However, neither Jane nor their aunt knew anything about the particulars of their quarrel, so she swallowed the retort upon her tongue when they looked at her disbelievingly.

Elizabeth, though, had no more room or patience for whatever might be their suppositions and drew their conversation to safer avenues, which they graciously allowed.

***

As the time drew near for their departure, every minute increased her discomposure. She could think of nothing but her introduction to Miss Darcy even as she tried to drive any motives for such an introduction from her mind. She dreaded lest any partiality of the brother should have said too much in her favour, and felt unable to equal the sketch he might have made.

Before she was quite ready, their small party was delivered to Darcy House. The house was suitably grand but not uselessly fine; its understated elegance was beautiful and said much for the taste of its owner. Elizabeth did not miss her relatives’ subtle expressions of awe and she might have felt the same were her nerves not so alive.

Mr Darcy met them in the drawing room, standing upon her entrance. A young woman remained sitting on a sofa to his right. Elizabeth was both relieved and disappointed for the small party. Perhaps the lively presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam would have calmed something of her agitation, but she soon learned that the colonel along with another cousin would join them shortly for dinner. For now, all eyes and expectations seemed to rest upon Mr Darcy and herself. The formidable introduction was now to take place just as Elizabeth’s ability to please fled, leaving her wrong-footed and unsure. She wanted to make a good impression, but knew not how nor why that should be her wish.

Miss Darcy was beautiful, though less so than her brother, and when Mr Darcy stepped forward to welcome them, his sister followed.

With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Mr Wickham had described Miss Darcy as exceedingly proud and ‘grown too much like her brother’, but only a few minutes’ observation taught Elizabeth that the young girl was only exceedingly shy. She looked at her brother often for guidance, whose gentle attentiveness melted something of Elizabeth’s reserve. She recalled Darcy’s caution about Mr Wickham, and this obvious falsehood regarding Miss Darcy made her more willing to believe him.

“I am very glad to have finally met you, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Darcy began once all the introductions were complete, “for I have heard so much about you.”

“And I about you,” said Elizabeth, taking a seat near Miss Darcy. “I have heard, for instance, that you are a most accomplished musician.”

Miss Darcy flushed and would not meet her eyes. “My brother says that you play and sing very well.”

Elizabeth looked instinctively towards Mr Darcy who was chatting amiably with her aunt and uncle. He looked very pleased and comfortable with his circumstances. “Lord Dorset has surely exaggerated my ability—no doubt for some mischievous reason of his own.”

“Oh no, my brother always tells the absolute truth!”

“My sister is only exceedingly modest, Miss Darcy,” Jane said, joining their têtê-à-tête. “She never boasts of her own abilities and is never comfortable when others do it for her even when such praise is warranted.”

“And my sister is only too kind. She only sees excellence where mediocrity resides.”

Miss Darcy smiled at their gentle teasing. “You make me quite envious. I have no sisters at all.”

“Then you shall have to borrow one of ours,” declared Elizabeth. “We are five in total and I am quite willing to lend one out on most days.”

Their hostess’s eyes widened though she laughed.

“You may suppose her to be joking, Miss Darcy, but Elizabeth is in earnest.”

“Indeed, I am. I would propose a trade should you have another brother.”

“I have only the one brother,” Miss Darcy lamented, “and I am quite unwilling to give him up.”

Elizabeth was charmed by this sweet devotion and the hint of wit beneath Miss Darcy’s shyness.

***

Dinner awaited only the arrival of their final two guests, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Phillip Darcy. They retired to the smaller, though not less elegant, dining room suited for family parties. Elizabeth was mildly disappointed to find herself placed so far from Mr Darcy, and next to his sister where, she could only suppose, he meant to promote a possible friendship between the two women. To her right was the Darcys’ cousin Phillip, while Colonel Fitzwilliam was across from her and next to Jane. He seemed very content with his situation, and quickly monopolised Jane’s smiles and blushes. Elizabeth had never seen the colonel so eager to please; she would have to warn Jane, though she did not think that her sister’s heart was in much danger as long as Charles Bingley remained in the picture.

In any case, Elizabeth had no opportunity of conversation with Mr Darcy, and after their joint citation in the Morning Post , she longed to discover his motives for continuing their acquaintance. He was a mystery she meant to puzzle out.

His cousin Phillip Darcy was another matter. Mr Phillip Darcy, MP was a curious mixture of hauteur and flirtatiousness, and his manner showed that he enjoyed feminine company and that he was used to making himself agreeable and charming to ladies. It was a different charm that Mr Bingley or even the more worldly Colonel Fitzwilliam exhibited—for they, at least, were sincere in their attentions.

Phillip Darcy was too clever by half. It annoyed Elizabeth that only she appeared to see it. Aunt Gardiner nearly swooned after him, and if Jane were not so occupied with the colonel, she might have been similarly affected. But then, Jane always did like to see the best of people.

“Dear Georgie tells me that you withstood many weeks under the scrutiny of the Gorgon of Kent,” Phillip said, as he motioned the footman for more wine.

Miss Darcy looked as though she wanted to laugh but felt that she should not. “My cousin Phillip has never been a favourite of Aunt Catherine.”

“That honour belongs entirely to Fitzwilliam,” Phillip said. “I am only happy I need not call her aunt.”

“What an ungenerous thing to say,” Miss Darcy scolded lightly, as though this was a frequent scold between them, and she looked pointedly at her cousin.

