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“You are beautiful,” the lady remarked, studying her carefully. “Not quite as handsome as your elder sister, perhaps, but you look very well indeed.”

Elizabeth could not help a smile at these words, as she knew she looked dreadful with the bruise on her face. “Thank you, Lady Matlock. That is very kind of you.”

Lady Matlock chuckled and said, “At the moment, of course, you do not look particularly well, but I met your mother and sisters a few minutes ago, and you are all of you handsome.”

“Jane is the beauty of the family,” Elizabeth said.

“ I do not think so,” Darcy said, stroking her hand with one thumb.

“I am very well satisfied with my looks,” Elizabeth said calmly, gazing at Darcy’s aunt.

The lady returned the gaze with a tilted head and narrowed eyes and then nodded briskly. “I am sorry about your ordeal at the hands of George Wickham, Miss Elizabeth, but I am confident that the gentlemen will deal with him and Lady Catherine, with their usual skill. I will be blunt and tell you that you are not what any of us expected in a bride for my nephew, and my purpose here is to mitigate scandal as much as possible. ”

Elizabeth felt Darcy’s hand tense in her own, and she turned a reassuring smile on him, and his angry expression relaxed.

“Lady Matlock,” she said, “I am well aware that our engagement is a peculiar one given that Fitzwilliam is the nephew of an earl and master of a great estate, while I am but the penniless daughter of a country gentleman. Having admitted that, I would argue that marriage is more than money and connections, and Fitzwilliam and I have the capability of making one another very happy.”

Her noble guest sighed and said, “Happiness is not generally a priority for those of our order, Miss Elizabeth.”

“I am well aware,” Elizabeth returned, “but perhaps such matters should be of greater concern. After all, would not England herself be better served if the Prince Regent genuinely cared for his wife?”

She knew this was a bold statement, but she did not care. The Regent had been forced into marriage with his first cousin, Caroline of Brunswick, whom he had previously never met, and the pair had more or less loathed one another on first sight. Their marriage had produced but one child, the Princess Charlotte of Wales, and if something were to happen to the princess, England would face a serious succession crisis .

“Touché, Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Matlock said with a respectful nod. “You are an unusual young lady, and I see why Darcy is fascinated by you. Very well, let us speak of the future, and how best to mitigate the rumors which are already sweeping throughout London regarding your character.”

Elizabeth frowned heavily, which hurt her face, and forced herself to relax. “There are rumors?”

“Yes, about some immorality at a ball?” Lady Matlock said, turning her gaze on her nephew.

Darcy sighed, looked at Elizabeth, and then back at his aunt. “There was no immorality, but I trust you enough to tell you the entire story. Elizabeth and I were locked in the library together for a brief time during the ball.”

“What?”

“Yes,” Darcy said with a nod, and then he proceeded to explain Wickham’s actions in locking the door and the subsequent aftermath.

“You climbed out a window?” Lady Matlock said, peering at Elizabeth in amazement. “Surely that was very dangerous?”

“I knew the trellis was there and that I was not likely to fall,” Elizabeth said stoutly .

“But Darcy did offer to marry you.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted and turned a wry look on her love. “At the time, I despised Fitzwilliam, and the thought of a forced marriage was entirely repugnant to me.”

“Even though you are penniless and will lose your home when your father dies?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, lifting her chin. “My parents are not well matched, you see, and I have observed the pain inherent in an unequal marriage. My father is very intelligent and rather eccentric, and my mother is kind, nervous, vulgar, and not very clever. I have long been determined that I would marry for respect and love.”

“Is respect more important to you than love, then?” the countess asked.

Elizabeth bit her lip thoughtfully and said, “They are both important, but the Word of God says that a woman must respect her husband. I am not boasting when I say that I think more quickly than many ladies, and I would be miserable married to a man who cannot keep up with me intellectually. Perhaps that is selfish of me, to prefer a single life to the intimacy of marriage to a man I do not esteem, but I cannot regret it.”

Lady Matlock’s expression of doubt gave way to gravity, and then she said, “In that case, you are even more extraordinary than I imagined. Very well, I will do everything in my power to introduce you and your older sister, and perhaps Miss Mary to society, though Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia are too young. With the power of the Matlocks at your back, I am confident that we can scotch any rumors about your reputation.”

