Page 57 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Matlock House
Curzon Street
Elizabeth Darcy, with her husband at her side, stepped into the large front vestibule of Matlock House and looked around gravely. She had been here many times in the last five and twenty years, of course, for dinners and parties and balls, but the familiar rooms appeared rather different now.
“Elizabeth, Darcy!” the Countess of Matlock cried out, hurrying over and pulling Elizabeth into her arms. “I am so very glad to see you!”
Elizabeth returned the embrace with fervor and then stepped back to inspect her younger sister carefully.
Mary was naturally dressed in black since she was in mourning for her brother-in-law, the eighth Earl of Matlock, who had died six weeks previously.
Mary looked well enough, Elizabeth thought; tired but certainly not overwrought.
It was not as if she or Richard had been particularly close to Zachary or his wife, now the Dowager Countess of Matlock.
Elizabeth had met the dowager countess many times, but the two ladies, while perfectly courteous, had very little in common.
“I am sorry we only reached London yesterday,” Elizabeth said apologetically. “Our girls were still recovering from the influenza, and we wished to keep them at Pemberley until the last possible moment.”
“Of course, I understand,” Mary said warmly. “Are your children at Darcy House, then?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, and Darcy, hitherto silent, asked, “Is Richard here?”
Mary blew out a breath and managed a smile. “No, he left for the coronation very early to be certain that he would make it to Westminster Abbey on time.”
Elizabeth blinked and looked at a large eight-day clock standing nearby. “Surely the queen has not even left yet for the coronation, though it is true the crowds are immense. It took us at least twice as long as usual to arrive here from Darcy House.”
“That was exactly why he left so early, because he was afraid of being held up by the crowds,” Mary said with a nod. “Now, please come along and enjoy some tea with me in the east sitting room, will you not?”
They obeyed and entered the room in question to find the Dowager Countess of Matlock, the former Lady Aurelia, dressed in black bombazine from head to toe and seated in the best seat by the fire, her patrician face stiff.
“Countess,” Darcy said with a bow. “My heartfelt condolences on the death of your husband.”
“Thank you, Darcy,” she replied coolly and nodded at Elizabeth. “Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth curtsied. “Countess, I too am grieved by your loss.”
“Thank you,” the dowager countess said and rose to her feet. “I will see you at dinner later, I daresay.”
She trod out of the room, and Elizabeth watched her compassionately.
She found the dowager countess to be a tiresome creature, but she did pity her.
Richard’s brother Zachary had taken ill and died of pneumonia quite unexpectedly, and he had sired three daughters and no sons.
Thus, the former Richard Fitzwilliam was now the Earl of Matlock, and Mary was his lady, and their eldest son was now Viscount Stanton, while the former countess was relegated to a mere dowager.
It was a bizarre turn of events, but it occurred to Elizabeth that their mother would have been very pleased.
“What is it, Lizzy?” Mary asked, gazing at her curiously.
Elizabeth smiled and said, “I was thinking how excited Mamma would have been to have her daughter a countess and her grandson a viscount.”
“She would have loved it,” Mary agreed. Mrs. Bennet had passed away in her sleep some five years earlier but had, at least, lived long enough to chortle confidently to anyone who would listen that her son-in-law Richard would be an earl someday and her grandson as well.
The door opened and two maids, dressed in black dresses in honor of their deceased master, entered with tea and milk, and Elizabeth and Darcy sat down and watched as Mary expertly poured tea for them.
“How are you truly doing, Mary?” Elizabeth asked as she accepted her cup, and Mary blew out a breath and said, “I am well enough. I knew this day would come given that Zachary never sired a son, but I had hoped we would have longer. Richard is worn to the bone with business matters associated with the earldom, and of course the queen’s coronation so soon after Zachary’s death is an extra complication.
Not that I regret the timing of the coronation.
I believe we are all in agreement that England benefited when King William lived long enough that his niece attained her eighteenth birthday. ”
Elizabeth sighed in assent at this, and her husband said, “I am not nearly as engaged in politics as the Matlocks, but I am confident that Queen Victoria will rule far better on her own than under the direction of her mother and Sir John Conroy.”
