Page 19 of Reputation, an Easy Thing to Lose (Reputation Verse #1)

Chapter 18

Offenses

Matlock House, St. James, Lo ndon

30 May 1813

“C ome, please, gather a plate of cake and find a seat. The musical performances are about to begin. Lady Jersey, you are first at the pianoforte.” Lady Matlock directed her guests for the after-dinner entertainment. The scheduled musical exhibition by various ladies, and even a few gentlemen who were so inclined, was an annual event at Matlock House, going back at least two generations. Lady Matlock drew up a schedule of performers and it went much in the order of rank. First came any of the married ladies who wished to participate, then the titled unmarried ladies, and then the sisters and daughters of wealthy gentlemen. The men were sprinkled throughout to give the party some variety. Those who were not included in the invitation to exhibit were the companions to Lady Sefton, Anne de Bourgh, and Georgiana, although all three were lovely pianists with significantly more natural talent than several of the ‘accomplished’ ladies in the room.

Darcy took a seat near the back of the room, far from the pianoforte, next to Bristol. Neither man had a particular interest in the musical talents of the exhibiting ladies. But Lady Matlock was not satisfied with this seating arrange ment.

“Come, William, Lord Bristol. Two such fine bachelors must not occupy such disadvantageous seats. There are two comfortable places very near the instrument that I insist you take.” Lady Matlock waved at one of her footmen. “Peters here will arrange for a location which affords a better view of the pianof orte.”

Darcy was firm in his answer. “No, Aunt, that is not necessary. Bristol and I are perfectly well situated here and can easily hear the performances at the front of the room. Save those closer seats for the brave men who might serve to turn pages for the young ladies. You know I am never the best suited for that employ ment.”

There was little Lady Matlock could do, short of making a scene, to encourage Darcy’s attentions towards the young ladies. Soon after the first pianoforte notes began to fill the room, Richard and Viscount Huntley also joined their cousin. Except for during Georgiana’s performance, the four gentlemen generally carried on a conversation about the ongoing conflict with Napoleon, parliament’s latest acts, and fund st ocks.

Approximately five participants into the evening, Lady Fiona was scheduled to perform her selection. In a final attempt to persuade Darcy into reasonable action, Lady Matlock called for a short intermission so that everyone could refresh their drinks. When Darcy returned to the coffee table, Lady Fiona and Lady Matlock pounced, toge ther.

“Nephew, I know you jested when you said you cannot turn pages. I have seen you perform such a service for your sister countless t imes.”

Darcy stiffened. “Aunt, I do sometimes turn pages for Georgiana at home, but I promise you I am not dissembling when I say that I have no talent for the occupation unless I am very familiar with the piece, which is not o ften.”

“Come now, I am sure you are being modest, Mr. Darcy,” said Lady Fiona. “Please, do come turn the pages for me as my turn is next. My brother, I fear, always misses the turn on purpose to make me look the fool. You would not like me to look foolish, would you, Mr. D arcy?”

And so it was, Darcy found himself at the pianoforte turning pages for the rather scandalous Italian aria, Voi che sapete che cosa è amor , performed by Lady Fiona. It was extremely uncomfortable for Darcy, who spoke enough Italian to understand the meaning of the piece, and for everyone else who watched the gentleman slowly become as stiff as a statue and the colour of a tomato. As soon as the last page was turned, Darcy bowed woodenly toward the piano and returned to his seat in sil ence.

Following the end of the scheduled exhibitions, more coffee, tea and cake was placed around the parlour. Lady Sefton, who had been keeping a watchful eye on the assembled guests, stood to refill her tea and took a seat next to Eliza beth.

“Miss Elizabeth, I hope you have been enjoying the eve ning.”

“Yes, my lady. It is always enjoyable to hear such lovely music from the accomplished young la dies.”

“I fear that your young lady, Miss Darcy, was the only truly accomplished musician in the bunch. I am sure that Mr. Darcy is quite proud of his sister’s skill at the pianof orte.”

Elizabeth smiled and looked over to Georgiana who was deep into a conversation with Bernard Finch. “It is an easy thing to be proud of Georgiana’s musical skill. Though I have often heard that a truly accomplished lady must have, in addition to musical talent, skill at drawing, painting, dancing, netting purses, arranging flowers, and the modern langu ages.”

“Pish Posh! I cannot believe any lady fits the bill of such an exhaustive list. No, I have never seen such a lady who excels at more than one of those tasks. Truly, we saw the evidence this evening with our very own eyes that, of the accomplished ladies assembled here tonight, none, save Miss Darcy, gave a truly skilled exhibition.” Lady Sefton’s eyes had a hint of laug hter.

