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It wasn’t long before Mr Bingley was a regular customer at Selfridges.

He would position himself at a counter whilst Jane was arranging a palm on the floor or hanging a banner from a balcony.

After causing Jane a reprimand for “fraternizing with the customers”, he kept a respectful distance and didn’t speak to her, but Lizzy observed them exchanging glances and knew that Jane was encouraging him.

A fortnight later, Jane and Lizzy walked out of the staff entrance of Selfridges after closing, Mr Bingley stood there waiting like a stage door Johnny.

After pleasantries were exchanged, he came right to the point, asking both of them to dinner at his house in Kensington.

“ I’ll send the motor around for you around seven, if that’s all right.”

It was fortunate he suggested his motorcar since Lizzy didn’t think it wise for them to take a bus or the Underground all dressed to the nines—or as dressed to the nines as they could manage. Jane shot her a thrilled expression and then answered.

“ Oh, that would be lovely, thank you. Oh…” Jane began to fumble in her handbag. “You’ll need our address.”

Elizabeth pulled a card out of her bag handily and gave it to him.

“ Elizabeth Bennet, Suffragette, 14 Candlewick Street Ward, Cheapside.”

As he looked it over, Lizzy waited for his reaction. She didn’t want to spoil Jane’s budding romance, but it was better he knew of her involvement in the movement.

“ I see you have a business card, Miss Elizabeth. How very modern.” He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a hint of a smile crossed his face.

Perhaps he wasn’t taking her very seriously.

“So, Friday at seven, then… so looking forward to it.” He took Jane’s gloved hand and raised it to his lips, and then he was gone.

***

Mr Goldsman was slightly perturbed with Jane on that Friday afternoon.

The entire day she was utterly distracted.

Lizzy tried to catch Jane’s mistakes, but sometimes she just couldn’t manage it as she had her own work to see to.

By the time they were finished for the day, Jane could hardly contain her excitement.

When they finally arrived home, they began their preparations for the evening.

At their mother’s suggestion, they’d brought along gowns that Lizzy was sure they would never wear in the city, due to their status as young working women.

For once, Lizzy was glad to have heeded her mother’s advice.

Jane’s was a gold affair that showed off her bare shoulders, and was decorated with a lace trim and puff sleeves.

Lizzy’s was a sapphire blue that her mother insisted set her eyes off beautifully.

Her shoulders peeked between a strap and puff sleeves.

Her mother insisted the hobble skirts that were all the rage were, in fact, stupid and both gowns flared at the bottom.

Jane’s auburn hair shown like a perfect halo as she dressed it in front of the mirror.

Not a strand was out of place. Lizzy deferred to her ministrations regarding her own coiffure, as her talents lay elsewhere, certainly not in hair dressing.

They both had matching hats with ostrich feathers that Jane insisted they buy from their place of employment.

After all, they got a discount. Standing before the mirror, Lizzy thought they looked quite lovely.

“ I’m glad you insisted on the hats, Jane. At least we won’t embarrass ourselves in front of the toffs.”

“ Oh, Lizzy.” Jane shifted her hat slightly to the right. “We could be considered toffs as well. Our father is a gentleman, you might remember.”

Lizzy laughed. “We’ll see if we are invited into their inner sanctum.” She put her arm around her sister’s shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. “Don’t be too disappointed if the rest of the party doesn’t welcome us as much as your Mr Bingley.”

Jane sighed. “It’s a shame we couldn’t invite your Mr Wickham to come along with us.”

“ He’s hardly my Mr Wickham. We’ve been dancing a few times, and he’s amusing, but…”

“ But you’re not in love with him.”

“ Oh, goodness. You do rush things along. No, hardly. He is intriguing and has a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“ He seems a bit dangerous to me.” Jane straightened her wrap.

Lizzy snickered. “Perhaps that’s why I like him.”

Before they knew it, the bell sounded, and a driver escorted them into the rear seat of a large, highly polished black motorcar.

The driver sat in the semi-open cab, while they were safe in the back enclosed by glass, metal, and cushioned leather seats.

Almost the entire boardinghouse were on the steps or leaning out of windows to see them off.

It was quite a spectacular scene, and one that Lizzy was equally enjoying and embarrassed by.

Still, it was part of the adventure she craved, and now, thanks to Jane, she was having it.

Mr Bingley’s house was one of many in a row of white stone attached houses with grand porticoes and black iron gates.

As they entered, the butler greeted them and showed them into the drawing room.

Most conversation ceased as they entered, and many turned to gape at them. Bingley sprang towards them instantly.

“ Oh, Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth, how good of you to come. You look lovely.” The last sentence was said to them both, but Mr Bingley had eyes only for Jane.

He led them into the room among the guests.

“This is my sister, Miss Caroline Bingley.” The young woman’s mouth appeared as if she had just bitten into a lemon, but she managed a forced smile as she extended her hand. “And this is my friend, Mr Darcy.”

Jane extended her hand and a smile in this man’s direction, but Elizabeth was taken aback for a moment.

She remembered him and Mr Bingley’s sister.

They had been outside the window that day at Selfridges.

What she remembered most, though, was what Mr Wickham had told her of his reduced circumstances at the hand of a “Mr Darcy”.

“ Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy?” she asked as she extended her hand to him.

“ One and the same. Have you heard of me?” He smiled slightly, but it was his dark, brooding eyes that riveted her attention. What should she say?

“ Oh… everyone about town has heard of Mr Darcy.” It wasn’t very clever, but he seemed pleased with it. There were more introductions made: a Mr and Mrs Hurst. Mrs Hurst was Charles’s and Caroline’s sister. It promised to be an interesting evening.

