“And Lady Catherine?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, Catherine was a disaster from the start. Her air of superiority and her bad manners sent all the young men running away. Her marriage to Sir Lewis de Bourgh came about only as a result of the fortuitous combination of her dowry and his debts.”
“I do not yet understand why I must enter society. I would much prefer to live quietly here in London, and attract as little attention as possible.”
The Countess and Mrs. Gardiner both shook their heads. The Countess said, “Like it or not, you are Mrs. Darcy and must be seen as the lovely, intelligent, animated, gifted young woman that you are. Equally important, we do not want the gossips thinking that there is something amiss with your marriage. You must believe me when I tell you that you would come to regret it.”
Elizabeth looked unconvinced. Mrs. Gardiner added, “Also, having you succeed in society would put two noses firmly out of joint – Lady Anne’s and Lady Catherine’s. Oh, and a third nose as well, that of Miss Bingley, should you care to consider that factor.”
The Countess and Mrs. Gardiner laughed together, but it took another three-quarters of an hour of discussion before Elizabeth was persuaded.
Chapter Fifty-Four
The Countess was determined to have Elizabeth living at Darcy House, but Elizabeth pointed out that she had never been there, and the servants were as likely to kick her down the steps as admit her, particularly as her two gowns were now badly travel-stained.
Thus, the Earl and Countess together escorted their niece to Darcy House. The butler opened the door; seeing the Earl and Countess with a strange young woman, he bowed low and said, “My lord, my lady, the master is not here.”
“We know that, Thompson,” the Countess said, sweeping past him into the entryway. “But here is your new mistress.”
“Mistress?” The butler could not have been more surprised. “We heard that the master had married.”
“Yes, this is Mrs. Darcy. Collect all the servants, if you please, so that she may be presented to them.Now, Thompson.”
In just ten minutes’ time, the servants of the house were lined up for Elizabeth’s perusal. She stepped in front of the woman who stood beside the butler, eyes straight ahead. “Housekeeper, I presume?” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy, I am Mrs. Armstrong.”
“Very good; we will speak together soon, Mrs. Armstrong.”
Elizabeth went down the line, repeating each name as she heard it. The Matlocks remained throughout the ceremony; there would be no doubt of her identity and her right to command obedience in this house.
“Elizabeth, I will call on you tomorrow and we will make our plans,” the Countess said. “Meanwhile, the knocker should remain off the door. Thompson, admit no one other than myself and the Earl, and Mrs. Darcy’s Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. The neighbours are already watching, and there will be a good deal of curiousity about Mrs. Darcy. It is your responsibility to protect her from that curiousity. And if any of the servants gossip about Mrs. Darcy, I will take it upon myself to ferret out who is responsible for it!”
“Yes, my lady, I understand.”
With hugs and expressions of gratitude, Elizabeth bid her relations adieu. Then she turned to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Armstrong, I would like a tour of the house, please. I have very little luggage, just this small valise, which should be brought to the mistress’ room.”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth felt like an imposter, issuing orders in this enormous, opulent town house as if she had a right to do so. “I do have that right,” she told herself, again and again. “For better or for worse, I am Mrs. Darcy.” She stood tall and walked through the house as if she were there with the master’s permission, as if he would not come and exile her again to a dreadful existence in Derbyshire.
It was clear that it had been some time since Darcy House had been used for entertaining, as the furniture and wallcoverings were old and unattractive. If Elizabeth was to live here, she would make it her own. The Countess had made it clear that there would be a good deal of shopping to be done, so she would order whatever she thought the house needed as well. The expense to her husband’s purse was no longer a factor; he deserved no such consideration.
***
That night, alone in a large four-poster bed, she was finally able to think back over the events of that last day and put them all into some sort of perspective. What Lady Anne had done was clearly the work of a disordered mind. What Abby had done was the result of poor character.
But what herhusbandhad done! That is what had wounded her to the heart. He claimed to love her and she had allowed herself to love him, and that – that! – was what had hurt her so very, very deeply. She had been right all along; she had not been given enough time to see him as he truly was. Like her father, she would have to live with her regrets for the remainder of her life.
How did one move forward from this? How was one ever able to forgive, to forget, to make a life together, after learning that everything one had believed about one’s marriage and one’s partner was a lie? She could not imagine it. She could not imagine that she and William would ever reconcile.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Elizabeth’s arrival at Darcy House did not go unnoticed. Perhaps one of the neighbours had something to do with the snippet of gossip that appeared inThe Morning Post.
The as-yet-unknown Mrs. D from Derbyshire recently arrived in London, unaccompanied by her new husband. We are given to understand that the Earl and Countess of M attended their nephew’s wedding and are on good terms with the bride. We look forward to seeing Mrs. D about Town!
This tidbit was seen by Miss Bingley, who hastened to write to her sister at Netherfield. The letter, comprised mainly of complaints against a variety of people, not excluding their brother, included this paragraph.
