Granville had known Andrew Fitzwilliam almost from birth as his estate Granville Park in Staffordshire was close to the western border of Snowhaven and just south of Hilldale, the home of the heirs to the earldom of Matlock. As the three men were welcomed, Lord Granville looked at the three clearly besotted men and could not help but chuckle.
“Andrew tells me that you two,” he indicated Darcy and Birchington, “are courting the sisters of the beauty to whom Richard is betrothed. Are there any more like them at home? They must be some family to attract you three. Not bad, daughters of an Earl, who I hear are rich beyond imagination.”
“Their wealth is the least attractive characteristic of the lady I love; of any of them, actually. There are two more sisters; one is seventeen and the other fifteen and neither one is out yet. Let me tell you about them, and my folly that almost lost me a chance with Lady Elizabeth…” In a quiet voice so no one else would overhear, Darcy shared a shortened version of his history with the Bennets and about their elevation to the peerage. As he spoke, Granville’s mouth hung open as if he was attempting to give all the flies of London a new home within.
“Good Lord above, Darcy, it is miraculous that she granted you a courtship! What a family! Pity that the two remaining at home are so young. I am not one that ascribes to the mores of society that a man can marry a girl no matter how young she is. That is not for me!” Lord Granville frowned.
“I thank God every day that she was willing to allow us to start again, Granville. I was such a fool and deserved every derogatory thing she and my family said about my abhorrent behaviour. I bristled when she called me a hypocrite, but it was not ere long before the truth of her words hit me and I started to learn from my mistakes; to make major amendments to myself,” Darcy admitted with complete candidness.
“If only I had met any of these paragons before you. My loss was your gain. I wish you all joy gentlemen and will just have to keep searching for a good candidate to be Lady Granville,” the Earl sighed in resignation.
“Harry, you met my friend Ashby when we were at Cambridge, correct?” Andrew asked, an idea forming in his head. “He is the second son of the Earl of Ashbury. I am sure that you know the father from the Lords,” Hilldale stated.
Granville nodded his agreement with the statement.
“He has a sister, Lady Sarah Ashby, who will be one and twenty this year. She, like you, will not accept just anyone, and is very intelligent and as well read as the Bennet ladies being discussed. She is not one of the empty vessels that we all despise in theTon. You have received your invitation to Richard’s wedding have you not?”
“I have, Hilldale,” his friend answered with no small amount of suspicion. “To what does your question portend? You know how much I hate matchmaking. Any attempt usually pushes me the opposite way!”
“Granville, that is not my intent. All I want is to affect an introduction. If there is to be anything beyond that, I do not care a jot. That will be up to the two of you,” Hilldale apprised his friend. “I have heard tell that you are handsome, but I have never seen that in you.” The last caused the other four men to guffaw while Granville glared at them with mock effrontery.
“If that be the case, then I will be happy to meet Lady Sarah. If she is as you describe, she may be someone that could interest me. Will her family also be at the wedding?”
“Yes,” Richard interjected, “as Ashby is now my Cousin Anne’s…” seeing Granville give him a quizzical look he paused to clarify. “Anne de Bourgh, the rightful owner of Rosings Park in Kent.” He nodded when he saw a look of recognition cross the Earl’s face. “Ashby is her betrothed and they will marry in August, so as we are soon to be related to them, all of the Ashbys are invited.”
“Good to hear. That means that there will be a good number of people I know at the wedding,” the Earl said with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Have you two eaten yet?” asked Birchington. “If not join us for a meal as we intended to order dinner.” The two slightly older men stated that they had yet to eat so it was five who partook in a meal at White’s that night.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Lady Sarah Lucas had never felt as apprehensive as she did as the Lucas carriage pulled up to the entrance of Bennet Park. She, her two daughters, and youngest son John were ensconced within while her husband and oldest son Franklin, called Frank by anyone that knew him, rode alongside the conveyance on their horses so they would not all have to cram into the small interior.
‘What a fool I have been,’ she thought with candour. ‘After everything I thought about how Fanny and her family would act, here she and her husband are waiting for us under the portico, not in a drawing room like most of the Ton would for someone so far beneath them. William was correct, I need to admit my transgressions against her and beg that she is munificent enough to forgive me, even if I may not warrant her forgiveness.’
After the Lucas men handed the reigns of their mounts to waiting grooms, Longbourn welcomed the friend that he had known since his childhood days. As he was shaking Sir William’s hand, the Phillips’ carriage came to a halt behind the Lucas’.
While the Phillips disembarked from their equipage, Lady Lucas, followed by her daughters and young son, approached Lady Longbourn with suppressed trepidation and made a deep curtsy. “Lady Longbourn, thank y…” She was interrupted by a gentle touch to her shoulder before she could complete her greeting.
“Sarah, I am still Fanny to my friends so none of this ‘Lady’ nonsense. Have we not been friends since we were little girls with our hair in ringlets all those many years ago making daisy chains together?”
“I am so very sorry Fanny…” Sarah Lucas said softly with tears of mortification in her eyes at being so completely and utterly wrong.
“This is neither the time nor the place, Sarah, but I promise we will talk later,” Fanny offered softly, then in a louder voice turned and welcomed all her guests. “Welcome all of you and thank you for coming despite the short notice. Let us retire to the drawing room where we can talk. Mr Hill and his footmen will take your outerwear at the door.”
As the new arrivals headed toward the house, Fanny hugged her sister whom she had not seen since the departure to London and kissed her brother on each cheek.
In the drawing room Jane, Lizzy, and Mary sat with Charlotte and Frank while an intimidated Maria and her younger brother joined the five girls. The three couples split into groups defined by their gender. Hattie Phillips sat to the left of her sister on a settee while Sarah Lucas sat to the right. It took a moment but Sarah summoned her courage.
“I owe you an apology, Fanny,” Sarah stated with all evidence of shame and embarrassment on her face.
“What do you need to apologise for Sarah? I cannot think of anything,” a confused Fanny replied. She had heard about the things that her friend had said, but had dismissed them as being induced by the shock of hearing of the Bennet’s wealth and elevation to the peerage.
“Oh, Fanny, I have always held myself as better than you. Your changes for the better since your wealth was revealed were so marked and then you were made a Countess. I was envious and I refused to allow myself to acknowledge how you had begun to improve yourself. You stopped boasting and gossiping even before you left for London; and had an air of contentment that I could not fathom. I suppose I felt that if I looked at how you had changed that I would have to look at myself. Not being ready to take that step, I was so jealous and petty...”
“Sarah enough, please. You have nothing to apologise for. You cannot be held accountable for your thoughts, and as far as I know you have never actually slighted me. The fact that you now recognise that you may need to make changes only points to your inherent goodness and value as a friend. You could have been another Miss Bingley, good Lord above forbid, and not seen your faults on your own, ignoring anyone who tried to point you in the right direction and then become bitter, or inhercase delusional to the point of insanity. Sarah, I have known you as far back as I can remember. Please know that if there is anything that I can ever do to help you as you take your own steps toward self-betterment, I am here for you. I may be a Countess, but at heart I am still the Fanny Gardiner that you knew, who has long loved you as a dearest friend and been loved as such by you.”
“I did not slight you, Fanny, but I did say some unkind things that were driven by envy. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your forbearance, but why would you need me when you and many of your friends are peers of the realm?”
