“Ghastly? No indeed; you know I wish to wed and have children someday. At the very least, I shall be gratified by moving in society and meeting a great many amusing people whom you and I shall discuss together with insurmountable irreverence. Can that not be enough to please you? I imagine I shall fall in love someday – it is my nature, for I could never marry without the deepest attachment – but you need not fear my heart has been captured my first evening in town.”
They both knew Elizabeth was not being entirely truthful. Rebecca had been as shrewdly observant as ever that evening, though Elizabeth had not been daunted by her cousin’s watchful gaze. She simply could not help herself. There was something irresistible about Mr. Darcy, not only in his good looks and stimulating conversation, but in his very name. He was in every way Elizabeth’s ideal of just what a gentleman ought to be.
Rebecca opened her mouth to protest Elizabeth’s denial, but the offer of more whiskey silenced her long enough for the subject to turn.
“I wonder, what are the chances that your sister Rose is having a similar conversation next door with Jane? Surely she must be quizzing her about your brother, for Jane is not wicked enough to tease her about Mr. Bingley.”
“Poor Rose, I think she actually likes him. I do not think he fancies her overly much – or perhaps Richard has spoken to him, though I cannot imagine why he would not approve. It is an odd sort of thing between brothers and sisters, I suppose. But Mother is quite determined, and I fear my poor sister may not have the same liberty of choice I had at her age, before Rupert’s lavish spending depleted what is left for the girls.” Rebecca grimaced. “Our family is quite ridiculous, Lizzy.”
“I am sorry for Rose. But at least she seems keen enough to be fallen in love with; she may yet charm Mr. Bingley – perhaps in a year or two, when she has grown more sensible.”
“I cannot think Mr. Bingley entitled to a sensible creature, since he is not such a one himself.”
Elizabeth laughed with wicked glee. “Yes, but at least he is affable and ready to agree with everyone. The poor man! I believe I could pinpoint the exact moment at dinner when he realized that he did not wish to compete with Richard for Jane’s attention. He was quite deflated.”
“I should like to hear what Jane has to say about that! It would serve my brother right, you know, if she took a liking to his friend. He has evaded her all these years, so he hardly deserves to have her served up to him on a silver platter.”
A small parlor connected the bedrooms of the two sisters of the house; Elizabeth and her cousin crept through it, stumbling a little in the darkness before they entered the chamber Rose was sharing with Jane. The scene they discovered was far from the one they had quit in Rebecca’s room.
The fire had nearly gone out, and the room was dark, the curtains drawn closed. Jane and Rose sat cross-legged atop the bed. They were both in their bedclothes, their hair loosely braided. Jane held a small candle so that the light shone eerily over her face, and she spoke in a slow and eerie tone of voice.
“And every year on that night, if there is a full moon, you will certainly see the ghost of Lady Mary in the upper gallery, weeping before the portrait of her murderous and murdered husband. Some have even said that if a storm has shadowed the full moon, the portrait of Sir Ebenezer will bleed.”
Elizabeth and Rebecca had opened the door without a sound, which allowed the latter an irresistible opportunity to sneak behind her sister, then spring forward and grab her by the shoulders. “OoooOoooooOoooooOoOooh!”
Rose let out a shriek, and Jane nearly dropped her candle as she leaned forward to clamp a hand over the girl’s mouth. “Rosamund Lydia Fitzwilliam! You could wake the devil!”
Elizabeth was nearly doubled over with laughter. “Jane, not this old story!”
Rebecca chuckled as she settled on the bed beside her sister. “Did Annie never tell you the story of her great-grandmother de Bourgh before? I must have heard it a dozen times when we were girls! Well, Lady Catherinewouldmarry into such a family, eh?”
Elizabeth crossed the room to add some wood to the dwindling fire, and took the opportunity to study her sister. When the blaze cast more light on Jane, Elizabeth instantly understood why her sister had been telling ghost stories with Rose. And if Jane wished to deflect from talk of the gentlemen, that must mean it was a subject well worth raising with her.
She hesitated. Jane was more reserved than she was, and certainly more than their cousins. Elizabeth supposed that shewould do better to speak to her sister privately, for she was rather of the same mind as Rebecca, and hoped that Jane might give Richard just a little trouble in his courtship. She would spare her sister the Fitzwilliam inquisition, and so she coaxed Rebecca back to their room.
