Page 4 of The Twelfth Knight

When her husband emerged from his dressing room with his cravat still untied—and a gleam in his eye she knew all too well—Elizabeth shook her head and started toward him.

“Has Mr. Vincent suddenly forgot how to tie a cravat, my love?” she asked.

“Certainly not, madam,” Vincent replied in Darcy’s stead as he followed his master out of the dressing room with worn clothing over one arm, ostensibly to take it down to be laundered.

Elizabeth grinned at the feigned offense in the older man’s tone; it was a ritual that had been often repeated since the Darcys’ marriage, as Darcy had taken quite a liking to having his wife tie his cravats for him.

“I like the way you do it better, that is all,” Darcy said on cue.

Vincent huffed as though he were affronted as he exited their chambers, but Elizabeth knew he was secretly pleased to see his master in such a happy marriage and healthy relationship with the woman he loved. She reached up to the pressed silk hanging around Darcy’s neck and deftly began to arrange the tie in a perfect waterfall.

“Are you ready, William?” she asked casually as she worked.

Darcy snorted. “I shall never be ready.”

Elizabeth finished her work and patted his chest with one hand. “Think of it as practice, my dear husband. For I imagine it shall be ever more difficult for you to part with your actual daughters.”

“Do not remind me,” Darcy replied gruffly.

Over the last ten days, he had made Elizabeth proud by adhering to his resolve to give Tom Bertram—and his family by association—a chance to prove themselves worthy of his sister. Elizabeth, of course, believed he was giving society a chance to prove themselves decent enough to refrain from gossip more than he was vetting the Bertrams, for Sir Thomas and his younger son and daughter-in-law had been ever so kind and welcoming, and Tom Bertram had been most attentive to Georgiana. He had called on her nearly every day, had taken her for a ride in his curricle, had promenaded around Hyde Park with her, and he had been most determined to dance with her at the two balls they had attended. He had escorted Georgiana into dinner at the two dinner parties to which both families had been invited as well as the dinner Elizabeth had hosted at Darcy House to return the favor of having dined with the Bertrams. This dinner had also included Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle who lived in the city, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.

Sir Thomas was rather delighted to learn that Mr. Gardiner was the designer of every carriage he had purchased for the last ten years.

“Did I not now know that you were a tradesman, sir,” he’d said, “I would have marked you as a gentleman. You are so very well spoken!”

“Even tradesmen can be gentlemen, sir, though they do not have wealth and a large estate,” Mr. Gardiner had returned. “I believe that true gentlemanship lies more in a man’s character than in his fortune, residence, and connexions.”

Elizabeth had, for a moment, feared some form of reprisal from Sir Thomas; Darcy, too, for she had seen concern in her husband’s eyes. But the baronet had proved himself more evolved in his way of thinking than either had first perceived, for he had inclined his head and replied,

“How very wisely spoken, Mr. Gardiner. Since the unfortunate actions of my eldest daughter, I have come to understand that it is character that truly defines us, not the connexions we have nor the number of pounds in the bank.”

It was the only time Sir Thomas had ever directly referenced his daughter Maria aside from a private conversation with Darcy that the latter had relayed to Elizabeth afterward. The only contact that he had with her was through his man of business, who arranged for her expenses to be paid. Neither his wife nor his children ever answered the letters she or his sister by marriage, Mrs. Norris, wrote to them. Sir Thomas had admitted to consigning those addressed to him directly to the fire in his study, unopened.

Four years later, he was still deeply ashamed of how his daughter had nearly ruined her entire family’s reputation.

“Even now, the scandal hangs over our heads like the sword of Damocles, does it not? You hesitated, Mr. Darcy, to allow my son to court your sister because of it.”

Darcy, Elizabeth knew, had been unable to deny the claim.

