Page 12 of The Heroic Mr Darcy’s Bad Manners

Elizabeth

Elizabeth bade goodbye to Mrs Long in the carriage, who was in a hurry to acquire the flowers Mrs Bennet had requested whilst there was still some daylight left.

Elizabeth entered what she soon discovered to be an empty house. Her grandmother and Uncle Henry had yet to arrive, but the upper servants had been sent in advance and assured Elizabeth that they were expected any minute. Her chamber was promptly readied whilst Elizabeth took refreshments in the parlour. Her mind was occupied with whether or not she should tell her grandmother everything, but she decided against it. If they should happen upon Mr Darcy during the Season, it was best if they could meet as indifferent acquaintances. That would not be possible if Grandmother Bennet were apprised of his insult, and scenes might arise that would be unpleasant to both. Not that she was the least bit concerned about how Mr Darcy was faring.

A commotion in the entrance hall jolted Elizabeth out of her worrisome thoughts, and she went to greet her relations.

“Elizabeth! What a pleasant surprise. Is Jane not with you?” her grandmother greeted her.

“No, my company must suffice for the moment. Jane’s suitor, Mr Bingley, is expected at Longbourn for a dinner engagement on Saturday. He is likely to ask for my father’s blessing and propose after having made his intentions clear at his ball last night.”

“I see. Then I suppose I must excuse her, and you must tell me more about Mr Bingley once I have refreshed myself after the journey.”

Her grandmother ascended the stairs just as Uncle Henry entered. He drew her in for a big hug before he too abandoned her for his ablutions. A peace settled upon Elizabeth, who busied herself in the library whilst she awaited her relations. She needed something to read before bed, and Uncle Henry’s shelves were well stocked.

Half an hour later her grandmother found Elizabeth curled up with a book in the library.

“So…” She paused. “What truly brings you to town in such a hurry?”

Elizabeth told her all about Mr Collins and his ridiculous proposal. Especially his reluctance to accept her mother’s opposition to his suit, which she turned into a funny anecdote. Mr Bingley’s marked attentions at the Netherfield ball were also examined and approved before the evening drew to its natural conclusion.

#

“You have not once mentioned Mr Darcy,” Grandmother Bennet remarked at breakfast the next day.

“That is simply because there is nothing to tell,” Elizabeth said as indifferently as she could muster and reached for the jam.

“Yes, well. I am afraid I have no news to relate either. Our leave-taking was rather abrupt, but I would not be surprised if he calls as soon as he is apprised of our return.”

“Indeed, I think not.” Elizabeth hid behind her cup. “Since he has made no attempts thus far, I very much doubt we shall ever hear from him.”

“What would you like to do today?” her grandmother enquired with a frown between her brows.

“Nothing,” Elizabeth replied and heard her grandmother’s sigh of relief. “I travelled yesterday, and we returned very late from the Netherfield ball the night before, so I am quite happy to remain at home.”

“I admit that I am utterly relieved. The journey from Ireland is not getting any shorter, and this body is not getting any younger. I know not for how long it will tolerate all these long journeys back and forth. Fortunately, we do not have any engagements before Saturday, when we are attending Lady Middleton’s ball. I am certain I can persuade her to include you in the invitation, Eilís.”

“That is not necessary,” Elizabeth assured her. “I had a note from Aunt Gardiner this morning, who invited me to dine with them on Saturday. I would like to accept if you do not mind?”

Her grandmother was regarding her quizzically but acquiesced to her request. It was not like Elizabeth to avoid entertainment of any kind, and she tried not to blush. This shying away from engagements just because she might happen upon Mr Darcy had to stop. If only she could wait until Jane was engaged to Mr Bingley. She hoped to receive an express with joyful news no later than Sunday. Which reminded her that Mr Darcy was still in Hertfordshire and no threat to her equilibrium in London. Though she risked encountering his ungentlemanly cousins.

Uncle Henry stirred from his newspaper. “Maeve told me that you received an unwanted proposal, and that Jane is soon to be engaged.”

“Yes, the first sent me hither in due haste. My mother worried he would not respect my father’s objections. I found his declaration of being run away with his feelings particularly diverting, especially since he fancied himself in love with Jane first.” Elizabeth chuckled, but Uncle Henry did not look amused.

“Does he know the specifics of your father’s will?” he questioned brusquely.

“Yes. My father informed him after Mr Collins revealed he was not even aware of the broken entail. According to his letter, he came prepared to offer us an olive branch to mend a breach in the family.”

