“Oh! It is from the Countess of Matlock,” she informed her husband. Darcy’s wide eyes bespoke that the news had startled him. Was he as opposed as she to the notion of everyday life intruding upon their happiness? “She has invited me to join her at an appointment with a fashionable seamstress on the morrow. May I accept?”
Darcy raised his brows and smiled. “Certainly, youmustaccept. I am surprised yet pleased that Lady Matlock is paying you such a great compliment as to offer you assistance. Not to mention access to her sought-after dressmaker. To decline would be most uncivil.”
“Thank you!” Elizabeth rose and rounded the table to kiss her husband’s cheek. She wound her arms about his neck and could not help but allow her hands to slide down his chest only to discover that his heart was racing. “Whilst I am not relishing the thought of spending an entire day without your delectable company, I am relieved to have garnered support from the countess. With such an illustrious voucher, the seamstress will not dare to cheat me.”
“Of course not!” Darcy cried aghast.
#
The next day, the countess was announced at the appointed hour.
“Her ladyship’s carriage is here,” the housekeeper announced as the clock struck ten chimes.
“Thank you.”
Lady Matlock was punctual. Elizabeth was ready and waiting to greet Darcy’s illustrious aunt in the entrance hall with her husband. The door opened to a mature woman who must have been a great beauty in her youth. She was accompanied by a young woman, who hid behind the formidable lady.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy! Can you explain why I had to read about your marriage in the ghastly newspapers?”
What could her ladyship mean by that? Elizabeth turned to study her husband and his increasingly crimson ears.
“I am seriously displeased, and your sister is quite distraught, but it is nothing to Lord Matlock’s wrath.”
It was difficult to believe with Darcy’s many journeys to London and Matlock during their courtship that he had not had the opportunity to inform his family about their impending nuptials, though his replies to her queries had been vague. Darcy shifted his stance as if his coat were made of burrs. She would address the problem at the first opportunity for a private conversation.
“It was a simple oversight.”
Lady Matlock knitted her brows and stepped closer to Darcy. Then she changed her mind and turned to Elizabeth.
“Introduce your wife.”
Darcy complied, and she was scrutinised by the countess.
“She is a pretty little thing, but in dire need of raiment befitting her new station. It is fortuitous that I was able to secure an appointment with Mrs Bean. Who is her father?”
“I am the daughter of Mr Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire,” Elizabeth replied, keeping the trembling out of her voice.
“That much I deduced from the notice in the paper. Is Longbourn a prosperous property?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied as Darcy simultaneously contradicted her with a measured, “No.”
“The estate provides amply for my family,” Elizabeth defended her childhood home.
“Longbourn village is of a decent size and would have greater fiscal potential if it were better managed,” Darcy informed his aunt without feeling.
Elizabeth was about to defend her father and his steward but managed not to draw the necessary breath before Lady Matlock spoke.
“Good, so not entirely destitute, then. Very well, I shall aid Mrs Darcy for the sake of Georgiana. She deserves every opportunity to make a good match, and that depends entirely upon Mrs Darcy’s acceptance in society. Whether I succeed in persuading the earl that such endeavours are worth the effort remains to be seen.”
Elizabeth then understood that Lady Matlock was not offering her services for her sake but in an effort to preserve their reputation.
“Certainly, and my vivacious wife will add much-needed liveliness to Georgiana’s life.”
Lady Matlock crinkled her nose as though liveliness was a particularly distasteful trait before introducing Miss Georgiana Darcy.
Miss Bingley had often lauded the young lady, which in turn had made Elizabeth apprehensive about being introduced to this paragon of virtue.
“Georgiana!” Darcy exclaimed with a merry cadence in his voice. “How good of you to come. Do you intend to stay or are you accompanying the ladies to the dressmaker?”