In these ten days, however, his fears of Georgiana’s reputation being tarnished by the association appeared to be mostly unfounded. Only a few whispers had been overheard in the ballrooms, and Darcy had once been approached in his club by a man who’d hoped to marry Georgiana himself. Given the conduct of the Bertrams since that first meeting, and Tom Bertram being in every way a gentleman to Georgiana, Darcy had been inclined to tell the fellow that he was allowing Georgiana to decide for herself.

In privacy, he had been forced to admit to his wife that, perhaps, he had been mistaken about Mr. Bertram, for it was evident that the admiration between him and Georgiana had been building to a deep affection.

“He will be good for her after all,” Darcy had said.

It was now Twelfth Night, and the Darcys were preparing to attend the Prince Regent’s ball, where their cousin would receive his knighthood along with eleven other men. It would also be the event at which it was officially made known to society that Tom Bertram, heir to Sir Thomas Bertram of Mansfield Park, was courting Miss Georgiana Darcy.

“I wonder,” said Georgiana after Darcy had handed his sister into the carriage. “Who are the other men to be made knights this evening? Cousin Theo said he only knew two of them.”

Elizabeth released her husband’s hand as she sat beside the younger woman, then drew her legs in that Darcy could then climb into the carriage.

“We can only speculate, dearest,” Elizabeth replied.

Darcy settled into the rear-facing seat and the footman shut the door. A knock on the roof alerted the driver to start, and a moment later the vehicle was in motion.

“No doubt they are all of them young men who distinguished themselves in combat, as Theo did,” Darcy speculated.

“That sounds like what our cousin told us of the matter,” said Elizabeth. “The two men he knows are to receive honors this evening were under the Duke of Wellington’s command, as he was.”

She then grinned at her husband and added, “It is unfortunate, my love, that your own contributions to the war effort are unknown.”

“His contributions?” queried Georgiana, her gaze flickering between them. “What contributions to the war could William possibly make?”

“Financial ones,” Darcy replied. He cleared his throat, then said, “In honor of our cousin, I gave a substantial amount to the war effort to provide weapons for our soldiers and, more importantly, funds for their families to support themselves.”

“Oh, brother, that is so very kind of you,” Georgiana said. “Especially your support of the families. I recall a breakfast at Disley Court while I stayed with my aunt and uncle where His Lordship made mention of there being some sort of difficulty in the families receiving the pay of the soldiers. Some of them were in rather poor circumstances.”

Darcy nodded. “Indeed. Soldiers’ pay is insultingly low as it is—there are servants in our own house who earn more. When Theo shared that some of his compatriots’ families were suffering because their pay had not been distributed, I found I could not abide it.”

Elizabeth smiled. “That compassionate heart of yours is precisely what made me fall in love with you.”

Returning her smile, Darcy replied, “And I shall forever be grateful that you took notice of it, though it was some time before you did.”

“Well, it is not my fault that it took me so long to do so—it was very expertly hidden when first we met beneath a veneer of pride and arrogance.”

Georgiana gasped softly and Darcy arched an eyebrow, though a moment later his expression fell into one of chagrin. “Perhaps I was a bit too full of my own self-importance, my love, but you must admit that you were also rather too quick to judge and too full of prejudice.”

With a sigh, Elizabeth replied, “Indeed, I was. We were both of us fools, for a time, but thankfully we were each of us shown the error of our ways, and we understood each other at last.”

“And I am eternally grateful you did!” declared Georgiana as she reached over and gave Elizabeth’s hand a squeeze. “I have always wanted a sister, and you have brought so much happiness to our lives, dearest Lizzy. And though my Aunt Disley has been my sponsor in society, I do not know that I could have survived my two Seasons without you.”

Elizabeth squeezed her hand in return and smiled. “And I am pleased to have been of service to two such deserving people. Now, speaking of deserving people, let us not forget the purpose of this evening, which is to celebrate the achievements in service of King and country of twelve remarkable men.”

“But we won’t even know who they all are until after supper—that is what Cousin Theodore said,” Georgiana pointed out.

