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Mr Darcy sat comfortably ensconced in the plush furniture of Mr Bingley’s house in town and brushed the non-existent lint from the crisp crease in his trouser leg.

“It is not that I think anything is inherently wrong with being in trade. After all…” He dared not finish his sentence, but his friend had no such compunction.

“ After all, you are friends with the likes of me.”

“ Oh, really, Bingley.” The exasperation was evident. “I do know that the world is changing. I am not such a Luddite as you think.”

“ I do not think you a Luddite, Mr Darcy…” Caroline Bingley’s simpering tones always raised his hackles, but to show anything but civility would not be gentlemanly. “…only discerning.”

He was about to, God forbid, agree with Caroline when Bingley interrupted. “I just want you to go to the store. It really is a wonder. I can’t believe that you have never been.”

“ Charles is right, Mr Darcy. It is a wonder.”

“ For ladies, perhaps…”

“ Oh, really, Darcy. Selfridge has installed barber shops, a smoking room, even a firing range for the gentlemen. Please, come along… just to be sociable.”

Caroline was undoubtedly batting her eyelids at him, so he dared not look. “All right, I will go, but do not expect me to acquiesce to anything else.”

“ First steps are always the most difficult.” Caroline chimed in again and he had to meet her eye this time. Yes, batting her lashes, as he suspected. He rose from the overstuffed armchair.

“ All right then. Lead on.”

***

Life was full of irony, was it not? Elizabeth could feel the life drain out of her as she read through the list a second time.

Jane had been called back for an interview, but she hadn’t.

Who had the dream of working at Selfridges?

Who convinced her father that, as the two eldest, they could contribute to the waning family fortune?

Who wanted to live independently in London, beholden to no one?

Not Jane. Jane had come along for company, and now it was Jane who held the brass ring in her hand.

Now, here she was in the employment department anteroom at Selfridges as Jane’s companion and moral support.

Jane kept her voice to almost a whisper.

The oak-panelled waiting room was filled with other prospects.

The two of them sat, squeezed together with the other girls on one of the benches that lined the walls.

“No, Lizzy. I won’t do it. The plan all along was that we were to work together, not me alone. ”

“ It’s all right. Really. I will go along to Harrods or Owens or another place and find a position. You’ll see.”

“ But if you do that, you will have to live-in, and our plan to share a room will come to naught. I can’t afford a place on my own.”

“ You can always share with another girl from Selfridges and live with the Gardiners until you make arrangements. It can be done.” Lizzy listened to her own words as if someone else spoke them.

She wondered if her sister could detect the disappointment and artifice in her tone.

She was making a good argument but didn’t agree with it herself.

Then something occurred to her. “Just think, Jane. If you are employed here and do well, you could make a path for me later.” She was about to go on, when the door to the office swung open.

“ Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Mabel Cartwright, Miss…” That selfsame gentleman from their application process read the list aloud of those who were granted interviews. Jane threw a panicked glance at Lizzy.

“ It’s all right. Go on. I will wait for you here.”

Jane joined the line of excited young women with the air of someone attending a hanging. Elizabeth hoped her sister would pluck up her courage. This was but a minor setback. They would succeed.

Jane was inside an awfully long time. Elizabeth hoped it was a good sign. After all, how long did it take to say “no”? She had been ruminating on such thoughts when the office door opened again.

“ Is there a Miss Elizabeth Bennet here?”

“ Yes, yes, I am Elizabeth Bennet.”

“ Come with me, miss.”

***

Jane, indeed, was a loyal sister. She wouldn’t take a position if it didn’t include Lizzy, so there they were…

together. They had only been a week in their new positions as window dressers, and Elizabeth did not flatter herself that her and Jane’s talent were the reason they were not stuck behind a counter.

They were in window display because they were window display.

Again, she did not flatter herself. Jane was window display.

At first, it was disconcerting to have people on the street stop and stare at them as they opened the curtained window to evaluate the stage sets they had draped with fur-collared coats over Louis XIV chairs.

“ I feel like an animal in the zoo,” Jane whispered over to Lizzy as they propped up some spectacular hats—wide brimmed and teaming with ostrich feathers, black silk roses, and yards of ribbon. “I feel that it is I who am on display.”

