"There was not," agreed Mr Bennet. "Every spring Lady Hortensia invited ten ladies and ten gentlemen to Chaffley Hall for what she called the Ladies vs. Gentlemen Challenge. The guests were divided into two teams and spent the week competing in all manner of contests. Some required wit, others skill and some, as I recall, a great willingness to make a fool of oneself before strangers."
Lydia sat upright and clapped her hands together, her jealousy momentarily forgotten. "That sounds excellent."
"The winning side claimed the Challenge Cup. The ladies won it in my year, and deservedly so," he said with a wink at Elizabeth.
"It was not merely the games," said Mrs Bennet eagerly. "People said the parties were the finest in England. Therewere concerts, picnics, masquerades and all of the most eligible ladies and gentlemen of the season." She sniffed. "I am still not sure how your father contrived an invitation."
Mr Bennet shook his head affectionately at his wife. "My father had been at Cambridge with Lady Hortensia’s husband, Sir Malcolm. But I admit to feeling rather below my company among the titled gentlemen and heiresses that made up the party. However, the lady herself was very kind. Indeed I have never forgotten our conversations."
Mrs Bennet fingered the corner of one creamy invitation wistfully. "I should have dearly loved to attend one."
"So would half the ton. Lady Hortensia had an extraordinary gift for bringing people together. A remarkable number of engagements began at Chaffley Hall."
Elizabeth glanced down at the invitation again. "If everyone wished to go, why have we never heard of it?"
Mr Bennet's smile faded a little. "Because the year after I attended, Sir Malcolm died. Lady Hortensia cancelled the following Challenge and never announced another. For a time society expected the invitations to return. They never did. Before long the Ladies vs Gentlemen Challenge became a pleasant memory."
Elizabeth unfolded the thick sheet of paper. "'Lady Hortensia Settle requests the pleasure of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's company at Chaffley Hall,'" she read, before pausing at the next line. "'...for the revival of the Ladies vs Gentlemen Challenge.'"
Mr Bennet looked at the invitation for a long moment. "Well," he said quietly, "I never thought I should see those words again."
Chapter Two
Fitzwilliam Darcy had been looking forward to returning to Pemberley. London had afforded him very little peace. Every dinner appeared to produce another mother anxious to secure his acquaintance and another daughter determined to display her accomplishments. He did not blame the young ladies half so much as their parents, but Derbyshire and the peace it offered had never seemed more inviting.
He had promised Georgiana that once he was home again they would spend the afternoon together. She was to play him a new sonata, they would walk as far as the lake if the weather remained fair and dine quietly afterwards.
As the carriage turned between the stone gateposts and began the long drive towards the house, Darcy felt some of the weariness of the past month begin to fall away. The park looked exactly as he had left it. Sheep grazed peacefully beneath the old oaks, the river caught the afternoon sun in bright flashes between the trees and, beyond it all, Pemberley stood warm and familiar against the Derbyshire hills.
As they came to a halt before the house, Darcy saw that Mrs Reynolds, his trusted housekeeper, was already waiting upon thesteps. She had evidently been watching for his arrival, for she descended before the horses had fully drawn to a halt. “Beside her stood Mr Graves, Pemberley’s steward, who lived up to his name. A neat bundle of folded papers was tucked beneath his arm and his expression was stern. Darcy sighed. He knew that expression and it was not the sort that allowed for a peaceful afternoon.
Burke, Darcy’s valet, looked from one to the other as he gathered up the travelling things.
"I am pleased to see Mrs Reynolds, sir."
"So am I."
"It is Mr Graves who gives me cause for concern. I had hoped, just once, to find him waiting with a fishing rod and plans for a picnic luncheon."
Darcy laughed as the carriage came to a halt. "I think that exceedingly unlikely."
"So do I, sir. But I live in hope."
Mrs Reynolds came forward the moment Darcy stepped down onto the gravel. "Welcome home, Mr Darcy."
He smiled as he took both her hands in his. She was one of the few people in the world with whom such a greeting felt entirely natural. Mrs Reynolds had cared for him since childhood and,after his father's death, had watched over Georgiana with a devotion he would never forget.
"It is good to be home, Mrs Reynolds. I trust everything has been well?"
"Very well indeed, sir. Though I believe Miss Darcy has found the last fortnight rather long in your absence."
She went on in a quiet voice, "Mr Graves would like your opinion on several estate matters and I should warn you that Cook is having another one of her tempers."
"Has she threatened to resign again?"
Mrs Reynolds sighed. "Indeed, sir"
He let out a long breath. "I shall talk to her."
