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Lizzy wavered between amusement and sympathy for the Countess’s target.

Before she could decide, however, Lady Trowbridge turned back to the intruder.

“But of course, you are no longer merely Miss Chastity any more; I remember how surprised we all were when you married Mr. Winterbottom. Why, you were just sixteen and he was… well, so much more!”

The younger woman responded stiffly, “Mr. Winterbottom passed away several years ago. I am now the Baroness Cutsforth.”

The Countess applied her monocle and pretended to peer about. “Indeed! And where is this new gentleman? Shall we meet him tonight?”

The other lady would have liked to snarl, but knew when it was time to retreat. “I fear that Lord Cutsforth is also deceased; I am only recently out of mourning. Now, if you will all excuse please me, I must find my party.”

After watching the woman stalk off, the Countess turned to see a hint of disapproval in Mrs. Darcy’s eye.

“Don’t give me that look, Lizzy-girl! I’ve known Chastity McPhee since she was only four years old, and she was an accomplished flirt even then.

Ask any of the men in Hennepin if you doubt me! Or your own husband, for that matter!”

While Mr. Darcy looked uncomfortable, Lady Alexandra continued, “She married poor Winterbottom for his fortune—the man was sixty if he was a day and could not believe his luck that such a fine young lass was hanging out for him. Didn’t last a year past the wedding, poor fool.

She used his money to buy her way into Society and then caught old Cutsforth’s eye…

that old coot always did have more fashion than sense.

But he was happy enough to have a pretty bit on his arm—his first wife was so dreadfully plain that I suppose he thought he deserved it—and it got Chastity the title for which she was so desperate. ”

Seeing that the Darcys were looking somewhat alarmed, the Countess laughed. “Oh pish tosh. Darcy—you need not look so disapproving. Everyone here knows her story and at least I have not dressed it up with idle speculation that she poisoned her husbands.”

Before either of her listeners could think of something to say in response, they were rescued by the appearance of Darcy’s relations.

After exchanging greetings, Lady Alexandra accepted the Fitzwilliams’ invitation to join their party in Matlock’s box. “Far more agreeable than sitting with Percy and his wife, I dare say,” she muttered to Mrs. Darcy as they climbed the stairs.

Elizabeth smiled but held her tongue. Later, when she was alone with her husband in their rooms, she related what she knew of the family, explaining that she had come to know the Countess through Mrs. Gardiner.

“Her son, Lord Percy Hardwick, is exceptionally dull. I’m sorry to say it, but there it is.

Lady Alex says that he takes after his father,” Lizzy giggled a little.

“But then, she also claims that she only married Lord Decimus because his name made him sound so intriguing.”

Darcy looked on with bemused affection as his wife stole a sip from his glass.

The first time she had tried his port, Lizzy had exclaimed that she finally understood why the gentlemen kept it for themselves.

“It is a vast improvement over sherry which, I must admit, I’ve never developed a taste for.

” She would never allow him to pour out a glass of her own, but when they were alone in the evenings he had come to expect a significant portion of his glass to disapear through no activity of his own.

After savoring the deep, velvety taste for a moment, Elizabeth continued her story. “I remember, when Lord Percy first became engaged, thinking that there could not be another woman more perfect for him. Rich, well-connected, and without a single original thought in her pretty head.”

“Does the dowager Lady Trowbridge live with them?” inquired Darcy with curiosity. To be quite honest, the thought of sharing a house with his own mother-in-law filled him with horror.

“Oh stars, no! They would drive Lady Alex quite mad, and she them, I suspect.” Lizzy giggled again and allowed herself another sip of the port.

“The newest Lord and Lady Trowbridge have built themselves a fine new mansion in Mayfair.” She turned to look up at Darcy, but he could only shake his head helplessly, having nothing more than a vague idea as to where it might be located.

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Lady Alex stayed in the old Trowbridge house in Bloomsbury, closer to the museums and libraries. Officially, it was put in trust for her daughter, Lady Rose, now Mrs. Smithson.”

Darcy started, making his wife smile. “Ah, I see you have heard that story. It was quite the scandal—the only daughter of an earl falling in love with an Oxford lecturer she met at the British Museum. I remember thinking it was terribly romantic when I was thirteen—my mother was horrified, of course.”

“Their house is just down the street from that of my Uncle James,” admitted Fitzwilliam.

Although he did not say anything aloud, he also recalled the disapproval he had felt upon first hearing of the marriage…

and the relief that he was not responsible for such a wayward female.

Since Elizabeth had forced him to reconsider his prejudices, however, he found himself feeling a great deal more sympathetic toward the couple.

Guessing the direction of his thoughts, Lizzy only smiled and added, “Mr. and Mrs. Smithson split their time between London and Oxford when they are not in Egypt on one of his expeditions. The statuary and artifacts they have brought back are quite astonishing.”

“It does sound fascinating,” admitted Darcy.

“We should invite them to dinner when we are next in town,” he added, not realizing just how clearly such a suggestion demonstrated the alteration in his thinking.

Only a year before, he never would have considered pursuing an acquaintance with a couple whose marriage was considered by many to be a degradation to her family’s pride.

Now, however, he cared more for the character and intellect of his companions than their position in Society.

Elizabeth laughed softly, loving him all the more for his obliviousness. “That would be lovely. For now, though, I believe I’ve had quite enough company; I will be very happy when this ball is over and we can leave for Pemberley.”

Will expressed his approval of this sentiment as only a husband should.