Uncle Henry huffed. “To atone for the sins of his father may not have been as important to him if there had not been the prospect of an estate to tempt him. He must have been pleased to discover that the Bennet girls are beautiful and everything lovely. But your father made the right decision to send you here. If my suspicions that his reason had a more nefarious bent are correct—namely to secure Longbourn for himself—Jane’s imminent engagement must have spurred him into acting. It is specified in your father’s will that Longbourn goes to the first-born grandson, regardless from which Bennet sister he is sired,” Uncle Henry explained. “Mr Collins must be aware of that fact and hoped to beget the heir before Jane and her beau. His only chance to secure Longbourn for himself would be to take a wife from amongst you girls, hasten his bride to the altar, and sire a son…”

The conditions also explained why Lady Glentworth was so keen to see her daughters married—to birth a son.

“Honestly, after meeting the man in question, I doubt that he knows much about anything. But he does have a meddlesome patroness.”

“Let us forget all about Mr Collins as I would like to know more about this Bingley chap,” Uncle Henry demanded.

Elizabeth complied and gave her relations a summary of all Mr Bingley’s dealings—with the exception of the friend he had brought to Netherfield. She would have to relate Mr Darcy’s presence in Hertfordshire at some point and was astonished that none of her sisters had mentioned him in their letters, though Jane was the only faithful correspondent. Her mother usually left it to Elizabeth to relate any news, and her father wrote only what could not be overlooked. Mary was too engrossed in her own concerns, and Kitty and Lydia were much like their father. Though their true reason for neglecting letter writing was that they were too busy chasing after the officers in the militia.

“It is convenient that you are here, Eilís. I am refurbishing your family’s appointed chambers this winter and would like your assistance,” Mrs Bennet said.

“Certainly, when do you plan to begin?” Elizabeth asked.

“Tomorrow is as good a day as any. We need wall-papers, fabric, linens, and quite possibly some furniture. We should inspect the rooms and make a list before we go to the shops, which means we should make a good beginning today. It is fortunate indeed that you are here because you are more familiar with your parents’ and sisters’ tastes than I.”

“I do not believe you need to worry about my father’s accommodations. You know he hates town, and it is unlikely he will spend much of his time here.”

A shadow passed across her grandmother’s face, and Uncle Henry lowered his newspaper.

“In this he no longer has a choice,” Uncle Henry grumbled. “He is the Earl of Glentworth and must assume his duties when the Season begins.”

Elizabeth was glad it was not she who must take that unwelcome news to her father.

The butler came with a calling card on a silver salver and offered it to her grandmother.

“We must delay the inspection of the rooms, dear Elizabeth. Lady Melbourne has asked me to call as she has an acquaintance she wants to introduce me to.”

#

Sunday morning.

Elizabeth was reading a letter in quietude when her grandmother entered the parlour and looked about the room to ascertain they were alone. She was surprised the older lady was up so early the night after Lady Middleton’s ball. She herself had gone to bed before midnight after a pleasant visit to the Gardiners’.

“Dear Eilís, have you received any news from Jane?”

“No, not today at least. This letter is from Charlotte,” Elizabeth replied.

“I am at a loss as to what to do…” Maeve Bennet sighed and sat down heavily on an old-fashioned settee. She looked tired, her features drawn and eyes shadowed.

“May I be of assistance?” Elizabeth offered.

“Yes, perhaps I should inform you. You know him better than I and may have a better understanding of his conduct.” Her grandmother turned towards her and grabbed her hands, which worried Elizabeth.

“A certain Mr Bingley attended Lady Middleton’s ball last evening, though no opportunity arose for an introduction.”

Elizabeth could only nod whilst worrying whether Mr Darcy had accompanied his friend. The letter from Charlotte had informed her that the aforementioned gentleman had returned to town the very same day she had left for London, and that was four days ago. No, that seemed unlikely. Perhaps Charlotte was mistaken, because if he had returned, he surely would have accompanied Mr Bingley to Lady Middleton’s ball—a titbit her grandmother would have been eager to relate if it had been so…

“I understand that Mr Bingley singled out Jane to such an extent that expectations of a forthcoming proposal were raised.”

“Yes. Sir William mentioned as much to me at the Netherfield ball.”

“Sir William?” Grandmother Bennet huffed in disbelief. “I do not believe a word that comes out of that flibbertigibbet’s mouth. Oh no, it is your opinion I seek. But keep in mind that young gentlemen today are prone to fall in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, then forget all about them as soon as they encounter another charming young lady.”