The topic was broached by Lady Catherine the next morning; indeed, the prospects of her daughters occupied her for much of the day. She, Jane, and Elizabeth met with Lady Anne and Georgiana, took tea with Lady Findlay, and then embarked on a shopping trip of epic proportions.
Lady Catherine was determined to display her girls to advantage at a number of occasions over the next month. She ordered them each a dozen new gowns as she speculated on their trips to the opera and the theatre, the dinner parties they would attend and the morning calls they would make amongst her acquaintance, balls they would dance at, and walks in the park they would take with their inevitable plethora of suitors. They would have a fine frock for every outing, and a great many new accoutrements besides.
Of course, Lady Catherine purchased a great deal for herself, as well, having not ordered any of them new clothes, shoes, hats, or other finery since before their several years of mourning. This gave Elizabeth some opportunity to turn the teasing back on her mother with a conjecture that perhapsshewas in want of a beau. It was a necessary deflection, for Elizabeth could see that Jane was uneasy with the other ladies’ indiscreet manner of speaking about the match with Richard as if it were already a certainty. Jane managed to conceal her blushes and sly smiles from everyone but her sister, who was growing impatient to speak with her sister privately.
They returned to Matlock House exhausted from a long day of shopping to find that Rupert, the young and decadently debauched Earl of Matlock had arrived in town from his estatein Derbyshire. Dinner that evening, with the additions of Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine, was a far cry from the casual and carefree meal they had enjoyed the night before. Tonight, Lady Rebecca had ample occasions to remind her cousin that she was right – their family was mad.
Quite simply, everybody was utterly themselves that evening. Lady Catherine held court at her nephew’s table, while down at the other end, the dowager countess did her best to mitigate the young earl’s evident drunkenness. Rupert Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock, slouched back indecorously in his chair, leering at his cousins and sniping with Rebecca. For her part, Rebecca was more restrained in her caustic address toward her brother, likely for the sake of their guests.
Rebecca had accomplished something devious in her steady stream of insolence to Rupert, delivered from the middle of the table – she was really seated a little too far from him to make their conversation private. But she managed to insulate Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, who were seated near the earl and his mother. They were not obliged to speak to him themselves, and were thus left to have another agreeable conversation as Lady Rebecca’s sauciness shielded them from what notice Lady Catherine could spare from her observation of Jane and Richard.
A modicum of sympathy shaded Elizabeth’s enjoyment of the supper, for she was sorry that Jane should face such scrutiny. Even so, she appeared to enjoy herself well enough. Both Richard and Mr. Bingley spoke to her a great deal and seemed to gratify her with their attentions, while Rose watched with a look of awe as if studying Jane for some secret means of inspiring admiration.
After dinner, Elizabeth no longer enjoyed relative privacy in conversing with Mr. Darcy as freely as she liked. The gentlemen lingered longer over their brandy and cigars thanthey had done the night before. While Jane played the pianoforte and the dowager countess listened obligingly with her daughters, Lady Catherine approached Elizabeth with a look of intent.
“My dear, I hope you were not obliged to waste your charms on your unfortunate dinner companions. But do not suppose I shall neglect you, once your cousin Richard has prevailed over his tradesman friend in captivating Jane’s affections.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at her mother. “I hope my services in diverting some of the unsavory element of the house were not unsatisfactory. Besides, Rebecca gave Rupert so much trouble that I was obliged only once or twice to agree with his belching nonsense. And Mr. Darcy – well, he is not at all objectionable, either in character or situation.”
“I shall grant you that, but until I have spoken properly with him, I cannot say more,” Lady Catherine said with an imperious set in her shoulders. “He is no tradesman, at least, though one really ought to avoid being French, where it is at all possible. As to his character, you must let me be the judge, for I shall not be influenced by his appearance. There are plenty of handsome men in London, and some of them are even worthy of you – you simply have not met anyone more suitable yet.”
Elizabeth grinned and shook her ahead at her mother’s lofty aspirations. “I shall draw the line at dukes, Mamma – I should make a miserable duchess, for I am far too self-indulgent to take such a station quite seriously. You must aim no higher than a marquess for me, though I know it will pain you.”
