A Perilous Match

Chapter 16

T he grand dinner party at Matlock House loomed large in Darcy’s mind as the evening approached. It was to be the first such engagement for him and Elizabeth as a married couple, and the importance of the occasion weighed heavily on him. He was still alight with excitement over his introduction to the House of Lords, which had been one of the grandest moments of his life, outside of his marriage, but now as the evening loomed, he thought of Elizabeth.

They had been married one week and already she was expected to fulfil her role. If at least they had been able to ride in the carriage to his aunt and uncle’s home, alas, he had to remain at Parliament a little while longer.

Now as his uncle’s townhouse came into view, he spotted her carriage and breathed a sigh of relief.

“If you will excuse me, I must greet my wife,” he said and was about to exit when his great uncle spoke up.

“Your wife? Darcy, are you befogged? When did you get married?”

“Uncle, last week. You were in attendance.” Darcy said but Norfolk looked at him puzzled.

“Ah, that was you. That is right. To that lass from Hertford.”

“Hertfordshire,” Darcy corrected but Lord Matlock waved his hand.

“Go, Fitzwilliam, or we will be here all night,” he said with a smile and Darcy hurried to Elizabeth’s carriage. Calling her name, he slowed down.

“Fitzwilliam,” she said. Hearing her speak his name still felt like a rare gift, he was so used to her calling him Mr Darcy or Lord Dorset—which she still did in public. But his name sounded sweet from her lips. “It was such a grand ceremony.”

“Indeed, it was,” he agreed. “I was nervous, very nervous indeed.”

“You did not look it. You looked regal and as though you were always meant to be there.”

He smiled at her, grateful she had thought so.

“I am glad you thought so. Now, this dinner—we do not have to stay long, I expect it shall be frightfully tiresome,” he said, worried about her comfort. “You must tell me if you feel overwhelmed at any point,” he murmured as they entered the carriage.

Elizabeth turned to him, a slight frown creasing her brow. “You need not worry so much. I assure you, I am perfectly capable of navigating a dinner party.”

Darcy hesitated, “I know you are, Elizabeth. But tonight’s gathering will be rather more formidable than most. The guests are not only family but also some of the most influential men in the country. I merely wish to ensure you are at ease.”

Elizabeth’s expression softened, but Darcy detected an undercurrent of tension in her voice as she replied, “I appreciate your concern, but I cannot help but feel as though you doubt my abilities. It is as though you think I might falter, that I might not meet the expectations of such company.”

“That is not my intention,” Darcy began, but he did not want to deepen her impression that he thought her incapable. Their relationship had thawed considerable and he’d even found himself in riveting conversation with her since their night at the theatre. Her views aligned with his on many things and he’d enjoyed those directions. The last thing he wanted was to upset her.

He could only hope that the evening would unfold smoothly, though a gnawing sense of unease lingered in his chest.

The grandeur of Matlock House was in full display as they arrived. The stately manor, aglow with the light of countless candles, stood as a beacon of aristocratic elegance. The guests had already begun to assemble, their carriages lining the driveway, and the air was thick with the anticipation of the evening’s festivities.

Darcy escorted Elizabeth up the steps, his hand lingering on hers as though to convey unspoken support. Yet the earlier exchange hung between them, casting a shadow over their arrival. He could sense the tension between them, a tension he had inadvertently contributed to with his overprotective nature. As they approached the grand salon, Darcy steeled himself for the evening ahead, determined to make the experience as pleasant as possible for Elizabeth.

Inside, the salon was a glittering scene of wealth and power. The walls, adorned with rich tapestries and paintings of noble ancestors, bore witness to the illustrious history of the Matlock family. Darcy’s eyes swept the room, noting the presence of influential figures whose approval he had once taken for granted but now weighed more heavily upon him with Elizabeth at his side.

Lord and Lady Matlock greeted them with the practiced ease of seasoned hosts, their smiles warm yet measured. Darcy nodded politely, though his attention was focused on Elizabeth, ever worried that she was comfortable.

“Fitzwilliam and Lady Dorset, we are delighted to have you with us,” Lady Matlock said to Elizabeth, her tone gracious but with a hint of something more. Darcy knew his aunt well enough to understand she too was worried about Elizabeth. “You must meet some of our other guests—many of them are most eager to make your acquaintance.”

Darcy watched as Elizabeth inclined her head in acknowledgment, her gaze sweeping the room. He observed her closely as Lady Matlock led her through the throng, introducing her to a procession of distinguished guests. Darcy noted the measured politeness of their interactions, the subtle scrutiny from those who were meeting Elizabeth for the first time. He felt a surge of protectiveness, wishing he could shield her from the judgemental eyes of the elite.

When they reached Earl Fitzwilliam, a distant cousin, Darcy’s tension eased slightly. He respected the Earl and knew him to be fair-minded. The Earl’s stern countenance softened as he addressed Elizabeth.

“Lady Dorset, it is a pleasure,” he said with a bow. “I have heard much of you from my cousin, and I must say, he speaks of you with the highest regard. I was very sorry to miss your nuptials but I only just returned from Scotland.”

Darcy could not help but glance at Elizabeth, catching the polite smile she offered in return. “Thank you, my lord. It is an honour to meet you. You must join us for dinner at Darcy House soon.”

“I would be delighted,” he replied and nodded at Darcy appreciatively, as though confirming Darcy’s choice of wife had been a good one.

As the evening progressed, Darcy remained close to Elizabeth, though he was careful not to hover. He knew how much she valued her independence and did not wish to stifle her. Still, he could not shake the concern that gnawed at him. He watched as she engaged with Fitzwilliam Lamb, the future Lord Melbourne, noting how her expression alternated between interest and wariness as Lady Caroline Lamb flitted about the room with an energy that reminded Darcy all too vividly of Lydia Bennet. He felt a pang of unease, hoping the comparison was not lost on Elizabeth.

