Page 3 of The Twelfth Knight

London was abuzz with talk about the Prince of Wales’s announcement in the Boxing Day papers.

All that it had revealed was that twelve men would receive the honor of a knighthood—no names were given. Speculation abounded as to who the men would be, who their families were, and who all besides those men would be invited to the Twelfth Night ball at which the ceremony would take place.

Amongst the chatter was whether or not the Prince Regent’s mother, Queen Charlotte, would make an appearance at the ball.

In the two days between their arrival and the night of the dinner at Bertram House, Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Lady Disley did the necessary shopping for new gowns befitting an appearance at a royal ball. Madame Le Blanc was, as always, delighted to take on the commission for the gowns, assuring the ladies that her seamstresses could have them done in time.

“They will work day and night if they must,” she insisted.

Elizabeth had laughed. “My dear lady, I hope you will not stress yourself or your girls over such a matter as this. Take your time—if I must, I will have my maid make over one of my older gowns.”

Lady Disley gasped. “Elizabeth, you will not!” she cried. “This is a royal ball—you simply must have a new gown!”

“My lady, there are but ten days until the ball, and I cannot condone forcing anyone to lose sleep over making a dress,” Elizabeth replied. “Besides, I have a number of gowns which have not been seen in London, so to the rest of society, they will look brand new.”

“No, Madame Darcy, Her Ladyship is correct,” spoke up the modiste. “For so important an occasion as this, a new gown is required. However, I do very much appreciate your consideration for me and my girls, so I shall help you worry less with the promise to hire as many as necessary to complete these three gowns in time for the prince’s ball.”

Elizabeth smiled at her. Madame le Blanc was always so accommodating, and in truth so delightful to converse with during fittings. She knew that the seamstress took good care of the ladies who worked for her, and that they were paid better wages than some of the other dressmakers in town paid their staff.

“Very well, a new gown it shall be. I do like this one very much,” Elizabeth said as she pointed to one of the modiste’s own designs.

Madame le Blanc smiled widely. “Madame Darcy, how extraordinary you should choose that gown! I confess I imagined you in it as I sketched it.”

“There!” cried Lady Disley. “Do you see, Elizabeth? You were meant to have it.”

“Yes, Aunt, I see that now,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh.

“I hope that one day, a fabulous dressmaker like Madame—perhaps even Madame herself—will think of me when she designs such a beautiful gown,” Georgiana said wistfully as she returned to perusing sketches.

“Perhaps, my dear, when you announce your engagement, we may commission your trousseau here,” the countess observed.

“Oh, c’est magnifique !” cheered Madame le Blanc as she clapped her hands together. “I should be honoured to make the wedding clothes of Mademoiselle Darcy.”

Georgiana looked at her. “And I shall be delighted to have you and your girls make them, Madame. If only my brother will actually allow me to get married.”

“You must have many suitors, Mademoiselle,” observed the seamstress.

Georgiana colored. “I have met a number of fine gentlemen the last two Seasons,” she said. “But truthfully, only one who really made me feel anything for him.”

“Then he is a very fortunate gentleman, I am certain,” Madame le Blanc said.

“Most fortunate indeed, Madame,” said Elizabeth. “My sister has the dearest heart in the world—whomever she gives that heart will be among the most fortunate men in the world.”

“Oh Lizzy, you are always too kind to me,” Georgiana said with a smile.

“It is the truth, my dear niece; Elizabeth is only observing it,” said Lady Disley.

The ladies soon commenced with having their measurements taken and their fabrics chosen, and when they were in the carriage again, Georgiana said, “Aunt, I must say that I am surprised.”

“By what, my dear?” asked the countess.

“Well, you haven’t objected to my admiration of Mr. Bertram. You and my Aunt Catherine are usually among the first to wish to avoid scandal, and that is all that William seems to concern himself with.”

Lady Disley arched an eyebrow. “You are correct, Georgiana—I would much rather avoid a scandal than invite one—and given the unfortunate circumstances the Bertrams found themselves in near five years ago now, I shall be frank and tell you that I wish you had attached yourself to someone else. A gentleman of higher rank and greater fortune—and whose family was free of embarrassment—would be ideal for a young lady of your rank and fortune and connexions.”

