Page 56 of The Shades of Pemberley
E lizabeth had no wish to return to London, for she had enjoyed her time alone with her new husband. William wanted to return no more than she did, as he told her himself.
“Perhaps we should return to Pemberley and eschew the season altogether.”
Elizabeth knew William was only half jesting—she suspected if she said yes, he would direct the carriage to the north at once. Much though Elizabeth wished to do just that, she knew there was no choice but to go to London. When she told him as much, William first pouted, and then he grinned.
“I suppose London is the best place for us at the moment, for I am curious about how you will take the naysayers of society to task for their impertinence.”
“It will not be so awful as you suggest,” replied Elizabeth, burrowing into his side a little more. “Not everyone is supercilious or full of their own importance.”
“You have no notion, Elizabeth,” replied William.
“I have some experience with the higher sets, whereas last year, when you attended, we confined our activities to those of my former station. Trust me, there will be many who will look down on us, me because I am a scion of the cadet line of the Darcy family, regardless of my current inheritance, and you because they will all know something of your background. The ladies will no doubt despise you because you captured a wealthy man before they vied for my favor.”
This representation of what they would face proved comical to Elizabeth, and she did not stint in releasing her laughter. “Even though you are nothing but ‘the scion of a cadet line,’ you suppose all the ladies would have pursued you?”
“Those of a certain level would. Ladies of the nobility would turn their noses up at me, but to the higher levels of the gentleman class, the wealth of the Darcy family and a connection to Matlock would trump my previous standing.”
“I suppose that is true,” replied Elizabeth. “Then I feel sorry for all those mercenary ladies, though not too sorry, you understand.”
“That is a relief to hear, Elizabeth. The protection you will afford me from such people is only second to your worth to me as a wife.”
“ That is a relief,” replied Elizabeth.
They passed the journey to London from Ramsgate engaged in such banter, which allowed the miles to pass with much less tedium.
Those two weeks in Ramsgate, Elizabeth would always cherish, for they had spent much time at the house, interspersed with slow walks along the beaches, patronizing the charming shops the town boasted, and even dinner at a café or two during their stay.
The most important point of all was that they had been alone in each other’s company—were there no responsibilities in London to uphold, they would be there even now.
The London townhome was as grand as Elizabeth recalled, though they did not need to contend with the staff lined up to meet them this time.
That evening, they stayed at home, enjoying one last evening together before they must endure society.
William received a few letters while they were gone, in particular one from his solicitor and another from Elizabeth’s father, who related a most amusing anecdote about Lady Catherine’s invasion of Longbourn the day they were to marry.
William was insufferably smug the entire evening, having predicted the lady’s actions in advance.
“It was not difficult, William,” said Elizabeth, diverted by his conceit. “Anyone with an acquaintance of more than a few moments with the lady could have predicted her actions.”
“Perhaps that is so, Elizabeth,” said William, though his satisfaction did not fade. “More important than her insistence on having her way is the fact that I have had you for a wife for two weeks now instead of only one. Do you not suppose that is worth celebrating?”
“Oh, without a doubt,” agreed Elizabeth. “As my father observed, had you conceived of the notion before you left for Derbyshire, we would have avoided Lady Catherine’s machinations altogether .”
“Yes, I suppose we would at that,” agreed William. “What do you suppose his lordship will think of her actions?”
“If he does not already know, I suspect it will not please him, though he will be equally unsurprised.”
“That much is certain.”
The following day, after a leisurely breakfast in each other’s company, one that consumed perhaps double the usual time because of their whispered conversation, spontaneous shows of affection, and quiet laughter, they made their way to the earl’s house, which was only a few streets away.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and as Elizabeth expressed a desire for a walk, William indulged her, though he cautioned against such displays.
“Why walk when we may ride in a carriage?” was his rhetorical question. “The great Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself would not scruple to avoid calling the carriage to make her way to her neighbor’s house!”
“I care little for how those of great wealth and vanity comport themselves; should I wish for a walk, you may be assured that I shall do so without reference to those unconnected to me.”
“Nor would I have suspected you of it,” replied William. “We need not care for others’ opinions, though I will note it will be easier for us in society should we at least appear fashionable.”
