The royal party met Mr. Darcy and Lizzy, then began circuiting the arrayed guests, occasionally exchanging a few words.
“Will he speak to us?” I asked.
Georgianahmmeda knowing smile. Mary, evidently alarmed, began shuffling backward again. Georgiana hauled her forward and whispered, “He is quite harmless. That is Lady Hertford beside him. She keeps him in check.”
“Have you met him?” I asked.
“I have played for him. He is a patron of many arts.”
The royal party neared us. They seemed to be greeting the titled aristocrats, so I relaxed. Then the prince’s gaze found Georgiana, and he stepped to us with a pleased smile.
An attendant rattled off our names. “Mrs. Bennet of Hertfordshire. Miss Darcy. Miss Bennet.” A man behind him whispered, and he finished, “Miss Woodhouse of Surrey.” I had no idea how they knew.
We dropped in deep curtsies saying, “Your Royal Highness.”
“Miss Darcy,” the prince said as we rose. “Beautiful as ever. The last pianoforte I heard was played by a boor of a man. You must give us a proper recital.”
“I would be honored, sir,” she said.
He looked us over, nodding politely to Mrs. Bennet who was audibly gulping, then settled his gaze on Mary. “Very striking. I think you have the gown of the evening.”
The crowdoohedand clapped admiringly. Mary stammered, “Thank you, sir,” then drew a breath and continued more firmly, “The crimson mourns the bloody death of our fellow sentient animals.”
The prince’s attendants thrust out their lips and sucked in dismayed air, but the prince chuckled. “You must be another performer.”
“Miss Bennet is a composer,” Georgiana answered for her.
“The Darcys always discover superior talent. We shall have to hear your work.” The crowd hummed.
The royal party moved on. Georgiana hugged Mary, who hissed, “I shall burn this dress!”
Across the room, Harriet, attended by her officer, caught my eye with a raised hand. Kitty was beside her, waving madly and mouthingMary!while clutching her laughing purser with her other arm.
I nudged Mary and inclined my head to the display. Mary closed her eyes in sisterly dismay, so I switched my attention to Georgiana, who was ecstatic, and said, “That was remarkable.”
“It is wonderful for Mary. He will stay for a dance, you know. It is a great privilege to dance in his presence.”
That gave me a thought. The receiving oval was dissolving as people mingled. I excused myself and circled the narrowing space until I spotted Mr. Knightley.
My arrival was met with stiff silence.
“I am ashamed of my behavior,” I said. “I wish to apologize.” He did not answer, so I forged on. “I am embarrassed that I appeared to deny our… our friendship.”
“I am accustomed to being disowned,” he said. “It is a recurrent event.”
“I do not wish to disown you! It was terrible, desperate behavior that I deeply regret.”
“I meet many privileged gentlemen and ladies. They smile at me, then stare past me when society observes them. Actions speak truth, not words.”
“You cannot imagine how deeply I regret my actions. I would list my excuses, but none matter, except one: I desperately require Mr. Tinsdale’s help for Harriet.”
His lip twisted in revulsion. “Do you understand what that man is? You cannot seriously think he will assist Miss Smith.”
“I have something he wants.” When Mr. Knightley frowned, I added, “Do not worry. I will not give it to him.”
Emotions chased across Mr. Knightley’s stern demeanor. Finally, he softened. “You must not trust him. Tinsdale is evil. If you need proof that England is not the tolerant society it claims, watch the hypocrites in Parliament as they dance for him. The lords give grand speeches trumpeting English freedom, then they secretly beg for his favor. Tinsdale toys with them and betrays them, and then they start all over again.”
“I can use Mr. Tinsdale,” I said stubbornly, and realized I had a plan to do just that. “It is only for a few days. Then Harriet’s future will be secure.”
