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Darcy was just glancing around, using his superior height in the hope that he might discover the Gardiners’ position, when a new set of talons latched onto his arm.

He was not at all happy to discover that his latest companion was none other than Lady Fenella Pierpont-Cox, the very woman whose husband was currently partnering Elizabeth.

Lord Gregory had the morals of an alley cat and Darcy might have pitied the man’s wife, had she not appeared determined to exceed his misbehavior.

“Oh, my dear Mr. Darcy… I was so delighted to receive your invitation to the ball! It has been far too long—I had quite despaired of hearing from you!” Her simpering voice and madly fluttering eyelashes did no more to attract the gentleman than on any of the previous occasions that he had been forced to endure her.

Darcy responded with no more than the smallest of nods, but apparently that was enough encouragement for her to continue.

Fortunately, his wife was not oblivious to his situation.

When Lord Gregory Pierpont-Cox had maneuvered Mrs. Darcy into a dance, she had been looking for her husband.

Now, although she moved through the forms with her usual grace and made appropriate noises in response to her partner’s monologue, she was keeping a discrete eye on Mr. Darcy and his excellent imitation of a very grim statue.

Although she had never before met Lord Gregory, Elizabeth quickly had his measure and was not particularly surprised when he offered to show her the conservatory when the dance ended.

Having no desire to be alone with such a man, Mrs. Darcy smiled sweetly but turned in quite the opposite direction.

“Thank you, sir, but at the moment I am very much in need of some refreshment.”

The gentleman had no choice but to follow in her wake as his prey wound her way through the crush.

He wished he had been less accommodating, however, when he stepped around a large matron with a feathered turban only to discover that the lovely little ingénue was now standing beside her husband… and Lord Gregory’s own wife.

Before the older man could act to repair the situation, however, Elizabeth was already exclaiming, “Why Lady Fenella, you look positively parched! Mr. Darcy, have you not offered her some refreshment? His lordship was just going to fetch me a glass of punch—perhaps you might accompany him?”

Not quite certain what his wife was about but willing to follow her lead, Darcy agreed and, after curtly inquiring as to her ladyship’s preference, efficiently herded the older man toward the buffet.

Before she could unleash any of the barbs that came to mind, Lady Fenella found herself answering all manner of questions about her beloved toy spaniels…

a topic upon which she had a hard time restraining her enthusiasm, particularly with as sympathetic an interrogator as Mrs. Darcy.

She had barely begun to describe her latest litter of puppies when the two gentlemen returned and a cup of punch appeared in her hand.

Before Lord Gregory could hand her a glass however, Elizabeth had attached herself to her husband’s arm, offering brightly, “Mr. Darcy, I believe that you promised me a quadrille this evening, but I have yet to enjoy one.”

Fitzwilliam immediately bowed to his lady and offered his hand “And fortunately for me, the orchestra has just begun one.” The couple paid their courtesies with such efficiency that they were gone before the Pierpont-Coxes knew quite what had happened.

While the Darcys waited for another couple to go through the form, Will squeezed his wife’s hand and said softly, “Thank you for that.”

Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, well, I fear that Lady Alexandra warned me about them. And never let it be said that Mrs. Bennet did not educate her daughters on managing a household… including, though not exclusive to, defending one’s territory from poachers.

” She spoke with such a serious expression that it was only through the greatest effort that Fitzwilliam managed to cover his guffaw with a cough.

From that point on, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy did not suffer themselves to be parted. They chatted with old acquaintances and new, but danced only with each other.

Grosvenor Square Glitters!

Those not fortunate enough to attend last night’s ball by a certain Earl of M.

may bluff without fear, for surely the event was such a ridiculous crush that even this eagle-eyed observer could not say for certain who was present and who was not.

Lady E. has once again proven herself to be a leader among London’s premier hostesses.