“No, Theo said that the knighting ceremony would take place after supper,” Darcy corrected her. “It is likely that the other eleven men to receive the honor were informed of it as our cousin was. More than one is likely to boast of it throughout the first half of the evening.”

“Quite so,” agreed Elizabeth. “You see, dearest, unlike your brother—who would have his kindness go unnoticed—there are some men who cannot help but crow their success for all the world to hear.”

“Tom is not like that—Mr. Bertram, I mean,” Georgiana said. “He has told me that the severity of his illness, which he was most fortunate to have overcome, shewed him a humility which he had previously lacked. Even when others praise him now, he behaves as though what he did was nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Which is as a gentleman should conduct himself,” said Darcy. “One who continuously boasts of his achievements is no gentleman at all.”

The conversation continued on various topics, including what engagements each had lined up for the next couple of weeks. There were dinner parties, luncheons, concerts, the theatre, and even another ball to be attended.

“We certainly shall be rather busy!” observed Georgiana with a laugh as the carriage was drawing up to their destination.

“Upon my word,” was the next phrase she uttered, the words spoken in a near whisper with a tone of awe. Her admiration of the royal residence of Buckingham House was understandable, for it had been opulently decorated. Countless lanterns had been lit to guide attendees into the building, and around them were wreaths of fragrant flowers.

A footman from the palace approached the carriage to open the door for them. Darcy offered him a nod of acknowledgement before turning to assist Elizabeth and then Georgiana. Elizabeth took her husband’s offered arm and Georgiana followed a few paces behind as they made their way inside.

After divesting themselves of their outerwear and changing into their dancing shoes, the party of three followed the throng before them toward the ballroom. When they reached it, they waited their turn to be announced.

The caller, when Darcy had given their names, took a step forward and called out in a booming voice, “Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Miss Darcy!”

“I shall never get used to that, I think,” Georgiana whispered as they moved further into the ballroom.

Elizabeth chuckled. “Just wait until you are Mrs. Bertram, and one day, Lady Bertram—then, all eyes will be upon you.”

“Oh, do not say such things! I dislike being the centre of attention,” said the younger woman.

“Something you and your brother have in common, my dear,” Elizabeth said with a smile up at her husband. Darcy merely harrumphed softly and shook his head.

In only a few moments, the three were approached by the Bertrams. Elizabeth noted that though her gown was clearly made of fine materials, Fanny Bertram had chosen a very simple design. It suited her, the former thought—Mrs. Bertram had always struck her as modest and demure, and as averse of being the subject of scrutiny as Darcy and Georgiana.

Once initial greetings had been exchanged, Tom Bertram stepped forward and bowed again before Georgiana. “Miss Darcy, I must tell you how incredibly enchanting you look this evening.”

Georgiana’s cheeks colored a shade of pink that nearly matched her gown, and she smiled as she replied, “You are too kind, Mr. Bertram. And might I say that you look especially dashing this evening?”

Mr. Bertram grinned and held out his hand. Georgiana placed hers in it, and as he guided her forward, the gentleman turned and slipped her hand into his elbow and then led her away from their party.

“They make a very handsome couple, if I may say so,” said Fanny Bertram.

“They do indeed, my dear,” agreed Sir Thomas. “What say you, Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth watched her husband forcibly swallow. “I regret that I must agree with you.”

Sir Thomas and his younger son laughed softly as Elizabeth said, “I am afraid my husband is still acclimating himself to the idea that Georgiana may soon leave his protection.”

“I am certain I will be as reluctant as he when our daughter comes of age to marry—is that not so, Fanny?” said Mr. Edmund Bertram.

“Quite so, my love,” said his wife. “Though as she is but a year old, you have many years before the time comes.”

The two couples and Sir Thomas then followed in the wake of the young lovers, catching them up in only a few minutes as they had stopped to converse with some acquaintances. Introductions were made and dances solicited, and the cycle was repeated as friends and other associates were encountered along their circuit of the ballroom. They had just returned to the entrance when the Disleys and Colonel Fitzwilliam were announced, and so the Darcys and Bertrams made their excuses to go and greet the new arrivals.