“ Oh, you are, silly girl. You’re the most beautiful thing in this window.”

Jane gave Lizzy a shy smile and set a rather magnificent chapeau on an unseeing, unhearing mannequin head. “Wouldn’t you just love a hat like this?”

“ And where would I wear it? To the fish-and-chip shop?” They both laughed before the stern voice of Mr Goldsman called from inside the store.

“ This is not a vacation at the shore, ladies. Finish and come inside for further instruction. I am going out to look.” His flat, American accent gave his words extra emphasis

Lizzy made a face, imitating their supervisor, and Jane had to cover her mouth to suppress a giggle.

“ Come here, Jane, and look over the display. See if we can change anything before we are scolded.” Lizzy motioned her sister to the corner of the window to get a view of their work.

“ I think we’ve done a masterful job.” Jane folded her arms and gazed over the scene with satisfaction.

The window rivalled a room in a great house.

The walls were made of walnut wainscotting, papered in the latest mode, and hung with mirrors.

Antique tables, inlaid with ivory and mother of pearl and draped with fine fabric, displayed the most massive and fabulous hats and coats of the day.

Elizabeth walked across the length of the window and, after crouching down, adjusted the drape of a “casually thrown” exquisite wrap.

“There, that’s better. I do believe we are mastering this art, don’t you?

” As she turned to look at Jane, she noticed three people, two men and a woman, so close to the window that, if it wasn’t there, they could have reached up and touched the hem of Jane’s skirt.

One of the young men, slight build, tall, with light brown hair visible beneath his bowler hat, fixated on Jane.

He had one of those faces one might describe as angelic, with an open expression that betrayed every thought in his head.

The thought Lizzy saw now was that of complete and utter rapture.

Jane had captured another heart. “Don’t look now, but you have another admirer at your feet. ”

Jane turned suddenly, and the young man jumped back, jostling his companion.

The other man, not quite as tall, with piercing dark eyes and an intense expression, said something Elizabeth could not hear.

No doubt, his friend had tread upon his toe.

Jane looked down at her admirer and, of course, smiled.

He gazed up at her with a beatific expression.

They were both entranced for some moments.

His companions, however, were not so entranced. The woman, who seemed to be looking down her nose even as she tilted her head upward, muttered something. The intense young man fell silent but scowled. Lizzy, who always was in the mood for mischief, called out to their supervisor.

“ Would you mind if we join you outside, Mr Goldsman? You can show us then if you want anything changed.”

“ Absolutely. Good idea. Come outside, ladies.”

This exchange broke the spell. Jane stared, wide-eyed, at Lizzy. “What are you doing?”

“ You want to meet him, don’t you? Come along.” Elizabeth took Jane by the hand, and they slipped off.

***

“ Really, Charles, what do you think you’re doing?”

Mr Bingley had his sister by the elbow and hastened her inside.

Mr Darcy smiled in spite of himself. “She really is a beauty, Charles, but wait until she opens her mouth. No doubt a cockney twang will pop out.”

“ I highly doubt it. There is some quality about her…” Bingley hurried Caroline through the doors, with Darcy close on his heels. They soon reached the interior wall of the window, but the access doors were closed, and there was no one about except other shoppers and the girls behind the counters.

“ Damn and blast,” Bingley said impatiently under his breath.

“ Really, your language.” Caroline tossed her head. “You forget yourself… and your manners. We are here to show Mr Darcy about. Have you forgotten?”

Bingley stood turning this way and that. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Darcy sighed. “Come along. There must be other wonders here for you to show me.”

Caroline was already distracted. “Oh, look at those divine gloves. Come along, gentlemen.” As the two men reluctantly followed, they were suddenly affronted by a rather short, but impeccably dressed gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair parted down the middle, and he sported a rather prodigious moustache. He offered his hand to Bingley.

“ Charles, how nice to see you. Come to poke about my little shop?” He had an American accent and exuded energy.

“ Little shop, indeed. You are comical. Harry, may I introduce my sister, Caroline Bingley and my friend, Mr Darcy. Caroline, Darcy, this is Harry Selfridge.”

