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THE LADIES ENQUIRE

E lizabeth and Lady Matlock sipped their tea and discussed the minutiae of the day for a few moments until, informed by Barnes that the gentlemen had, like Lady Catherine, left Himdale House, and that Miss Darcy remained in her rooms, their review of the infamous evening began in earnest.

“I am sorry we could not meet before now to discuss the, um, startling developments from the other night,” offered Elizabeth.

“It was well we did not. My head ached a bit,” said the countess.

“It was all rather shocking, seeing Catherine laughing, nay tittering, and flirting—rusty as it seemed, she recalls how to get back on the horse, as they say.” She winked at Elizabeth.

“I understand she grew a mole overnight and has displayed herself as a light o’ love. ”

The truths in both observations prompted such a mortifying vision that Elizabeth hastily applied herself to choosing a shortbread in order not to erupt in laughter.

Once recovered, she managed a nod. “I believe we should speak to her lady’s maid.

She may be in need of both consolation and instruction. ”

“Pray that Anne did not see her mother done up in such a manner. I already worry what she thinks after Catherine and Lord Cadbury’s display of-of…” Lady Matlock’s voice faded, her hand fluttering and bracelets jingling.

“Of affection and long-repressed emotions?” Elizabeth smiled sweetly, wondering whether anyone in this family understood what it was to yearn for another and keep secret the sentiment—or even love—one might harbour in his heart.

“Yes, well, it appears theirs is an acquaintance of some duration, through the earl.”

“What are his thoughts, if I may ask? He appeared quite pleased with events, but Darcy is, as you know, quite protective, and is somewhat suspicious of Lord Cadbury’s intentions.”

“His intentions?” The countess laughed quietly. “It is Catherine’s I most fear. Heavens, but she was tenacious in her stares and giggles. It was as if she were a girl of sixteen.”

Or Lydia of a year ago , thought Elizabeth. “Lady Catherine appears besotted. Lord Cadbury may be as well. Darcy, however, will not be persuaded until presented with clear, irrefutable evidence of the gentleman’s good character.”

“My dear,” Lady Matlock began, “like my husband, I trust your judgment of others’ character.”

In a day of surprises, this was the most pleasant of all. “Um, I thank you for your confidence.”

“You see, I have been thinking over some of the insights you have had of late into my sister’s character, things the rest of us have been too close, perhaps, to see.

” A crease appeared in the countess’s otherwise flawless complexion.

She set down her teacup and gave Elizabeth an intent look.

“The events of last evening jogged my memory about a trunk in the attics containing items and letters from my husband’s youth.

Shall we see whether we can find it? Its contents might prove enlightening, if your suspicions are correct. ”

Her curiosity piqued, Elizabeth nodded eagerly. Before she could reply, however, Anne entered the room, gripping an orange in one hand. She glanced between them, took a seat beside Elizabeth, and sighed.

“I know you are discussing Mother. Everyone is, from the maids to my cousins. Is she bound for Bedlam? Clearly she has lost her mind.”

“Anne, how can you say such a thing?” said Lady Matlock. “Your mother is merely displaying happiness at being reunited with an old friend.”

Her niece looked at her doubtfully. “Happiness? I have never seen Mama with such an expression. She never smiles, you know,” she added, turning to Elizabeth. “My mother is unkind to you, but it is little different from how she behaves at Rosings with our servants and tenants.”

“Perhaps being in town amidst family has lightened her mood,” said Elizabeth. “It is rather pleasant to see her smile, do you not think?” At the young woman’s nod, she continued, “And seeing her old friend, Lord Cadbury, has?—”

“Has he kissed her?” Anne’s expression pinched as though she smelt something rancid. “I do not like to think of it, but I believe they had an assignation yesterday.”

Elizabeth exchanged a shocked look with Lady Matlock, who said, rather hurriedly, “I do not think we should speculate on the private actions of others.”

Anne lifted the orange, squeezing it tightly in her small fist as she spoke to her aunt.

A trickle of juice dribbled onto her skirts.

“But you wish to go through my uncle’s private papers?

Do you suspect that Lord Cadbury seeks to reignite a long-doused flame with Mama?

Do you wonder whether he is a roué , a fortune hunter set on wooing my mother and stealing my inheritance? ”

She stared earnestly at Elizabeth, as though assuming she—‘the infamous country hoyden’—shared her familiarity with Mrs Radcliffe’s novels. To Anne’s credit, she was correct; Elizabeth had read a number of such books.

