“Ma’am, surely you do not mean it!” Elizabeth protested. “I have no wish to practise any kind of deceit upon him.”
“There will be no deceit at all, my dear. You need only be yourself. He is a man of sense and education, and after his service behind French lines in Spain, I daresay he has no shortage of stories to share. Enjoy yourself, Elizabeth. I am persuaded that both you and the colonel will find the acquaintance agreeable. By the bye, I shall introduce you as Miss Bennet, for Lady Matlock is uncomfortable with women in business—so we will indulge her, to preserve her sensibility.”
* * *
At precisely four o’clock, Lady Jersey’s footman rapped the knocker on the Earl of Matlock’s residence in St. James’s Square. They were shown into yet another fine, well-proportioned apartment, and Elizabeth could not help but wonder at the accumulated wealth gathered in Mayfair drawing rooms. Lady Matlock rose to greet Lady Jersey, who introduced her to Elizabeth.
“My dear friend, Miss Bennet. She is of great use to me, both with the bank and assisting me in society.”
“A pleasure, Miss Bennet.” Lady Matlock turned to Lady Jersey. “Sarah, I believe you know my son, Colonel Fitzwilliam. But have you met my niece, Miss Georgiana Darcy?”
“Indeed not,” said Lady Jersey. “My dear Miss Darcy, it is very nice to make your acquaintance. And, Colonel, I heard from General Wellesley that you took a serious wound in the Peninsula. It’s so gratifying to see you recovered.”
“A mere scratch, my lady. But, having grown weary of fighting the Frenchies, I thought several weeks spent prone would be the very thing to invigorate myself. Alas, I believe the army has forgotten me, and I am forced to endure my mother’s company, though my cousin Georgiana is a delight.” The Colonel laughed. “Pardon me, I am unacquainted with Miss Bennet. Please, sit with Georgiana and myself, and let the countesses huddle together and speak of their secret business.”
“I do believe, Colonel,” replied Lady Jersey with a smile, “that you know my intent. I must, in future, use a more covert stratagem.”
“Well, Miss Bennet, I have not seen you before in Town. Are you long acquainted with Lady Jersey?” The Colonel chuckled. “Few have the fortitude to keep up with her—I have heard it remarked that her bearing is that of atheatrical tragedy queen.”
“No, sir. You do the countess no favour. While Mrs. Siddons and Lady Jersey share the same name, Sarah, there the similarity ends. For while Mrs. Siddons’s performances are confined to Drury Lane, Lady Jersey’s stage is the whole of London!”
“Oh, well said, Miss Bennet! I suspect I’ve met my match. Certainly, I am no Benedick to your Beatrice. What say you, Georgiana?”
Miss Darcy looked between the two in bewilderment. Never had she seen a lady and a gentleman, on such short acquaintance, seem so much at ease with their wit and banter.
“Dear me, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth, turning to the young woman. “I fear we have unsettled you. But Colonel Fitzwilliam rightly suspected that Lady Jersey had me accompany her in order to distract the Colonel from her conversation with Lady Matlock. Perhaps I have overplayed my role. Please, my dear, forgive my impertinence.”
Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. There was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle.
“Of course, Miss Bennet,” the young girl replied. “But I do not think you impertinent. It is as Richard says: Lady Jersey is a formidable woman. I do not have the temper to converse with her, let alone be her companion.”
“That is not my role,” said Elizabeth kindly. “I am not her companion, but rather, as she calls it, her private secretary. I must have astonished you—that a gentlewoman would be in a position—shall we be honest?—of employment.”
“But surely not! Your gown is of the finest silk—certainly no lady’s companion I know sports such quality.”
“Then I will astonish you again,” Elizabeth replied, her eyes sparkling. “For this is my aunt’s dress, sewn by my own hand, for it was very ill-fitting. And the silk… my uncle is a merchant who imports fine fabrics from India and the Orient. My family is lucky, for he withholds the very best pieces for our use. There, I have confessed all—I have relations in trade and spend much of my time engaged in commerce at Child & Co.”
“Then we are well-suited,” interposed the Colonel. “I am but a poor soldier, without any fortune, being a second son.Thus, I believe we are equal in consequence—though while I am merely a countess’s son, you, Miss Bennet, are the eyes and ears of a countess—that, I believe, ranks higher.” He laughed. “And such fine eyes—do you not agree, Georgiana, that Miss Bennet possesses the finest eyes we have ever seen?”
He paused. “I must admit that I have some intelligence of you, Miss Bennet. My brother, Lord Milton, saw you at Mrs. Marcet’s scientific evening some weeks past, where Sir Humphrey Davy spoke. Though you were not introduced, he caught your name and remarked on your very fine eyes.”
Elizabeth huffed. “Colonel, if you mention fine eyes once more, I shall turn my back and speak only with your cousin. Miss Darcy, how do you tolerate the man? While, no doubt, he convalesces, perhaps it would have been easier on his acquaintances if the bullet had stopped his tongue—or at the very least, had wounded it also.”
Miss Darcy, whose reception of this interchange had astonished her, looked to Elizabeth with such approbation that the latter felt both flattered and embarrassed.
“Do you have sisters, Miss Darcy?” she asked. “I have four, which I often lament is four too many. But I cannot repine, for my elder sister, Jane, is all that is sweet and lovely—you would enjoy her company very much. My next younger sister, Mary, is rather serious, and the two youngest, Kitty and Lydia, of an age with yourself, are far too lively, but of kind disposition; and, truth be told, I would not exchange them for all the silver in the world. Gold, perhaps; but not silver!”
The conversation continued. The banter between Elizabeth and the Colonel was somewhat reduced, but Miss Darcy, relaxing as she was drawn into their discourse, was soon equally engaged.
Presently, tea was brought in; the company settled themselves, Lady Matlock and Lady Jersey conversing in low tones over their cups while the younger party gathered about a table, inlaid with marquetry, by the window.
Encouraged by Elizabeth’s warmth and the Colonel’s easy humour, Georgiana felt confident enough to forward the conversation. “Miss Bennet, you mentioned Child & Co.,” she ventured shyly. “Is it very difficult work? I have never met a lady who is so employed. I think it must require great cleverness.”
Elizabeth smiled, stirred by the girl’s earnestness. “Not so much cleverness, Miss Darcy, as a willingness to learn, and perhaps a little courage. There are many things a lady may accomplish, if only she is allowed to try. My mother, I confess, despairs of me, for she would rather I spent my hours reading poetry and tending my needlework.”
“But you do not wish it?” Georgiana asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“Not always. I love my home dearly, but I have found I also like to be useful—to have a purpose beyond the drawing room—a place in the world, as men do.”
