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THE TALK OF THE TON

E lizabeth did not inform anyone of her mother’s continued presence in town. The muddle of her feelings was such that she knew not how or whether to broach the matter, and she certainly had no wish to act in any way that might persuade Mrs Bennet to make the estrangement permanent.

In her more rational moments, such an outcome did not seem possible.

Only the most scandalous women—or the very richest—voluntarily left their husbands.

Mrs Bennet had no money of her own and surely lacked the gumption to make a respectable go of things on her own.

Moreover, she had always seemed happily settled, revelling in her situation as mistress of Longbourn and first lady of the neighbourhood.

The mere suggestion that she might give it all up would have seemed far-fetched nonsense a mere two months ago.

Now, Elizabeth was less sure. The precariousness of Mrs Bennet’s situation, whilst unchanged, had been brought painfully to the fore by Mr Collins’s marriage.

Her husband’s indifference to her misery remained so steady that he had sent his daughter as his ambassador rather than take the trouble to come after her himself.

She had a friend who seemed able and content to support her financially.

And she was enjoying herself—for the first time in years, it transpired.

Considered in this light, it did not seem at all impossible that Mrs Bennet should choose never to return home.

The thought was truly alarming, yet Elizabeth could not find it in herself to be angry.

She had never seen her mother look as earnestly distressed as when she asked to be left alone.

She had resolved, therefore, to do precisely that.

For now. What she would say when questions began to be asked, she had not decided.

Perhaps she would refer the enquirers to her father.

“You are very quiet, Lizzy,” Jane said softly. “You would more commonly make sport of such listless performances.”

Elizabeth shook herself back to alertness and appraised her sister with feigned shock. “And you would more commonly upbraid me for doing so. It must be dire if even you are allowing censure.”

They were at a charity recital, organised by the wife of one of Mr Gardiner’s business acquaintances.

It had been billed as a lively afternoon of contemporary readings and musical interludes but had yet to live up to its hyperbole, and since they were more than an hour in, it did not seem likely that it would.

Jane gave in to a grin. “Perhaps we might sneak away in the interval.”

This idea was met with hearty approval by Mrs Gardiner when it was put to her over the refreshment table ten minutes later.

“Allow me to introduce you to Mrs Michelson first,” she said. “Her husband brings a good deal of business your uncle’s way, and he would never forgive me for overlooking her.”

Mrs Michelson was sought out and the introduction made, much to the woman’s apparent glee.

“Did you say this young lady is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” she asked, quite overlooking Jane.

“Yes,” Mrs Gardiner said with some confusion.

Mrs Michelson gave a triumphant little cry.

“My dear Mrs Gardiner! All this time, the most fêted lady in London has been your niece? I never even considered… Upon my word, who would ever have guessed!” Mrs Michelson, now quite red in the face, turned to Elizabeth.

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance. I have heard so much about you!”

“You have?” Elizabeth was unable to keep from chuckling at the lady’s enthusiasm, even as she frowned over her meaning.

“Why, my dear, you are the talk of the ton !”

“I think there must be some mistake.”

“Is your father’s estate not Longbourn, in Hertfordshire?”

“It is.”

“Then there is no mistake,” Mrs Michelson replied, her eyes gleaming. “But I shall say no more, for I know you will not admit to anything, even if I should ask, and I would not have it said that I cannot keep a secret. Tell me, are you attending Lady Staunton’s ball next week?”

“Um…no. Pray, what secret are?—”

“That will never do,” Mrs Michelson interrupted. Turning to Mrs Gardiner, she said, “I shall get you an invitation.”

“That is most kind,” Mrs Gardiner said, “but we are not acquainted with Lady Staunton.”

“Are you not?” She paused, peering at Elizabeth in apparent confusion before giving a quick shake of her head. “Well! We must rectify that forthwith, for she will want your niece at her ball.”

Elizabeth was certain her aunt would put a stop to the nonsense and was astonished when, instead, she inclined her head and said, “Then we must not disappoint her.”

Mrs Michelson beamed with pleasure. “I shall bring her to you tomorrow. Until then, good day my dear Mrs Gardiner, Miss Bennet—and Miss Elizabeth .” She paused to run her eyes over Elizabeth from head to toe before nodding complacently and moving away to another part of the room.

