Matlock House was a rather imposing edifice on the western side of Grosvenor Square in London. It was diagonally across the square from Darcy House which was on the eastern side of the square.
Lord and Lady Matlock had three children, Andrew—Lord Hilldale, Richard—a Colonel in the Royal Dragoons, and Lady Tiffany—who was seventeen. Like her friend and younger cousin Giana Darcy, she was born twelve years after the next older Fitzwilliam sibling—Richard.
Since a little before her brother had decamped for Hertfordshire, Georgiana Darcy, and her companion, Mrs. Annesley, had been guests at Matlock House. Giana was happy—as happy as she could be after her near ruination this summer past—to be with her aunt, uncle, and Tiffany.
She saw Richard occasionally when he was given time away from his regiment. The two cousins spent time with Andrew and Priscilla, Lady Priscilla Carrington as she had been, who lived at Hilldale House on Portman Square, a few times a week.
Lady Priscilla Fitzwilliam was in her fifth month of carrying their second child, which meant the Hilldales planned to retreat to their estate in Staffordshire early in December. Their plans were to remain there until after the newest Fitzwilliam arrived, just as they had after their daughter was born almost three years ago.
The girls were in the music room under the watchful eyes of their companions working on a duet for the pianoforte when the ageing butler proffered the silver salver to Miss Darcy.
It contained a letter from William which Giana snatched up gleefully forgetting the melancholy which still gripped her from time to time.
“Tiff, you do not object if I read William’s letter right away, do you?” Georgiana enthused.
“Go ahead, Giana. I know how much you enjoy reading Wills’s news,” Tiffany allowed.
“He mentions Miss Elizabeth Bennet again,” Georgiana remarked after she completed her brother’s letter.
“Who?” came from the door. Both girls turned and found the Countess standing and watching them. “Who is the young lady William mentions?”
“A young lady by the name of Elizabeth Bennet,” Georgiana repeated shyly.
“And you say he has mentioned her more than once?” Lady Matlock verified.
“In every letter except his very first from Hertfordshire,” Georgiana confirmed.
“Do you think Wills loves this young lady?” Tiffany asked her mother.
“Only William will be able to answer that,” Lady Matlock stated stoically. “Until he tells us otherwise, it does us no good to speculate.”
Not long after, the cousins sat down at the instrument once again and continued working through the piece of music.
Chapter 7
With Jane feeling much better and her fever being nominal, Elizabeth joined the family for dinner on her second full day in residence at Netherfield Park. It amused Elizabeth how Miss Bingley placed her as far from Mr. Darcy as was possible at the table.
She knew not if Mr. Darcy would have preferred her company during the meal, but one thing was certain, he found no pleasure in Miss Bingley’s overdressed companionship. Elizabeth could not but smile as every attempt to engage Mr. Darcy’s interest was rebuffed, albeit politely, by that man.
Her interest was diverted when she heard Mr. Bingley address her. “Is your sister much improved today, Miss Elizabeth?” Bingley enquired solicitously.
“She is thank you, Sir,” Elizabeth replied gratefully. Janey had the right of it, he was everything a young man should be.
“It is such a burden when one is sick,” Miss Bingley pronounced. “It is why I make a point of never being sick.”
At this ridiculous statement, Elizabeth coughed into her serviette to stop herself from laughing aloud. No matter how diverting the woman in orange was, it was not good manners to openly laugh at one’s hostess.
To Miss Bingley’s right, Darcy was fighting to keep his face schooled. No matter how he tried, the corners of his mouth turned up. ‘It seems she says the first thing which pops into her head with no thought whether it makes sense or not,’ Darcy told himself silently as he fought to keep his composure.
“But Caroline you have been sick many times,” a confused Bingley stated.
Being caught out havingexaggeratedMiss Bingley’s pallor turned a shade of puce. “I meant of late,” Miss Bingley hissed through gritted teeth. At that moment, she realised Mr. Darcy was watching her so she plastered a fake smile on her face. “It was nothing but a jest.”
“I do so love to laugh,” Elizabeth contributed as she forced a neutral look back onto her face.
Miss Elizabeth’s reaction was almost Darcy’s undoing, thankfully at that moment, Hurst decided to speak.
“You do not have any ragout,” he observed with distaste as he looked at the food Miss Bennet had served herself.