Phillip only shrugged. “I beg you to forgive my candour, Miss Elizabeth. I am too used to speaking as I find.”

“You are far too used to my uncle’s way,” said Miss Darcy.

“The late Marquess,” Phillip explained, “was fond of using his wealth and influence to do and speak as he liked without regard to anyone’s offence.”

“A novel approach to civility to be sure,” Elizabeth said. She did not know how to respond to such disclosures amongst the family when she was not their intimate.

Phillip smirked. “I do not believe that my uncle was very much concerned with civility, Miss Elizabeth. He could afford to give offence wherever he went.”

At Elizabeth’s expression of mild disapproval, he amended his statement, “Oh do not suppose that I am in any way criticising my uncle, God rest his soul. I have often admired such artless candour.”

“You seek to emulate your uncle, then?”

He laughed, “Touché, my dear Miss Elizabeth.”

“Phillip learned well at his knee then,” said Miss Darcy. “He was my uncle’s favourite.”

“Well, I must be someone’s,” Phillip replied, taking up his wine glass again.

To this, Miss Darcy had nothing to say, so he turned his attention to Elizabeth once again.

“I was astonished that my cousins intended to entertain this evening, Miss Elizabeth,” Phillip said. “Since we are still in heavy mourning, it is not expected, and when given a plausible excuse for avoiding unwanted social obligations, Fitzwilliam would usually seize upon the opportunity.”

Georgiana looked as though she would protest this picture of her brother, but Elizabeth replied, “You are severe upon your cousin.” Though not of a disposition overflowing with sociability, Mr Darcy was not the hermit his cousin’s words implied.

“I simply speak the truth,” he said. “Fitzwilliam is not fond of society unless they be excellent company.”

“If you mean that the Misses Bennet are excellent company, I cannot argue nor wonder at Fitzwilliam’s inclination for entertaining,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. He seemed pleased by the blush spreading over Jane’s cheeks.

“I do congratulate you for your conquests, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Phillip said, raising his glass in a salute.

“I would thank you, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, feeling strange to address anyone else by that appellation, “but I deserve no such praise.”

“Do you not?” Phillip speculated. “The ladies of Hertfordshire have certainly made an impression upon my cousin and my friend here.”

“I think it hard that men and women cannot be friends without inviting talk of conquests.”

“I agree with my sister,” Jane said.

“Interesting,” the gentleman replied with an arched brow.

Elizabeth risked glancing down the table towards Mr Darcy, who appeared to have caught the tenor of their discussion. He gave her a soft, curious smile that she felt down to her toes and would not look away, even when her aunt and uncle’s attention followed his object. She coloured. Had Mr Darcy heard her mild defence of him?

She started at the sound of Phillip’s smirking tone.

“Surely Lord Dorset is not so interesting that you would neglect your dinner companions, Miss Elizabeth?”

She would not allow this Mr Darcy to discompose her, and said through gritted teeth, “I neglect no one, sir.”

“Indeed,” Miss Darcy said. “You should not tease her so, Phillip. It is hardly gentlemanly.”

Evidently, there was someone that Miss Darcy was not shy of, and her cousin seemed to delight in it. The colonel sent him a hard stare of warning.

***

Mr Darcy walked them out to hand the ladies into their carriage at the end of the evening. The air was a little cool and Elizabeth tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The streetlamps were more numerous and spread out evenly, casting a warm glow upon the street. There were many carriages still out, the clip clop of horses’ hooves echoing on the pavement.

It somehow felt… intimate.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Darcy said, walking with her to the curb, his eyes lingering for a moment upon her face. The muted streetlight drew shadows across his features, highlighting his strong jawline and the curve of his eyes, which seemed softer in the evening air. He looked quite beautiful.

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr Darcy,” she replied and then flushed for her faux pas. “I am sorry. I still think of you as Mr Darcy rather than Lord Dorset. It is difficult to think of you differently.”

His smile was soft but guarded. “I hope not too difficult.” His voice was laced with such meaning that her breath caught.

There was so much they could not say before others. Her aunt and uncle had given them some privacy for a farewell, but a few steps did not conceal their words.

“No,” she murmured. “In some ways, it is not difficult at all, my lord . ”

His smile widened and she found herself answering it shyly.

“That is all I should wish for this night, Miss Elizabeth.” He took her hand and kissed it, which she felt the spark of through her kid gloves.

Understandably flustered by this new gesture from him, she said with some confusion, “Miss Darcy is a dear girl, my lord. I- I should like to know her better.”

“Then you shall, Miss Elizabeth,” he said quietly.

He turned to hand Jane into the carriage first, and all the while, Elizabeth ruminated on the fact that they had not truly spoken all evening. She was no nearer understanding him than she had been before. However, when he took her hand again to assist her into the carriage, she was struck by the notion that he might have loved her enough to still wish for her good opinion now when by all reason there could be nothing between them.

She did not for a moment believe that she had the power to bring on a renewal of his addresses. He was generous enough not to hold their quarrel against her and to wish her well, but he was a lord and she but a gentlewoman who had spurned him once before. She did not even wish for the possibility, but she felt a real interest in his welfare and hoped that however much she may have injured him, he would not long suffer the disappointment.

She leaned forward to watch him from the window, briefly standing for a moment under the streetlamp before turning and walking slowly back to his house.