Page 49 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY

Never had Elizabeth felt more like her sister Mary than when she entered the third shop on their excursion.

Her always proper aunt had been careful to take her to private appointments with her own dressmaker and shoemaker, but Elizabeth’s sense of guilt and awkwardness—shopping while in mourning for her father—rendered the experience into a duty rather than a pleasure, especially when Kitty required a reminder not to enjoy herself overmuch.

Her aunt had warned Elizabeth the previous evening that her feelings of guilt were, if not understandable, at least misplaced.

“Your father wished this for you, Lizzy. He wished for your marriage to Mr Darcy. And,” she went on, lifting her hand to tuck a piece of hair behind Elizabeth’s ear, “do not forget that Thomas Bennet always preferred to be left out of any conversation on ribbons, laces, gowns, and shoe roses.”

Sensing that her niece’s tender feelings were eased, Mrs Gardiner demanded a full accounting of Elizabeth’s courtship with Mr Darcy to date.

Elizabeth told her that after her initial confusion—well documented in her earlier letters—she had learned to appreciate his intelligence, humour, and manner, and had recognised how he influenced Mr Bennet to better tend his own affairs and estate.

What could have been hardship and unpleasant choices had become discovery and friendship and possibly— hopefully —more.

“You may consider not having met Reverend William Collins, my father’s heir, to be providential. We are fortunate that Mr Darcy is his patron in Kent and ordered him away from Longbourn until after the New Year. My sisters and I are protected from the disagreeable prospect of becoming Mrs Collins.”

Her aunt smiled, but without full satisfaction at Elizabeth’s explanation, and pressed her for more. “You have been very sly, Elizabeth, as was your father. He saw the spark of interest between you and Mr Darcy and arranged things in such a way as to ensure your marriage.”

“My father was not known to arrange things, Aunt. If Mr Darcy had not acted so quickly on Papa’s wishes, we would yet to be preparing for a wedding, but a truly mournful one!”

Mrs Gardiner gave her a piercing look, wondering if Elizabeth’s levity disguised real concern over the hasty nuptials to a near-stranger.

“I think that is an admirable trait, especially in a man of his years—he is not yet thirty—and one dearly necessary for a man of his standing—master of two grand estates, guardian to his sister. Mr Darcy appears to be a man who takes his responsibilities to heart and who does things in an orderly fashion. Meeting you was unexpected and certainly not unwelcome.”

Elizabeth agreed but did not manage the words.

“I have seen how Mr Darcy looks at you, at the tender way he speaks your name. What are your feelings, Lizzy? Do you love him?”

Elizabeth looked out the window at the leaves swirling and dancing in the cold November wind.

She had danced with Mr Darcy once, at the assembly.

She had argued with him, laughed with him, felt the warmth of her hands in his, and his eyes fixed on hers.

What would it be like to be held in his arms for more than the fleeting moments they had yet shared, to dance a waltz, to swirl and twirl as the leaves, entwined, moving gracefully and alone together, in an elegant ballroom? She shivered .

“Lizzy?”

Brought back to herself, Elizabeth shrugged her reply. “I wish I knew for certain.”

“If you feel affection for him as I believe he does you, do not leave him without such assurance. You, both of you, would wish a marriage of equal felicity, and you need not know everything to know some things.”

She could not speak of such feelings to her aunt when she had yet to find words to give Mr Darcy.

Fitzwilliam . But as she sat in her aunt’s small sitting room, remembering how he had hurried to Longbourn to offer his assistance, come to her, enjoining her to marry him and lead a fuller life at his side, spoken to her tenderly of his feelings and wiped her tears, held her when she felt her weakest, touched his lips to hers and opened a part of her she had never known existed, Elizabeth’s uncertainty of the past weeks cleared, like mists burned away by the sun.

She loved him. Of course she did. Never had such joy and vulnerability mingled within her heart.

Those emotions still simmered the following morning as they shopped for new undergarments and a nightgown for her wedding night. Elizabeth was still blushing when it came time for tea with Darcy’s aunt.

To say Darcy was pleased when Elizabeth told him she would accompany him alone to tea was an understatement.

As much as he liked and respected Mrs Gardiner, he preferred some time alone with Elizabeth before joining the Gardiners for dinner.