“Thank you, Madame,” Elizabeth said, inwardly pleased. Kitty and Lydia might be growing a trifle more sensible, but they were both too gauche to attend tonnish parties.

“Now I am puzzled about another aspect of this situation,” the countess continued. “Where are the rumors coming from regarding the ball at Netherfield? There is not much overlap between the societies of a country town and London, after all.”

Elizabeth sighed and said, “The appearance of Wickham here in London suggests that he may be the source of these rumors, although I doubt he has many connections in the upper crust of the ton. While I cannot be certain, it is also possible, perhaps even likely, that Miss Caroline Bingley is spreading rumors about our family.”

Darcy stared at her for a moment and then shook his head. “As exasperating as it is, you are almost certainly correct about Miss Bingley.”

“Miss Bingley? Sister of Miss Bennet’s fiancé? ”

“Yes,” Elizabeth continued. “Miss Bingley has always disliked me, though I am not certain what caused her antipathy.”

“I know,” Darcy said with a wry twist of the lips. “For many years, she has been pursuing me, even though I have discouraged her at every turn. Many weeks ago, I foolishly told her that I admired your fine eyes, and she has been jealous of you ever since.”

“She was hoping to become the mistress of Pemberley?” Lady Matlock asked.

“She was,” her nephew agreed.

The older woman contemplated this thoughtfully and then nodded. “I will deal with her. Now, the next question is, when are you planning to wed?”

The engaged pair gazed at one another, and Elizabeth said, “We have not talked about a date.”

“You ought to do so as soon as possible,” the lady said firmly, rising to her feet. “Not until your bruise has faded, of course, but I see no other reason to delay, and every reason to marry in relative haste.”

Elizabeth could not help but smile at this order, an expression which was reflected in her beloved’s countenance .

“Aunt, might you give us a few moments of privacy to discuss the matter?” he suggested.

“Very well, but I need to return home soon, so do not take too long.”

The lady swept out of the room, shutting the door behind her, and Darcy said, “Elizabeth, I wish to marry you as quickly as possible, but if you are concerned, it is too hasty, then please tell me.”

“I agree with your aunt. I see absolutely no reason to wait and every reason to proceed,” Elizabeth said. “I love you, and you love me. More than that, I am confident our adoration for one another is based on more than mere emotion.”

“Yes, that is true,” Darcy said, and his face lit up with such a glorious smile that she felt her heart beating faster in her chest. “Very well, we will arrange for the ceremony in the near future, though you need to be entirely recovered physically from your ordeal. Perhaps in the New Year?”

“Charles and Jane have spoken of a marriage the first fortnight of January. Perhaps we could have a double wedding.”

“You are certain you do not wish for your own ceremony? Your own day to shine? ”

“I wish to marry you, my dear Fitzwilliam,” she said simply.

He gazed at her and then leaned over to kiss her on the lips, though gently, so that he did not jar her bruised face.

“I love you, Elizabeth.”

“I love you too.”

***

Jane and Lydia’s Bedchamber

Lydia sat perfectly still and silent, with Jane’s wool shawl wrapped snugly around her shoulders, her eyes trained on the flickering flames dancing across the glowing coals. The bricks of the fireplace were still red with newness, not yet smoke-blackened like the hearth before them. All the fireplaces in the house had been Rumfordized right before the house was put to let, and Lydia was distantly grateful for the modern upgrade that would provide additional heat. She wondered, absently, if Mr. Bennet would spend the money to upgrade the fireplaces at Longbourn. The Rumford fireplaces really were better, and she was deliciously warm, and there was no smoke stinging her eyes.

Lydia hugged the cozy shawl tighter around herself and swallowed hard. Her reflections on Rumford fireplaces were but a desperate attempt to stave off her memory of the horrors of the previous day. Any time she closed her eyes, she saw the Wickham’s hard fist swinging into Lizzy’s face, knocking her senseless, saw him brutally dragging Lizzy across the street … and saw Wickham’s handsome features twisted into a snarl of rage and pain when his mask was ripped away. It had shaken her to the very core; she had never imagined that charming Mr. Wickham could be so cruel! To hit Lizzy!

