Page 11 of The Countess and Her Sister

The next time Mr. Darcy called at Matlock House, he brought his sister with him.

Elizabeth chose that morning to indulge in some light shopping, accompanied by Rebecca, who only protested a very little.

“I take pleasure in knowing that my absence will hardly be a blessing for cousin Darcy, for amongst fewer of us he shall be more closely scrutinized by Richard and Mamma,” she told Elizabeth with a buoyant laugh as they departed the townhouse.

Elizabeth knew Rebecca understood her true purpose in absenting herself, for she had no wish to stand in Jane’s way.

She had only ever intended to ease the conversation between them, but if Jane and Mr. Darcy were both prone to reticence, they could sort it out between themselves.

Better still, the dowager countess could smooth the way for them, since it had been all her own idea to match them.

Rebecca was an ideal companion for their excursion, for she was always determined to make merry.

A self-proclaimed spinster who lived for luxury and enjoyment, Lady Rebecca Fitzwilliam shared Elizabeth’s tastes and style of humor, her penchant for laughing at the follies of others, and her independent spirit.

She desperately wished to be wicked, and could not resist any chance to stir the pot. “Who do you suppose shall give us the most truthful reckoning of the visit today, Lizzy? Not Richard, for surely he shall be the most beastly behaved!”

“Jane would not conceal anything from us,” Elizabeth said with a gentle laugh. “Though I will never reveal her confidences, she has been candid enough about her first meeting with Mr. Darcy.”

“Pah! Jane need not tell me all her secrets, that is what her diary is for. But I can read her like a book, anyhow. After a lifetime with the ghastly Mrs. Bennet and then a union with my horrid half-brother, poor Jane wishes to please everybody, and is willing to please herself last. In that respect, she is very like Darcy, though I think that he makes duty and honor and self-deprivation a morbid sort of art form.”

Elizabeth sputtered with impudent laughter. “Self-deprivation?”

“The man hates parties – he never dances at balls! He loathes merriment and would never be caught engaging in the slightest tomfoolery – he certainly wants no part of any shenanigan. What a dreary life!”

“He expressed an enjoyment of many things, Rebecca. His preferences are perhaps more sedate than yours, but we cannot all take our pleasure in dancing atop the pianoforte at Lady Thurston’s Twelfth Night masquerade.”

“That only happened twice,” Rebecca said, beaming with pride.

“The first time, I wished to discourage the attentions of a very dull baronet, and the following year Mr. Bingley bet Richard that I would not repeat the feat a second time – I wished my brother to have some extra coin, for it was very near my birthday.”

“No wonder Mr. Darcy does not enjoy that lady’s festivities,” Elizabeth chortled, giving Rebecca a playful nudge.

“Well, let us hope he prefers taking tea under the watchful eyes of Mamma. They are both so reticent, I do not know how they shall get on without us – I know Richard is not likely to be helpful!”

Elizabeth felt a strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “Does he disapprove of the match for some reason?”

“The obvious reason – that they are not compatible. Contrary as he may be, he is fond of them both, and wishes them happy. I agree with Richard that such a union might satisfy their sense of family duty, but surely Darcy and Jane both desire more than such tepid felicity.”

“I see,” Elizabeth mused, turning away to admire a pair of gloves as they entered a shop. “It is a pity he could not marry Jane, for their different dispositions have always complemented one another. Perhaps Mr. Bingley, who is very lively and affable, might similarly suit Jane’s tranquil reserve.”

As Elizabeth reached up to feel the velvety texture of the ribbon lining a bonnet, Rebecca grabbed her wrist and spun her about, her lips spreading into a slow and wily grin. “Hmm. Perhaps a certain gentleman with greater intelligence than social grace might suit a young lady of spirited wit.”

Heat seared Elizabeth’s face as she comprehended her sister’s meaning. She pressed her lips together as if to prevent any secret truth from escaping. As Rebecca’s eyes flashed, Elizabeth averted her own.

“I knew it! You like him! Lizzy, I am dragging you directly to Bedlam!”

Elizabeth wrested free from Rebecca’s grasp and shook her head, knowing that any denial would fall on deaf ears. “I think well of all of my sister’s suitors. Mr. Darcy is very agreeable, but I concur with your assertion that they are too similar in their reserve.”

Rebecca eyed her with exaggerated suspicion. “If you intend to assert that disparate dispositions are best suited when speaking of Jane, you cannot reasonably tell me that you have not applied the same logic to yourself.”

