Page 11

A PERFORMANCE REVIEW

A fter a late supper that seemed to dissatisfy everyone at the table, Elizabeth took Georgiana’s arm and strolled into Himdale House’s smallest parlour.

She could feel Darcy’s impatience. Like him, she would have preferred to return to their own home after the opera, but as the entire evening had occurred only at her own insistence, she had dutifully sat through a meal that ended abruptly when Lady Catherine took a last bite of her pudding, announced she wished to visit Anne in her chambers, and swept from the room.

“Well, tonight was a disaster matched only by the time Davidson’s brother had a boxing match with Beresford at Vauxhall after they discovered they were each paying the same lady for her favours,” Fitzwilliam chuckled, throwing himself into a winged chair with a groan .

Darcy and Lord Matlock sent him matching glares. “A tale that is unsuitable for the ears of any lady,” his father scolded him.

“I imagine none of you will share my thoughts on the matter, but I believe the evening was rather a success. It served its purpose well.” Elizabeth smiled, drawing Georgiana to sit with her on the settee. “And I thank you all for the parts you played in it.”

“Are you referring to your husband’s clumsy court jester act?” Fitzwilliam rejoined, leaning back in his chair.

“If no one has anything enlightening to say, perhaps Elizabeth and I shall bid you good night,” huffed Darcy, stalking to the fireplace and poking at the flames until he gave a small cough induced by the rising smoke.

Georgiana looked from one cousin to the other and back, worry written across her face. “Were the performances poor?”

Elizabeth could tell she was genuinely distressed by the prospect. The dear girl was such a talented musician herself that badly executed music pained her deeply. She might bleed from her ears if she ever heard Mary at the pianoforte. Or, heaven forbid, at the harp .

Elizabeth looked reassuringly at Georgiana and shook her head. “Oh no. Miss Stephens in particular was quite good.”

The colonel slapped his thigh and laughed. “As you well know, I do not refer to a disaster on stage. I refer instead to our aunt’s, um, interpretation of her favourite aria.”

Georgiana looked bewildered. “But our aunt does not sing.”

“As it happens, she does, and remarkably ill too.” The colonel howled a brief demonstration.

Georgiana clapped her hands over her ears whilst Lady Matlock remonstrated her son. “Richard! Be kind.”

“Setting that aside for the moment,” Elizabeth said pointedly to her new cousin, “the goals of the lesson were achieved, were they not? For her part, Lady Catherine successfully guided me through the purchase of a gown and took me out in society. For my part, I imagine the excursion made her feel appreciated and useful, and, I hope, advanced the progress towards a true rapprochement.”

Fitzwilliam scoffed. “It made her a laughingstock.”

Lady Matlock interjected, “I agree with Elizabeth. Other than the, um, singing, what did she do that was so dreadful? Speaking too loudly when commenting upon one’s neighbour’s shortcomings is hardly a crime. And it is certainly not unique to Catherine amongst the ladies of the ton .”

“You defend her?” yelped Fitzwilliam.

“But our family’s honour,” growled Darcy.

Lady Matlock stared them both down as she sipped her sherry implacably. “I do not defend her. I merely situate the singer amongst her choirmates.”

Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, standing impatiently by the hearth, his hand on the mantel in a pose she recalled from a time she wished to forget: his proposal at Hunsford parsonage. Her heart sank. What have I asked of him?

Lady Catherine had confronted her at Longbourn before Darcy had proposed again, then sent him letters full of spiteful invective when they became engaged, and now the dear man was enduring his aunt’s company and humouring her demands for the sake of family harmony.

No—he is doing so because I asked him to do so. He is suffering through it for my sake.

“Your brother needs a reprieve from this very eventful day,” she whispered to Georgiana. “He and I shall both be in better humour tomorrow after a good sleep and a walk. Do come in the afternoon, and I shall supply you with every detail that has not yet been shared.”

Looking pleased, Georgiana nodded. Elizabeth rose and walked over to her husband. Sliding her hand into his, she tugged him towards her and turned to his aunt and uncle.

“I thank you, Lord Matlock, for permitting Lady Catherine to attend the performance this evening and for suffering what I believe may be the most ridiculous opera ever conceived.”

“There are few young women who could have managed so deftly the ‘events’ that you have managed within weeks of marriage. Anyone of sense can see that.”

“Indeed,” said Darcy.

Smiling at Lady Matlock, Elizabeth added, “Your generosity, ingenuity, and patience are much appreciated, as is the levity exhibited by your dear son.”

Fitzwilliam performed a deep, exaggerated bow. “At your service, Mrs Darcy.”

“That is my privilege,” Darcy said, leading her from the room.

Within moments, they were in their carriage for the short journey home. Darcy took her hand and looked at her earnestly, an expression that Elizabeth found especially charming.

“Thank you for all you have tolerated these past weeks, particularly this evening’s catastrophe,” he said. “My aunt’s behaviour is inexcusable.”

“I would not dream of disagreeing with your opinion of your relations.” Elizabeth laughed, then paused for a moment.

“But I wonder, my love, as we departed the opera house, did you notice that several ladies gave her the cut direct? And that each time, she only spoke more loudly and more disagreeably? ”

“Of course they cut her,” Darcy replied crossly. “She is dreadful. She always has been.”

“Perhaps. But she is not so impervious to their judgment as I once thought.”

Darcy directed his gaze out of the window. “Then why does she persist in this behaviour that will surely only bring more disapprobation to herself and our family?”

“That, my darling, is precisely what I would like to find out,” Elizabeth soothed, stroking his arm. His gaze softened, and he turned more fully back to her.

She traced his jaw with her fingers. “Becoming better acquainted with your family has been a pleasure. London has been wonderful, of course, with its many attractions. I believe we may wish to avoid the theatre for the rest of our stay, however.”

He grimaced, making his earnestness all the more endearing. “You know I am sorry about Lady Catherine. I am afraid that she is terribly conscious of her position in life and excessively proud of displaying it, however garish her efforts.”

“You have apologised as often for your aunt as I have for my mother. If each of us must apologise for our relations, we shall never enjoy other conversation.” Pleased to see Darcy’s expression soften, she went on.

“Our engagement and marriage happened so swiftly once we both acknowledged our feelings that Lady Catherine did not have time to make the trouble she may otherwise have made.”

He scoffed. “Thus, her only recourse was thinly veiled rudeness in the form of advice and counsel and lectures and?—”

“And singing,” added Elizabeth. “She is a proficient in her desire to be proficient in all things, and I suppose that a little ambition is not a terrible thing.”

“Ability and hope are different things, my lovely wife.” Darcy pulled her close and kissed her just behind her ear, in that spot that the dear man knew would make her swoon. “Although I harbour both as this evening finally draws to an end.”