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“It is good to see you again, Miss Bennet.” Colonel Fitzwilliam leant towards her with a warm smile. “Your presence is a surprise to many of us, apparently, but a most welcome one.”

“Thank you, sir. I am pleased to be here as well. You have a handsome family home. The gardens must be quite beautiful in season.”

The colonel laughed. “Diplomacy is among your other talents. Matlock gives proof to the truth that Lady Catherine and my father are sister and brother.”

He began peppering her with questions about her health, her family, her plans for the week ahead.

So many questions, and so many amusing rejoinders to her answers that she soon realised more than half their time together had passed and they had yet to eat.

She eyed the large bowl of strawberries and looked eagerly at the covered platter on the table.

The colonel, finally taking on his role as server, lifted the cover on the fish course, even as he invited her to begin calling him Richard and requested permission to call her by her given name.

Elizabeth granted the indulgence absently even as she eyed the huge crustacean on the platter.

It was as close to a monster as anything she had ever seen, and she could not conceive of how one could eat it, let alone find anything edible inside it.

Why could they not have had trout or salmon?

Did the colonel understand how one would slice and cut and serve such a creature? Or how one should eat it?

The thought of the lobster dwelling under water prompted thoughts of Darcy’s fear of frogs.

And then she recalled the mole he supposedly had in a most unmentionable place.

She felt herself reddening as her imagination took flight; in an effort to stifle a most unladylike snort, Elizabeth reached for a strawberry and popped it in her mouth.

She closed her eyes to savour the fruit’s sweet taste .

“Dear lord almighty,” she heard her companion murmur. Elizabeth’s eyes opened and she found the colonel staring at her, mouth slightly open, a full glass of champagne slipping from his hand.

“Are you well?” As she reached across the table to right the glass, he startled, rearing back and spilling the entire contents of the goblet onto the front of his jacket.

“No!” He jerked back, knocking the heavy silver dome to the floor with a loud clatter.

Instinct prompted Elizabeth to pick up her napkin and dab at the liquid dampening the colonel’s jacket and lapel.

“Elizabeth! What has happened?” Darcy burst into the library and stared at the pair. His expression of concern changed to one of suspicion—all of it directed towards his cousin.

“Oh shut it, Darcy. ’Twas an accident. My apologies, Lizzy.”

Darcy’s expression hardened as he said, icily, “ Lizzy ?”

Elizabeth had met only a few in the party, and was rather exhausted by men.

She did not know whether there would be a separation of the sexes—there had been so much separation already in this odd sort of dinner party—but she truly looked forward to meeting the ladies.

After all, for as much as she had eagerly anticipated this reunion with Darcy, so too had she desired meeting other young ladies of the society to which she must become accustomed.

It was a unique opportunity for her, and one of which she intended to avail herself.

The entrance of a gentleman fully dissimilar to her previous dining companions came as a relief.

Mr Anderson, modest in manner and polite enough, seemed to promise that this course could be eaten—she truly was famished—and conversation would be less heated.

She wondered how much Mr Anderson might have overheard of the previous, rather explosive conversation there in the library and whether he had noticed the nearly untouched platters of lobster and strawberries removed as he entered and Darcy stalked out.

While Mr Anderson was quiet and seemed content to let her eat before engaging in much conversation, Elizabeth noted the pleasure and interest he took when she mentioned outings to the park and puppet shows with her young cousins.

She had cracked open a door with him, and he stepped through almost eagerly, speaking more openly, albeit formally and as a gentleman, to her.

It was the easiest half an hour she had yet passed at Matlock, and the most filling; the sugarplums and candied plums were delicious.

No longer peckish, she sat back and enjoyed Mr Anderson’s conversation until their time together came to an end.

If he took his leave abruptly rather than escort her to wherever destiny beckoned next in this cavernous castle, well, she would thank him later.

After all, the man who loved her had, apparently, been waiting, and his fearsome expression of some thirty minutes earlier had faded into one of contrition.

She eyed him expectantly. “Mr Anderson has been sent on his way?”

Darcy nodded. “Some fresh air and a chance to see the night sky, madam?” He regarded her hopefully and at her nod, offered his arm and led her from the library.

“I wish for a few minutes alone before we join the others,” he said as he led her down a long corridor. Other couples were moving in the opposite direction, but he urged her on. “My uncle cannot boast of his library, but the orangery is rather magnificent.”

She smiled. The ladies can wait.