“You never miss an opportunity to insist you have no aspirations to matrimony – why may I not do the same?”

“Because you have a heart,” Rebecca said, resting a hand on her chest, “where I merely store my excess of irreverence.”

Rebecca allowed the subject of Mr. Darcy to drop, though he remained present in Elizabeth’s thoughts. She could not cease to wonder how he and Jane would get on, and if Jane might overcome her initial objections enough to welcome his suit for her own sake rather than Lady Augusta’s.

Elizabeth purchased a few small things, including a new journal for Jane; she had noticed that when Jane read from the page of her diary, it was a page near the end.

She selected a similar one for herself – perhaps she might encounter some suitors of her own to write about, and then she would not be tempted to think of Jane’s beaux.

Elizabeth returned with Rebecca, ready to hear of Mr. Darcy’s visit from her relations; she was not at all prepared to discover that he and his sister were still at Matlock House.

Introductions were performed and Elizabeth was immediately charmed by the sweet and eager Miss Darcy, though she was disconcerted by the warm greeting from Mr. Darcy.

“You could not avoid me entirely, despite your best endeavor, Miss Bennet.” One side of Mr. Darcy’s mouth quirked upward, though he knit his brow as if startled at his own sauciness. Elizabeth stared at him, mouth agape, and she dropped the parcel she had gotten wrapped as a present for Jane.

Richard picked it up, glanced at the tag, and then pretended as if he would tear the paper away before handing it to Jane. He grinned at Elizabeth’s discomfiture and winked at her.

“Oh, dear, no – it is all my fault,” Miss Darcy said, looking between them all with bewildered amusement. “We only arrived but half an hour ago – much later than the hour William had planned – I tarried too long in preparing myself this morning.”

“But we have grown acquainted, and I find Miss Darcy utterly charming,” Jane said with a bright smile.

“As is your sister,” Miss Darcy said, gesturing for Elizabeth to take the empty seat beside Mr. Darcy. “Lady Jane has been telling us about young master Thomas; we are both very eager to meet him, perhaps on our next visit. We know very little of children, for there are no others in the family.”

“Some of us are still accustomed to considering you as such, but you are looking vastly more grown up since last I saw you,” Richard said with an indulgent smile.

“We have several young cousins, and sisters your own age as well, Miss Darcy, so Jane and I cannot remember a time without children in the family. But Jane and I, and the rest of our sisters, upon reaching your age, found we much preferred to seek the company of adults – without any pity for them for bearing our exuberance.” Elizabeth waggled eyebrows with a look of mischief.

Miss Darcy let out a joyful peal of laughter and looked at her brother with bright confidence. “She understands me perfectly, brother!”

Elizabeth looked to Jane, who folded her hands in her lap with a strained smile.

There was a lapse of silence as Elizabeth waited, desperately wishing Jane might seize the chance to speak.

She had been conversing with Mr. and Miss Darcy for a half-hour already; surely she could say something to share in their mirth.

Instead, Jane appeared to let the discomfort of her own diffidence wash over her.

Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth with a conspiratorial look.

“You comprehend my sister’s desperation to move in society, Miss Bennet.

I should be worried of her making an insurmountable ally of you for her cause, had I not already promised that Georgie might come out in the autumn. It will not be long now.”

“So soon that I believe we must begin shopping,” Rebecca cried. She winked at Elizabeth in an expression that mirrored her brother’s own wicked gleam of mischievous intent. “Lady Jane has impeccable fashion sense, and her Aunt Madeline loves taking us to the best warehouse in the city.”

“I should be delighted to include you in our next shopping trip, if your brother will permit it.” Jane grasped at the conversation at last, and Elizabeth smiled at Rebecca to prove she was not bothered in the least.

“And are you as fond as your sister of buying presents when you are shopping?” Mr. Darcy gestured to the parcel that sat in Jane’s lap.

Jane looked down and let out a little gasp.

“Oh, Lizzy, I already forgot – I am sorry.” She delicately peeled away the paper and set it aside before smiling sincerely at the elegant leatherbound journal.

She brushed her fingers over the intricate silver filigree embossing – small but detailed flowers and elegant flourishes.

“Thank you, Lizzy, it is very thoughtful, and my favorite color.”

“I was very indulgent, and bought one for myself, as well.”