Page 21 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter
Darcy held his peace and tried to scowl at his cousin.
It never worked; Richard had the cunning ability to read his mind.
A whistle escaped the colonel’s lips before he said, “For what it is worth, you are wrong in that assumption. She is very aware of you, where your stoic person is situated and what little you mumble in your chosen corner. An apology would not go amiss after your rude, dismissive remarks. You know, forgive me is not enough. You must do something special to prove your affection.”
“She has been a champion and has not uttered one complaint about the hurried simple affair of our wedding. I have ordered her a new carriage—there was no time before the wedding. Neither did I have time to order her a custom wedding ring. She has to wear an old ring I inherited from my grandmother.”
“She loved that ring!” Richard protested.
“She did, but I had imagined I would design it myself. Something that reflected her personality,” Darcy admitted.
“So, what carriage did you order? A dormeuse [5] ?”
Darcy scowled at his cousin, who needed to redirect his sordid thoughts.
“What? I only thought you may need a carriage with a bed fitted so that you could sleep more easily on those long and tedious journeys back and forth between London and Pemberley.”
Richard threw up his hands in mock surrender when Darcy’s scowl only deepened at that remark.
“By all means, buy her expensive gifts, but a lady like your wife cannot be bought. If you do not know what to do, ask her. What does she want from marriage? What are her hopes and dreams? Does she prefer town or the country? A play or a museum? Talk to her! You are so tongue-tied when she is about, but you need to practise.”
“Thank you, Richard. I owe you because your admonishment just gave me a wonderful idea.”
“Think nothing of it, Darcy, though I am glad you owe me because I have a favour to ask. A big one that you will question and fail to understand, but I shall ask it of you in any case. I beg you not to put the announcement of Bingley and Lady Jane’s engagement in the paper.
I have my reasons, something I cannot divulge at this particular time, but I hope that the extortionists will become impatient and make a mistake.
I am aware that it is a high-risk game, but I have an inkling about something here, in London. ”
“Why would you not want the engagement to be known?”
“Bingley is your dear friend, Darcy, but even you must see that he has a larger capacity for admiration than cool judgment. He has proved to be a fool in love, or should I say, in and out of love? In addition, he is only one generation removed from trade. He is not good enough for Lady Jane, despite his vast fortune in the bank.”
“One might think you have a personal interest in the lady,” Darcy accused his cousin.
“An interest you as her brother should certainly take seriously. Would you consider Bingley as a spouse for Georgiana?”
Darcy preferred not to consider this turn of events at this particular moment. It was food for thought he needed to address at another time. Instead of answering Richard’s question, he changed the subject.
“With a population of more than a million and an abundance of rookeries and gaming-hells, how are you going to find Georgiana?”
“Have faith in me, Darcy. I would not ask this of you had I not thought I could find her. Give me a few days. You have nothing to lose.”
“It is no ordinary pickpockets we are after,” Darcy warned.
“Do you not think I know that? No, I am not looking in a rookery. The areas I have my suspicions about are not in the disreputable parts of town. You will have to be patient, though. I am loath to level these kinds of accusations against a person of rank if my suppositions prove to be incorrect.”
“You have a particular suspect in mind?” Darcy enquired.
“I do, but I must leave it at that for the moment. Has it occurred to you that it is strange the kidnappers have demanded no money?”
Darcy pondered incessantly on his way home. His fear for Georgiana was ever-present, but in addition, he wondered whether the carriage he had ordered for Elizabeth’s wedding present had been a good idea. No, he could not regret giving Elizabeth what was her due.
He must stop at Darcy House to collect his correspondence before he joined his wife at Bennet House. A musical soiree sounded the least of evils if he were to appear at an event with his wife.
When he entered, Bennet House was quiet. The residents had already retired for the night. He undressed stealthily in his wife’s dressing room and approached the bed where Elizabeth’s still form was breathing evenly. She must be asleep. He eased his way under the covers, careful not to wake her.
