Wanting to feel superior to Sarah Lucas made attaching Jane to a peer of the realm all the more important. Once Jane was married to such a man, she—and of course, her mother by extension—would be far higher than a lowly knight or his wife.
While their mother made her way to speak to their aunt and some of the other matrons, Jane and Elizabeth sought out Charlotte Lucas.
Charlotte—a best friend to the two eldest Bennet sisters—was two and twenty, and as their mother loved to point out, was considered fast approaching being on the shelf. The Bennet girls would have awholeone thousand pounds each, and only when their mother passed away, but as far as was publicly known, Charlotte and Maria Lucas would have a mere six hundred pounds to share between them.
More than once when they discussed their relative economic fortunes Charlotte had opined her father had been precipitous in selling his business after his knighthood. In her opinion, had he kept it and employed a manager, they would have had an income which approached Longbourn’s rather than less than half.
Another thing the Bennet matron loved to point out was Charlotte’s lack of beauty. She was wont to say even Lizzy was prettier than the eldest Lucas, who she called plain.
After Charlotte, there came Franklin, who was home for the Easter term break from Oxford and aged twenty. There was Johnathan—called Johnny—who at sixteen was a few months older than Lizzy, and the youngest Lucas was Maria who was eleven.
“Jane and Eliza, how do you both do this evening?” Charlotte welcomed her friends.
She knew her friends did not agree with their mother’s cutting words regarding herself, not even in the smallest measure, something which warmed Charlotte’s heart.
“We are all aflutter to meet this mythical peer of the realm Mama has been atwitter about,” Elizabeth responded sarcastically.
“He is not a myth,” Charlotte informed her friends.
“How would you know that?” Jane enquired.
“You know my Papa,” Charlotte inclined her head to Sir William who was fulfilling the role of master of ceremonies, as he always did. “He took himself to the inn to welcome the visitor on behalf of the town.”
“And? What did he learn?” Elizabeth asked impatiently.
“For once the rumour mill has the right of it. He and his party have indeed taken every room at the Red Lion Inn. And he is no mere peer, he is the highest rank below royalty,” Charlotte revealed.
“A Duke!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Did he deign to meet Sir William?”
“Papa said he waited for the best part of an hour, but then he did in fact meet His Grace, the Duke of Hertfordshire, Marquess of Hertford Heights. His name is Lord Archibald Winston Chamberlain and…” Charlotte hesitated. “When he arrived home, Papa looked at his copy of Debrett’s Peerage. Based on the information of his birth, the Duke is almost seven and sixty years old and, on top of that, he is rather corpulent,” Charlotte reported.
“Much older than either of our fathers,” Jane stated.
“Surely then Mama’s saying he is looking for a wife is false,” Elizabeth hoped. “Why would he need to marry at that age?”
“The only thing we have discovered is the Duke’s heir passed away with no issue. It was about a year or so past,” Charlotte informed her friends.
“So he needs an heir,” Elizabeth realised. “I am sure he is too old to seriously consider anyone of our ages, so it is certain we are safe, if he is looking here and not in London for his next duchess that is.”
“I am sure you have the right of it, Lizzy” Jane assured herself and her sister both.
The whole room went quiet and all eyes swung to the doors, where an old man, very corpulent, not tall, and with no hair on the top of his head, stood there surveying the crowd with a critical eye.
Next to him stood two men, one younger and rather handsome and the other older than the younger one, but obviously much younger than the Duke.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
For not the first time that hour, Archibald Chamberlain cursed those who had turned all of theTonagainst him making it impossible for him to find a wife from the upper reaches of England’s societal structure.
At least his man had identified one who may meet all of the attributes he was looking for in his next duchess. It was something. Hertfordshire hoped his man’s information was in fact true as he would hate to have to search in too many more of these little backwaters. Up to now, the man was usually accurate in his reports.
How fortuitous had it been just over two years ago to find his current man who was only nineteen at the time. The man he replaced, who like the new man, had been willing to do whatever was required of him—including procuring unwilling married or unmarried women for Hertfordshire to bed—had been disposed of when he had failed to procure him the wife of a man who had slighted him.
At first, he had thought his new man was too young, but when he saw how the man was willing to use his good looks and charms to convince others to do what he wanted, the Duke had known he had found the ideal man for the job.
His man took pleasure in causing pain to members of polite society all because—as he had told it—he had been ill used by some member of theTonwho had convinced his own father to banish him from Derbyshire to Devonshire.
George Wickham had no qualms as long as he was well paid, there was no task he would not perform for his master. At least he could use his own name thanks to his father’s master repaying what he hadborrowedfrom his former employer.