Elizabeth turned to her aunt to express her indignation, but Mrs Gardiner silenced her with a look and ushered her and Jane out of the building.

“What was that about?” Jane asked as soon as they were on the street.

“I have no idea!” Elizabeth answered. “Whyever did you agree to receive her friend?” she asked her aunt.

“As I said, Mrs Michelson’s husband is an important connexion of your uncle’s.

It would not do for us to slight her by refusing the offer of an introduction she evidently thought was important.

” She paused to wait for a carriage to pass, then led them across the road.

Once they were safely on the opposite pavement, she continued, “I should not worry. I know not what rank Lady Staunton boasts, but I doubt she will take kindly to having an introduction to us foisted upon her. It would be entirely her prerogative to refuse.”

“Mrs Michelson was adamant that she would want to know Lizzy,” Jane pointed out. “Whatever could she have meant by saying you are the talk of the ton ?”

“She must be thinking of someone else.”

“But she knew our home was Longbourn.”

“Truly, I cannot account for it, Jane. I hope Aunt Gardiner is right and nothing comes of it. I have no desire to be the object of anyone’s curiosity.”

She frowned as her own phrasing made her think of the stares that had been directed her way as she talked to Mr Darcy outside Gunter’s, and before that, in Mrs Appleby’s shop—but this could not possibly be related.

She had been identified at the dressmaker’s only because the woman had seen her walking with Mr Darcy and recognised her; nobody actually knew her name.

Indeed, the only way anyone could know it was if Mr Darcy had told them, and she could not believe he would have willingly owned to such a lowly connexion.

Certainly not if the haste with which he had decamped from the tea shop when her mother arrived was any indication.

No—whatever Mrs Michelson had heard whispered about her must be unconnected to Mr Darcy.

“I am sure you are not,” Mrs Gardiner agreed. “It is likely nothing at all. I will say, though, that a ball hardly sounds like a punishment. Would a dance not cheer you a little, Jane?”

“I am in no peculiar need of cheering,” Jane replied with a mild note of admonishment in her tone.

Elizabeth looked at her sister. It was true that she did seem to be recovering from her disappointment at last, joining in with more engagements and with more determined energy—but she had yet to fully return to her former sanguinity.

It occurred to Elizabeth that a London ball might be just the place for Jane to meet somebody who could more effectively take her mind off Mr Bingley.

“Well, I am never averse to being cheered,” she declared. “Notwithstanding my mysterious new infamy, I daresay, if an invitation is forthcoming, we should accept.”

To the astonishment of all, an invitation was, indeed, forthcoming.

The very next day, Mrs Michelson brought her friend Lady Staunton to wait upon them at Gracechurch Street.

She was nothing like Elizabeth had imagined, which was a woman as forceful in character as her friend, perhaps with a touch of that haughtiness that so often accompanied rank and wealth.

In fact, she was a quietly spoken woman with excellent manners and an evident desire to make herself pleasing.

“I understand you have been staying with Mr and Mrs Gardiner since just after Christmas,” she said to Jane and Elizabeth. “Have you enjoyed London so far?”

“I must admit to not having done very much,” Jane answered. “The weather has not been conducive to trips abroad. Lizzy is more adventurous than I, though, and has braved the cold more often.”

“Yes, I did hear that you had been out and about,” Lady Staunton said to Elizabeth.

“Well, I…I dislike inactivity,” she replied warily, unsure how Lady Staunton could possibly have heard anything about her.

“You enjoy dancing as well, I suppose?”

“Aye, very much.”

“You will put me to shame. I have always favoured pursuits that require minimal exertion.”

“Nobody could say your efforts at the pianoforte were minimal,” Mrs Michelson said, adding for everyone else’s benefit, “Lady Staunton is a true proficient.”

“You are too good, Mrs Michelson, but you have rather neatly proved my point. The necessity of sitting at the instrument for hours at a time, practising, is precisely why I favoured the pianoforte in the first place.”

“And precisely why my own performance is so wanting,” Elizabeth said.

Lady Staunton laughed delicately and, as the other ladies began a conversation about Jane’s accomplishments, said quietly to Elizabeth, “But you do play? You must perform at my ball in that case.”

Elizabeth considered how best to get out of doing anything of the sort, but Lady Staunton spoke before she thought of an excuse.