“I assure you”—Elizabeth lowered her voice in exasperation—“that is not the case with Mr Bingley, who is most violently in love with Jane.”

“Violently in love!” Her grandmother huffed. “The expression is so hackneyed and indefinite, it gives me little idea of what has transpired. It is as often applied to a flighty half-hour acquaintance as it is to a strong, long-lasting connection. Pray, tell me, how violently in love is Mr Bingley?”

Her grandmother was a shrewd and discerning lady, but in this instance, Elizabeth believed she was wrong.

“I have never seen a more promising inclination,” Elizabeth assured her. “He grew quite inattentive to other people because he was wholly engrossed in Jane. Every time they met it became more obvious and marked. At his own ball he offended two young ladies by not requesting a set because he danced thrice with Jane. I myself spoke to him on two separate occasions without receiving any answers. Could there be any finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”

“Oh yes! Of the kind of love I suspect he has felt. Mr Bingley was supposed to return to Meryton the very next day and had accepted an invitation to dine at Longbourn yesterday. But he is still in town and highly engaged in making love to his newest conquest. Last evening he smiled and danced twice with Miss Helena Bergman. Mind you, she is not to be trifled with. Her Swedish father must be of Viking blood because he is as tall and broad-shouldered as he is fair and bad tempered. Mr Bergman has fathered four sons who resemble him in every way. Mr Bingley will not be left unscathed should he trifle with their only daughter and sister. Poor Jane! With her disposition, I am concerned she will not soon recover. It would have been better if it was you, dear leanbh [6] . You would have laughed yourself out of it much sooner.”

Her grandmother rose to pace the floor. Elizabeth could not believe Mr Bingley had forgotten about Jane so soon—and that he had failed to keep his dinner engagement at Longbourn. There must be a plausible explanation as to why he had shown Miss Bergman marked attention. Two dances were not a declaration…

“Do you believe Jane could be prevailed upon to come to Limerick House?” her grandmother asked. “A change of scenery would do her good, and we could entertain her so well that she forgets that there ever was a Mr Bingley.”

“I cannot believe it. Mr Bingley must have a good reason for behaving thus. Perhaps Miss Bergman is his cousin, and he was aiding her to gain notice amongst the other gentlemen?” Elizabeth argued, but her grandmother simply raised an eyebrow in reply.

“Perhaps he is not the man I thought he was,” Elizabeth allowed reluctantly. She doubted very much that she had been so mistaken, but her confidence had shattered when the most agreeable gentleman proved to hardly warrant the name. “He certainly surrounds himself with questionable friends. They must be more alike than I initially thought…”

“Some of these young men gad about and make love to everyone they meet, but there is no substance to their amorous trifling,” Mrs Bennet huffed.

“Or they stand about in a stupid manner hurling haphazard insults,” Elizabeth added. She was quite finished with men if what her grandmother had just said about Mr Bingley was true—and it must be, because her grandmother would never lie.

“You should settle for the quiet brooding sort of gentleman, Eilís. Still waters run deep, and their feelings are sincere, though I suppose they are not prone to showing them.”

Elizabeth scrutinised her grandmother’s innocent countenance. She had not mentioned Mr Darcy since the first night.

#

Darcy

“Lord Limerick is back in town,” Colonel Fitzwilliam mentioned whilst Darcy was taking a swig of burning hot coffee. “According to my source, his niece has joined him, and his sister.”

The coffee went down the wrong way, and he almost suffocated without Richard lifting a finger to help him. He gasped and grabbed a glass of water, which he gulped down to rescue his tongue. “Excuse me while I choke to death!” he grumbled and spluttered.

“No one dies from drinking coffee,” Richard replied evenly, trying to hide his grin behind his own cup.

Darcy waited for his cousin to offer more details of his own volition, but after an eternity of about a minute, his patience was waning. “Which source would that be?”

“Your aunt, Miss Eudora Darcy. I happened upon her at Mrs Thistlewait’s musical soirée . I did not know that she was acquainted with his lordship’s sister, but she had been introduced through a mutual acquaintance. Lady Melbourne, I believe.”

Darcy wondered why his own aunt had not shared such vital information with him. Of course, she did not know that the alluring Queen Elizabeth had enchanted him. It had been his intention to continue to call upon Limerick House, even though his attempts last June had been thwarted by an absent knocker and a mad dash to Ramsgate to save Georgiana from the clutches of that scoundrel Wickham.