She then drew a breath and released it slowly. “However… Despite my fastidious defense of the reputation of this family, I understand that love matches are the thing these days, and the heart wants what it wants. And I know that your dear departed mother would rather you marry for affection than connexions.”

Lady Disley then reached across the carriage and took Georgiana’s hand in her own. “Not to mention, dearest, that I only want to see you as happy in marriage as your brother.”

Elizabeth reached for Georgiana’s other hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And if the rich and connected Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley can survive the shock of the ton for marrying a fortuneless country girl with connexions to trade, then certainly you—and this family—can survive any talk regarding the previous misfortunes of Mr. Bertram’s family.”

Across the carriage, Lady Disley grinned widely. “I must also confess that my husband’s sister has heard of the gentleman’s interest in you and has vehemently objected to the idea—which makes supporting your choice all the more appealing.”

Georgiana shook her head, chuckling as she did so. “I cannot say I am surprised, for I cannot recall a time you and my aunt ever agreed on anything.”

“Truth be told, neither can I,” the countess replied. “It has always been much more fun to disagree with her than to agree.”

“My husband would not be on speaking terms with her at all if I had not encouraged him to reconcile,” Elizabeth added. “Much as I disagree with Lady Catherine’s views and opinions and have admittedly been insulted by her numerous occasions of disrespecting me, I could not in good conscience be the cause of discord between them.”

“So, if Mr. Bertram and I should decide to marry, and my brother agrees, will you broker peace between us and Lady Catherine again?”

Elizabeth nodded. “If I must, and if you wish it—although I suspect if she were to be as abusive in her language of you as she was of me, your brother will have done with her for good, and you might do better to follow his lead.”

Georgiana drew a breath. “In this matter, as in many others, I have followed William’s lead and been happy to do so,” said she. “For I know he is older and more worldly, and more experienced in life in general.”

“But?” prompted Lady Disley.

“But I do not think him correct about Tom—Mr. Bertram. I know he is a good man; I just hope that my brother can disregard his prejudice and see it for himself.”

Elizabeth slipped her arm around Georgiana’s shoulders and gave a light squeeze. “I am certain he will, dearest.”

-…-

As the Darcy carriage trundled across London, Darcy sensed himself feeling uncharacteristically nervous.

The moment he realized what the strange sensation coursing through him was, he questioned why on earth such a thing would occur, as he rarely—if ever—felt nervous. Elizabeth was the only person who had ever made him feel vulnerable, and then only twice in the years he had known her: when had proposed to her the second time, and when she had labored for their son. The latter, which he was loathe to label fear, he would feel again in about six months’ time.

Tonight, he knew, it was about his sister. Would Tom Bertram prove to him that he was a changed man? Would the Bertram family as a whole be able to prove themselves worthy to be connected to the noble Darcy and Fitzwilliam lines in spite of the scandal?

As reluctant as he was to give the protection of his sister over to another, the gentleman found himself feeling a thread of hope. The sparkle of excitement in Georgiana’s eyes as they had readied to leave Darcy House told him that her heart was much more engaged than she realized, and if he could not find the capacity to agree to a courtship, let alone a marriage, between her and Tom Bertram…

Well, he did not care to contemplate what the result might be.

When they exited the carriage before Bertram House, a gust of cold wind nearly stole Darcy’s breath, and as he aided Elizabeth in alighting, he prayed that the Bertrams’ butler was quick in answering the door. He did not want his wife or sister to stand long in the cold, especially given Elizabeth’s condition.

“Do not be nervous, cousin,” Darcy heard Fitzwilliam say softly to Georgiana as the four made their way toward the house. “I am sure the evening will go well.”

“Thank you, Theodore,” Georgiana replied in a distinctly nervous tone. “Both for your encouragement and your support. I must say that I thought you would be as adamant as William about refusing a connexion between myself and Mr. Bertram.”

Fitzwilliam chuckled. “My dear, I have seen too much of the world to give as much importance to rank, reputation, and wealth as others do. It is not worth risking the loss of something truly special to let the past define our future.”

Darcy resisted the urge to grimace as he tapped the knocker against the plate; his cousin had said the same to him during their discussion about Tom Bertram when the former had arrived at Pemberley.