“Sir Thomas, it is a pleasure to see you again. How does your wife, Lady Bertram?” Lady Disley asked after greetings were exchanged. “I do hope her health has improved.”

“I am most pleased to say that it has,” Sir Thomas replied. “As it so happens, I received a letter from Fanny’s sister Susan—who is my lady’s companion, you may remember—just this morning. She related that her aunt’s condition has greatly improved.”

The countess smiled politely. “How wonderful; I am glad to hear it.”

“As were we,” Mrs. Bertram said then. “It has made us all feel a good deal less guilty about leaving her for so long.”

“I daresay your good aunt understands the reason for your leaving her when she has been ill,” offered Lord Disley with a glance at Tom Bertram, who stood next to his father with Georgiana still on his arm.

The earl glanced at his niece and added, “Though you are openly courting young Mr. Bertram, Georgiana, I do hope you are not denying a dance to other young gentlemen. It would not be civil of you to ignore them.”

Georgiana shook her head. “Of course not, Uncle. I am aware of my duty to our most gracious host and have my dance card already half full.”

“You have saved me a dance, I hope, dear cousin?” asked Fitzwilliam.

She smiled at him. “Of course, I have. You know I always save a dance for you.”

“If I may be so bold, Your Ladyship,” spoke up Mr. Bertram, “I would be delighted if you would grant me the honour of a dance this evening.”

Lady Disley’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered and exchanged the lifted eyebrows for a smile. “I should be delighted, Mr. Bertram.”

Tom Bertram returned her smile and bowed, and then the attention of all was drawn to the top of the room, where His Highness the Prince Regent was then entering with none other than his mother on his arm, with first his wife then two of his brothers and their wives and one of his sisters and her husband following behind. Prince George helped Her Majesty Queen Charlotte to sit in one of the two throne-like chairs on the dais that sat at that end of the room before he turned to the gathered throng.

“My lords, ladies, and gentlemen,” the Regent began. “Welcome one and all to this most glorious celebration of Twelfth Night, on which twelve knights will be created!”

Applause rang out across the room, and then the Prince Regent turned to the musicians on the balcony above and raised his hand. They bowed their heads and began to tune their instruments.

“All of you,” His Highness went on, “do enjoy the punch and the dancing. The knighthood ceremony will take place after supper.”

Again, the ball attendees applauded his words. The Princess of Wales, wife to the Prince Regent, then stepped forward and clapped her hands together twice. Those who intended to take part in the first dance made their way to the centre of the dance floor while the other attendees cleared it to gather around the perimeter.

The first strains of music soon were heard, and Elizabeth found herself for a moment swept up in the dance. After a few minutes’ passage, Darcy said,

“I believe we must have some conversation, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth grinned. “Is that so, Mr. Darcy? Then please tell me what subject most interests you, and I shall speak of it.”

Darcy mirrored her smile, then said, “That reply will do for present. Perhaps, by-and-by, I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but now we may be silent.”

A quiet laugh escaped Elizabeth as she recalled the first time they had had this very conversation—though during that first dance together, their positions had been reversed. “Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”

“Sometimes,” Darcy said. “One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet, for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”

The bemused expression he wore as he spoke led Elizabeth to laugh again. “Oh, my dear husband… While it has been delightful to share these words again in jest, I confess that I do not like to recall how very much I despised you when first we spoke them.”

“And I do not like to recall how highly you praised that lout Wickham,” Darcy said.

Elizabeth shuddered. “Nor do I,” said she. “How blinded I was by the prejudice you mentioned earlier.”

She then looked up at him, and seeing only the same adoration in his eyes that she noted every time he looked at her, she smiled. “How grateful I am that you forgave my foolishness, Mr. Darcy.”

Once again, he mirrored her expression. “And how grateful I am that you forgave mine.”