Although the evening’s host appeared not at all uninclined to seize the opportunity for rallying votes to his cause (on the parliamentary docket for Tuesday), it cannot be argued that the man of the hour was his nephew.

Weep ladies, for England’s most eligible bachelor is decidedly off the market.

The famously stoic gentleman from Derbyshire was observed smiling for much of the evening, showing those devastating dimples that cause females everywhere to swoon.

But his warmest looks were for his bride—clearly there is no lack of affection on either side!

And who could blame him? The previously unknown Miss E.

B. of Hertfordshire displayed an artless grace combined with a sparkling wit that left not a few wishing to know her better.

The famous Darcy rubies (last seen gracing the neck of the gentleman’s mother, the late Lady A.) were matched with a deep red silk undergown overlain by cream-colored organza embroidered with white vines and roses, utterly elegant in its simplicity.

Some women might have been overwhelmed by such jewels, but the new Mrs. D.

wore them like a queen. Keep an eye out, ladies; this appearance, added to her success at the theatre last week, suggests that we may have a new leader on the London fashion scene!

We have heard that the lady has chosen to patronize an unknown modista, recently emigrated from Paris, and the freshness of her design certainly showed.

The bodice was fitted perfectly with clever ruching up to a narrow sash (red ribbon cut with silver); melon sleeves and a simple, unembellished v-neckline (not too deep, mind you!) complimented the jewels, not to mention the lady’s slender neck and shoulders.

The skirts had almost no bustle but were draped in such a way as to hint at the lady’s lovely figure when she stood, yet flowed pleasingly as she danced.

Hands off, gentlemen! The lady may have danced almost every dance with a light step and a smile, but she was clearly happiest at her husband’s side.

That gentleman was overheard to say that they planned a retreat to Derbyshire as soon as the ball was over, and who could blame him with such a beauty by his side! ?!

The guests were also granted a peek at a certain young heiress from Derbyshire, looking adorably modest in embroidered white muslin with an apricot sash and accompanied by the bride’s two younger sisters.

Does this mean her guardians are contemplating a spring debut?

Gentlemen, shine up your dancing slippers, for it is rumored that the young Miss D.

is among the most musically gifted of her generation!

Having retired so close to dawn, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slept late the next morning.

Eventually, they endeavored to rise, knowing that the servants needed to pack if they were to leave for Derbyshire as planned.

After a leisurely brunch in their sitting room and some chuckles over the fawning comments in the society columns, Fitzwilliam suggested a walk and Elizabeth happily agreed.

The pair enjoyed a long ramble along the Serpentine and did not return home until almost dusk.

When the butler himself opened the door for them, Darcy immediately perceived that the man was uneasy. “Is there a problem, Holmes?” he inquired, while helping Elizabeth out of her pelisse.

“An express was delivered in your absence, sir. I sent out Robby and Adam, but they weren’t able to find you.

The letter is from Kent, sir.” Mr. Holmes had served the Darcy family faithfully for his entire life and had had the dubious pleasure of being present for several of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s visitations over the years.

Darcy’s expression tightened but, however little he wished to hear from his aunt, his sense of duty prevailed. He held out his hand for the missive. “Very well. Although I am tempted to consign it to the fire directly, let us see what Lady Catherine has to say first.”

Holmes looked even more discomfited. “I beg your pardon, sir, but the express is for Mrs. Darcy.” With a look of apology to his master, he presented the envelope to a surprised and very apprehensive Elizabeth.

Before Fitzwilliam could denounce his aunt for targeting his wife again, Elizabeth touched his arm. “Will, it is from Charlotte.” The couple exchanged a look. Both knew that Mrs. Collins would never send an express unless the news was very urgent.

After a quick look around, Darcy drew her into his study and shut the door even as Elizabeth broke the seal and began reading.

It was but an instant before she turned back to him with an unhappy expression.

“There has been a carriage accident involving Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins. They are both still alive, but Charlotte fears the worst, for your aunt especially.”