“How thoughtful,” Elizabeth replied neutrally, although her birthday was the following day. “Though I fear I must disappoint in matters of costume. My traveling wardrobe is limited to necessities.”
Caroline waved a dismissive hand. “Precisely why we must consult immediately. Georgiana has already offered to share her gowns, and we have brought several options that might be altered to suit you.”
“I appreciate your consideration, but I couldn’t possibly impose—” Elizabeth began.
“For the masquerade, naturally.” Mrs. Hurst supported her sister. “Surely you don’t intend to appear in a borrowed morning dress?”
The question, delivered with Louisa’s trademark blend of condescension, struck the nerve it was intended to hit.
“I confess the matter had not occupied much of my thoughts,” Elizabeth replied with deliberate lightness. “Country assemblies rarely require such elaborate preparation.”
“Ah, but this is hardly a country assembly!” Mrs. Amelia Bingley’s smile was sharp as an adder’s fangs. “This is your debut as a Darcy, my dear. The entire county will be watching to see how you comport yourself.”
As if adding to her woes, her mother’s voice echoed through the hall with all the subtlety of a hunting horn.
“Lizzy! Oh, Lizzy! There you are, my clever girl!” Mrs. Bennet hurried toward them, Lydia trailing behind with barely contained excitement. “We’ve been invited to join the ladies for tea and acostume discussion. Is that not the most elegant thing? Lady Lucas would be green with envy if she could see us now, taking tea with such distinguished company at Pemberley itself.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm. “Mama, please?—”
“And you shall have the finest costume, Lizzy. After all, you are a Darcy now—or will be once the lawyers finish their business.” Mrs. Bennet beamed at the assembled company. “Though I always said she had a natural elegance about her, did I not? So unlike my other girls, though Jane is quite pretty, too.”
“Mrs. Bennet,” Caroline interjected smoothly, “how fortunate you’ve joined us. We were telling your daughter that a proper presentation at tomorrow’s assembly is essential. The whole of Derbyshire society will attend.”
“Oh! Of course, of course!” Mrs. Bennet fluttered like a preening hen. “My Lizzy must look the part of a great heiress. Perhaps something with feathers? Lady Metcalf wore the most extraordinary plumage at Sir William’s last ball, and she is merely a knight’s wife, not the mistress of Pemberley, as my Lizzy.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly, summoning patience from reserves she had not known she possessed. “Mother, nothing has been definitively established regarding my?—”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Bennet waved a dismissive hand. “Anyone with eyes can see the truth. My Lizzy has always had the bearing of nobility. I often remarked to Mr. Bennet that she seemed too refined for our humble circumstances. Darcy blood will tell!”
The pronouncement rang through the corridors with mortifying clarity. Elizabeth caught sight of a footman attempting to suppress what might have been either a cough or a laugh, and she felt heat rise in her cheeks.
“Perhaps,” Caroline interjected, “we should continue this discussion somewhere more private? We shall adjourn to my chamber to examine the possibilities. The occasion demands something particularly appropriate for a young lady of… ambiguous origins, making her first appearance insociety.”
Elizabeth did not miss the slight emphasis nor the barely veiled insult, but allowed herself to be swept along. The corridor leading to the guest wing seemed to stretch endlessly before her, offering no opportunity for escape.
Lydia skipped alongside her, full of breathless enthusiasm. “Lord, Lizzy, isn’t it grand? All these fine gowns and jewels. Will there be officers at the assembly? Wickham looked so handsome in his regimentals—though I suppose he’s in disgrace now, since Mr. Darcy glares daggers whenever his name is mentioned.”
“I expect many local gentlemen will attend,” Elizabeth replied noncommittally, her mind still troubled by the morning’s encounter with Wickham and the mysterious Rumsey.
Caroline’s chamber had been transformed into an impromptu modiste’s salon, with gowns arrayed across every surface. Ribbons, feathers, and various ornaments covered the dressing table, while a lady’s maid stood ready with pins and measuring tape.
“Now then,” Caroline said, assuming command, “I believe we must consider what theme best suits Miss Eliza’s… unique position.”
“Theme?” Elizabeth echoed.
“All Hallows’ Eve is traditionally a masquerade,” Mrs. Hurst explained with exaggerated patience. “One chooses a historical or mythological character to portray.”
“Perhaps a queen?” Mrs. Bennet suggested eagerly. “Mary Queen of Scots? Though she lost her head in the end, which seems a poor omen.”
“I was thinking rather of Diana,” Caroline said, her smile sharp-edged. “The goddess of the hunt—how very fitting for one who pursues her rightful place with such… determination.”
The implication was not lost on Elizabeth. Caroline was casting her as a predator, a fortune hunter.
“I hardly think I qualify as a huntress,” Elizabeth said carefully. “I merely seek answers about my parentage, not conquest.”
“Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Bingley replied. “Though the distinction may appear academic to some observers. Every detail of yourappearance will be scrutinized tomorrow evening. You must make precisely the right impression.”
“And what impression would that be?” Elizabeth asked, though she suspected the answer would prove illuminating regarding the Bingleys’ true agenda.