***

Elizabeth’s scheming had come to naught.

When they arrived outside to view the window, the trio they had observed only moments before was gone.

Jane looked about for a moment, then riveted her attention on the designer, Mr Goldsman.

She appeared to give him all her attention, but Elizabeth knew better.

She was disappointed that the young man had disappeared.

Mr Goldsman approved their work, as did a throng of onlookers.

“I do believe you captured my idea, Miss Bennets. We needn’t fiddle with it.

Let us look at the next display. We will begin changing that one out tomorrow.

” He always referred to them as the “Miss Bennets” as if they were a set of bookends.

“We’ll get a few of the fellas to move the heavier things. ”

As they returned to the store, a commotion near the glove counter caught Lizzy’s attention.

So, that’s where they got to. The hubbub was caused by Mr Selfridge himself.

It appeared to Elizabeth that he knew Jane’s admirer quite well.

She elbowed her sister. “Looks like you might be seeing more of that young man of yours.” She teased everyone, and poor Jane was no exception.

“ Oh, stop. He’s certainly not ‘my young man.’” Jane blushed.

“ His two companions seem rather… what’s the word I am looking for?”

“ Reserved?”

“ I was going to say ‘pompous.”

“ Oh, no. You misjudge them, I’m sure. He would never have mean-spirited companions.”

Lizzy laughed and that caught the attention of their supervisor. “Are you coming, ladies? I have plans to show you for the window we are dressing tomorrow. My, my, you are distracted today.”

***

“ So, you see, Mr Darcy, being a member of our board of directors has advantages for us both. For you, generous compensation for your services, and for us, the benefit of your advice and counsel.” They were sitting in the Palm Court Restaurant, inside Selfridges, where Mr Selfridge had invited them to lunch.

The atmosphere was very informal, which, oddly, didn’t put Darcy at his ease as the conversation had taken a wild and interesting turn.

Darcy squinted at Harry Selfridge in disbelief. “Whatever could I contribute to your enterprise? I know nothing of commerce, let alone retail commerce.”

“ Oh, now, Darcy, don’t sell yourself short,” Bingley chimed in.

Darcy threw him a questioning look. Darcy knew he was being led down the primrose path, but as yet could not put his finger on exactly what it was this Selfridge fellow wanted of him.

Bingley also seemed a bit desperate for him to take Selfridge’s offer.

He could certainly use an additional four thousand pounds a year that Selfridge’s salary would afford him.

The lot of a landowner and head of a long and distinguished line had not been a happy one of late.

For so much money, though, there must be something the two of them were not telling him.

Bingley was making alternately encouraging and frantic faces at him.

“ Let us just say that a man of distinction such as yourself gives an enterprise such as ours a certain savoir faire , if you get my meaning.”

Ah-ha. It became abundantly clear. Mr Henry Gordon Selfridge wanted to avail himself of Darcy’s influence among his peers in the landed gentry and the aristocracy, his connections, and most of all, of his good name—all for the generous price of four thousand pounds per year.

A generation ago, he would have turned the man down flatly and stormed out of his dining establishment never to return.

Now, with tenant farmers, the magnificent but aging manor house, and of course, his future and Georgiana’s and, in fact, the future of the Darcy name and all it entailed to consider, he paused.

Entwining his fingers and pressing them to his lips, he chose his words carefully.

“ I am intrigued with your proposition, Mr Selfridge…”

“ Harry, please….”

Ugh, these Americans and their informality. “Harry, then. Can you give me some time to consider your offer?”

Selfridge’s face lit up and he literally jumped out of his seat and proffered his hand.

“Well, that’s good to hear, Darcy. Very good.

” While still shaking Darcy’s hand, he grinned at Bingley.

It occurred to him then that this was not an accidental meeting.

He was angry with Bingley, but he would not show it now.

Selfridge continued. “When you finish your lunch, please feel free to walk about the store, ask the staff any questions you like, come to our meetings, and see how we operate. I’m sure you’ll be impressed with the way we do things around here.

We make use of our employees’ talent. Yes, we do.

Now, I have to be going.” Selfridge propelled himself out of his seat, his repast half eaten, leaving a stunned Darcy and grinning Bingley behind.