Page 6 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)
Chapter Three
Elizabeth smoothed her skirts and glanced once more at the ornate clock on the mantelpiece.
The Earl and Countess of Matlock were expected at any moment, and despite the frequent assurances from Darcy that his aunt and uncle would adore her, she could not quite quell the flutter of nerves in her stomach.
Lady Matlock’s letters had been unfailingly kind, but receiving the formidable countess in her capacity as Mrs. Darcy, mistress of Pemberley and Darcy House, rather than merely as a guest at Jane’s wedding, carried a weight of expectation that Elizabeth found surprisingly daunting.
“You need not be anxious,” Darcy said quietly, coming to stand beside her at the drawing room window. “My aunt has already declared herself enchanted with you.”
“I am not anxious,” Elizabeth protested, though she feared the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. “Merely... contemplative.”
Darcy’s lips curved in the subtle half-smile that still made her heart quicken, even after months of marriage. “Indeed. And I suppose your hands are clasped so tightly merely to prevent them wandering about the room?”
Elizabeth glanced down at her white-knuckled fingers and deliberately relaxed them. “Very well. Perhaps I am a little concerned about meeting your aunt properly. She is, after all, accustomed to moving in the highest circles of society, and I am still learning the intricacies of my new position.”
“You have managed splendidly thus far,” Darcy reminded her. “And Lady Matlock is not like Lady Catherine. She values wit and intelligence far more than rigid adherence to rules of precedence.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, Harrison appeared at the drawing room door. “The Earl and Countess of Matlock,” he announced with perfect gravity, stepping aside to admit their distinguished guests.
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and moved forward beside her husband to greet their visitors.
Lord Matlock entered first, a tall, distinguished gentleman whose bearing immediately proclaimed his aristocratic heritage, though his eyes held a warmth that reminded Elizabeth of his son, Richard.
Behind him came Lady Matlock, a woman of medium height with lively eyes that assessed Elizabeth with obvious interest rather than judgement.
Her gown was fashionable without being ostentatious, her manner dignified yet approachable.
“Nephew,” Lord Matlock greeted Darcy with evident affection, clasping his hand firmly. “You are looking well. Marriage clearly agrees with you.”
“Indeed it does, Uncle,” Darcy replied, his expression softening as he turned toward Elizabeth. “I have Elizabeth to thank for my present state of bliss.”
Lord Matlock bowed over Elizabeth’s hand with the easy grace of a man accustomed to moving in the highest circles.
“Mrs. Darcy. A pleasure to meet you again. We have just spent the most delightful two weeks with our new daughter, your sister Jane, and I have been very much looking forward to getting you know you better too.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Elizabeth replied, finding her voice steadier than she had feared it might be. “It is an honour to welcome you to our home.”
“Oh, enough formality,” Lady Matlock declared, stepping forward to take both of Elizabeth’s hands in her own. “We are family now, my dear, and I have been longing to become better acquainted with the woman who managed what so many failed to accomplish: capturing my nephew’s heart.”
There was such genuine warmth in the countess’s manner that Elizabeth felt her anxiety begin to dissipate. “I fear it was less a matter of strategy than of fortunate circumstance, Lady Matlock.”
“Margaret, please, when we are in private,” the countess insisted. “And I suspect there was more to it than mere circumstance. Darcy has always been most discerning in his judgement of character.”
The conversation flowed easily as they moved to sit near the fire, tea was ordered, and initial pleasantries exchanged.
Elizabeth found herself charmed by Lady Matlock’s blend of aristocratic confidence and genuine warmth.
Though she clearly possessed all the dignity one would expect of a countess, there was nothing intimidating in her manner.
“Now,” Lady Matlock said once tea had been served and the initial pleasantries concluded, “You have quite the challenge before you this Season, Elizabeth. Three young ladies to introduce to society simultaneously? That would tax even the most experienced matron.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “I confess I feel somewhat unprepared for the task, particularly as my own experience of London society is limited.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Matlock replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You have intelligence and good judgement, which count for far more than mere familiarity with the rules of precedence. Besides which, you have me to guide you through the more treacherous waters.”
“And I am most grateful for your assistance,” Elizabeth said sincerely.