When he had returned to town, the Limericks had left for Ireland, whilst he had a despondent sister to console. He had been anxiously awaiting news about the elusive Miss Eilís for six months now, and to have it confirmed that she was here, in London, made his heart pound at an alarming rate. He could finally visit her—or perhaps not. So many months had passed; she might have married.

His chest constricted, which was ridiculous when considering a lady with whom he had spent but a couple of hours.

It was quite coincidental that he chose to pay his aunt a visit directly after he left his cousin. He had not seen her since he left for Netherfield and reckoned it was long-due.

He entered the parlour of his eccentric aunt’s modest town house. She was an enthusiast of stuffed animals, and a selection of dead creatures stared at him from various postures.

“Darcy! How good of you to grace your old aunt with your presence. And convenient, I might add. It saved me from leaving the comforts of my home in this freezing cold to call on you.”

“I am happy to have spared you an unpleasant trip,” Darcy remarked cheerfully.

“I was hoping you could join me for a visit tomorrow morning. I have gained a new acquaintance who is not so new to you. You were introduced summer last, during a masquerade at the Argyll Rooms.”

Hope bloomed in his chest, but he had to be certain.

“I remember the event, but it was quite a crush, so you must be more specific.”

“Does Lord Limerick ring a bell?”

“It does,” he replied evenly. His aunt could be meddlesome, and it was best not to appear too eager.

“His sister told me that you danced two sets with her granddaughter and spoke at length in between. I almost accused her of being mistaken because you rarely if ever pay pronounced attention to any young lady.”

“True. I am cautious about raising expectations I have no intention of fulfilling.” Which was as much of an admission as he would give at this moment. After all, he had yet to see her face…

“That is wise, I am sure. I suppose that means you have no interest in knowing that her granddaughter was quite distraught that they had to leave so abruptly. And just before midnight too. I understand the masks had yet to be removed?”

“That is correct, but I did not wear one.”

“Of course you did not. Heaven forfend you add levity to your dreary existence,” his aunt mocked good-naturedly before her countenance turned serious. “It has been five years, Fitzwilliam.”

She rarely used his Christian name—only when she was about to berate him.

“My dear brother would have been grieved to see that you have become so serious. Your burdens are heavy and many, but some liveliness is allowed as long as you do not shirk your duties, and we both know that will never happen.”

“I did last summer…”

“No, you did not. You saved Georgiana from a horrible fate, and now it is time to save yourself from becoming an old curmudgeon at seven-and-twenty.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked in earnest.

“Come with me to Limerick House on the morrow and bring sweet Georgiana. I have someone I would like her to meet. Lord Limerick’s great-niece would be a delightful friend to my own niece, and perhaps more…”

She did not say that she might become Georgiana’s sister, but they both knew that was what she left unsaid. It effectively proved that Eilís was still unmarried, or his aunt could not have made such an assumption. He did not bother to correct her premature conclusion. It was too early to speak of marriage, but she must have received a full report of the evening, and he was well aware that he had acted out of character. He was infamous for avoiding entanglements, to the great consternation of marriage-minded mamas and their daughters.

When and who would become Mrs Darcy would be his choice, and not the result of nefarious scheming.

“Are you not the least bit curious about what more my friend had to say?”

Darcy mock scowled at his aunt, who was uncommonly coy today.

“According to my new friend, you made an exceedingly favourable impression upon her granddaughter, and she has been pining for a word from you for nigh on six months. She has been quite out of sorts that you have not called…”

His stomach flipped. She had been as affected as he, and hope surged through his veins.

#

Darcy slept poorly, and his sister was regarding him with a quizzical expression the next morning. He stopped fidgeting with his signet ring and looked unseeingly out of the carriage window. The moment had come, and his sentiments wavered between anticipation and dread. After all, he had never seen her face but for the stunning eyes, long dark lashes, and a glimpse of her tempting lips. He was more familiar with her figure than her face, which was an odd notion. She was tall and carried herself with a debonair elegance that was utterly exquisite.

Yet, he could not but harbour a sliver of worry that he might be disappointed when he saw her without the mask. He had formed an image that might have no bearing in reality. The resemblance to another young lady he had recently met was eerie and may have fooled him into conjuring unattainable perfection.