“I am glad that I have never been subjected to such harsh criticism of my accomplishments.” Elizabeth reconsidered. “Though there was one day when Miss Bingley enumerated the many flaws in my education. I had no governess, you see, and was left to the education of my father’s extensive library. It was a most unfortunate education for a truly accomplished lady, I unders tand.”

“It does not surprise me at all that you have extensively read from a wide variety of well -r easoned books. No one who has had the pleasure of your conversation could have any doubt that you have employed your time wisely.” A friendly tap on Elizabeth’s arm punctuated the sincerity in Lady Sefton’s v oice.

Elizabeth’s smile was genuine. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Besides, Caroline Bingley would not understand what makes a lady truly accomplished if she studied all the books in Christendom. I fear that child is hopelessly ignorant and dull.”

With bulging eyes, Elizabeth struggled to form an immediate reply. “But, my lady, you often are found in the company of Miss Bingley, her sister and brother - i n -l aw Hurst. I believed you enjoyed their com pany.”

“Heavens, no! I tolerate Miss Bingley because I quite like my great -n ephew Hurst. Reginald is a kind boy and Louisa is a fine enough lady when she is not kowtowing to her younger sister. No, I mostly keep Miss Bingley close because I do not trust her.” Lady Sefton took another sip of her tea, completely unconcerned with the inappropriate direction of her conversa tion.

Elizabeth took a moment to look around the assembled guests and ensure that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. Though there was no love lost between Elizabeth and Caroline, it would not do to be overheard having such an unflattering conversation about the lady.

“I was, frankly, glad to have an evening without Miss Bingley,” Lady Sefton said, with a serene smile. “She and the Hursts are off to some event at Vauxhall this evening. Knowing Mr. Darcy and several other prime gentlemen whom Miss Bingley insists on chasing would be here, I originally declined to attend. But Lady Matlock’s musical engagements have been something I have enjoyed since I played in this very room my first season. Of course, the hostess then was the current Lord Matlock’s grandmother, but it was a virtually identical night to this one.”

“Now, you must be exaggerating. You are not old enough to have been a guest of Lord Matlock’s grandmother, unless you came out when you were still in nap pies.”

Lady Sefton gave a small snort into her teacup. “Admittedly, the lady in question was getting on in years and did not survive many more seasons after my first, but I debuted many years ago now.”

“I would have liked to have known you then, as a bright -e yed debutant.” Elizabeth tapped Lady Sefton on the arm with her fan. “I wager you were still just as self -a ssured and interesting back then as you are t oday.”

“Though I was definitely self -a ssured , I do not believe you would have liked Maria Margaret Craven very much. I was brought up to have a very high opinion of myself, prioritizing wealth and connections above anything else.” Lady Sefton used her spoon to stir a few sugar crystals still at the bottom of her cup. “My marriage to William Philip Molyneux, the second Earl of Sefton made me very highly placed indeed. When we married, I thought that I had made the best match possible and was unabashed in my effusive boasting to anyone who would listen. My husband is a personal friend of the Prince Regent, after all.” Lady Sefton sighed and looked around the room, wistfully. Elizabeth sensed that this story was not all happy and waited patiently for the noblewoman to cont inue.

“I came to really understand what it means to be a close personal friend of the Prince Regent after a few years. My husband is a gambler, spendthrift, womanizer, and never looks upon me with any kindness. Now that I am an old woman, secure in my fortune and place in society, I have made a happy life without Lord Sefton. We keep separate residences, and my greatest joys are my family and overseeing Almack’s.” Turning to look back at Elizabeth, the wistfulness and pain had already left Lady Sefton’s eyes. “It is a particular pleasure of mine to watch the young people meet and dance during the season, even more so when there is obvious affection between the courting couples.” Lady Sefton gave Elizabeth a look that seemed to both ask and answer the important questions surrounding her own future happi ness.

Abruptly, Lady Sefton changed the subject. “I must say, though, that I have also heard you play on occasion, and I was sorry that you were not included in the exhibition ear lier.”

Elizabeth blushed and looked down. “I am no great proficient at the pianoforte. I do not take the time to practice that I should. Georgiana has asked me on occasion to play duets, but I am sorry to say that I do not use my own time on the pur suit.”

“I have not found any fault in your performances thus far. Why do you not play something for me? I would be very grateful if you would play that lovely Scottish lullaby you performed a few days ago during tea at Darcy H ouse.”