“I beg your pardon—I am getting ahead of myself. I have yet to invite you! But I hope you will come. And your family, of course, though it is you everybody is agog to meet.”

There it was again: the strange assertion that Elizabeth was somehow… somebody . “Pray, why do you believe anyone is agog to meet me?”

Lady Staunton smiled a somewhat bewildered smile and shook her head. “Your humility does you great credit, but I can boast no such decorum and therefore shall declare shamelessly that I should dearly like you to be there.”

“That is as Mrs Michelson said, but—and pardon me if I seem obtuse—I do not understand why.”

Lady Staunton leant a little closer to Elizabeth and spoke in a hushed voice.

“My husband, Sir Aubrey, and I only married at the end of last summer. This will be our first society ball. We did not expect it to be an affair of any great moment until Mr Darcy assured us of his attendance, guaranteeing us a far more esteemed event than we could ever have hoped for. To have you both there would be truly something.”

“Mr Darcy will be there?” Elizabeth blurted, unable to contain her consternation at the revelation that this was somehow to do with him.

“Why yes,” Lady Staunton replied. “He has been so wonderfully supportive ever since that unfortunate business a few years ago. I daresay you are familiar with it.”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“You are one of very few in that case.” She sighed heavily. “Some years back, Sir Aubrey was infamously used by a man connected with the Darcy family. The late Mr Darcy’s godson, I understand.”

“Mr Wickham?”

“Yes. You know him, then?”

“A little.”

“Then you know what he is capable of, and I need not be concerned that I will shock you. Sir Aubrey had only just been raised to his knighthood when they crossed paths. Thanks to Mr Wickham’s schemes, my husband lost almost everything and was left humiliated in the eyes of all his friends.”

Elizabeth could hardly keep pace with all the twists and turns of the conversation, but this was shocking indeed. It was another blow to Mr Wickham’s credibility, which was fast sinking in her estimation. “I am truly sorry to hear it.”

“Thank you. It is a thing of the past, I am happy to report—and with no little thanks to Mr Darcy. He pledged to support Sir Aubrey in society until his reputation was recovered, and he has been as good as his word.” She sucked in her breath suddenly and gave a nervous laugh.

“But I cannot believe I am trying to convince you of this! What will you think of me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…you do not need me to tell you what an excellent man Mr Darcy is, do you? You are clearly already well aware.”

Elizabeth shook her head firmly. “Madam, I cannot say this any clearer—there is no understanding between Mr Darcy and me. None at all.”

Lady Staunton sat back, looking chastened. “Forgive me, I should not have spoken so plainly when I know you have yet to acknowledge it openly.”

“No—no, there is nothing to acknowledge!”

Lady Staunton nodded, closing her eyes briefly to emphasise the indulgence she evidently believed she was bestowing.

“I do not blame you for wishing to keep it a secret. He is one of the most eligible men in the country. Your alliance will be talked about endlessly. But if I promise to say nothing about it, will you come? I should be eternally grateful, for such prestigious guests cannot but see my husband finally respected in the sphere to which he was rightfully raised.”

There was clearly no point in arguing; the woman was immoveable in her misapprehension.

The most obvious way to convince her would be to refuse the invitation, and yet…

Elizabeth looked at her aunt, still in happy conversation with Mrs Michelson, whose husband brought so much trade to Mr Gardiner’s business.

Then she looked at Jane, whose complexion was still ever-so-slightly pale and would most certainly benefit from an hour or two of dancing.

Refusing Lady Staunton would do neither of them any favours.

She had to wonder whether accepting could truly do that much harm. If Mr Darcy was to be there, she could simply pretend not to know him, as she had promised, and then nobody could continue to think them attached.

This logic did not eclipse the unexpected rush of anticipation she felt at the prospect of seeing him again.

She heard herself accept Lady Staunton’s invitation almost before she had decided to do so but found, as the room joined in with celebrating her decision, that she was not sorry for it.

She only began to doubt herself when the two visitors took their leave shortly afterwards, and Lady Staunton paused in the door to say, “And I absolutely insist that you play the pianoforte for us at some point in the evening. You will delight us all, I am sure.”

The door closed behind them, and Elizabeth exhaled heavily. “Something tells me I may come to seriously regret agreeing to this.”