“What age are they?” Bingley rubbed his palms together with interest.
“My cousin Georgiana is proper and genteel, and everything a young lady ought to be except interesting, but that may alter once she grows up a little more; she is only just seventeen. She is a Darcy, which may confound things for you, Will; you may be obliged to remind my aunts that there is no family connection. As to the Bennets, the eldest is three-and-twenty, and the youngest is nearly one-and twenty. Before you ask, I can tell you Miss Jane Bennet is fair and willowy, gentle and obliging in her manners, exceedingly accomplished, and in possession of thirty thousand pounds. I have heard her virtues extolled at length! I have heard less of Miss Elizabeth, but I recall her being dark-haired and rather satirical. She is Rebecca’s favorite of the sisters, which ought to tell you everything you need to know.”
Richard screwed up his face. His sister, Lady Rebecca Fitzwilliam, was nearly Darcy’s age, and had sworn never to marry, a brand of obstinacy her mother, the dowager countess, happily indulged. Lady Matlock also freely allowed her sharp-tongued daughter to speak frankly to all their relations and connections, which perhaps made her desire never to a wed a blessing – and a near certainty.
Bingley rested his hands behind his head and leaned back, elbows out, his pose jaunty. “Ladies! There could be no finer inducement to stay with you, although your mother’s cook is excellent.”
“I daresay you could offer her tempting wages, if you wished her to beyourcook instead,” William told his friend with a devilish wink.
“That is very bad form, Darcy,” Richard chided. “But I hope you will both be on your worst behavior while you are here. It is imperative. Hopefully we shall drive my aunts and their daughters from the house within a week.”
“And what if the daughters are pretty?”
“I think you know, Bingley.” Richard turned to William with a look of challenge. “What say you, Darcy? There are three cousins – - one for each of us, if theyarepretty!”
“We must certainly make love to them if they are pretty,” Bingley said. “And to someone else if they are plain.”
William smiled and shook his head. Even when he came to London and stepped into his role as the jolly Will Darcy, he had little success with women. His habitual pursuits tended more to the scholarly than most popular diversions, he had little talent for flirting and charming the ladies, and his fortune was nothing compared to Bingley’s wealth and Richard’s connections.
And yet, he felt a glimmer of hope. Surely one of the three might be agreeable. He had lately begun to think it might suit him to take a wife – certainly his ward, Miss Cardew, would appreciate another young lady about at the manor, and he was at liberty to marry as he chose, free from the concerns of rank and fortune, and the interference of elderly relatives.
He had always felt sure he required far too much in a prospective bride. Or rather, he felt himself to be such an unusual sort of fellow himself that he had always supposed only an equally uncommon woman would comprehend him. And yet, any creature who might satisfy his desires for a beautiful, graceful woman of wit and intelligence, and a certain style of whimsy that he himself had developed in his years of masquerading as Darcy – such an incomparable creature must surely be worthy of aiming far higher than an obscure country gentleman.
Richard seemed to be awaiting some agreement from William, and so he gave a nod of his head. “It is a pity we must determine whether we wish to woo these ladies under thesupervision of your mother and aunts. The dowager countess makes me quite nervous the way she always stares at me so strangely.”
Richard tapped his chin with one finger. “Now that is an interesting notion.”
“And here is another,” Bingley cried. “Let us go to the club!”
Richard grinned. “An excellent notion! The ladies shall soon be returning, and my relations may arrive at any moment – my elder brother Reginald is expected today or tomorrow, and surelyhewill never find us at White’s, for he owes a fortune there.”
William added his own hearty agreement to the scheme. His household at Wildewood believed Will Darcy to be his utterly debauched cousin, whose bills were sent regularly to William at the manor, and on whose behalf he was often obliged to go to London to save from some scrape or other. He was perfectly willing to dine lavishly for the sake of maintaining Darcy’s legendary decadence.
***
The five ladies from Kent were shown into the parlor at Matlock House, and Elizabeth gave her sister a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Jane had been anxious at the prospect of meeting with the gentleman Lady Catherine desired her to marry – a man who had assiduously avoided them since the young ladies of Rosings reached a marriageable age.
Fortunately, the gentlemen were still at their club; Elizabeth could see Jane’s posture visibly relax upon meeting only with the dowager countess and her daughters. Lady Matlock rang for tea, and the large group of ladies fell easily intothe lively sort of conversation that naturally followed a lengthy period of separation.
Lady Rose Fitzwilliam was half a year older than Georgiana, and was also embarking upon her first season out in society, so the two fell into easy chatter together, their whispers and giggles endearing to Elizabeth. She and Jane were equally inexperienced in the ton, but Lady Rebecca spared no time in taking charge of them. She was a determined spinster with a wicked sense of humor, and Elizabeth had always been a great favorite of hers.
“You must share with me, Lizzy,” she declared when the uncomfortable matter of sleeping arrangements was broached by her mother and aunts. “I can share with both of you, if we must.”
The dowager countess gave her sisters-in-law a rueful look. “I am sorry about Richard’s friends, but they arrived this afternoon – I fear Richard may decamp if I turn them out of the house. Anne, Cathy, do you have any objection to sharing a bedchamber?”
Lady Catherine looked as if the dowager countess had asked her to parade through the square in her undergarments, but Lady Anne extended a hand as if to prevent a quarrel. “My late husband, Sir Geoffrey, has a sister who lives in Cavendish Square – Lady Findlay will be glad to house Georgiana and myself. I hope that will make the house a little less crowded.”
Elizabeth felt a twinge of distress at her aunt’s words. “You will not stay here, Lady Anne?”
“You are perfectly welcome to visit us as often as you like, Lizzy… while Lady Catherine and Jane areotherwise engaged.”
Jane blanched at this, and Lady Rebecca gave a very loud cough before turning the subject. “It is curious, Aunt – but one of my brother’s guests is called Darcy.”
Lady Anne’s posture went rigid. “Darcy? What do you know of him?”
The dowager countess grimaced at her eldest daughter before laying a placating hand at Lady Anne’s. “He met Richard seven years ago while travelling with some friends after finishing university. That must make him a year or two older than the age of your poor Fitz.”
“At any rate, it cannot be the same… that is, he was so young. He could not have told anybody his name, being an infant at the time. Wherever he is, he must be called something else entirely,” Lady Catherine said to her panicked sister, her cryptic tone confounding Elizabeth.
