“That it was,” Tiffany agreed. “He deserved that and so much more!”
“I will have to tell my brother, will I not?” she checked with her companion.
“Yes, you will,” Mrs. Annesley agreed. “It is my belief rather than censure you; Mr. Darcy will be proud of the way you stood up for yourself.”
“Mrs. Annesley has the right of it,” Tiffany stated. Her own companion nodded her agreement. “Come we should return to Matlock House so we may inform Mother and Father, who I am sure will acquaint Richard with the happening.”
The group of walkers reversed their direction and headed back towards Matlock House.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Caroline Bingley stood admiring her form in the mirror after her maid had completed her task of preparing her mistress for the ball. To her eye, in her burnt orange ensemble with the matching dyed turban and ostrich feathers—also coloured to match—she was the epitome of fashion and class which would be required of her when she became a leader of theTononce she was Mrs. Darcy.
She would ensure she and her husband would not spend much time in the country at all. Yes, she always boasted about Pemberley, not because she enjoyed being there and so far from London society, but because of the wealth the estate and its huge mansion represented.
A few months at the estate in the summer issuing the most sought after invitations to the balls and house parties she would host was more than enough. That is after all why Mr. Darcy had a steward. She would make sure he did not sully his hands with the day-to-day operation of the estate and just sit back and rake in the enormous income.
Of course, she would convince him to raise the rent on the peasants who were his tenants so she would have that much more available to her to redecorate at least once a year and purchase a new wardrobe every few months. She would expect to be covered from head to toe in jewels, as her right, and not just the old pieces that made up the Darcy jewels, but many new items her husband would purchase for her.
By then of course Charles would be married to Georgiana Darcy and her plan to raise herself to the heights of society would be complete. There was only one small problem with her plans for the night…Mr. Darcy had yet to request a single set from her, even though she was certain she would be opening the ball with him.
Miss Bingley was sure as soon as he saw her descend the stairs in her fashionable outfit, her hair done just so, and her copious jewels draped around her neck, he would not be able to resist her. She applied some more of her specially blended French scent, and then to make sure, she added even more.
Again, she admired herself in the mirror and what she saw assured her thatherMr. Darcy would be blinded to that hoyden Eliza Bennet and only have eyes for herself.
As much as she wanted to be fashionably late, this was one occasion she knew she needed to be on time. She was part of the group making up the receiving line. Even though she did not desire to give consequence to the yokels, she knew it was expected of her. Mr. Darcy would not be impressed if she was late or eschewed her duties as hostess.
She had her maid reposition one of the four long feathers held up by her turban and glided as graciously as she could out of the mistress’ suite. Caroline was hoping Mr. Darcy would be waiting for her in the hallway to escort her downstairs.
In the hallway, Miss Bingley stopped and looked around, but other than a footman on duty, there was nobody else. She huffed her annoyance but soothed herself with the knowledge Mr. Darcy would be waiting for her at the base of the grand staircase so he would be in the best position to admire her as she regally descended the stairs.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Jane,” Elizabeth tried to garner her sister’s attention. She approached Jane and her dreamy faraway look and shook her shoulder as gently as she could.
“Lizzy, I beg your pardon, I was thinking about the ball with a great amount of pleasure,” Jane stated as her cheeks pinked.
“Could it be you have been missing a certain gentleman from Scarborough who was unable to come calling during the days of rain,” Elizabeth teased. The dreamy look returned to Jane’s face as soon as Elizabeth alluded to Mr. Bingley. “Jane, are you in love with Mr. Bingley?”
“I am not sure…no that is not the truth. Yes, Lizzy. Yes, I am,” Jane admitted. “I once asked Aunt Maddy how I would know when I was truly in love.”
“And?” Elizabeth pressed impatiently.
“Our aunt told me when I am not in the man’s company, I would be missing him all of the time and wanting to be with him as if a piece of my heart would be absent without him near me,” Jane revealed. “Also, she said when I imagined my future if there was no version I envisioned without him in it, then I was in love.”
“Let us hope Mr. Bingley appreciates the gift beyond any value you have granted him,” Elizabeth stated happily. She cogitated for a second remembering an earlier conversation. “Janey, have you indicated your changed feelings to Mr. Bingley so he has no doubt of them? You remember our discussion.”
“Since we spoke on that subject, I have not seen him, however…” Jane blushed deeply before she was able to say the words.
“You intend to give him an indication this very evening, do you not?” Elizabeth surmised.
Not able to say the words, Jane simply nodded—vigorously. “Remember Lizzy, as much as I want to think he returns my regard, Mr. Bingley has not said anything to me on that subject as yet and, as far as I can see, his honour is not yet engaged.”
“Even a blind person would be able to see the feelings are mutual; regardless of how much his sisters, especially Miss Bingley, do not look upon your union with an approving eye,” Elizabeth opined.
“Do not worry about me being fooled by Miss Bingley’s false friendship. I am now well aware of her true feelings,” Jane assured her sister.
“It pleases me your eyes are open, and you are able to see things as they are,” Elizabeth responded. “On a different subject, how pleasant was preparing for the ball when Mama was not allowing her nerves to rule and not demanding lower necklines with much, much more lace?”
