Page 6

E lizabeth sat at the dressing table as Lily, the Abernathys' lady's maid, twisted her dark curls into an elegant coiffure. The looking glass reflected her pensive expression, which she had been attempting to mask since the disastrous events of the masquerade ball the previous evening.

A light knock at the door preceded Arabella's entrance. Her dearest friend appeared in a gown of pale blue silk, her fair hair already perfectly arranged with pearls and two sapphire pins that caught the candlelight.

"Oh, how well you look, Lizzy," Arabella exclaimed, crossing to the dressing table. “I wish my hair curled as yours does.”

Elizabeth attempted a smile. "I shall never be your equal in looks, but Lily is to be commended for her skill in taming my wild locks.”

Arabella scoffed, and the maid smiled.

Her friend’s expression was both sympathetic and assessing. "Lily, might I assist Miss Bennet with her gown this evening?"

Lily bobbed a curtsy. "Of course, Miss Abernathy. I have pressed it and laid it upon the bed. Will there be anything else?"

"No, I thank you," Arabella replied. "We shall manage the rest."

When Lily had gone, Elizabeth rose from the dressing table.

“I do not want to marry because of an assumed compromise.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “You of all people know why.”

Arabella touched her arm lightly as she walked past, and Elizabeth stopped. Her friend led her to the bed where her gown awaited and helped Elizabeth slip the dress on over her chemise and stays.

“Because of your parents?” she asked softly.

“Yes.”

Arabella finished with the gown and then picked up Elizabeth’s earrings. "Turn around, let me help you with these." As she fastened the first, she continued in a lower voice. "No one is taking advantage of Mr. Darcy here. He is offering.” She paused for a moment.

“All I know of him is that he did not immediately hand back my slipper, spoke my name when Lord Ellington would not otherwise have known it, and then he told everyone we were engaged! This entire mess is his fault!”

“Lizzy,” Arabella chided her.

Elizabeth sighed heavily. “Very well, it is not entirely his fault. The greater portion of the blame belongs to that reptilian Lord Ellington, and my own stupid curiosity. If I had not stopped to have a better look at that marble sculpture of Neptune, I would not have lost you to begin with.”

“Oh, was it nice?”

“Stunning.”

“I am sorry I missed it.” Arabella fastened the second earring, then stepped back to assess the effect. "You look beautiful."

Elizabeth sat abruptly. “I cannot do this. Please make my excuses to your mother. Tell her I have a headache.”

Her friend studied her for a moment. "You know,” she said slyly, her eyes brightening with sudden inspiration, “if you truly wish to avoid this marriage, you must convince him to withdraw his offer."

"How might I accomplish that?" Elizabeth asked. She had been thinking on it all day and still had no solid plan other than to remain recalcitrant with him and hope he tired of her. "Society dictates he must go through with it, now that he has announced it."

"Society cannot force him if he finds you genuinely unsuitable," Arabella pointed out. "He offered because he believes you to be a proper gentlewoman who found herself in an unfortunate situation. You must prove yourself otherwise."

"Are you suggesting that I behave improperly?" Elizabeth shook her head. "I cannot do that, Belle, not even for this."

"You misunderstand me. I do not believe you need to act improperly," Arabella clarified. "But perhaps you might reveal aspects of your character that a man like Mr. Darcy would find unsuitable in a wife."

"What aspects?"

Arabella met her gaze and nodded once. "Your intellect, for one. Most gentlemen prefer wives who admire their opinions rather than challenge them. Your knowledge of politics, literature, even agriculture far exceeds what most men find comfortable in a wife."

Elizabeth considered this. She and Jane had shared most of Arabella’s lessons, and she had loved every moment of them. "You believe I should display my education rather than conceal it?"

"Precisely." Arabella nodded. "I shall ensure that the topic of books arises, and when it does, you must speak of your interest in philosophy and politics in addition to poetry and novels. Express opinions on matters beyond the domestic sphere. Show him the full force of your mind."

Elizabeth smiled, the first time she had felt like smiling since the incident. She had tried, a little, at the ball. But perhaps a more determined course would work. "And in doing so, I would only be telling the truth. You truly believe that will dissuade him?"

