Since Georgiana’s arrival, she had spent every day at the town house of either Lady Catherine or Lady Eleanor in preparation for her presentation.
The first concern was the dress.
Although current fashion favoured lightweight gowns—reminiscent of classical Greece and Rome—Queen Charlotte adhered to elaborate confections of richly trimmed silks and satins supported by the now obsolete hoop. It was required on such an occasion, and most families had to pay considerable sums for a gown their daughter would never wear again.
Georgiana wished to wear her mother’s gown from Lady Anne’s presentation at court. Lady Anne’s dress had a small hoop, more like a bell than the elaborate fashion inspired by the French court. It was rather difficult to make a perfect curtsey, and the young ladies had to practise many times to achieve the deep movement required in the presence of Queen Charlotte.
The two weeks before the event were spent almost entirely with her relatives. Lord Matlock said that he could not remember a time when the family had been closer. He was proud of his two nieces and attended the final rehearsal with the whole family. They were seated in Lady Catherine’s ballroom, as they would have been at a private performance. Near him, his son, Viscount Wharton, stood rather stiffly; it was not an occasion he enjoyed. He believed that the ladies might have resolved their difficulties without involving all the men from Matlock House. Still, in the end, it had been his father’s decision.
Darcy and the colonel, at the back of the room, sipped glasses of brandy, appearing relaxed, though in truth they felt strong emotion.
Georgiana came first, wearing Lady Anne’s dress of richly embroidered silk. The only addition was the delicate Venetian lace that covered her shoulders. She wore her mother’s jewellery: a necklace and tiara of sapphires and pearls. Upon a pedestal sat the Viscountess of Wharton, who played the part of the Queen.
“Your sister-in-law looks majestic—like a true queen,” Darcy said, with quiet admiration.
“She is a fine lady—too fine for my philandering brother,” the colonel whispered, and both smiled.
Lady Eleanor observed their identical smiles from a distance, regarding them with benevolent eyes.
“Fortunately, Lady Wharton is not the Queen. Otherwise, poor Anne would have stumbled and—” Darcy stopped as Anne de Bourgh entered the room. Dressed in an elegant white gown, she appeared timid, yet so lovely that both cousins bowed deeply towards Lady Eleanor and applauded her success.
“Mama is a sorceress. She has taken a little elf and transformed her into a presentable young lady,” the colonel whispered.
His mother hid her smile behind a fan, but her satisfaction was evident. Only Lady Catherine had any criticism, but nobody listened. Both cousins were elegant and delicate ladies, and the family could present them at court with pride.
They had to repeat the curtsey many times until Lady Wharton decided it was as perfect as the one she had performed three years earlier. In the end, Lady Wharton and the two debutantes withdrew together, as she had some advice for them.
On the day of the Drawing-Room, the names called out needed to correspond to the debutantes before them as they stepped forward to curtsey.
“You should remain calm and follow Her Majesty’s attendant, as the ladies are not always in the correct order in the row waiting to enter the Drawing-Room.
“Each lady has a presentation card on which her name is written. She must leave the line of the debutantes when she hears her name called. Then she enters the Drawing-Room and curtseys before the Queen. But, ladies…once you have curtseyed, do not remain before the throne. You must leave the room while still facing Her Majesty. Never…and I mean never…turn your back upon the Queen.”
Lady Wharton was confident that her two pupils would make a splendid appearance and that the presentation would be a success.
∞∞∞
Indeed, Anne and Georgiana completed their important endeavour before the Queen triumphantly. They were celebrated and congratulated that evening at an elegant supper given by Darcy in their honour. Less than a month later, the Earl of Matlock presented his nieces to all of London. The coming-out ball took place at Matlock House. Tradition required that each debutante arrive on her father’s arm, but as both fathers had passed away, Georgiana entered on Darcy’s arm while the colonel led Anne.
The attendees applauded as the two pairs entered the lavish ballroom, illuminated by hundreds of candles.
With great entreaty, Darcy persuaded Bingley to attend the occasion. Many debutantes attended the ball in search of a husband.
“I am not seeking a wife!” Bingley said, trying to resist.
“Of course not—just come and have a good time with the colonel and me.”
“I shall not dance,” he replied like a petulant child, though he enjoyed it.
“You may do whatever you wish.”
Once in the elegant, spacious room, in the presence of so many young ladies, Bingley forgot his resolve. For the first time since his departure from Netherfield, he enjoyed the evening…and the dancing.
As hosts, Darcy and the colonel had to dance with those young ladies who did not have partners. Still, it was not long before all the cards were filled and they could retire to a corner opposite the orchestra and observe the dancers. It had been one of their habits since they were younger. Without being mischievous or irreverent, they were somewhat bold, but that remained their own secret. It allowed them to know the young ladies of London, helping one another to discern their character. It was that constant habit of judgement that led Darcy to intervene in Bingley’s love life. He frequently had interesting information about the ladies in the ballroom, and talking with his cousin allowed them to judge their character and expose those attitudes that were cynical or betrayed cupidity.
“How many Seasons have we seen?” the colonel asked.
“I do not know—ten perhaps—enough to weary one.”
