Page 33 of Beyond Pride, Past Prejudice

Elizabeth experienced a moment of panic in the carriage that was taking them to Lady Oakham’s.

She feared that the ladies might have lured Mr Darcy to that afternoon’s gathering under some pretext, leading to an unintended meeting between them—Darcy unaware that she had also been invited.

That would have been a disaster. Even if their relationship might be renewed, it could not come about in such a manner—through the scheming of those around them, so similar to her mother’s designs, which she found as distasteful as he did.

“Will Mr Darcy be present?” she asked at last, resolved to return with the carriage if her aunt and her friend had arranged such a meeting.

“Mr Darcy?” her aunt repeated, genuinely surprised. “No, this is a gathering of ladies.”

Elizabeth exhaled forcefully despite herself, but Jane and her aunt mistook the sigh for regret rather than relief.

“We do not need to leave for Longbourn tomorrow,” said Jane.

“We must,” Elizabeth replied, a faint smile flourishing on her face meant to ease their evident concern and to show she did not suffer. “Remember that Father is sending our carriage to meet us halfway, and it will certainly not be empty—Lydia and Kitty will be in it.”

“It is not too late to cancel it,” Mrs Gardiner tried again to persuade her to remain.

“My dear ones,” said Elizabeth at last, “I need to remove myself for a while from everything—places and people alike. And I do not yet know what I shall do, if that is the question you are about to ask,” she added, in a tone that echoed the cheerful, teasing girl she had once been.

“I do wonder, however, what we are doing here,” she continued, glancing at the imposing house in front of which the carriage had now stopped.

The answer came to her in less than half an hour, in the spacious and elegant drawing-room of the Matlock family, where they were received by Lady Oakham, already surrounded by several ladies who spoke in a merry cacophony.

“My mother-in-law is out for an hour or so,” Lady Oakham said with a conspiratorial smile, like a child who invites her friends to visit when her parents are away.

“I still hope she will join us,” someone replied, and all present laughed, knowing well that Lady Matlock was an exceptional mother-in-law with a close bond to her daughter-in-law.

Elizabeth looked about with interest. Perhaps, had she remained in Hertfordshire, she and her friends would have appeared much the same ten years hence—married women, yet still young.

A few girls about her own age were also present.

Her observations were interrupted by the arrival of Miss de Bourgh and Miss Darcy, who, upon seeing them, rushed forwards and embraced both her and Jane with warm affection, heedless of decorum.

“I am so glad you are here. I feared you had already left for home,” Miss Darcy chirped.

“We would not have gone without saying goodbye,” Jane replied with grace, and several heads turned towards them.

Although the age difference among the ladies was slight, the room had already divided into groups: those gathered around Lady Oakham, discussing houses, holidays, and children, and those who had formed around Miss Darcy, speaking in lower voices of entirely different matters.

Elizabeth realised that although she knew none of the young men whose names were mentioned, the stories themselves were familiar.

And if she had once hoped this society might prove different, might offer her the stimulating conversation she longed for, she soon understood that in the end, she would have fled from it just as she did from an afternoon at Longbourn or any drawing-room in Meryton filled with ladies.

She found herself surprised that Lady Oakham had insisted so much on her presence—but then, when Lady Olivia entered the room accompanied by a few friends, a sharp pain twisted in Elizabeth’s chest, and the reason began to make itself known.

At the theatre, she had scarcely seen her.

She could not even recall whether they had been introduced, but now, as they exchanged curtsies, Elizabeth saw at once that Lady Olivia was a woman who knew she was admired and behaved accordingly—slightly arrogant, yet as agreeable as she could manage to be, which soon proved to be with a purpose, for she asked with deliberate indifference, “Shall we have the pleasure of seeing Lord Oakham and Colonel Fitzwilliam today?”

“Certainly not,” Lady Oakham replied cheerfully. “Today, we shall be just ladies, thank heavens.”

Lady Olivia did not respond, but her face betrayed a flicker of irritation, noticed immediately by the more attentive ladies. The haughty young woman would have left that moment had it been possible.

A hand squeezed Elizabeth’s discreetly, and when she turned, she saw Miss Darcy beside her on the sofa, smiling faintly.

Lady Olivia had not come to see the viscount, nor even his brother, even though he was the son of an earl—albeit a poor one, not an heir.

It was Mr Darcy who interested her, and her question had been only about him, even though his name had not been mentioned.

It appeared this was no exaggeration, for in recent days Elizabeth had heard with increasing frequency that Lady Olivia aspired to become his wife, and her intentions were no longer a secret in London.

But no one could tell what Mr Darcy thought about that plan, the rumour stopping just at his door that remained closed to any confidence, no matter how doggedly her ladies tried to find out more details.

Elizabeth did not regret having come. It was intriguing to observe those ladies and young women in their own world—one she had secretly wished to understand.

The arrival of Mr Darcy and the colonel in Kent had granted her that opportunity, yet this was something else entirely—the royal court of Lady Catherine, aged and monotonous, could not compare to that afternoon in Lady Oakham’s drawing room.

Never before had she been so near the heart of the ton, for in the end, the ladies shaped its atmosphere.