By then, Mrs Gardiner assured him, the nanny, who had watched the children all morning despite a cold, would be rested and able to manage bedtimes.

Elizabeth appeared pleased to take his arm and walk alone to his carriage. He saw an elegance about her here, in town, that he had not seen in Hertfordshire. Was it how she carried herself, or was it a new hat?

“You are staring, sir.”

Startled, he nearly missed her small smile and raised eyebrow.

“Have I grown an extra arm or has my skin turned green?”

“I apologise,” he said, laughing at her words. “It is simply that you look beautiful and I have missed you.”

The blush he had not noticed grew deeper and she looked away from him. “I am the same as I have been, in my dyed coat and gown.”

“You are a welcome sight, no matter the colour you wear. I recall admiring you in an ivory and green gown at the assembly.”

Her eyes dimmed. “It was a favourite of mine. You shall see me in it tomorrow, though it is now grey and black.”

He nearly groaned at his thoughtless stupidity. “You shall have a new gown made, exactly to match it. We shall have fabric and materials sent to Pemberley if they cannot be found in Lambton.”

“There is no need for such extravagance?—”

“How was your shopping today? Mrs Gardiner seemed assured you will be warm for our journey north.”

“I am now fully equipped to face the frightful climes of Derbyshire,” she said, a light expression now returned to her face. “Muffs, pelisses, shawls, wool and flannel stockings and nightgowns...”

Her voice faded and they spent the rest of the ride in silence, she clearly embarrassed by her reference to intimate garments and he quietly heartened by such purchases.

He had spent his own morning clearing his desk at Darcy House and securing his mother’s ring for Elizabeth.

A short trip to Bond Street to choose something new for her, a necklace not from his family’s collection but to mark the start of their own beginning.

A betrothal gift was past due and he hoped this one would not be too much for a woman in mourning to accept.

Matlock House was more than Elizabeth could have imagined.

She had read of Versailles and the French rococo, but never had she believed so much colour, so many patterns, and so much gold and silver could be stuffed into one home.

How she wished her aunt and uncle were with her, so she could hear their opinions; it was as if the British Museum was robbed and this was its storehouse.

She felt Darcy bend close and speak quietly as they were led through a brightly lit and gleaming corridor to the drawing room. “I am sorry I did not warn you of its opulence. Do not be afraid, for Darcy House is nothing like it.”

She was sighing in relief when the doors opened and they were announced. Three ladies were seated and an older gentleman, whom she took for Lord Matlock, sat apart near the fire.

“Aunt, Uncle, may I introduce Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth, my uncle and aunt, Lord and Lady Matlock, her daughter, Miss Cecilia Fitzwilliam, and of course, you have met Georgiana.”

Before she could speak, Lord Matlock was standing beside her.

“Miss Bennet.” He bowed over her hand and she replied with a curtsey. He quickly looked to Darcy. “I would see you in my study. The ladies would like to make Miss Bennet’s acquaintance without fussy gentlemen observing the conversation.”

“Uncle, I?—”

Elizabeth appreciated his hesitation. In spite of the warmth she and Georgiana had managed, she did not anticipate an easy acceptance into the family.

She was prepared for polite enquiries and formal conversation; a future of letters followed by house visits, would likely lessen the distance and better establish relations.

“Go on, Darcy,” said the lady introduced to her as Lady Matlock.

They were her first words beyond her brief greeting.

She was a beautiful woman, looking younger than her years, which appeared to have her close in age to Uncle Gardiner.

Her reddish blonde hair was swept up, her complexion pale and flawless, her bearing regal, and her blue gown of the finest silk.

Her daughter, the earl’s stepdaughter, was made in her image.

A tendril of doubt and worry over her own dull, inferior appearance ground inside Elizabeth.

She realised Darcy was steering her into a chair across from Lady Matlock. He bent over, met her eyes, and whispered, “Are you well?”

She nodded and touched his arm. “I am. Go with your uncle.”

“I shall give him only a few minutes,” he reassured her with a warm look. After informing his uncle of the same limits on his time, Darcy followed the older man out the door.

Elizabeth watched the door close before turning back to her hostess.

She smiled with more pleasure than she felt and thanked Lady Matlock for the invitation to her beautiful home.

While awaiting a reply and feeling too many eyes examining her, Elizabeth looked around the room and struggled to think of a compliment that would sound sincere .