Would it matter? He had no answer to his own question, but he was about to discover the truth. The carriage drew to a halt. A footman lowered the steps and opened the door. He alighted first and aided his aunt and sister safely to the pavement. With his back to Limerick House, he wondered whether she was anxiously waiting, even stealing clandestine glances from behind a curtain, or, God forbid, she was indifferent and had forgotten all about the June evening at the Argyll Rooms.

The butler announced them, and Darcy entered behind his aunt and Georgiana. Beside Lord Limerick’s sister sat none other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet—now Lady Elizabeth, of course—with a healthy glow to her delicate cheeks. It confirmed that his suspicions at Netherfield had been correct—Elizabeth and Eilís were related.

“Miss Darcy, how nice of you to call. I was just thinking about you.” The lady of the house greeted them all warmly and glanced at Elizabeth, who turned her head to gaze out of the window.

His interest in her was unnerving him, especially since he was about to reunite with Eilís. It would not do if she caught him ogling another lady. He swallowed and let his eyes travel the room only to discover that there were no other occupants. Eilís was not present, but at least he had found someone who must know where she was. He bowed deeply whilst Aunt Eudora greeted her friend with warmth. Judging by their low whispers, the matrons had concocted some form of scheme. But if so, where was Eilís?

“Thank you, my dear. I have brought my nephew and niece today. I understand that Darcy is acquainted with your granddaughter, and the young must have much to relate. It has been so long since they were last in each other’s company.”

The matron nudged Elizabeth, and by that lady’s serious expression he believed she might have preferred to forgo his company altogether. She smiled benignly at Georgiana, who looked forlorn as she stood wringing her hands with her eyes fixed on the floor.

Elizabeth approached his shy sister and curtseyed. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy.”

She offered no greeting to him; a slight that did not go unnoticed by her grandmother, who gritted an admonishing, “Eilís!” through clenched teeth.

“Excuse my poor manners, Mr Darcy. I did not notice you,” she lied. “What a pleasure to see you again so soon.”

Darcy flinched and stared at her as he had done so many times before. It was not her words as much as the sarcastic tone in which it was delivered. Belatedly, his brain registered that Mrs Bennet had called her Eilís. To be certain he looked over his shoulder, but no one had entered behind him, and a sickening feeling formed at the pit of his stomach.

“Would you allow me to introduce my sister to you,” Darcy fumbled. The muscles in Lady Elizabeth’s cheeks showed some sign of activity. They had just been introduced by his aunt, and he fervently hoped she would not laugh at him. He was much relieved when she schooled her expression.

“Certainly, it is my great pleasure to meet your lauded sister.”

It was the wrong thing to say, because Georgiana shrank before their eyes. Lady Elizabeth noticed and immediately and easily amended the way she approached his sister.

“I have heard that you are a great lover of music, and I long to converse with someone who shares my interest. You see, I have four sisters, and not one is the slightest bit interested in music. Although one of my sisters plays, the endeavour is driven by duty rather than pleasure.”

Georgiana’s eyes flitted to her face. “That is impossible,” she whispered.

Elizabeth had made an elegant turn and drawn Georgiana in. He admired the ease with which she conversed and made even his reserved sister feel comfortable.

“It is a slight exaggeration, but not by as much as one would think. I must warn you, though, that my passionate interest by no means is matched with any reasonable talent. My playing is tolerably good but cannot compare to the proficient masters I have heard in town. If your brother allows, may we abscond to the music room and play?”

The banter reminded him of a certain masquerade where Eilís, Elizabeth, Queen Elizabeth, or whatever she preferred to be called, had occasionally outwitted him. Elizabeth glanced at him without meeting his eyes. He had to look down at his coat to see whether he had sullied himself, but her eyes were fixed on a silver button on his waist-coated chest.

“Indeed, I have no objections,” he croaked in an unfamiliar voice.

“You may, but not before you have shown my friend your costume,” Mrs Bennet interjected.

The matrons exchanged knowing looks, but Elizabeth’s rigid stance showed that she ardently opposed the request. Perhaps it was a secret?

“Certainly,” she finally acquiesced and disappeared down the hall.

She returned a few minutes later carrying a red dress he recognised immediately, and all the air was ripped from his lungs. A frigid shiver ran through him as Lady Elizabeth pulled a pair of shoes from beneath the generous skirt.

“Imagine dancing in these monstrosities!” She smiled at Georgiana.

The heels were ridiculously high, and much higher than anything he had ever seen before.

