“Nor would you,” agreed Elizabeth, her voice trembling with mirth. “My father is a country squire who does not at all like London.”
“The Bennets are my neighbors,” added Darcy, while the lady looked on Elizabeth as if unable to comprehend anyone who kept themselves separate from the wonders of society.
“Ah, then I must assume that is the reason for your recent marriage. Was yours a longstanding engagement?”
“It was,” replied Darcy, his patience, never that profound, almost exhausted by her insolent tone. “I knew when Elizabeth was seventeen that I wished to have her for a wife.”
Lady Marjorie offered a sage nod, though her comment was not at all welcome. “Then I suppose it must be, though I could have introduced you to several young ladies of standing who would have suited your excellent property. As you are already married, there is nothing to be done—Mrs. Darcy is amusing enough that I suspect she will do you credit in society.”
So insulting a speech was it that a reprimand hovered on the tip of Darcy’s tongue. Though he might have released it, Elizabeth prevented him from doing so.
“It is my firm intention to be a credit to my husband. I have always been accounted one who could move in society, and I do not suppose this society differs greatly from that of my home in essentials.”
The lady regarded her as if trying to comprehend whether Elizabeth was serious in her assertion. “It may be far more different than you might expect, Mrs. Darcy. London is not for the faint of heart.”
“Then it is well that my heart does not swoon at the thought.”
“Mrs. Darcy also has my mother and father’s support,” said Fitzwilliam, hilarity staining his voice. “If there is anything about which Mrs. Darcy lacks understanding—though the notion beggars belief—my mother will assist with pleasure.”
“Very well,” said the lady. “Perhaps we may continue this conversation another time.”
“Not if I have any say on the matter,” muttered Darcy to the lady’s back as she moved away.
“Do not worry, William,” said Elizabeth, her light tone improving his mood as it always did. “I suspect that Lady Marjorie will not push her acquaintance on me, now that she has satisfied herself of my ‘acceptability.’”
The bell sounded, a balm to Darcy’s feelings, and those in the theater made their way to the boxes for the opening act. As Elizabeth grasped his arm, he noted the scrutiny of the company, regretting the spectacle they were making by their very presence. It would be the same in the intermission, he knew, as he also suspected the eyes of many would stray to the Fitzwilliam box where they would sit within. With Elizabeth by his side, he could endure it. That did not mean Darcy would like it.
THOUGH DARCY HAD RISENin the world with his inheritance of Pemberley, he was not of a mind to allow his friendships at his former level of society to lapse. Of these, Bingley was not the only one, for he had several companions, men whose acquaintance he had made at Eton or university, men whose support and friendship he counted on. Not long beforeGeorgiana and Kitty were to take up residence at Darcy house again, Elizabeth and Darcy hosted his group of friends at Darcy house, a gesture that he would not forget them, little though it was required.
Darcy was not the first of his friends to marry, for Davidson and Graves had both preceded him by a year. Bingley was, of course, pursuing Miss Bennet, and while Drysdale was courting a young lady, Walters and Brooks were yet single, and seemed content to remain so. That Davidson and Graves were married was fortunate, for that evening Elizabeth had new friends with whom she could converse, for a gathering of only gentlemen devolved into raucous laughter and jesting not fit for a lady’s ears. When the ladies retired to the sitting-room after dinner, Darcy stayed with his friends in the dining-room with their port, the behavior not unlike what he might expect of an evening with his friends, indistinguishable from many other occasions he could recall.
“Well, Darcy,” said Walters, the usual ringleader of any baiting among the friends, “given your movement of late among the higher sets, I am surprised you have any interest in associating with us poor fellows.”
“Oh, aye,” added Davidson. “Why, my Cecily observed your wife shopping with a countess last week. If she has made such acquaintances, who would prefer our company?”
“I would, for one,” said Darcy, sipping on his port.
“That is not unexpected,” said Graves, among the quieter of the company in keeping with his name. “One rarely meets one more disinclined toward the higher sets than Darcy.”
“I have spent much time in Darcy’s company,” said Bingley, the good sort that he was. “Little has changed in his manners, though I suppose he must keep up appearances.”
“Given your recent visits to the earl’s house,” jibed Brooks, “more than Darcy is moving up in the world.”
“Perhaps,” was Bingley’s uncaring reply. “I will note, however, that my interest is only in Darcy’s new sister by marriage. That she lives in the earl’s house is ancillary.”
“Should we tell him?” asked Walters to Graves in a stage whisper. “Our excellent Bingley appears to have no concept of what this means for his status in society.”
“I understand well enough,” retorted Bingley. “Yet I count it secondary to earning Miss Bennet’s good opinion.”
“Another lost to the arms of a woman,” lamented Brooks. “It is just you and me, Walters, to carry on the standard of bachelorhood, for even Drysdale is doing his best to allow a woman to catch him.”
“You should try it, Brooks,” returned Drysdale. “You may even find it agrees with you.”
“Heresy!” exclaimed Brooks. “Why, I have never been more insulted in my life! I shall have you know that I mean to remain single forever—a wife would be no less than a bother, an unnecessary burden on my lifestyle.”
“If any of us feels that way,” observed Bingley, “it is Walters. I cannot believe it of you, Brooks, for I know you must provide an heir when you inherit your property.”
“Yes, I suppose you have the right of it, Bingley,” said Brooks. “Until my father passes on, however, I need not concern myself with such things. There will be more than enough time to consider such distasteful subjects as marriage and children.”