Her gaze moved from one to another, not always attentive to the conversations; the only one who deeply held her interest was Lady Olivia.

She attempted to determine whether Mr Darcy might marry such a woman.

She glanced next at Miss de Bourgh, who seemed to awaken in her mother’s absence—she smiled and, when spoken to, replied in sentences far longer than Elizabeth had ever heard from her before.

Yet Elizabeth’s eyes returned to Lady Olivia.

In truth, any unmarried young woman in that room could be Mr Darcy’s future wife.

Suddenly, she caught Lady Olivia’s voice, likely continuing a conversation Elizabeth had not heard.

“Lady Oakham has enjoyed a marriage blessed with the kind of fortune few of us will ever know.” Laced with sarcasm, her tone brought a hush to the room—broken at once by an unexpected reply from a lady who had just entered.

“My dear Lady Olivia, why not see it another way? It is my son who has been fortunate beyond what most men may hope for in our society.”

As the ladies all rose, Elizabeth understood that the newcomer was none other than Lady Matlock herself, who took the only vacant armchair—clearly reserved for her, as everyone evidently knew.

“We have new guests,” Lady Oakham announced, introducing Jane and Elizabeth. The keen look Lady Matlock gave her told Elizabeth that she already knew something of her and Mr Darcy.

“Please, be seated,” Lady Matlock said graciously. “I do not wish us to abandon the subject under discussion.” Exactly what Elizabeth had hoped.

“What more is there to say?” asked Lady Olivia in the same impertinent tone.

“If the discussion has been going on for a while, then I wish to hear every detail,” replied Lady Matlock in kind. “I am curious why a young lady of high birth should consider fortune to be what one ought to call love.”

“Because more often than not, it is fortune, Lady Matlock,” answered Lady Olivia, her tone sharp.

“Then perhaps you young women ought to attempt to change a world that tells you to pursue fortune rather than love.”

Elizabeth smiled almost without intending to, and unexpectedly, Lady Matlock saw it. “Why do you smile, Miss Elizabeth?” she asked, confirming she did indeed know who she was.

“I smile, your ladyship because those words seem to echo my father’s.”

“In that case, I must meet this gentleman. It is no easy thing to change the customs of a society where women speak of luck in marriage, but to know some men think as we do gives me hope that change is possible.”

“There are a few in our family as well,” said Lady Oakham with a touch of tenderness, softening the atmosphere, which had grown oddly heavy for an afternoon conversation.

“I have one at home,” added Mrs Gardiner, which prompted laughter all around.

“In that case, I am somewhat reassured,” said Lady Matlock. “The young women such as those gathered here must be taught that they are as worthy as the men. If they do not already know it. While the men have to accompany them in this belief.”

“My brother is among those of whom we speak,” Miss Darcy said courageously. Even though she blushed, her voice was clear and earnest.

“I have included him, my dear,” replied Lady Oakham. “He seems to me the very image of a modern man—one who seeks a partner in life, not merely a mother for his children or a housekeeper—”

“Or a decorative ornament to be shown off in society,” Lady Matlock added, casting another glance at Elizabeth, as though wishing to say more.

“Unfortunately, many of us enter marriage accepting the preconceptions of our future husbands. It is the only way we can marry,” a young woman nearby said.

Miss Darcy whispered to Elizabeth, “That is Lady Roberta, Lord Sidmouth’s daughter.”

“Regrettably, I am aware,” Lady Matlock replied with evident annoyance.

“But let us take comfort in the thought that among your generation, more men desire wives, not servants or dolls. I hope their number will only grow. Still, the change must also come from the women. To yield to family will, or to seek only wealth, these are the paths you must avoid—or at least reflect on the possibility of demanding more from life and the people around you.”

∞∞∞

“You did not expect such a serious conversation,” Mrs Gardiner said to Elizabeth that evening. “Lady Matlock observed you with interest.”

“Until Lady Matlock arrived, I was a little disappointed by the atmosphere,” Elizabeth said.

“It felt as though I were at Longbourn or in Meryton, among ladies I have known all my life. But Lady Matlock fundamentally changed the topic and tone of the conversation, and I must admit I am surprised that a lady of high society should think in such a way. I had believed they were the very ones who most fervently clung to traditions passed down through generations.”

“That is generally true, but ladies like Lady Matlock are not only patrons of the arts but also advocates for the education of young women. Some even go so far as to finance academies for girls.” Mrs Gardiner’s voice was engulfed in emotion as she continued, “It is one of the reasons I wanted to become part of their society.”

“I like that,” Elizabeth said with great sincerity, obviously reflecting on all the implications such a conversation could have.

“Then, dearest younger sister, do what you must to become one of those broad-minded ladies yourself—sooner rather than later,” Jane said with a smile. Yet she knew her sister too well; Elizabeth might listen to advice, but only from their father, and often not even from him.

Elizabeth offered no reply, but that night, she penned a long letter to Charlotte, recounting all that had transpired within the Matlock household.

Although she never stated it outright, every line moved quietly towards a resolution—not to surrender love, nor Mr Darcy.

Yet to be truly certain, she knew she would still require her father’s counsel.