“Heaven forbid!” Georgiana exclaimed with feeling.

“You managed exceedingly well,” Mrs Bennet boasted. “You did not stumble once,” she declared.

“Not true,” Lady Elizabeth corrected. “I did, but you are kind to pretend not to have noticed.”

She presented the shoes for Aunt Eudora to examine. “I cannot fathom how you managed to walk,” his aunt remarked in astonishment.

“I can attest that it was with great difficulty. I was fortunate only to stumble a couple of times, and not once did I fall.” Lady Elizabeth hummed in that deep and pleasant voice he had heard so little since the masquerade. Why had he not recognised it? Because she had avoided him at all costs and hardly spoken a word to him that was not strictly necessary. Which was perfectly understandable in view of his behaviour.

“But why would you subject yourself to such inconvenience?” his outspoken aunt enquired with her usual frankness.

“I was portraying Queen Elizabeth, and she was, as you know, tall and striking with a pale complexion and golden red hair. I had to dye my hair and painted a full face-mask porcelain white, to which I added her famous bright red lips.”

“She was a sight to behold,” Mrs Bennet gushed. “She turned the heads of several gentlemen that evening,” she added with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Shall we adjourn to the music room, Miss Darcy?” Lady Elizabeth suggested abruptly. She hung the dress on a chair to be admired and approached Georgiana with an extended arm.

Mrs Bennet looked in bewilderment between Darcy and Lady Elizabeth before she exchanged a concerned glance with his aunt.

Georgiana accepted her arm but looked at him for guidance. “My brother—”

“He is too polite to impose upon two young ladies with secret affairs to discuss,” Lady Elizabeth interrupted, escorting his sister out of the room.

Darcy was left awkwardly rooted to the floor, in the middle of the room, with his mind reeling. Every encounter with Miss Elizabeth Bennet played in rapid succession through his mind, including the assembly, where his cruel remarks had made her fine eyes water and spill. Her subsequent efforts to avoid him suddenly made perfect sense. He had grievously injured her and then made sport of her by following her around—effectively thwarting her efforts to escape his company—and adding insult to injury at Lucas Lodge, Netherfield, and Bingley’s ball. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was Eilís!

His eyes misted, and he bowed his head to the floor. What could be done? Nothing! It was in every way horrible, with no hope of redemption. He had lost.

“Darcy!” Aunt Eudora touched his arm and brought him out of his miserable thoughts. “What is the matter? I have called your name three times with no response.”

“Pardon me. I have a twinge of a headache,” he lied. “Please, do not allow my slight indisposition to ruin your visit.”

“Then you must at least sit,” Aunt Eudora insisted.

Darcy let himself be led listlessly to a chair and sat where he was put. Mrs Bennet ordered a cup of willow bark tea, and he drank the bitter concoction obediently, but the fuzziness made him feel wretched. He did not deserve their compassion.

An eternity later, Georgiana returned, giggling, her head bent closely to Elizabeth’s. It was just further proof of his failings. Of course Lady Elizabeth was the perfect woman to bring his reserved sister much-needed joy and companionship.

“It has been a pleasure, my dear.” Aunt Eudora rose.

Darcy hoped he had managed to thank Mrs Bennet for her hospitality as well but could not remember when he stepped out of the door. Georgiana chatted happily about her time with Lady Elizabeth whilst his aunt stared out of the window with a tight expression around her mouth. He conveyed her to her home and handed her out himself.

“We shall discuss what happened later,” Aunt Eudora announced with a quick glance at his sister. Darcy was glad she had the wherewithal to spare Georgiana the sordid story.

It was with a heavy heart that he entered his house. When he had left this morning, he had a fervent hope that his life would no longer be lonely and void of the companionship only the lady of his heart could provide. He returned with shattered aspirations. Georgiana disappeared to the music room to practise a piece of music she hoped to play with Lady Elizabeth. He did not have the heart to disabuse her. It was highly unlikely Elizabeth would have anything more to do with the sister of the most disagreeable gentleman of her acquaintance.

#

Elizabeth

Elizabeth had stiffened in her seat when the butler had announced Mr Darcy, and by the time their visitors entered, the air had been as frigid as a winter filled with woe. His eyes had swept the room as if he was looking for something, or rather someone. Someone other than the country bumpkin Elizabeth Bennet.