“Your aunt and I wish only to know more of Lord Cadbury, to protect Lady Catherine, and you, of course,” Elizabeth replied.

“We know little of Lord Cadbury and only wonder at the affection he and your mother exhibited towards one another. I thought we might find a clue in the attics,” agreed Lady Matlock.

Anne licked a drop of orange juice from her fingers. “I shall join you.”

“May I join you as well?” Georgiana entered the room, a hopeful look on her young face.

“If you promise not to laugh at the frills and laces on ancient gowns,” Elizabeth said, smiling.

Georgiana clapped her hands in anticipation.

“The earl has agreed we may dig about in trunks and boxes in the attic where he keeps the rejectamenta of his youth. He suggested in particular that we look for his diaries and papers from the year seventy-two or thereabouts, which he remembers as being the year Lord Cadbury spent the summer at Matlock. I think that must be correct, as we were introduced the following year. Ah,” she sighed, “the summer of seventy-three.”

Smiling affectionately at her new aunt, Elizabeth turned to Anne, asking, “And your mother? Will she be occupied with errands for much of the day?”

Anne nodded silently and resumed licking orange juice from her fingers.

“Indeed,” confirmed Lady Matlock, clearly straining against her desire to lecture her niece on propriety. “Lady Catherine has a long list of shops to visit.”

Promenading about in smeared powders and a moth-eaten fox. She may at least take pride in her fine new wig. Elizabeth shivered, hoping the ton would take no notice of Lady Catherine—and if they did, might render a kind verdict.

“She is off to the jeweller’s,” Lady Matlock continued. “I believe she said something about an ear trumpet. She also intends to visit the milliner and her favourite wigmaker, as she found her finest wigs no longer fit properly and need some adjustment.”

She looked significantly at Elizabeth, who cleared her throat. “How odd.” So much for her fine new wig.

Accompanied by the housekeeper, two strong footmen, and several maidservants, the four ladies made their way up three storeys to the attics. Elizabeth noted that in spite of the heavy shawl and thick skirts she wore, Anne fairly skipped up the stairs.

Elizabeth saw with pleasure that, unlike the attics at Longbourn, the top storey of Himdale House contained neither dust nor cobwebs, nor were any mice or other rodents gambolling about when the ladies entered.

It did give one more confidence that one might root about without fear of being nibbled upon for a smeared bit of breakfast ham.

The housekeeper led them past storerooms holding the dross of generations of the Earls of Matlock—chairs in the gaudy brocades from the time of Queen Anne, a Chinese lacquer screen that needed repair, a poorly embroidered cushion with the image of what appeared to be an octopus wearing earrings but which could have been intended to be a unicorn with flowing mane and tail.

Elizabeth thought it might rival her own tragic needlework depiction of Pemberley.

Georgiana’s eyes widened with fright as they passed a room where a sheet of canvas covered what looked to be a human corpse.

“Have no fear, ladies,” remarked Lady Matlock, stopping to throw back the fabric.

“It is merely a statue of the god Dionysius enjoying a cluster of grapes whilst reclining on a dining table.” She regarded the nearly naked man thoughtfully.

“The previous Lord Matlock and his friends had longstanding interest in the Classics, you know.” She covered Dionysius back up and gestured about the room.

“They all sent us the ghastliest wedding gifts.”

If Dionysius was any indication, Elizabeth did not doubt it.

At last, the housekeeper ushered them into a room full to bursting with furniture and mementos of the schoolroom.

Lady Matlock sighed in fond remembrance and pointed out the toy soldiers that had belonged to Fitzwilliam as a boy, and the tiny swords and miniature brandy decanter that had belonged to the viscount, saying, “Ahh, their fascinations and joys were so clear from the time they were born.”

“Lady Matlock, these are the items you wished to see. Andrew and Clarence will help you shift things about and fetch chairs for you so you may sit if you wish.” The housekeeper bustled off.

Opening trunks one after the other, the countess rummaged about for some time until at last she straightened in satisfaction. “Here we are. The earl’s papers from around that time. Let us see what we can find! Over here, please.” She motioned to the footmen.

Soon, the ladies sat in a circle with Lord Matlock’s box of papers situated at the centre, reaching into it in turn to pull out this bundle and that sheaf.