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Elizabeth Darcy was having a very difficult time controlling her face.

On an otherwise lovely late spring afternoon, she was sitting in the formal drawing room at Derwent House watching a battle take place between the most unlikely of combatants.

The verbal pugilists were two elderly ladies, each dressed to leave no question as to their wealth and position (though both tended toward the fashions of their youth).

Both claimed an acquaintance with the previous Mrs. Darcy and had, since Elizabeth’s own marriage, called upon her once a week with clocklike regularity.

Today, however, whatever forces that determined the women’s schedules had caused them to arrive at the Darcys’ front door simultaneously, and their mutual antipathy had prevented either from giving way.

As a result, Elizabeth had spent the last ten minutes attempting to make polite conversation while suppressing an urge to dissolve into very impolite giggles.

Each attempt was met with a courteous response to her, followed by a needling comment aimed at the other guest, usually about some incident long past that only they two remembered.

To Elizabeth, Mrs. Pratt and Mrs. Dewitt seemed rather like two dignified old cats who both wanted to occupy the same patch of sunlight.

Neither was prepared to launch a full-out attack but nor were they willing to give way, and so they each sat, largely stiff and motionless, punctuated by brief jabs and hisses.

It was probably lucky for Mrs. Darcy’s reputation that the butler entered before her guests noticed her inattention. Mr. Holmes moved to her side and offered a card on a silver salver. She read the name of the visitor with some astonishment.

Lady Alameda Fitzwilliam, Viscountess Ashbourne, Baroness Asbury

None of the Darcys had seen the Earl of Matlock’s heir since Lord Ashbourne’s distasteful performance at their ball, and it occurred to Elizabeth that she had not encountered the viscount’s wife since the previous autumn.

Elizabeth had tried to be dispassionate when meeting Lady Alameda, but had found the Viscountess to be consistently condescending and occasionally vicious.

The fact that Lizzy had considered the lady’s dress and mannerisms to be oddly reminiscent of Miss Caroline Bingley had not helped, although later she had discovered it to be quite the reverse; the two had attended the same school and the young tradesman’s daughter had used Lady Alameda as something of an ideal to model herself upon.

As all of this raced through Elizabeth’s head, the butler added in an undertone, “Her ladyship wished to see you on a private family matter.”

“Is her husband with her?” Lizzy had no desire to meet with the dissolute and potentially violent Lord Ashbourne without her husband at her side, even in her own home.

“No ma’am. Only her son and his nurse.”

“Very well. Please show them to the yellow drawing room and tell her I will be there in a few minutes.”

As Holmes departed, Elizabeth turned back to her two callers.

Those ladies had fallen silent and were now directing curious eyes upon her.

A bit of redirection was in order, she decided.

“I beg your pardon; just a small family matter that required my attention. My young cousins are staying with us while their parents are in Kent; my goddaughter has recently discovered the joy of crawling and appears determined to escape whenever the nurse’s back is turned. ”

Both ladies beamed, their first genuine smiles of the day. Encouraged, Elizabeth added, “The Countess of Matlock was visiting yesterday and said that Mr. Darcy was just the same at that age.”

And then, the most amazing thing happened. Not only did the women smile, but they turned to each other and spoke almost simultaneously.

“Do you remember…”

“The birthday dinner!”

And the two elderly ladies dissolved into what could only be described as a fit of girlish giggles. After several moments, they regained their composure and managed to explain the incident to their hostess, at first hesitatingly but then with increasing camaraderie.

“Lady Anne Darcy had planned a dinner party in honor of her husband’s birthday…”

“Really, his birthday was just an excuse—she loved to dress up and decorate the place.”

“It was all very tasteful, of course, but she did love her frills and posies.”

“The dining room was a veritable bower—even the footmen’s uniforms had been made over to match.” The two ladies tittered for a moment before returning to their story .

“And the crowning glory was the cake.”

“She’d hired a famous French chef just for the occasion.”

“The cake decorations were spectacular—all those flowers and lace made from spun sugar.”