Lord Matlock, who had been conversing quietly with Darcy about estate matters, turned his attention to the ladies.
“My wife has been quite busy on your behalf already,” he informed Elizabeth with a fond glance at the countess.
“I believe she has half the Season planned before the first invitation has even arrived.”
“Not quite half,” Lady Matlock corrected with a smile, “but I have taken the liberty of securing several key invitations. Lady Jersey has promised cards for Almack’s, which is essential for any young lady making her debut.
And the Duchess of Richmond has assured me that all three of your charges will be welcome at her ball in May. ”
Elizabeth felt a rush of gratitude for the countess’s efficient assistance. “That is most kind of you, Lady Matlock. I had wondered how to go about securing vouchers for Almack’s. I understand they are notoriously difficult to obtain.”
“Margaret, please,” the countess reminded her gently. “And yes, the patronesses can be quite selective. Fortunately, Lady Jersey and I were at school together long ago, and she owes me a favour or two for keeping my lips sealed regarding some of her more, ah, adventurous escapades.“ She winked.
Elizabeth could not help but laugh. “How fortuitous!”
“Indeed. Now, speaking of invitations...” Lady Matlock glanced toward Harrison, who had appeared discreetly at the drawing room door again. “I believe that may be the afternoon post.”
Harrison stepped forward, presenting a silver salver laden with envelopes to Elizabeth. “The day’s correspondence, madam.”
“Thank you, Harrison.” Elizabeth accepted the salver, somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer volume of invitations it contained.
News of their arrival in London had spread quickly through society, and it seemed that every hostess of note was eager to secure the presence of the Darcys and their young charges at their entertainments.
“Goodness,” she murmured, sorting through the envelopes. “I had not anticipated quite such an enthusiastic response.” There was already quite a pile on her desk that she had not had the slightest idea how to begin whittling down.
“The return of Mr. Darcy to society after his marriage would create interest in any case,” Lady Matlock observed. “Add to that the curiosity about his new wife, the coming out of his sister, and the unexpected presence of Miss de Bourgh, and you have all the ingredients for a social sensation.”
“I see.” Elizabeth felt her confidence waver slightly under the weight of this observation. The prospect of being the object of such intense scrutiny was somewhat daunting.
Noting her expression, Lady Matlock reached out to pat her hand reassuringly. “You will manage beautifully, my dear. Now, let us sort through these invitations. Not all of them will be worth accepting.”
“I have quite a few others,” Elizabeth admitted, “which I have not looked through yet…”
“Bring them all, my dear, and let me help you.”
For the next half hour, Elizabeth and Lady Matlock pored over the invitations, with the countess providing invaluable commentary on each hostess and event. Some were immediately set aside as unsuitable or undesirable.
“Lady Harrington’s musical evenings are invariably tedious,” Lady Matlock declared, placing one invitation firmly in the rejection pile. “The performers are mediocre, the refreshments inadequate, and the company dull beyond endurance. Decline with thanks.”
Others were marked for acceptance without hesitation. “Lord and Lady Holland’s literary salon is not to be missed,” the countess advised. “The conversation is stimulating, the guests carefully selected, and Holland House itself is worth seeing. Accept with pleasure.”
Some required more careful consideration.
“The Countess of Lonsdale’s ball,” Lady Matlock mused, tapping the elegant invitation thoughtfully.
“Lavish, well-attended, and she will certainly have invited several eligible gentlemen. However, her parties tend to continue until dawn, which might be overly taxing for Miss de Bourgh.”
“Perhaps we might attend but arrange to leave at a reasonable hour?” Elizabeth suggested.
“An excellent compromise,” Lady Matlock approved. “Now, this one from Lady Cowper... oh, most definitely accept. Her gatherings are select but lively, perfect for young ladies making their debut.”
They had nearly completed their sorting when the door opened to admit Mrs. Jenkinson, who advanced into the room with her usual blend of obsequiousness and determination.
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh, preparing herself for what would undoubtedly be yet another tedious assertion of Mrs. Jenkinson’s authority over Anne’s affairs.
“Forgive the interruption,” Mrs. Jenkinson began once the usual greetings had been exchanged. “I wished to present Lady Matlock with some information that may be of assistance.”