“You are serious!”
“I am asking. You can refuse, and so can he. But nothing is to be gained without venturing the attempt.”
Matlock frowned, his mouth working into an unhappy scowl. “Very well. Draft your letter, and I will do all in my power to see it presented to Lord Belmont.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
Elizabeth
London
“Lizzy,didyouseethis ribbon? Is it not perfectly divine? How well it would look with my eyes! Johnny Lucas did say I looked ravishing in green.”
I paused and turned back to look at the length of ribbon Kitty was showing me. “Oh, indeed. You ought to ask Uncle if he can get you an entire bolt of this. I think I have seen nothing to rival its effects against your complexion. Why, it makes your eyes almost a different color!”
“You see?” Kitty crowed to Lydia. “I told you that dull red was nothing to this. I’m going to Uncle right now.” An instant later, the sisters were scrambling against one another, elbowing each other as they ran down the aisle to find Uncle Gardiner.
“You shouldn’t encourage them, Lizzy,” Jane admonished me. “You know Uncle’s generosity, and he will not like to disappoint them.”
“And yet, disappoint them he shall, for I happen to know the price on that ribbon. He gave them a strict allowance this time, and they have already exceeded it.”
Jane looped her arm through mine, and we wandered to the end of the aisle. “Well, I have no such ambitions,” she said. “A bit of lace to make over my ball gown. You recall how Lydia stepped on the hem? I tried saving it, but it is utterly ruined. What are you going to get today?”
“Hmm. I think just a little muslin for a new chemise. Nothing elaborate or very costly.”
“And yet, you were given the highest allowance of us all,” Jane said, nudging my elbow with a smile.
“Only because I have never spent all of what he offered. I believe he keeps a rolling tally of how far under budget my purchases always are.”
Jane giggled. “Or perhaps because you’re his favorite.”
“Stuff and nonsense. He feels responsible for me, but he needn’t. I am quite well enough, and I would not wish him to think he has some special obligation to me that he does not have for the rest of you.”
Jane lifted her shoulders, and we continued to wander through Uncle Gardiner’s warehouse without much conversation. He was not reallymyuncle—more of a guardian, but he had invited me to call him such, and at the time, I was feeling particularly adrift and cast out. Someone who offered the kinship of his family, and who was so kind through that terrible time, became to me the dearest man alive. So, yes, I called him my uncle.
Just as I called Jane my sister, though it was merely a term of affection. And Papa, and… and Mama… all of them, really. In seven years, they had become family to me, so much so that it was difficult to recall a time when I did not even know them.
When I did think of the “time before,” as I called it in my mind, it seemed a nebulous dream. A ghostly memory, the sort where one has to verify the remembered “facts” with others, to determine how much of it was true and how much fancy. The one thing I could recall with absolute clarity was George.
But that was not a happy thought, though it should have been. For years, I wrote letters to Pemberley, and for the first six months, I received swift replies. Then, nothing. It was as if I no longer existed. But I am a stubborn creature, and I would not permit myself to be ignored, and so I kept writing.
It was two years before Papa finally sat me down over a chess board and forced me to recognize the truth—George Darcy had no intention of writing back. He was a wealthy young man, probably away at Eton or Cambridge, and whatever else had come his way, I was one thing that no longer lay in his path.
I would never see him again.
“Lizzy, what do you think of this one?” Jane released my arm and reached for a fine length of lace, fingering it to test the quality. If there was one thing Mama had taught us all, it was how to determine quality—or, rather, how to make our pin money stretch the farthest while still retaining theappearanceof quality.
I curled my hand under the length, rolling my fingers through it, and shook my head. “Very poor. I am surprised Uncle even keeps such a sample in stock.”
“Not all garments require the highest quality,” Jane reminded me. “Should I be expectant and demanding that every gown of mine have the very best lace?”
“No, but we are not looking for lace for your night dresses, but your ball gown. Jane, I fear you will not be demanding and expectantenough, and not merely in matters of lace.”
She scoffed lightly and shook her head. “Are you talking about my cousin Collins again? Honestly, Lizzy, it is as if you had already met the man and knew him to be a cad. Perhaps he is handsome and of good character.”
“Yes,” I murmured absently as my eyes roved the shelves. “And perhaps you will discover a silver spoon in the haystack.”
“I think you mean a ‘needle in the haystack.’”
