Page 19

T he day after he saw Miss Bennet at Bullock’s, Darcy was shown into his Aunt Matlock's private sitting room at Matlock House, a sanctuary of refined taste where she composed her most important correspondence and received only her most intimate acquaintances.

Her favourite collection of small Roman antiquities was prominently displayed on shelves that ran the length of one wall.

There was a great deal of difference between Lady Matlock's pieces and those at Bullock's, but he could appreciate both.

His aunt's pieces were fewer but finer, each one selected with discerning judgement rather than gathered for spectacle.

Lady Matlock had always believed that quality transcended quantity, a philosophy she applied to art, acquaintances, and family connections alike.

His aunt looked up from her writing desk, setting aside her pen with deliberate care. "Darcy. At last, you grace us with your presence."

Though her words carried a note of reproof, her eyes displayed the affection she had always offered him. This made her disappointment in her tone all the more cutting.

Darcy bowed. "Aunt. I trust you are well?"

"Well enough to wonder why my nephew and godson finds it appropriate to announce his engagement via a hastily penned note rather than in person." She gestured to a letter on her desk that he recognized as his own. "You might have at least used better stationery."

He winced. His aunt's sharp tongue was legendary, but he had never before been its primary target. "My apologies. Events unfolded rather unexpectedly."

"So I gather." She rose and moved to a small settee, indicating he should take the chair opposite.

The chair, he noted, was slightly lower than the settee, a subtle arrangement that ensured his aunt would maintain the conversational advantage.

Or would, rather, were he not so tall a man.

"Sit. I want the truth, Fitzwilliam, not the salacious version circulating through drawing rooms across London. "

Darcy obeyed, feeling much as he had as a boy of twelve when caught in some minor transgression. His aunt had always possessed the ability to reduce him to that state with a mere look. "You have heard the rumours, then."

"Of course I have. Lord Ellington has been quite thorough in his insinuations." Her eyes, so like Fitzwilliam's own, fixed him with a penetrating gaze. "Something about a compromising situation in the garden during a masquerade?"

Darcy's jaw tightened at the mention of Ellington. "The essentials are true, though not in the way Ellington implies." He motioned to the note she held. "I believe I said as much."

"You are many things, nephew, but indiscreet has never been one of them." She leaned forward slightly. "Tell me what actually happened."

“I was introduced to Miss Bennet through the Abernathys not long after they arrived at Plimpington’s masquerade.”

“Did you ask the young ladies to dance?” his aunt inquired.

He glanced away.

“Darcy. How did you end up in the garden with Miss Bennet if you would not even ask her to dance? Did you not find her pretty?”

“She was wearing a mask, Aunt.”

Lady Matlock made a warning sound that issued like a growl from the back of her throat.

He sighed. “Yes. I found her pretty.”

“Very well. And then what happened?”

“What happens at every such event. The ladies were asked to dance, Abernathy took to the floor with his wife, and I met with some of my friends.”

His aunt appeared as though she should very much like to throttle him. “I would like to know what happened to lead us to the situation in which we find ourselves.”

Darcy realised he had teased her enough. "Miss Bennet stopped to admire the Neptune."

"Really?" his aunt inquired. "How interesting."

"Unfortunately, it led her to become separated from her party.

I attempted to reach her from across the floor, but before I could, she was already being harassed by Ellington.

She attempted to hide in the crowd but was somehow swept out to the garden when a group of people moved that way.

" He paused. "You know how crowded such balls can be. "

The countess nodded but did not speak, her expression inviting him to continue without interruption.

It was a technique she had used since his childhood, the silent prompt that inevitably drew out more than he had intended to reveal.

With her, he knew any confessions would be safe, and so he did not resist as much as he perhaps ought.

"I followed Miss Bennet out of doors with the intention of returning her to her friends."

"But that is not what happened," his aunt pointed out.

"No." Darcy's expression darkened momentarily. "She was in such a hurry to hide from Ellington that she lost one of her slippers in the middle of her flight. When I found her, she was hiding behind a hedge."

"And you were holding her shoe?"

"Yes, I picked it up. I ought to have handed it back straight away, but . . ." He closed his eyes. He had not meant to say that aloud.

Lady Matlock studied him. "Darcy," she said at last, her voice wondering. "Did you not return her slipper immediately because you wanted a reason to continue speaking with her?"

