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The matriarch received Elizabeth in one of her smaller, more intimate parlours. The lady was alone and staring out of the window when she arrived. Elizabeth curtsied and was offered a seat.

“I suppose you have seen the newspapers of late?” Lady Matlock said, to which Elizabeth nodded.

“Something must be done as you are in danger of ruining all our names by association.”

Elizabeth’s hands became instantly clammy, and she folded them in her lap before realising that the gesture made them even more sweaty.

“I suggest you hold a ball. Nothing is more certain to appease society than an elaborate affair with delectable fare and plenty of drink. Besides, it will give you an opportunity to prove that you are not the simpleton you have been portrayed to be. A ball takes time to organise. The thirty-first is a good date, with time to spare.”

Elizabeth determined the date in her head. “That is a Sunday,” she protested meekly.

“Oh dear, that will not do. What about the first of June? I have not heard about anyone planning an event of significance on that particular date.”

Elizabeth quashed a sigh of relief. “I have no objections, your ladyship. I shall confer with Mr Darcy and send you his reply in a note.” She surmised that Darcy’s demands that she seek his approval would certainly apply for such a lavish expense as a ball.

Lady Matlock studied her with twin creases above her nose. Elizabeth fought hard not to fidget and met her ladyship’s steady gaze.

“Very well. The invitations should be out no later than the eleventh. Do remember to order pretty ones, preferably in accordance with the theme you choose. It is all in the details if one is to host a successful event.” She reached for a piece of paper on the table beside her and handed it to Elizabeth. “I do not know who your acquaintances in town are, but here is a list of the most prominent people that cannot be overlooked. Make sure to send each an invitation. I have taken the liberty of adding their addresses.”

Regarding the extensive list in her hands, all Elizabeth could do was to comply. Her limited acquaintances were not of a sphere to impress. “Certainly,” she agreed, before she rose to take her leave. She had much to do, and nothing could be accomplished without Darcy’s consent. She hastened home and found her husband in his study.

“I have come from Lady Matlock,” she notified him, kissed his cheek, and sat opposite him. “She advised me to hold a ball, to rectify the—” What should she call the travesty that had befallen them since they arrived in London? “—misapprehensions about me that have been circulating in the newspapers.” Her cheeks grew warm at the admission. “She suggested the first of June as a date and that the invitations, if you agree to the scheme, should be delivered no later than the eleventh.” Darcy’s brows rose when she mentioned needing his permission.

“Why would you need my permission? Our social calendar is your responsibility.”

Elizabeth seethed at the question and the patronising tone in Darcy’s voice. Had her husband already forgotten that he had forbidden her from making any decisions that required expense? A ball could easily cost upwards of five hundred pounds.

“I hope you did not imply to my aunt that I do not trust you?” Darcy grumbled.

“I mentioned nothing of the sort. I merely stated that I wished to confer with you before anything was irrevocably decided.”

“Good. I see the wisdom in Lady Matlock’s recommendation. We shall have a ball.”

“Splendid!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I need a list of the friends you want to include. Oh! What theme would you prefer?”

Darcy held up his hands. “Please, I have no idea. I leave that to you and our sisters.”

“Thank you so much—” Elizabeth was about to expound upon her gratitude with more than words and rose to round the desk when a commotion in the entrance hall halted her step. The screeching sounded familiar and was moving towards them.

“Please, allow me to see whether Mr Darcy is at home,” a frustrated Mr Gilbert begged.

“Balderdash. I am their mother. No formalities are necessary.”

Mrs Bennet! What had possessed her to come all the way to London, and at such an inopportune moment? Elizabeth bristled and straightened before her mother burst through the door.

“Lizzy! What is this nonsense I read about you in the paper? I have been sick with anxiety.”

Elizabeth was allowed no time to reply before her mother continued but muttered, “You do not look ill.” In fact, her mother seemed very well, bouncing and red cheeked with energy to spare.

“I have come to rectify the problem as no journalists will disparage any of my daughters or sons without heartily regretting it.”

Mrs Bennet stopped in the middle of the room and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at the couple she had vowed to protect.

“Mrs Bennet.” Darcy rose and bowed before his mother-in-law.

Only then did Elizabeth notice Kitty hunched on the threshold.

“I can assure you, there is no need to fret. We have the situation under control,” Darcy promised.