The Bertrams’ butler was indeed prompt in answering the door, and they were soon inside a wide entry hall with a large fire ablaze in the hearth across from the door. Waiting maids took their outerwear and disappeared with the garments in silence as the older gentleman led the visitors to the drawing room. There he opened the door primly and announced,

“Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Miss Darcy, and The Honourable Colonel Theodore Fitzwilliam.”

Mr. and Mrs. Edmund Bertram stepped forward to greet them with welcoming smiles. Darcy was not remiss to the look Tom Bertram, who remained standing by the fireplace next to an older gentleman, gave to Georgiana.

He is… happy to see her , Darcy mused.

“My brother Tom I know you have met, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy,” Edmund Bertram was saying, “but I do not believe either of you have met my father, Sir Thomas Bertram.”

“No, sir, I do not believe my husband and I have had the pleasure,” Elizabeth replied.

“Indeed,” confirmed Darcy.

Sir Thomas stepped forward and bowed, then when the Darcys had returned the courtesy, he said, “I am very pleased to meet you at last. I have heard much of your family from my sons and my daughter Fanny.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance also, Sir Thomas,” Darcy replied civilly.

“It truly is,” added Elizabeth in a warmer tone. She then took on the office of introducing Fitzwilliam, after which Tom Bertram at last stepped forward.

He bowed from the waist, then said, “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, for accepting my sister’s invitation to dine.”

Mr. Bertram’s eyes then moved to Georgiana, and his expression softened. He smiled, bowed again, then said, “My d—Miss Darcy, what a very great pleasure it is to see you again. You look as lovely as I remember.”

Georgiana blushed and smiled. “You are too kind, Mr. Bertram. You are looking very well yourself, sir.”

Mr. Bertram smiled widely, then he offered a greeting to Fitzwilliam. Mrs. Edmund Bertram invited them all to sit, stating that dinner was likely to be another ten minutes’ wait.

“And our cook is precise,” said Edmund Bertram with a chuckle. “The announcement will come in exactly ten minutes, I assure you.”

Polite, casual conversation had never come easily to Darcy, at least when among those he did not know well—or at all. He felt himself stiffening as the initial topic was the Season and who all might be seen in London over the next few months—gossip was his least favorite type of discussion. He felt himself stiffen immediately, and only Elizabeth’s delicate hand coming to rest on his arm helped him relax his posture.

Georgiana was, naturally, almost immediately enraptured by conversation with Mr. Bertram, but to Darcy’s surprise—and reluctant admiration—the other man did not allow his attention to be solely on her. While he obviously continued to admire her and paid his sister every courtesy, Darcy had to admit that he was paying every respect to the family’s other guests as well.

Only when Sir Thomas and Edmund Bertram began to discuss an issue regarding crop rotation did Darcy feel any interest in actively participating in the conversation. Mr. Edmund had just informed his father of success with the planting at Thornton Lacey—a smaller parish than Mansfield over which he obviously had some authority as vicar—the previous autumn, by having planted the crop in another part of the estate farm’s fields.

“That was a wise decision, Mr. Edmund,” offered Darcy. “My tenants and I have found that rotating certain crops every year, or every other year, not only keeps the soil and plants healthy, but it helps to keep the pest disturbance to a minimum.”

“That is exactly what we have been working on, Mr. Darcy!” said Edmund Bertram excitedly.

“We have been working with our tenants at Mansfield Park to do the same,” said Sir Thomas. “Have we not, Tom?”

“Indeed, Father, though some of them have been unfortunately reluctant to follow our advice.”

“Why should they not listen to you?” asked Georgiana.

“It is because many of the families are led by an older generation of farmers, Miss Darcy,” Mr. Bertram replied. “And these older men are simply too set in their ways to see the value in change.”

Though the statement was in no way directed at him, Darcy could not help but feel the truth of it in his core. Not only because some of his own tenants had felt the same, but because he, too, had been reluctant to accept the change in Mr. Bertram himself. He had been reluctant to see any possibility for happiness for Georgiana amidst a family who’d suffered a scandal, and he had been reluctant to hope that society at large would have forgotten said scandal enough to allow the family—his, the Fitzwilliams, and the Bertrams—to live in peace.

Perhaps , he thought, it is time to be the instrument of that change .

At that same moment, precisely ten minutes after their arrival, the butler entered the room and announced dinner.