“Yes, just what one would order for a sixteen year old girl, not a middle-aged gentleman!” The story was interrupted by another bout of giggles.

“But Mr. Darcy was good-humored about it.”

“He appreciated her effort, and always loved a party.”

“He had his faults, but he was a good man.” Both ladies nodded sagely. Noticing that Elizabeth was watching them expectantly, they continued the story. “And so, into her perfectly decorated party, just behind her beautifully decorated cake, walked in young Master Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

“Just three or four years old, and as earnest as could be.”

“He looked to have dressed himself, and with those big, serious eyes and chocolate curls, you just wanted to hug him.”

Elizabeth smiled broadly at this description of her dignified husband as a child.

“Well, Lady Anne was horrified—children should be confined to the nursery and certainly were not meant to be part of her party.”

“But before she could do anything, young Master Fitzwilliam went right up to his father and presented him with a box.”

“In that moment, you could see just the sort of man he would grow up to be.”

“I’ll never forget his words. ‘I wish you a very happy birthday, sir.’ I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been practicing his speech all day.”

“So shy, but resolved to ignore the roomful of strangers staring at him and do what he had determined to be his duty.”

By now, all three ladies had tears in their eyes. Mrs. Pratt and Mrs. Dewitt were leaning back on the sofa, giggling and holding hands in the manner of old friends.

Elizabeth could not restrain her curiosity. “And what was in the box?” prompting both ladies to dissolve into outright laughter.

“The boy’s most prized possession!”

“A big green frog!”

“Mr. Darcy thanked his son with all the gravity of a king receiving some priceless jewel, placed the box on the table before him and opened it with a grand flourish…”

“And out jumped this enormous frog that the lad had caught in the park that morning.”

“And it jumped right onto Lady Anne’s beautiful cake!”

“Well, Mr. Darcy let out the greatest belly laugh you have ever heard…”

“But oh, Lady Anne’s face! She went white, then red. It was probably fortunate that she was too furious to speak, or her poor son would have received the tongue-lashing of his young life then and there for ruining her pretty table setting.”

Once their laughter had quieted a little, Mrs. Dewitt took up the tale; “Well, Mr. Darcy’s laughter was contagious, and the rest of the party were good-natured enough to enjoy the spectacle.”

“It probably helped that the frog hopped into the spun sugar gazebo on the cake and stayed there.”

“He did appear quite at home among all the sugared violets and marzipan fruits.”

“Well, Mr. Darcy was always a superb host. He sent for champagne and shepherded all the guests along to the music room.”

“In the blink of an eye, he had Mrs. Sullivan playing a reel and soon everyone was singing and dancing.”

“And drinking champagne.”

“And drinking champagne, lovely stuff.” The two old ladies gave each other a wink and a nudge and turned back to the current Mrs. Darcy with the glint of mischievous youth in their eyes.

At that moment, Holmes re-entered the room. With the ease of an old servant, he communicated to his mistress that Lady Alameda and her son were settled in the yellow parlor to await her convenience.

The two elderly ladies rose, sensing from long experience in Society that it was time to depart.

Suddenly sorry to part from her guests, Elizabeth held out a hand to each and spoke from the heart; “I’ve so enjoyed your visit and I would love to hear more of your stories.

Might the two of you call again this week?

We will be leaving for Derbyshire in a fortnight, but would you have any time on Friday?

Mr. Darcy’s sister would be here then and I’m certain that she would love to hear your memories of her parents. ”

The two ladies agreed happily and alternated between patting Elizabeth’s cheek and calling her a “dear girl” as the three moved to the front hall.

“That would be delightful, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Truly, this has been most enjoyable. Nothing couldn’t keep me away.”

“Neither rain, nor sleet…”

“Nor dark of night!”

“Nor lightning!”

“Nor fish falling from the sky!”

“Have you seen the hot air balloon in the Park?

“Where you get in the basket and the man takes you up in the air? Oh heavens, yes—it looks wonderful!”

“Truly amazing—can you imagine seeing all of London spread out below you?”

“My grandson went up in it and said that all the people looked like ants. Can you imagine?”