“The appearance is all I shall muster. I should much rather do what pleases me.”
The staff at the earl’s house were not expecting them, for they had sent no word of their arrival in London.
Yet it appeared they knew the Darcys would join them at some point, for the butler welcomed them and, taking their jackets and other spring accoutrements, consigned them to the care of the housekeeper who led them to the parlor in which the family had gathered.
“William, Lizzy!” exclaimed Kitty as they entered the room.
The girl rose and rushed to Elizabeth, catching her in an embrace that almost bowled her over, with Jane and Georgiana close behind, chattering about their pleasure on their return.
Lord Matlock and Lady Susan, the only others in the room, also rose and declared their welcome, and for several moments their reunion consisted of friendly greetings, embraces, and entreaties to sit and take refreshments with them.
Having finished their breakfast not long before, William and Elizabeth declined any further sustenance, and they all sat to exchange news.
“How was the house in Ramsgate, William?” asked Georgiana, fixing them with a sly smile. “Should I be vexed that you stole my holiday on the coast?”
“ Should you be?” asked William.
“No, I am quite content in London with Kitty’s company for the moment.” Georgiana grinned. “Perhaps I should accept Mrs. Younge’s insistence and assent to some time in Ramsgate. If I do, I shall insist on Kitty accompanying me there.”
“Do you wish to go?” asked William. “We can arrange it if you do.”
“Perhaps later this year,” said Georgiana. “I cannot think that Mrs. Younge would appreciate Kitty’s presence.”
Lord Matlock caught William’s eye, and Elizabeth did not miss the earl’s shake of his head or William’s responding nod. That suggested something further had happened with Mrs. Younge while they were away, but as his lordship wished to discuss it in private, it could not be an urgent matter.
“Mrs. Younge is in no position to protest anything,” replied William. “If she is not content with her position, she can resign, and we can hire another woman to replace her.”
Georgiana nodded, but she did not respond, and they allowed the subject to rest. That did not mean they did not discuss the subject of Georgiana’s residence.
“Do you wish to stay here, Georgiana, Kitty?” asked Elizabeth. “Now that we have returned, you are welcome to come to our house whenever you like.”
“I am most put out with you, Mrs. Darcy,” said the earl, his glare revealed to be a sham by his trembling lips. “With my daughters married, I have not had the good fortune to host such young ladies as these in some years. And now you wish to take them away?”
“That differs greatly from my father,” laughed Elizabeth. “I cannot but suppose Papa is enjoying his freedom from hordes of young ladies, all chattering about subjects for which he has no interest.”
“Not at all.” Lord Matlock winked. “Should I wish to recover from such talk, I may visit my club. Whenever I do that, I am reminded how stuffy they all are, and how fortunate I am to be among such company.”
Laughter rang out at the earl’s jest. “You should take my father under your wing and train him. Papa’s complaints about being stuck in a house with naught but young ladies are legendary.”
“Should it persist for months, I may come to agree with him.”
Amid the banter, the girls assured Elizabeth that they were quite comfortable at the earl’s house for the moment.
“If you recall,” said Kitty, “Mama, Mary, and Lydia are to come here soon. When they arrive, we shall join you at William’s house.”
“Very well,” said Elizabeth. Then she turned a grin on the earl and countess and said: “It is well that you are learning something of what hosting my family entails. Mary is quiet, but my mother has never lacked anything to say, and Lydia can create a ruckus enough for three girls her age.”
“Not at all, Mrs. Darcy,” said Lady Susan. “I am anticipating the experience, you may be certain.
“Now,” continued Lady Susan, “there is a matter we must discuss that is far more important than our current living arrangements. Now that you have come to London, we must go shopping as soon as possible to ensure you are outfitted for the season.”
Elizabeth, never having enjoyed shopping, grimaced her distaste, which Kitty found hilarious, and even Jane allowed a smile. The gentlemen looked on all this with amused fondness, William knowing while the earl appeared interested to learn the reason for the sudden change in mood.
“Lizzy has never enjoyed shopping, Lord Matlock,” said Jane, though her fond look at Elizabeth never altered.