With the Pimm’s cups finished, it was time to sit at table.

Mr Darcy offered his arm to Lizzy, and since all other arms were otherwise occupied, she took it.

He was quite gallant and careful of his manners, deferring to her and the other ladies in conversation.

The conversation, however, left Jane and herself out for the most part.

The group of them all seemed to know the same people and spent their days socializing with others of their class.

Mr Bingley, however, seemed to notice Jane’s silence and brought up the windows at Selfridges.

Lizzy was gratified. That Mr Darcy fellow was always looking at her so intently that she found it disconcerting and was grateful when his attention was directed elsewhere.

As Jane finished describing the next new masterpieces of window dressing to be unveiled for the Easter season, Caroline Bingley suddenly strung her proverbial bow and fired an arrow at Lizzy. “So tell us, Miss Bennet, have you ever had the chance to meet Emily Pankhurst herself?”

The entire party stopped chatting, in fact, stopped breathing for a stunned moment.

All attention turned to Lizzy. She hesitated, gathering her thoughts, and then answered truthfully.

“I have heard her speak many times, but unfortunately, have never had the privilege of speaking with her face-to-face. I hope I will someday.”

Caroline directed her attention at Mr Darcy for a moment, and then focused back on Lizzy. “You and your sister are not suffragists, are you? Surely not.”

“ You seem to have answered your own question,” Lizzy said handily. “Jane has not yet accompanied me to the meetings. I, however, am indeed a suffragette. In fact, I helped with the recent census protests.”

Mr Hurst blinked several times, rousing himself from a Madeira-induced doze. “Well then, you believe women should have the vote. Humph. Poppycock.”

“ I most certainly do, and why not? Many of us make our own way in the world, just as men do. Many of us are householders, or the primary source of income for a family. Why should a man who sits about at home while his wife works have suffrage and she does not? How fair is that?”

The voices were rising about the table, when in a soothing tone, Mr Darcy addressed her.

“I find that the role of men as the leaders in the country and the protectors of women is the natural order of things. Once the rules that have long held the Empire together are questioned, surely, we invite anarchy, don’t you think, Miss Bennet? ”

His tone, no doubt, was meant to have a calming effect, but it merely sounded arrogant and condescending.

If he meant to placate Lizzy, he had taken the wrong tack.

She threw a look over at her sister, who merely smiled and nodded slightly.

Lizzy had no intention of spoiling what might develop into a very suitable match for Jane, but she couldn’t let Mr Darcy’s opinion go unchallenged.

Leaning slightly towards him, she matched his calm tone.

“You speak of men as the protectors of women, Mr Darcy, but from whom are you protecting them?” She didn’t wait for a reply.

“I will tell you: other men. If men would look upon women as their equals, then society would greatly benefit from it. I doubt equality would breed anarchy.”

She could see that she disconcerted him a bit from his expression. No doubt very few, if anyone, ever spoke to him so frankly.

“ Really, Miss Bennet, I am surprised at you. Mr Darcy was only defending a way of life we all hold dear.” Caroline Bingley arched her eyebrow and sent a withering glance in Lizzy’s direction. Mr Darcy looked as if he was about to say something, but then thought better of it. Lizzy held her own.

“ As for the society we all hold dear, it is changing whether the upper classes like it or not. And why not? Will the Empire survive if we all cling to the old ways of doing things and never make any progress?” She looked directly at Mr Darcy, whose eyes narrowed. He made no reply.

Bingley sipped at his wine. “Come now. Let us change the subject before it spoils all our digestion.” He raised his wineglass. “Let us drink a toast to something we can all agree on… to England.”

They all followed his example and drank to their country. Elizabeth stole a look or two at Mr Darcy across the table, who sat rather sullenly, speaking only when spoken to.

Dessert was finally served: a very impressive blancmange in the shape of a horn of plenty and served with preserved cherries.

Lizzy wasn’t terribly fond of its texture, but her mother served it because she felt it reflected well on their social status.

Not wishing to make any more trouble for Jane, she dutifully ate it with ensuing compliments.

After the wine had made the second circuit around the table for the gentlemen, Caroline Bingley suggested that the ladies retire to the drawing room for coffee.

Lizzy thought that a bit old-fashioned, but then noticed that she suggested it while looking at Mr Darcy.

She was trying to impress him by being rather Victorian.

Well, well. If he was impressed by those sorts of shenanigans, it only confirmed the opinion she had of him since hearing of his shameful treatment of Mr Wickham.

Before reaching the drawing room, she excused herself to use the facilities and, on her way, passed the dining room. Mr Darcy, his voice raised, addressed Bingley.

“ For goodness’s sake, Charles, shopgirls invited to dinner.”

“ Their father is a gentleman, with land in Hertfordshire. They have the bearing and manners of ladies of breeding. You cannot deny it.”

“ Certainly, the young lady who has captured your interest does. She is demure and ladylike… but the sister, my God… one of those ‘modern’ young women, to be sure.”

A snort came, a snuffle, and then another voice joined in. It most certainly was Mr Hurst. “Gave you what for, didn’t she, Darcy?” The wine had obviously removed any sort of constraints on his behaviour. Mr Hurst’s baritone laugh drifted through, but nothing further came from Mr Darcy.

She didn’t stay to hear any more, lest she be discovered. Humph, Mr Darcy. He is exactly as Wickham described him . He and that Caroline Bingley make a perfect couple. They deserve each other .