Nearby, Darcy observed Lord Byron in animated discussion with a small group. Darcy had never cared for the poet’s brooding demeanour, and he was relieved when Elizabeth did not engage him in conversation. Lord Byron was a handsome man who easily captivated women’s attention and he had to admit he’d worried about Elizabeth being drawn into his circle. It was one thing to indulge in his literary pursuits, as both he and Elizabeth did, but another to keep his company.

Such envy was of course silly, as she had made it clear how she felt about him but he could not help himself.

When the time came for dinner, Darcy ensured Elizabeth was seated beside him, her presence a comfort amidst the weighty conversation that unfolded around them. The table was a spectacle of culinary excess, the finest dishes laid out with ostentatious splendour. Yet, despite the outward grandeur, Darcy could sense Elizabeth’s unease. He knew that she felt the weight of expectation, not only from him but from the assembled company, many of whom regarded her with the cool reserve that came with old blood and entrenched privilege.

It was a relief they were seated across from Earl Fitzwilliam, who made efforts to engage Elizabeth in light conversation, along with Lady Matlock, who was at Elizabeth’s other side.

Darcy soon found himself drawn into a discussion about politics. As the conversation turned to the pressing issues of the day, Darcy felt Elizabeth’s attention on him. He was keenly aware of her presence, her interest in his views. The topic of Catholic emancipation arose, and Darcy addressed it with his usual measured consideration, aware of the potential ramifications of his words.

“I do hope to address Catholic emancipation this year,” Earl Fitzwilliam said then. “Norfolk will be on my side, I know it. And I hope you too.”

“Of course, my Lord. It is an issue of great import, and one that cannot be approached lightly,” Darcy said in response to the Earl’s enquiry. “While I understand the fears of those who see such measures as a threat to the established order, I believe it is our duty to consider the broader implications for the stability and unity of the realm.”

Earl Grey, a towering figure in the Whig party, nodded in agreement, though Darcy sensed the challenge in his gaze. The discussion deepened, with Darcy holding his own among the fierier rhetoric of others. He spoke of the necessity of balancing tradition with progress, of the duty of the aristocracy to lead by example and to enact changes that would benefit the nation as a whole.

As he spoke, Darcy could feel Elizabeth’s gaze upon him. He knew her opinions on the matter well, as they had discussed it at home but he also knew that she would not voice her thoughts in such a setting. Glanced at her briefly, catching the admiration in her eyes, which filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction. Yet, even as he marvelled at the connection between them, he could not ignore the lingering tension from their earlier disagreement. He wished he could reach across the table, take her hand, and assure her that his concern for her was rooted in his care for her, not doubt.

“Elizabeth,” he said, his voice low and intimate despite the surroundings, “are you enjoying yourself?”

Elizabeth smiled, but Darcy could see the strain behind it. “I am. It is a remarkable experience.”

“Indeed,” he said, his hand finding hers under the table. “And you are remarkable.”

The simple words seemed to ease some of the tension in Elizabeth’s expression, though Darcy knew the unease had not entirely dissipated. He felt a pang of guilt, wishing he could do more to shield her from the judgements of others.

As the dinner ended and the guests began to disperse to the drawing rooms, Darcy guided Elizabeth through the throng, his hand resting lightly at her back. They exchanged pleasantries with various guests, Darcy’s manner relaxed yet attentive to her every move. He sensed the evening had been a trial for her, and he was determined to help her navigate it with as much grace as possible.

It was as they were leaving that they encountered Phillip once more, who had been deep in conversation with Earl Fitzwilliam. He approached them with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“Lady Dorset, I hope the evening has not been too overwhelming,” he said, his tone polite yet laced with a subtle condescension.

Darcy was grateful for his cousin’s care of Elizabeth and flashed a smile. “Not at all, Mr Darcy. It has been most enlightening.” Darcy noted the edge in Elizabeth’s tone, though he was unsure where it came from as she had no reason to feel weary of Phillip. He had been unhappy with Darcy’s choice but since then, they’d made their peace and he’d been exceedingly kind and considerate of her.

Phillip’s gaze flickered briefly to Darcy before returning to her. “I am glad to hear it. I trust you will soon become quite accustomed to such gatherings.”

Elizabeth smiled, though Darcy could sense the underlying tension between the two men. “I am sure I shall.”

“And you? How are you? Ready to take on the highway robbers of London? Or should I say the alleyway robbers?” Phillip said with a chuckle.

Elizabeth frowned and Darcy shook his head. Elizabeth was as yet unaware of what had happened that evening in the alley as he had not wanted to ruin their wedding the next day.

“Alleyway robbers?”

“Did he not tell you? Our dear Lord Dorset was almost robbed blind if not for Colonel Fitzwilliam’s interference. Goodness, I was unaware you did not know. Do not be alarmed, all is well now,” Phillip said looking slightly embarrassed as he noted his error. “I shall bid you a good night.”

As they took their leave, Darcy felt Elizabeth’s hand on his arm and noted she held on tighter than before.

“You were attacked?” she asked, her face pale.

“Hardly. A man attempted to rob me but we were able to fight him off. It is what comes with living in town, I am afraid,” he said but Elizabeth looked alarmed.

“You could have been hurt,” she said, her words trembling as they came out.

“I could but I was not. Please forgive me for not telling you but I did not want to cast a shadow over our wedding. There is no need for alarm. Now, shall we go home?”