Elizabeth dissembled. “I believe that Lady Matlock was not expecting any more performances for the evening.” Looking around, Elizabeth caught the eye of their hostess, who was unexpectedly watching her conversation with Lady Sefton. The sour look on Lady Matlock’s face caused Elizabeth to s tart.

Lady Sefton was not blind to the mood of Lady Matlock, but as the reigning paragon of society, she boldly looked Lady Matlock in the eye and walked Elizabeth to the seat at the pianoforte. Nearly all of the other guests had become involved in partaking of the coffee and cakes, so Elizabeth played the sweet tune softly as pleasant background m usic.

As if drawn by some unknowable force, Darcy walked over to the pianoforte until he was standing next to the instrument with one hand on the lid and both eyes trained on Elizabeth. He always loved listening to his wife play, and this song was a particular favourite of his. She sang softly to the melody flowing from her fingers. Part of the song she sang in English and part in Gaelic. Darcy was always amazed at how she could make the northern language, so full of harsh consonants and guttural noises, sound as lovely as any French love song.

With his attention so fully engaged with the vision of his wife, Darcy missed the veritable smoke rising from his aunt’s ears and Lady Fiona’s actual stomping foot. He also missed the satisfied smile upon Lady Sefton’s face while she observed the young couple at the p iano.

At the conclusion of her song, Lady Matlock swept over to the pianoforte and nearly caught Elizabeth’s fingers in her swift motion to close the fallboard. “I believe we have had enough music for the evening. I would not want the strings of my instrument to be worn out with so much excessive pla ying.”

Several of the other guests had followed Lady Matlock over to the pianoforte and Elizabeth was embarrassed that her playing had offended their hostess somehow. Darcy held out his hand for Elizabeth to stand from the bench when Lady Fiona decided to engage with her aunt’s harang uing.

“Miss Elizabeth, you look peaked, all of a sudden. Are you sure you are not fatigued from such a long day of performing your duties to Miss D arcy?”

“Yes, dear. I quite agree that Miss Elizabeth looks flushed. I have a room down the servants hall available to you for a short rest while my nephew and niece enjoy the company of their friends.” Lady Matlock began to wave over one of the foo tmen.

“That will not be necessary, Aunt.” Darcy scarcely kept the rage out of his voice, but it showed on his face. “We have all had a busy couple of days and I find that I, also, am fatigued. Thank you for a delightful evening. Please have our carriage brought ar ound.”

Several minutes later, Darcy had collected Georgiana away from her conversation with Bernard Finch and bundled his family into their carriage for Darcy H ouse.

As soon as they had dressed for bed, Elizabeth sat on the chaise by the fire in Darcy’s bedchamber. “Come here, my love. We must have some conversation before we re tire.”

Darcy sighed. “I know what you are going to say. I should not have become so angry at my aunt. But she was so very rude to you, and for no reason other than some prejudice against your posi tion.”

Elizabeth patted the seat next to her on the chaise again and Darcy reluctantly took a seat. He was immediately wrapped in Elizabeth’s slender arms. “William, you know that she has plans for your marriage which include one of her favourite relations. Perhaps if it was just your indifference to Lady Fiona, your aunt would not be so forceful in her offenses. But I suspect it has more to do with your change in character rece ntly.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Running a soothing pattern against his chest, Elizabeth continued. “Your character, perhaps not in essentials, but in outward expression, has changed much since our argument in Hunsford. You are less prideful around those who are of lesser rank than yourself. You more openly associate with tradesmen, such as my uncle, and you are not as stoic in company as you were before. I do not mention these changes to imply that I do not approve, I very much approve of you. But I wonder how much of the change your close relations also perceive and how that has affected their attitude towards you… an d me.”

“What do you suggest I do about this?”

“I am not sure.” Elizabeth sighed. “Perhaps you might try going back to your stoic mask in company. And also, you must take care to perform those little pleasantries that are expected of the gentlemen, like turning pages for the daughter of an Earl, without looking as if you are being tortured. Perhaps you should practice arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, to give them as unstudied an air as poss ible.”

Darcy knit his brow together. “I am at a loss to your meaning. Practice elegant compliments? Where in the world you would get such an idea?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Do not worry yourself, dear. It was something I heard once before as a means of being pleasing to other people. But you are right, this is not your way. Social distance and haughty disgust served you well in Meryton at keeping unwanted attention away. Perhaps we should return to that re pose.”

“Minx!” Darcy laughed. He turned and dug the tips of his fingers into Elizabeth’s side, making her shriek. “You will not get away with such insol ence.”

“You like my insolence. And besides, I am not w rong.”

“No dear, you are not wrong, about anyt hing.”