Their conversation was interrupted by the butler announcing the arrival of Mrs. Gardiner.
“Madeline,” Lady Rumley cried out upon seeing her beloved sister by marriage. “I had hoped you would come to see me.”
“I thought you might welcome a familiar face.”
“You are correct in your assumption, as usual.” Franny resumed her seat and waved a hand for Madeline to sit across from her. “Would you like some tea? I can have a maid bring a fresh pot.”
“That would be lovely, and while we wait, you can tell me all about Tetherwood.”
“I shall leave you ladies to your tea and catch up on some correspondence, the most notable being from Kent,” Bennet said, with a wink in the direction of Elizabeth. “Apparently, a solicitor, at the behest of one Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has requested to peruse the documents pertaining to my inheritance, and the reason for excluding a distant cousin.”
“Oh, that buffoon!” Lady Rumley cried out, her eyes flashing with anger. “How stupid can one man be?”
“Very stupid, my dear.” Bennet leaned over and kissed his wife’s temple. “I shall see you at dinner.”
“Franny, I would liketo personally introduce you to someone I consider a great friend,” Madeline Gardiner said, taking hold of her hand and drawing her forward towards Lucinda Fitzwilliam, the Countess of Matlock.
Formal introductions had been performed, quite ably, by Mr. Darcy when the Bennet family had first arrived at his town house on Park Lane for dinner. The drawing room was long and handsomely appointed, the candlelight catching the glint of jewels and the sheen of silk as guests dispersed into smallerclusters. Some conversations moved haltingly between strangers still finding their footing, while others had grown warm and lively, punctuated by laughter and the pleasant surprise of shared acquaintances and common interests. Mrs. Gardiner now steered her sister-in-law towards a lady she held in particular esteem, one whose goodwill could open doors for Franny and her daughters within the upper ten thousand. A woman whose posture alone announced that she had never once needed to seek approval from a room.
“Lady Matlock, Lady Rebecca,” Madeline said as they drew up before the two women. Lady Matlock, upright in her bearing, was dressed in deep violet silk with a rope of pearls at her throat. Beside her stood her daughter, Lady Rebecca, who watched their approach with quiet, appraising eyes. “Formal introductions aside, I am so happy for my husband’s sister to meet you at last.”
“Lady Matlock.” Franny curtsied with care. “Lady Rebecca.” She offered the younger woman equal respect.
“Lady Rumley,” both ladies returned with elegance.
“Madeline has spoken of you often over the years,” Lady Matlock said, her dark eyes moving over the new Lady Rumley with the practiced ease of a woman accustomed to forming swift and accurate opinions. “I feel I know you and your daughters nearly as well as my own.”
“Then I am at a disadvantage,” Franny replied, her eyes bright with amusement. “I had rather hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit, but one can hardly manage that when introduced by someone so thoroughly acquainted with one’s true character.”
Lady Matlock blinked. Then the corner of her mouth lifted, and lifted further, until she was smiling in full. A smile that, Franny suspected, was not given cheaply. “You will do very wellindeed, Lady Rumley, as I suspect you are much like your daughter, Elizabeth.”
The conversation soon turned to a proposed shopping excursion. Lady Rumley had designs on Gardiner Emporium for drapery fabrics and counterpane materials, and Lady Matlock declared herself very willing to join her, adding that she had long wanted an excuse to see the new imported silks everyone had been talking about. It was, by any measure, a promising beginning.
“Are you happy, dearest?”Darcy asked Elizabeth, his eyes moving between her face and the small gathering across the room where her parents stood among his relatives.
She glanced up at him and smiled. “I am. It appears as though Mamma has discovered a kindred spirit in your aunt, Lady Matlock and cousin Lady Rebecca. I feared she might be too nervous even to speak with them.”
Darcy chuckled quietly. “You forget your aunt is smoothing the path for her. See how she gently guides your mother’s nervous actions with subtle touches and — look — even now she has quietly placed her hand on the small of your mother’s back. An instinctive motherly gesture as I have ever seen, and your mother calms almost immediately. Note how her shoulders drop and her fan stills.”
“Aunt Madeline is the kindest woman I know. She outshines even Jane with gentle good humour.”
“That is high praise indeed.”
“It is simply the truth. Jane and I owe our most formative years to Aunt Madeline’s care. Mamma, having borne threechildren in four short years, scarcely had the strength for two little girls at her heels. So, we remained in London nearly three years straight, then for the next twelve summers alternated between our uncle’s home and Tetherwood. My fondest memories are firmly entwined with the family and the warm bustle that makes up twenty-three Gracechurch Street.”
Darcy took her hand, his thumb tracing a slow arc across her knuckles. “I am grateful your aunt shaped you so well, for I love every aspect of who you are.”
“What has the two of you sequestered in a corner of the room, when you should be mixing and mingling with the others?” Jane teased, gliding up to them on the arm of Mr. Morgan.
“We were admiring how Aunt Madeline takes care of Mamma, guiding her like a mother duck with her baby duckling.”
“I suspect our aunt will cut the leading strings before night’s end. Mamma is quite comfortable, now that the introductions are over with, and she can get on with the task of building a friendship.” Jane glanced fondly across the room at their mother, who was laughing freely at something Lady Rebecca had said. “Making and keeping friends is one of Mamma’s finest gifts. In that respect, she is much like you, Lizzy.”
“You are the second person in our family to say that very thing,” Elizabeth declared. “I only recognised it myself when Papa pointed it out at Tetherwood.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Hurry up!” the younglady urged, tugging at her reluctant companion’s sleeve with urgent fingers. “We shall miss the coach entirely if you continue to dawdle.”