“Indeed,” Mary agreed. “But enough of politics. I hope that you are comfortable with our planned gathering here this evening? Not a party, precisely, as my brother-in-law died so recently and we are in mourning, but I would greatly enjoy seeing all my sisters and brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews, and Lady Lynley as well. The back of this house faces out toward Green Park, and there are fireworks planned for tonight.”
“Our daughters and many of our nieces plan to be here, yes,” Elizabeth said, “though our sons and most of our nephews will, I think, be wandering Hyde Park tonight as part of the celebrations associated with the coronation.”
Mary grinned and said, “Yes, our boys will be there too. I understand that it will be a truly remarkable experience, and while I would not wish to be in the midst of such a crush, I have given leave to our sons to enjoy themselves. They were never very close to our uncle Zachary, after all, and I hope and pray we will have many decades before another coronation.”
“I agree entirely,” Elizabeth said. “And I expect that we will have a pleasant time here as well.”
***
Hyde Park
Later
Thomas had, in his five and twenty years of life, been part of a great many squeezes and crushes, which were the hallmark of a successful hostess.
Rubbing shoulders and arms, backs, and pockets with crowds was nothing new to him.
This, however, was such a press as he had never seen, even at the races, even at the markets.
It was as though the very population of London had quadrupled overnight, and the grand old town was teeming with such a sea of humanity like never before.
This was partially thanks to the new railways, which allowed far faster and easier travel than had been possible even a decade previously.
Thomas glanced about, making sure Elias and Josiah were close by.
They were younger than he, and it was his responsibility to see to it that they did not fall afoul of the more unsavory characters that such a crowd inevitably drew.
Both of his brothers were within a few feet, wide eyes taking in the incredible sights, both sticking close to each other and to him.
Around them, various male cousins milled about.
His aunts had, almost to a one, also permitted or even encouraged their sons to attend the Coronation Fair.
Only young Isaac, but ten years old, was missing, as his mother, Lady Georgiana Lynley, had wisely refused to let him come out with only his older cousins to keep a dubiously attentive eye on him.
Thomas was very glad not to have charge of a child in this massive crowd.
One could hardly take a single step without being jostled, while bands played loudly around every corner, and the air was rife with the smells of cooking food and baked pastries and sweaty, unwashed bodies.
Men and women laughed and shouted and called to one another and devoured sausages and cakes and emptied bottles and cups of drink, while grubby urchins slipped eel-like through the crowd and vendors hawked their wares at the top of healthy lungs.
The cousins’ hands were greasy with their repast as they paused by a Punch and Judy booth, laughing as a comical crocodile puppet was chased away by several harsh whacks by the cackling Punch.
They did not linger long at the puppet booth, for eighteen-year-old Edward, restless and eager as his mother Lydia in her youth and lingering on the edges of the group, saw something else that caught his eye and hared away with a cry.
Thomas touched Josiah’s arm to get his attention and darted after their younger cousin.
To his relief, all that had caught Edward’s eye was a man and his small mutt dog doing tricks to laughter and applause from the crowds.
Edward laughed in delight as the dog balanced a ball on its nose, and Thomas smiled, watching the way the dog’s scruffy tail wagged with joy and his master’s praise.
Today was a good day, as full of joy as it was people, and Thomas was grateful that his parents, despite their standing, had presented no objection to their sons joining the masses of the common people.
Many of the sons and other close relatives of the Peers, who had been present at the Coronation itself, would not deign to join the Fair that had been set up for those they saw as the rabble.
Thomas, heir of Pemberley, had accompanied his mother on visits to the tenants and sat in the study with his father as Mr. Darcy saw to the financial aspect of their dependents’ needs.
His parents had taught him to have a rather unusual respect for the simple, hard-working men and women who made up the everyday folk of their great land.
***
Matlock House
All of the former Bennet daughters were present and accompanied by their husbands.
This in itself would have presented a nearly even balance in gentlemen and ladies, but all the families had their daughters with them as well, whilst their sons were out gallivanting about the Fair set up in Hyde Park.
Only Georgiana’s young son represented the male faction of the next generation.