"Of course!” Arabella cried. “Men like Mr. Darcy expect wives who enhance their consequence through beauty and accomplishments like painting, music, embroidery.

Not women who might challenge their opinions or question their judgment.

" She hesitated, then added, "Though I confess, I believe you are making a mistake in wishing to end this engagement. "

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. "How can you say so? You know I have always vowed to marry only where true respect and admiration exists."

"And you cannot imagine developing either for Mr. Darcy?" Arabella asked, her expression suddenly serious.

“It is not that so much as . . .” Elizabeth frowned. “I can tell simply from the way he was attired last night that he is a man of great wealth. Such a man could never be pleased to marry a country girl with no fortune or connections.”

“I beg your pardon?” Arabella asked, drawing herself up. “Are you not connected to the Abernathys?”

Elizabeth smiled at her friend. “I am indeed. I suppose I have one exalted connection to my name. But Belle, these are the actions of a gentleman following the dictates of honour, not a man acting from genuine regard."

Arabella sighed. "I still think this is a mistake. Nevertheless, I promised to help you, and so I shall. If you truly wish to free yourself from this engagement, I will assist you in demonstrating how entirely unsuitable you are as the future Mrs. Darcy."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, embracing her friend briefly. "I knew I could depend upon you."

Arabella returned the embrace. "Come," she said, smoothing her skirts. "We must go down. Remember, speak freely on intellectual matters. Quote philosophy if the opportunity arises. Contradict him if he makes the slightest error in fact or judgment."

Elizabeth took a breath to steady her resolve. "I shall.” She followed Arabella from the chamber, preparing herself for the evening ahead.

Darcy stood by the window of Mr. Abernathy's study, gazing out at the nearly full moon as he awaited the arrival of his host. It was the same moon he had seen in the garden last night, and his mind returned to the masquerade ball, the fleeing figure in the Athena costume, the abandoned slipper, and the moment when whispers began to circulate amongst the guests.

The door opened behind him, and Darcy turned to find Mr. Abernathy entering, a decanter of brandy in one hand and two glasses in the other.

"Darcy, thank you for arriving early as requested," Mr. Abernathy said, placing the glasses on his desk and filling them. "I thought we might have a private word before the other guests join us for dinner."

"Of course," Darcy replied, crossing to accept the offered glass. "I presumed you wished to discuss last evening."

"Indeed." Mr. Abernathy settled into the leather chair behind his desk, gesturing for Darcy to take the seat opposite. "First, I neglected to offer you condolences last night on the death of your great-uncle.”

“I thank you.”

“He was a judge, was he not?”

“He retired some years ago, but yes. I offered him his own chambers at Darcy House, but he declined. He was a fiercely independent and severe sort of man.”

“And the ball was your first foray back into society after your mourning?”

“It was.”

The mourning period had been brief. Though he had respected his great-uncle, he had not known him well.

The judge had not approved of Darcy, particularly his willingness to befriend those not from the oldest families, and the few letters he sent to his nephew dwelled on his disdain for the way the world was changing.

Even so, as the only surviving Darcy male, his great-uncle had left him almost everything he had in the world upon his demise.

Darcy had thought a good deal about what to do with the funds, which were substantial.

His first thought had been to make a gift to Fitzwilliam, but his cousin had refused to take so much as a shilling.

Darcy gazed momentarily at the amber liquid in his glass, contemplating his situation.

He possessed more wealth than most men could imagine.

Pemberley's income alone, properly managed, would assure comfort for several generations, and now his great-uncle's fortune had added substantially to his reserves.

His sister Georgiana was provided for separately, and beyond her, there was no one.

The idea that Miss Bennet lacked fortune seemed almost laughable in context.

His great-uncle's inheritance alone could easily support a wife with no dowry.

It was not pecuniary advantage he sought, but a companion.

Because he had not yet been actively seeking a wife, he had not thought deeply about what traits she ought to possess other than the common accomplishments he had been taught to value.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet offered the possibility of something altogether different. Better.

“I must express my gratitude for your honourable response to the situation,” Mr. Abernathy was saying. “Many gentlemen of your standing might have chosen a different path."

Darcy inclined his head. "There was no question of any other course of action once Miss Bennet's reputation was endangered."