Charlotte frowned slightly. “Mary and Mrs. Bennet must not have spoken of our scheme concerning Mr. Collins.”
“No,” Lady Lucas agreed, a little grimly. “I do not believe they would wish that known. Frances spoke of preserving appearances. All that happened is best kept between themselves.”
Charlotte folded the letter carefully. “I must speak with Father at once. If I am to go to Pemberley, I must have new gownsand perhaps a new pelisse. Mother, this may be my last chance before I grow too old to be thought of as a bride.”
Without another word, the two women abandoned the remains of breakfast and made their way through the house in search of Sir William Lucas, a sudden flurry of energy about them that had not been felt in years.
Charlotte wasted no time in replying to Elizabeth’s extraordinary invitation. That very afternoon, she composed a letter full of grateful astonishment, assuring her friend that she would be most pleased to accept the invitation and would be packed and ready to travel north on May seventh. She added, with characteristic modesty, that she would likely take the mail coach to Derbyshire when the time came, so as not to trouble the Darcys with any delay to their travels.
Elizabeth, upon receiving this reply, smiled to herself and sat down at once to pen her answer. In it, she wrote that Charlotte was not to concern herself with coaches or timetables, for they would be passing directly by Lucas Lodge on their return to Pemberley and would stop to collect her. All that remained for her to do, Elizabeth said, was to bring her wardrobe into order and ready herself to meet three eligible bachelors, each of whom, she emphasized playfully, was entirely unencumbered by wife, fiancée, or entanglement of any kind.
Chapter 68: Plans Set In Motion
Elizabeth and Georgiana paid a visit to Lady Helen the same day that Charlotte’s letter had been received at Darcy House. The three women sat in the drawing room of Matlock House, drinking tea and making plans.
“Lady Helen, it is settled. Fitzwilliam says we will travel to Pemberley on May 7th. My friend Charlotte has agreed to accompany us, and Jane has confirmed they will collect the Stanton sisters in mid-July. Unfortunately, the Bingleys will not be staying over, for they are to travel to Scarborough to visit Mr. Bingley’s extended family. Mr. Stanton has agreed that his sisters may remain with us through late September.”
A shadow fell across Lady Helen’s countenance. “My dear, if I find Abby Stanton suitable, I fear that Phillip will resist a visit to the country during the height of the season.”
Elizabeth was not concerned. “Fitzwilliam will contrive some reason to bring him to Pemberley. My greater fear is that you will not find either of my friends suitable, and then we must begin again. I shall start looking around me in Derbyshire. Perhaps there are eligible young women there I have not yet discovered.”
Lady Helen placed a hand on hers. “You need not trouble yourself. I believe Abby will be one of my daughters-in-law. You have been generous in your description of her, and I have already fallen in love with the young woman.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Very well, Aunt Helen. We shall see what you think of Abby.”
The Countess said, “I am packed and ready to depart on the seventh. My dear, I am panting for a breath of fresh air and the peace of the countryside. London has begun to close in upon me. I long for Matlock, for real trees, fresh air, good-natured people, and for both of my sons to be married.”
That night, as Elizabeth lay with her husband, she shared the latest developments with him. His arm was under her neck, and the other draped over her waist.
“So, the house party is taking shape?” he asked.
“It is,” she replied. “Charlotte has accepted, and the Stanton sisters will arrive in July with the Bingleys. I hope very much that one of my friends will suit your cousin.”
Darcy shifted slightly. “I do not even remember the Stantons. If they are as beautiful as you say, why do I not recall them?”
She laughed in the darkness. “One of two reasons, Mr. Darcy. Either none of the residents of my neighborhood were high enough for the great Fitzwilliam Darcy, or you were enchanted by a certain Bennet sister and had eyes for no other.”
His chuckle resonated deep in his chest. “Elizabeth, my cousin is a wealthy, titled man, and his standards are fearfully high. I hate to discourage you, darling, but he is even more particular than I when it comes to finding a suitable wife.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for your considered opinion, but my friend Abby is clever and beautiful. Her twin sister will likely not suit your cousin, for Anise is quiet, though perhaps she may do for one of the other eligible men in the neighborhood.”
“Elizabeth, how came you to be involved in match-making for Phillip? Surely it is none of our concern.”
Elizabeth kissed the hollow beneath his ear. “Your aunt dragged me into it, darling. Phillip declared to his mother that he would only marry a woman who resembled me in character. Your aunt asked whether I had any unmarried sisters, or, failing that, any friends who were raised with values similar to mine and who resembled my personality.”
Darcy gave a short, dissatisfied grunt. “I cannot say I find that very reassuring, Elizabeth. I had no notion my cousin was so taken with you. Ought I to be jealous?”
She trailed kisses along his jaw, then pulled his lower lip into her mouth. When she moved over him, he groaned. “Darling, there is no reason for jealous fits. Surely you know how much I love you?”
He looked at her as though spellbound. His voice was low, almost pleading. “Show me, Elizabeth… show me how dearly you love me.”
A shiver passed her lips in a soft sigh, and she bent to him with all the warmth of her heart. The hour that followed was spent in convincing him beyond doubt.
May seventh was clear and dry, and the Darcys departed London just after breakfast. Their main carriage, large and finely appointed, carried Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Lady Helen in comfort. Behind them followed a second carriage with the valet, Elizabeth’s maid, and the trunks. Mr. Darcy rode alongside on his grey hunter.
They made good time through Hertfordshire and, by midday, turned off the main road toward Lucas Lodge.
Charlotte had been ready since morning. She wore a new forest-green travel dress, while her matching bonnet and pelisse hungon a peg near the door. Lady Lucas had been sitting at the front window for two hours when she suddenly cried out, “They are here!”
