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E lizabeth descended the stairs carefully, seeing Father waiting in the hall.

She knew that two morning calls from Mr. Darcy had given her confidence and a new bloom to her complexion.

She smiled slightly; was this love? Knowing she anticipated his calls, and found that his direct gaze upon her made her rather breathless inside?

And Father had accepted an invitation to dine at Darcy House for them and Aunt Cecilia three days hence. She knew her eyes were shining at the thought of seeing him in his own home and what it was like.

But she must concentrate her mind on this evening.

Father had asked her to accompany him to the House of Lords for a reception.

She had not known such a thing existed, but he’d explained that it was a regular occurrence for peers and their ladies, where the lords tended to group together and talk of the current bills making their passage through the Chamber.

This would be the final commitment before the Chamber recessed for the summer months.

“So, my dear, I have never taken a lady with me, but now I may introduce you, so you can become known amongst the highest ladies. It will be a benefit to you in the future.”

She’d dipped her head. “I hope I will live up to your hopes of me.”

He’d laughed. “There will be some lords who wish to inform me of their opinion of some bills but prefer it not to be so formal. When they realise who you are, they will speak to their wives, who will tell you about it with the expectation that you will tell me.”

Elizabeth had laughed. “Will I need a notebook?”

Now it was time, and as she reached Father, he bowed over her hand. “You look delightful, my dear.”

“Will you introduce me to a lady you trust, Father, before you leave me with them?” Elizabeth felt uncharacteristically anxious, and he patted her hand.

“You will be perfectly all right, Elizabeth. Everyone is the wife or daughter of one of my Lords colleagues.”

The second coach rattled along the street behind them, and a large number of footmen were atop their own coach too, alongside the grooms and coachmen. Even for such a short journey as this, Father took no chance at danger, and Elizabeth was reassured.

She tried to push her sense of foreboding away. Surely it was just because, not being a ball, Mr. Darcy wouldn’t be there.

They swept in through the great iron gates, and she alighted with her father, and accompanied him through long gilded corridors, heavy velvet curtains hiding windows or alcoves; she was not sure which.

She was introduced to a bewildering number of lords and their ladies, some of whom she’d met at balls during the season. One earl seemed to be particularly delighted to see her.

“Lady Elizabeth! How delightful to see you at last.” The man bowed low. “This is my wife, Countess of Monmouth, and my elder son, Viscount Castleton.”

Elizabeth curtsied. “It is an honour, Lord Monmouth, Lady Monmouth, Lord Castleton.” She tried to look welcoming, but the family made her feel uneasy.

Lady Monmouth pressed up close to her, and Elizabeth felt that in ordinary society, she’d appear like Mrs. Bennet.

Her lips tightened as the lady drew her son closer and began to laud his achievements and descent.

Then Father was there. He broke in and excused them, drawing her away. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, that you have to endure this, but I think it will be more comfortable if you converse with Lady Jersey, since you have met her at Almacks.”

Elizabeth stood beside Lady Jersey for the next ten minutes, finding out what it was like to be the patroness of Almacks, and to have to receive supplications from those who wished to receive the vouchers.

“I think you, too, have found yourself at the receiving end of such, my dear.” The lady’s eyes followed Lady Monmouth and her son.

Was there a warning there? Elizabeth didn’t need it to be wary of them.

Their heads were close together, and then the lady checked her delicate wristwatch before her son pulled out his own pocket watch to compare it.

“You are correct, my lady,” Elizabeth answered. “At every dance and dinner, it has been relentless.” Although at least at the balls, she’d had the opportunity to relax during her dance with Mr. Darcy.

It was quite late that evening, and Elizabeth was beginning to wonder how long it would go on. The lords had all vanished to talk over brandy and cigars.

If they didn’t return home soon, she would need to brave the ladies retiring room, and she didn’t want to be accosted in there, where there might not be many other people.

Eventually, she convinced herself that there would be a number of maids present, and she knew footmen in their strange red tunics and black caps were lining the corridors. A little discomfort, but she would still be quite safe.

She smiled at the lady beside her and rose to her feet. “Please excuse me for a few moments.”

She was embarrassed that she checked Lady Monmouth was still sitting in a group of her own acquaintances, and Elizabeth felt more confident as she slipped quietly out of the door.

She was rather disconcerted to see there were a number of gentlemen also in the corridor, although many of them seemed the worse for wear, barely noticing her.

But there was an unwelcome voice. “Lady Elizabeth. May I escort you?” She turned around.

“I think not, Lord Castleton.” She let her voice be very cold, and at once turned back to rejoin the ladies. Better that than continue on. But there was Lady Monmouth, making her way towards them.

“Let me come with you, my dear. The room is round a few corners yet.”

Elizabeth glanced at the footmen. There were at least plenty of them.

But a moment later, the Viscount grasped her arm, and pulled her towards a set of the heavy velvet curtains. “This way, my lady. We can become better acquainted. It will only need a moment.” His smile was maniacal, and she attempted to free her arm without success.

She turned to the lady and saw her walking ahead, studiously not paying attention.

Elizabeth saw red. “You are worse than the lowest servant I have ever met, you scoundrel!”

She twisted her arm away, and he grabbed for her again.

“Fetch the duke at once!” Elizabeth commanded the nearest footman, who hesitated.

“Stay where you are!” The viscount snarled at him, and Elizabeth realised they must see too many goings-on to be concerned with another.

The viscount was much too close, and Elizabeth turned and raked down his shin with her shoe.

Unfortunately, being a satin slipper, it did not hurt him in the way she intended, and he gave a grin — until she stamped hard on his foot and tore herself free, hurrying back to the room where the rest of the ladies were.

As soon as she saw Lady Jersey, she hurried over to her, trembling. “I am sorry, my lady, but I am in need of your assistance. Could you summon my father, please?”

The woman’s eyes hardened. “Was the viscount waiting for his mother? I saw she followed you.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth shivered. “But then she pretended not to see anything while he tried to drag me behind a curtain.”

Lady Jersey may have been only a countess, but for consequence, she ruled over duchesses, even here. Within moments, Father was with her, and his eyes were steely as she recounted the viscount’s attempt to compromise her; here, where she had thought she must be safe.

Father patted her hand, and rose to his feet. Lord Trenton stood beside him, and Father turned. “Summon my Lord Speaker, Trenton, if you please.”

Then he turned to Lady Jersey. His voice was grave.

“I would ask you a very great boon, if you please, my lady. I must remain here and attend to this matter, but I would be very grateful if you feel able to escort Lady Elizabeth back to Osborne House for me. My coach will return you here at once after she is safely indoors.”