“It is; a rout is a disorderly retreat, but in social terms it means a party that is – hmm, I suppose disordered is still the right term! There will likely be a good deal of conversation, cards, music and, of course, food and drink.” Elizabeth eyed her sister, knowingly. “You will look for a quiet corner in which you might sit with a book, but that will not be possible!”
“Will you stay with me?” Mary’s voice was plaintive, and almost quivered.
“Oh, Mary! Of course I will! You are here to do me a service, to keep me company, and I know I have tortured you with new clothing and new acquaintances, but I would not abandon you in a noisy room full of strangers.”
Thus soothed, Mary suffered herself to be helped into a carriage and driven the few blocks to Park Lane. Elizabeth thought, privately, that Mary looked quite pretty, attired in a blossom-coloured gown of silk with the pearls from Elizabeth’s wedding at her throat.
Lady Cowper’s home was quite elegant, as Elizabeth had expected. Upon being announced by the very solemn butler, some of the people Elizabeth had met at the Countess’ dinner party came to greet her and to meet Mrs. Darcy’s sister. Elizabeth felt immediately reassured that she was not among strangers, and Lady Cowper’s warm greeting was in no way lacking.
The drawing room was full of people, but not so crowded that it could be considered a crush. Elizabeth was grateful for that, as Mary would have been completely overwhelmed. Nonetheless, it was a noisy party, and Elizabeth could see Mary stiffening in reaction, so after the rush of introductions had ended, she took Mary by the arm and walked with her to a sofa near the piano. A young lady was playing a Pleyel piece that Mary recognised, and the music visibly soothed Mary’s troubled soul. When it was done, the young lady turned to Mary and said, “Do you enjoy music?”
“Oh! Very much! And you play beautifully!”
The young lady called out, “Mama? Might someone introduce us?”
A matron who had been introduced to Mary upon her arrival hastened over. “Of course, my dear. Miss Bennet, please allow me to present my daughter, Miss Landon. Emily, this is Miss Bennet, who is Mrs. Darcy’s sister.”
Mary curtsied, and the young lady rose from the piano bench and did the same. “Thank you, Mama! Miss Bennet, might you play for the company?”
Mary was accustomed to being asked to exhibit, as very few young ladies in Meryton had ever bothered to befriend the instrument, and she was able to acquit herself creditably. Then she and Miss Landon played a duet together.
Elizabeth, seeing that Mary was well-occupied, thought it safe now to get herself something to drink, though she would keep an eye on her shy sister and be ready to rescue her should that be required.
A footman came by with a tray containing a variety of libations; she accepted a glass of champagne with a nod of thanks. Sipping it, she made her way slowly around the room, observing the beautifully dressed ladies and the dapper gentlemen. None of the gentlemen were as handsome as William, she thought, and then she was overcome with a feeling of grief so deep and so painful that she was forced to sink into a chair.
She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder; looking up, she saw Lady Cowper looking at her with sympathy.
Rising, Elizabeth said, quickly, “I am sorry, my lady; just a momentary faint.”
Lady Cowper said, softly, “My maid has a sister in service at Pemberley; she wrote that Mrs. Darcy had been badly treated by Lady Anne and chose to leave for parts unknown.”
Elizabeth gaped, and then began to stutter an explanation, but Lady Cowper shook her head. “No, Mrs. Darcy, I did not intend to alarm you, and I have forbidden my maid to reveal your whereabouts. I only wish you to know that I have some understanding of what you have endured and I wish you well.”
Elizabeth managed to thank her hostess, who nodded kindly and walked away.
The party continued; she was introduced to a good many people, though she later recalled none of their names. She persuaded Mary away from the pianoforte, and the two of them made a fine dinner from the wide assortment of pies, pâtés, hams, capons, ices, jellies, and more. Two gentlemen made it a point to keep their glasses full, which worried Mary at first, but their good manners and respectful behaviour soothed Mary’s initial alarms.
When Elizabeth thought they had stayed long enough, she whispered into Mary’s ear, and the two ladies thanked their hostess and were soon back at Darcy House. “Was it so very terrible, Mary?” she asked.
“Not at all; the pianoforte was an excellent instrument, and Miss Landon an outstanding musician.”
Elizabeth smiled. “And the gentlemen who spoke with us during dinner?”
“It was fine, though I do not look for such attentions, you know.”
***
As the days went on, though, Mary gained confidence. Elizabeth and Kate praised her a good deal – her looks, her complexion, her music – and she blossomed under their warmth. She attended a few meetings with like-minded women, and became ever more certain that she was just as good (if not better) as any man walking the earth. Elizabeth privately thought that if Mary had exchanged one religion for another, as appeared to be the case, it was a very beneficial switch indeed.
***
Elizabeth received a letter from Lydia, which she read at breakfast, first smiling and then frowning.
“Not bad news, I hope?” Mary said.
“Read it,” Elizabeth said, passing it to Mary.
Dear Lizzy,
