“All the more reason to purposelynotattend.”
“I know, I know. I despise all the watching and wondering and worry. Announcing the fact of our marriage openly this evening is, in my mind, throwing down a gauntlet. Iwantto throw it. The earl and his people, your cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and his men, are all watching throughoutNetherfield Park. And if she is not here, I want her to read the announcement in all the papers. I want her to give up any foolish, dramatic ideas of confrontation. I want her to go home to her mother. You want that too.”
Darcy traced one gloved finger across her collarbone. “I do, more than I can say. But I cannot countenance any danger to you. I want to shelter you, hold you in my arms, wrap you in my body, never let you go. I know it is not possible, but I struggle against these wants, always.”
“I am so glad you are my husband,” she said, with all the yearning in her heart. “After this night, we will go to your home in town, or Pemberley, and be surrounded by your trusted people.”
“After this night, we will begin making our plans for Venice, for as soon as the weather is favourable. I have not forgotten, you see.”
Her heart lifted at this further evidence of his love. “I will go anywhere, and be happy anywhere, as long as I am with you. We need not hurry. Your aunt may need you.”
Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who had arrived only that morning, was nothing like Elizabeth had been led to expect—an imperious, domineering sort who was certain to be angry at her nephew’s marriage to a country nobody. Instead, she had wept in Darcy’s arms at the sight of him, begging him to please, please forgive her, and help find her daughter. While she had not precisely embraced Elizabeth, it was evident that she would do nothing which might in any way anger the earl or Darcy.
She was also palpably afraid. Her daughter’s disappearance had terrified her, but she also feared what that daughter might do, how ruinously she might act. To Elizabeth, she seemed, at heart, an uncomplicated woman who seldom lefther country estate, one who liked control and sameness; while her tastes and manner might be aristocratic, she was undeniably out of her depth now.
“My aunt made her choices,” said Darcy. “In avoiding her responsibility to prepare her daughter for my marriage, she helped create this situation. There are consequences. I set my own interests aside for years for her sake. I refuse to do it any longer.”
“I feel sorry for her.”
At this, he smiled. “That is because you have only seen her at her most helpless. Believe me, it is not a usual state for her, and doubtless she will recover quickly, and be twice as peevish in response. Now, on a happier note, I have something for you.”
“You have given me so much already,” she protested when he pulled a slim case from an inner coat pocket.
“I hope I never forget to shower you with gifts and show you, always, my adoration. Nevertheless, this is yours by right, from the Darcy family jewels. I had the earl bring it from town.”
Carefully she opened the box to see a large ruby brooch glistening from within the velvet. “Oh. Oh, my.” He helped her pin it to the low neckline of her gown, then stood back to judge the effect.
“Perhaps it is a bit too…hmm…old-fashioned,” he said, frowning at it suddenly.
Elizabeth looked in the mirror and saw what he saw—the jewel was set to match the style of a bygone era. However, it also complemented her ensemble flawlessly—her neckline was fashionably low, but not taken to the excesses of atoncrowd; the brooch emphasised her figure pleasingly, with a luxurious yet agreeable simplicity. “I love it,” she said. “Ishall feel beautiful wearing it. I am honoured.” She took a deep breath, gathering herself for the evening ahead, whatever it might bring, and met his gaze. “Tell me truly, though. How do I look? It is the first time I shall appear publicly as your wife, and I wish to be… presentable.”
He stepped closer, sealing his mouth to hers, a kiss that quickly became something deeper. By the time they broke apart, she was breathless; a glance in the mirror showed her lips bee-stung, her complexion pink with passion and excitement, her eyes wide—a look entirely unlike the Elizabeth she usually expected to see. He smiled. “Now you are simply perfect,” he said. “Shall we go down, Mrs Darcy?”
The evening began with a formal dinner hosting Netherfield’s distinguished occupants, to which the Collinses had also been invited. The rest of the Bennets would be along later; Mrs Bennet had no desire to dine with earls, and it had been agreed that she, Lydia, and Mary would arrive at the start of the ball. Miss Darcy, not yet out, had opted to quietly dine in her rooms with her companion, a Mrs Annesley. Along with the earl and countess, Elizabeth had been introduced to a dizzying number of people, many of whom possessed titles, all of whom were affluent, influential, or both. They were her husband’s peers, and knowing the importance of making an excellent first impression, she was having some difficulty calling upon her usual insouciance.
“Zounds, but that is an enormous ruby,” said a young lady suddenly at her elbow to whom Elizabeth recalled having recently been introduced. “I wonder where, geologically speaking, it might have been mined?”
Elizabeth found her smile easily at this remark; it was not at all fashionable to be ‘bookish’ or express curiosity about bookish subjects. She liked her immediately. “I am unsure of its origins, except that it has been in my husband’s family for generations…Miss Bentley, I think? You must excuse me if I am wrong, as the sheer number of names swirling about my brain is quite terrifying.”
Her smile was returned. “Yes, Bentley—but please, call me Sarah. I probably should not have asked. Mrs Figg—our…housekeeper, I suppose you might call her, althoughIsay she could, if allowed, singlehandedly defeat Napoleon—is forever chiding me for my choice of conversational topics. Still, I do not suppose I could be blamed—your jewel is as big as aMus musculus.”
“Whatever is aMus musculus?” Elizabeth asked, curiously entertained.
“Oh…well, it is a common mouse. Mrs Figg also despises the use of Latin in polite discussion, probably because my father speaks it so often, he is frequently incomprehensible. But comparing your heirloom ruby to a rodent seemed more discourteous, somehow.”
Elizabeth burst out laughing, just as Darcy approached with a recent arrival, introducing her to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam—an impressive sight, what with his formal regimentals and military bearing. Miss Bentley—Sarah—who was included in the introduction, blushed, she noticed.Interesting.
But there was little time to contemplate peripheral, potential romances in the whirl of new faces and additional presentations. Even Mrs Hurst appeared as though she wished for nothing more than to retreat to her rooms—exhibiting the expression she had worn what seemed likeyears ago, at that assembly where Elizabeth had first seen her. Mrs Hurst plainly despised crowds.
Miss Bingley was in her element, serving an opulent meal of several courses in a large dining parlour, and then accompanying them all to a vast ballroom handsomely decorated with enormous quantities of flowers—she must have purchased every blossom in London and the surrounding countryside. It was clear that she hoped to launch Mr and Mrs Darcy in style, and forever be known as an intimate family friend—a conclusion Elizabeth was happy to accommodate. After all, the woman had never been in love with Darcy, only with the idea of him, of his influence, his family, his wealth and estate. She possessed money enough, and the rest could be accomplished with a friendship, as long as she did not give way to jealousy and pettiness. Elizabeth would have no difficulty in reminding her, if she did.
The Darcys’ only real plan for the evening was to remain watchful and alert. Frequently, they scanned the crowd for someone of his cousin’s height and figure, but it was difficult. Darcy did not know well the area’s leading families, just as Elizabeth did not know all of his acquaintance—although she certainly had now met many of them. A formal receiving line with even more introductions might have helped, but they had agreed it would be best to forego it—the better to be able to move about and not remain in a solitary, expected location for any length of time.
No one observed the arrival of an additional maid, dressed similarly to those hired for the evening, especially amongst so many others Netherfield’s housekeeper had employed as temporary help for the night.
Nobody noticed this servant, no one at all.
41