Tears filled Lydia’s eyes in earnest and leaked down her cheeks as she thought of her first sight of Elizabeth this morning. She had been standing in the hall, unwontedly still and silent, as Jane had ushered Elizabeth into the parlor where a roaring fire was heating the room. Elizabeth’s poor face had been purple with bruising, puffy and contused and misshapen on one side. It looked dreadful, and Lydia had watched, stricken, as her elder sisters vanished into the parlor, before running upstairs to the safety of the room she was sharing with Jane to give vent to her shock.

Sweet Jane had come up in the midst of Lydia’s weeping and given her a hug and wrapped her own pink woolen shawl around Lydia’s shoulders before going back down to sit with Elizabeth. Lydia had been sitting in the chair ever since, watching the fire and thinking.

She was still stunned at how badly she had misjudged Mr. Wickham. She had adored him, hung on his every word, and eagerly received his every compliment and flirtation. She had even fancied herself in love! And yet, she had not known him at all! He was evil, vile, and unspeakably cruel. Lydia could barely fathom that any man would ever raise a hand to a woman, much less strike her across the face and attempt to abduct her. That happened in novels, not on safe comfortable streets in London! She wondered, with a sick feeling in her stomach, what would have happened if the attempt was made at Longbourn. Lizzy was wont to go out walking, taking long rambles across Longbourn’s safe familiar paths, and Wickham could have easily hidden himself until it was too late for Elizabeth to protect herself. He could have dragged her away, and Lydia might never have seen her sister again.

She thought, numbly, of Elizabeth’s and Jane’s warnings to her to moderate her behavior, to restrain her flirting, to practice caution and prudence around unknown men. She had ignored them, dismissed their warnings as the mutterings of dull girls on their way to being old maids. After all, had not the militia officers admired her? Had they not encouraged her liveliness and laughter ?

Lydia felt ill, wondering, now, whether the officers had been making sport of her. Oh how she wished she had heeded the wisdom of her elder sisters! Even Mary – dull, boring, plain Mary – who never garnered the admiring attention of a handsome man in a red coat, had warned her. She had grown weary of Mary’s moralizing and prosing, dismissing her dour warnings as mere jealousy. Now Lydia thought with a pang of the verse Mary had quoted after nearly every assembly, “ Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him; forthe LORD seethnot as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart. ”

Lydia regretted, now, her flippant, irritable denials. She would have been better served to have listened. Perhaps she would not have been so taken in by Mr. Wickham’s handsome face and engaging manners and would have seen that his charming exterior concealed a rotten heart and the soul of a viper.

For one wild moment, Lydia wondered if somehow her own behavior had led to Wickham’s assault on Lizzy. But no, she realized after a frantic reflection, though she now saw clearly how she could have brought them all to ruin, she had in no way incentivized that evil man to attack her sister. Moreover, the doctor had declared Elizabeth would soon be sound and hale once more! Lydia groped for her handkerchief and whispered a tiny prayer. “Thank You, God, that Lizzy will be well. Thank You.”

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose and felt a little better. Only a little, however, for her cares still weighed heavily on her young heart.

Had Wickham asked her to marry him in Meryton, she would have accepted in delight without a second’s thought. Certainly the monetary concerns of such an arrangement would never have occurred to her. Lydia had never been in the habit of considering where her pin money came from. The only time she cared about pounds and shillings was when she had spent all of her allowance and wished to wheedle her mother for more. She had genuinely never considered that her parents’ financial support would ever cease to be an option, even after she was one day married.

It was a harsh realization, to recognize so clearly what a fool she had been her entire life, and Lydia took a slow breath against the stab of it. But there was no changing the past; all she could do was improve herself, now. She would start being more careful with her pin money and paying attention to income and other practicalities, and she would be more wary of charming, handsome men whose appealing exteriors could be concealing cruelty or laziness. She would heed Elizabeth’s and Jane’s and Mary’s strictures and moderate her voice and behavior. Soon she would be of marriageable age, and she now understood that she had a great deal of growing up to do first.