It was plain to see that Mr Darcy’s opinion of her had changed once he had become aware of her elevated status. Of course, now that he had discovered she was not without desirable connections, he would want to introduce his sister…

He paid her every deference as Lady Elizabeth. The contrast between how he had behaved towards her when she was the plebeian Miss Elizabeth brought a foul taste to her mouth. Mr Darcy was nothing but an arrogant, prideful man who thought about nothing but standing and consequence, which was a trait that she could not respect. His disappointment when he discovered that she was Queen Elizabeth must have been very great indeed. Mr Darcy’s crestfallen expression bespoke his shock. The very thing she feared the most had happened—her face was a disappointment. He did not regard her as beautiful, merely tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt him. Why had he come?

If it were to further disparage her, she did not plan to be as lenient as she had been in the past. The blindfold had been ripped from her eyes, and she could see him for what he was—a pompous, arrogant, insufferable oaf, devoid of every feeling. And this infatuation she suffered must naturally abate with time.

The butler entered with a letter addressed to Elizabeth on a silver salver. She unfolded the paper and was stunned at its contents. Her dear friend was engaged to be married to none other than Mr Collins.

“Unfathomable,” she whispered.

“My thoughts exactly,” her grandmother replied drily. “Please enlighten me, Eilís. What have you done to poor Mr Darcy?”

“Nothing,” she replied truthfully.

“Do not play coy with me. You must know why he has turned from an ardent lover to a miserable creature who hardly dared speak a word to you. Do not think that I missed your cold reception, and I must admit that I was heartily disappointed in you. Why, you hardly talked about anything but Mr Darcy after the masquerade. Yet, since your return to London you have not mentioned him once. I thought that it was because you despaired of ever seeing him again. His aunt and I were greatly anticipating reuniting the two of you, as I have it on good authority that he was as bewitched by you as you were by him. What happened, Elizabeth?”

Grandmother only used her English name when she was cross—a notion that Elizabeth could not bear. It broke the dams that had teetered on the verge of destruction for weeks. Once unleashed, the tears gushed down her cheeks in a steady, untameable stream.

“Oh dear!” Her grandmother rose and enveloped her in her arms. “Let us adjourn to my sitting room. We can speak freely there, where no one can hear us.”

Elizabeth managed to nod and kept her head down until they entered her grandmother’s sanctuary. She sat whilst her grandmother went to her chamber for a fresh handkerchief. Through the door of the room she had never entered she saw an intriguing painting. It was a young boy with a halo of white curls on his head. He was dressed in a pink coat and short breeches. It was her father as a young boy, but that was not what surprised her. They had a similar painting at home, but in the one here, a girl who appeared to be exactly the same age stood smiling with her hand laced with his.

“Who is that girl with my father?” she questioned her grandmother when she returned with the handkerchief.

“That is Catherine, his twin sister.”

Elizabeth forgot her own misery for a spell at that shocking news.

“I did not know you had a daughter or that my father had a sister.”

“She died before you were born, and the subject is painful to me. I beg you not to enquire any further. Besides, I am not to be distracted from my purpose. We were discussing Mr Darcy, and I shall not rest until you have related all your dealings with the man.”

Elizabeth did as requested and told her grandmother everything she remembered from when she had left town last summer until Mr Darcy had entered their parlour that very day.

When she had finished, the matron looked pensive. “He mortified your vanity, which justly incurred your contempt and indignation,” she declared.

“How unreal and fleeting the glories of love are,” Elizabeth lamented. “I was a child, unprepared for the heavy affliction that had befallen my heart like a thunderbolt. Yet, these events withered a healthy affection irrevocably and crushed its hopes forever.”

“I would not go that far,” her grandmother replied. “Love is complicated and may begin with more pain than pleasure, but I assure you, it is worth it in the end. Do not despair yet.”

“I bow to my fate, which compels me to resign any aspirations I previously may have harboured,” Elizabeth said with humility.

“I need some time to think…” Her grandmother appeared lost to the world after that remark. Elizabeth left her to her contemplations to reply to Charlotte’s letter.

Dear Charlotte,

I do not know whether I shall be able to come to your wedding as my grandmother has embarked upon refurbishing the house and Uncle Henry is forever occupied with his business.

I would love nothing more than to visit your new home at Easter, but as my family’s plans are not yet fixed, I can make no promises.

Life in London is rather dull at the moment. We have few engagements and even less good society. I miss my friends, and your letters are a great comfort to me…

Over the following days, her grandmother was much occupied and left the house for hours on end. Elizabeth surmised she was ordering fabrics and furniture.