Since his arrival, he had thought of little except proposing again, but the circumstances needed to be right. There were too many people around, too many voices and too much laughter, and even after the wedding, he could not find an appropriate moment, as the breakfast was so noisy that he could hardly hear her voice. As for the ball, it was so pleasant merely to dance with her that he postponed his plans, eager to enjoy the moment to its fullest extent. He remembered the last time they had danced and wondered how he had failed to understand then that he loved her. It was love he had felt for Elizabeth from the first moment; love hidden beneath great layers of denial; love in Kent, when he insulted her sister and her whole family; love revealed afterwards in regret and sadness. In the end, it had always been love, from the moment he first met her to their reunion as the Netherfield heiress and the lady soon to be living in the Duchess of Beauford’s palace.
“When do you intend to go to London?” he asked.
“In a day or two, as soon as Jane leaves with Mr Bingley for their honeymoon.”
“From your tone, I see that you are enjoying the prospect.”
“Yes, of course I am. I want to meet the Duchess of Beauford and her grandson.”
“Her grandson?” asked Darcy, suddenly interested. Until then, nobody had said a word about a grandson, and he knew for certain that the duchess had no close relatives in London. Lady Matlock had told him the story in detail; there had been a long-estranged daughter, but they knew nothing about her.
“Yes, probably a child,” Elizabeth said, indifferent to the subject.
But Darcy was a vigilant landlord who managed the income and expenses of his vast estate himself. A quick calculation told him that a lady of twenty who had left London thirty years ago must now be at least fifty, whilst her ‘infant’ could easily be a gentleman of something-and-twenty.
“Or he could be your age,” he said, for the first time in his life truly experiencing jealousy.
“You must be wrong,” Elizabeth replied with the same indifference.
Chapter 18
But Darcy was not wrong. His calculation proved to be correct when the Bennet family arrived on a July afternoon at the Duchess of Beauford’s house.
Only Mr Bennet was absent. Blaming fatigue, he had asked, almost pleaded, for a few days of solitude. In appreciation of his decision to move to Netherfield, his family agreed.
In the majestic hall, they were welcomed by a pleasant old lady on the arm of an elegant young gentleman in his twenties, exactly as Mr Darcy had predicted. They both received their guests, who were also the owners of the house, with genuine pleasure; it was a complicated situation, but friendly smiles and deferential bows provided a temporary solution.
Once in the parlour, the duchess introduced Andrew Kendall to the ladies, and even Mary blushed as she observed the handsome gentleman eager to please them all.
The Bennet ladies tried hard not to appear overwhelmed by the house and not to reveal their hesitation and insecurity in this new world. Was Mrs Bennet the mistress or the old lady? It was a question she did not dare ask Uncle Thomas. She had discussed the matter with Elizabeth, the only one of herdaughters mature enough to understand such a problem, but she had not liked the answer. “I think, Mama, we should go there and behave like guests. In any circumstance, someone else owns the house, either Uncle Thomas or the duchess, and it is not ours. You cannot be the mistress, so the best attitude is to wait and see what Uncle Thomas decides.”
Elizabeth alone paid little attention to Mr Kendall. Great clouds seemed already to gather upon the horizon of a journey intended to bring only pleasure and entertainment. Her last discussion with her mother remained very much in her mind. After an initial period of reserve, Mrs Bennet had become almost unstoppable in asserting what she considered their new position. In this house, and in the duchess’s presence, she was displaying the worst possible behaviour. Jane had always been the one capable of tempering their mother on such occasions. Calm and tactful, she invariably found the proper words and tone, whilst Elizabeth generally succeeded only in provoking irritation. But Jane was far away, blissfully happy with the man she loved, and the responsibility now rested elsewhere.
Her only hope was Uncle Thomas, and just after the grand tour of the house, she followed him into the library.
“I will not keep you long,” she said.
Her uncle smiled. He loved the fact that Elizabeth treated him exactly as she did her father.
“Keep me as long as you wish!” he replied, attempting to show her the library. “This library is the only place in the house that has not been vastly restored. I wanted the old majesty to reign here. These armchairs and the mahogany shelves are more than a hundred years old!”
Elizabeth nodded. Discovering that room under her uncle’s guidance would have been a pleasure, but another matter required attention first.
“I am a little embarrassed to tell you this, but you are the only one who can help me.”
Curiosity immediately appeared upon his countenance.
“It is about Mama and Lydia,” she said, attempting a smile. “Mama is a wonderful mother, but—”
“But she has not mastered the art of behaving in society,” he said with much tenderness. “Neither has your little sister.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth murmured, relieved. She disliked speaking about her mother in such a manner, but the danger was real. “None of us has, as we have already discussed, but Mary and I can remain silent and observe before speaking, whilst Mama and Lydia—”
“What about Catherine?”
“She always follows Lydia. I am afraid that the duchess will find Mama and my sisters annoying, and our relationship with her ladyship depends upon her benevolence.”
“Yes, in a way, you are right, but you must understand that, harsh as it may seem, the duchess’s role is to help you and not the other way round. I was very clear when I presented you and explained what each of you required from her. She will treat you all, including your mother, like schoolgirls in need of instruction.”