He grunted in some vague sort of agreement. "Then Ellington came in search of Miss Bennet, and I was still holding it."

Lady Matlock nodded, absorbing this. "And you offered for her immediately?"

"Nearly. My honour required it," Darcy said simply.

"I see."

He believed that she did.

His aunt studied him for a moment. "The Abernathys vouch for this Miss Bennet, I presume?"

"Unreservedly. They have known her family for some time. Miss Bennet and Miss Abernathy were children together."

His aunt nodded. "I know the Abernathys to be sensible people, not prone to keeping questionable company.

I like their daughter for Richard and told him as much when he informed me of his interest. Miss Abernathy is clever and has a fortune that would allow them to live well.

" Lady Matlock's expression softened slightly.

"Still, one must be cautious. There are many young women, and their families, who would engineer such a situation as yours deliberately. "

"Miss Bennet is not such a woman," Darcy said with unexpected vehemence.

His aunt raised an eyebrow. "You seem very certain."

"I am." He hesitated, then added, "In fact, she has shown a remarkable reluctance regarding our engagement."

"Reluctance?" Now both eyebrows rose. "A country gentleman's daughter reluctant to marry the master of Pemberley? That is unusual."

"Miss Bennet is unusual," Darcy said quietly. “Well-read, quick-witted.”

At that moment, the door to the sitting room opened, and Lord Matlock entered, his tall frame filling the doorway. He was still a handsome man, though his dark hair had long since turned silver.

"Helena, have you seen my—" He stopped short upon seeing Darcy.

"Nephew! I did not know you were calling today.

" His expression brightened. "How fortunate.

I have been meaning to speak with you about the new drainage system you implemented at Pemberley last year.

The steward at our northern estate has been making a terrible mess of—"

"Henry," Lady Matlock interrupted, "Darcy is here to discuss his engagement."

Lord Matlock's enthusiasm visibly dimmed. "Ah. Is he? Well, then." He glanced towards the door. "Perhaps I should—"

"Stay," Lady Matlock commanded. "This concerns the family. Besides, your input might be valuable."

"My input on engagements?" Lord Matlock looked sceptical. "I believe I exhausted my wisdom on that subject some thirty years ago when I requested you consider my proposal. As I recall, you threw a book at my head and called me a nincompoop."

Despite his discomfort, Darcy found himself smiling. His uncle's good humour had always been a counterbalance to his aunt's more serious nature.

"I wanted a proper proposal, Henry, and you did offer one, eventually. Sit down," Lady Matlock said, though her lips turned upward as she looked at her husband. "Darcy was just telling me about his Miss Bennet."

Lord Matlock settled into a chair with the resigned air of a man who knew better than to argue with his wife. "Very well. Though I warn you, nephew, if she asks for my opinion on wedding breakfast menus or new gowns, I shall find urgent business elsewhere."

"I assure you, Uncle, that is the furthest thing from my mind at present," Darcy replied.

"Good lad." Lord Matlock nodded. "Now, this Miss Bennet. She is the one from the masquerade, I presume? The one Ellington has been making such a fuss about?"

"Yes," Darcy confirmed.

"Thought as much. The lordling was at the club last night, insinuating all manner of things." Lord Matlock's jovial expression hardened slightly. "Had to remind him rather firmly that he was speaking about the future Mrs. Darcy."

Darcy felt slightly giddy hearing Miss Bennet referred to in such a way. It should have been merely a statement of fact, yet he was aware he had work to do to make it a reality that he and Miss Bennet could live with.

"Thank you, Uncle," he said quietly.

"Nothing to thank me for. Family is family." Lord Matlock waved a dismissive hand. “And Ellington's been on thin ice at the club for months. His debts are becoming problematic, which is fortunately keeping his rumours from gaining much ground."

"Henry," Lady Matlock interjected, "Darcy was about to tell me more about Miss Bennet. Her character, her background."

"Ah, yes." Lord Matlock settled back. "Proceed. I shall attend."

Darcy shifted uncomfortably. Discussing Elizabeth with his aunt had been difficult enough.

Lady Matlock, perceptive as always, noted his discomfort. "Fitzwilliam was just telling me that Miss Bennet is well-read and lively."

"Was he?" Lord Matlock looked surprised. "High praise indeed from our reserved nephew."