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Lady Jersey’s musicale
Darcy’s massive person weaved its way forwards. As long as his wife stayed in his wake, she would make it safely to her seat without having to speak to anyone.
Elizabeth was not shy of society or conversation, but recent events had made him even less capable of mustering the necessary cheer. He understood the need for keeping up appearances, which was why he had requested they attend Lady Jersey’s musicale.
The room was dimly lit to create an ethereal atmosphere of mystery and romance. It did make avoiding introductions a little easier as they wove their way between the seats, conscious of not being tripped up by the protruding leg of a chair or a person.
Performing tonight was the renowned Italian opera singer Angelica Catalina, who had escaped Napoleon’s captivating admiration in Paris in favour of London in 1806. Ironically, she had dressed as a nun, a disguise which could hardly have been less fitting.
Her fame had preceded her among the ton.
She was currently performing at the King’s Theatre in Haymarket as Susanna in Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro with tremendous success.
Lady Jersey had been fortunate indeed to secure an exclusive evening with a selection of arias.
But then again, few people dared to deny the influential Lady Jersey—not even the exotic opera singer.
Signorina Catalina bore a striking resemblance to Elizabeth with her curly hair, large dark eyes, and elegant nose.
Even the lively expression was duplicated, though no amount of powder and rouge could conceal that she was more than a decade older.
Darcy was captivated and kept comparing the two, his wife always emerging victorious.
He was lost in thought as to why Elizabeth’s countenance resembled the Italian.
Could she have Italian ancestry? He must remember to ask her as he knew little of her mother’s side of the family.
Signorina Catalina’s fame was by no means undeserved.
He was enthralled from the moment her full, rich, and magnificent three octave soprano floated across the room.
She had quite possibly the most beautiful voice he had ever heard.
Music tended to bind him into a trance-like state of oblivion that he relished at the moment.
Letting go of all his concerns and just being in the present was one of the reasons he enjoyed Georgiana and Elizabeth’s performances so much. In addition to the love he felt for the two most important ladies in his life.
The short hour she performed was over much too quickly, jolting him out of his reverie.
“Did you enjoy the performance, Elizabeth?”
“Oh yes, though I doubt I enjoyed it as much as you.”
She smiled teasingly, but the amusement was not reflected in her eyes. She was exhausted, and he had dragged her to a musicale. He was an ogre.
“We should leave early tonight to allow you to retire. You look tired.”
Elizabeth’s breath hitched, and he frowned.
She was about to reply when Lady Jersey swooped in and whisked her away to be introduced to the magnificent Angelica Catalina.
Lady Jersey was not a lady to be gainsaid because she simply did not listen.
The opportunity to be the first to entertain and introduce the new Mrs Darcy was too tempting for her to forgo.
Darcy was left behind to fend for himself amongst a throng of gentlemen, each wanting to wish him joy upon his recent stumble into the parson’s mousetrap. He cast his wife a longing look as her lithe person was hauled off into a crush of tittering ladies he had absolutely no inclination to join.
He shook hand after hand and was slapped on the back, served with an abundance of thinly veiled innuendo.
It was what he hated the most about these things; even though he would not mind some advice, the information he sought was not what was delivered.
He could not very well ask Admiral St Vincent how soon one could importune one’s wife after taking her maidenhead or enquire of Lord Argyll whether marital relations should be contained to one’s own home.
He had questions in need of contemplation, being married for only three days, yet he had no one to whom he could make such private enquiries.
Richard and Bingley were the only two men he could imagine sharing such intimate thoughts with, but neither of them was married.
“I would have guessed you would choose the older sister, Darcy. She is a classical beauty with a serene disposition. Did you accidentally enter the wrong chamber when you ruined her?” Lord Ruther was exclaiming in a failed attempt to pry under the disguise of levity.
“No, you would not want a serene wife, Darcy, you will be much happier with the vivacious Lady Elizabeth. Like ebony and ivory those two sisters. Excellent quality. They are both exceptionally beautiful yet so different in both appearance and disposition.”
“Thank you, Mr Murray, I am quite content with my choice.”
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