“I should like to meet your Miss Elizabeth.”
“Sadly, she is not mine, nor is she likely to be; but you are welcome to accompany me back to Netherfield.”
“I fear my mother will not be pleased, but I will join you.”
The carriage then pulled up in front of Darcy House. Mr. Darcy was forced to go through lengthy explanations to his butler and housekeeper as to why he was staying at Matlock House when he would have been more than welcome at his own home, but he finally was able to go into his study, take the oil painting of Pemberley down from the wall, and open the safe hidden behind it.
“Here,” he said, handing a leather envelope stuffed full of receipts to his cousin.
“As many as that! Why, there must be almost a thousand pounds here!”
“More than a thousand.”
“He will be in prison for life.”
“Doubtless.”
“It is a harsh punishment, but well-deserved.”
“Truly, Richard, I should have done this long ago.”
“So what did this Miss Elizabeth say to have you reach this decision?"
“She asked me if it was rational for me to allow her friends and neighbours in Meryton to fall prey to Wickham, simply because I hoped that he would someday change.”
The Colonel whistled tunelessly. “She knows exactly how to speak to you.”
“Evidently.” Mr. Darcy sounded rueful.
“I am decided. I must meet her. Has she any money? If you will not have her, then perhaps I – good Lord, Darcy, I am not serious!”
Mr. Darcy collected himself. Had he actuallylungedfor his cousin? “I apologise, Richard. I am not myself, I fear.”
Or you are more yourself than ever before, his cousin thought.
***
Back at Matlock House, Mr. Darcy was informed by the Countess that they were to go to a ball that very night. Mr. Darcy did his best to be excused from attending, citing his travel-weariness, but his aunt was not to be dissuaded. “At least three of the ladies who are on my list will be there, Darcy; this is an excellent opportunity for you to meet them.”
He had forgotten about her list. If he were to forget Miss Elizabeth, as he knew he must, then meeting other young ladies was the ideal approach. “Very well, Aunt,” he conceded.
Going upstairs to his room, he had the dubious pleasure of informing Franklin that he was to attend a ball that night and then endure his valet’s crowing over his foresight in having packed precisely the right clothing for the event.
***
In the early hours of the next morning, Mr. Darcy, the Colonel, and the Earl and Countess entered the Matlock carriage toreturn home. The gentlemen were weary; the Countess was as bright-eyed as ever.
“Well, Darcy, you danced every dance. I am prodigiously proud of you!”
“I thank you for the introductions, Aunt,” her nephew replied, as was expected of him.
“And did any of the young ladies catch your eye?”
Mr. Darcy considered his evening and the many young ladies he had met. There was Miss Araminta Blodgett, daughter of a baronet, with a dowry of thirty thousand pounds. She had said not a word during the entire dance. There was, on the other hand, Lady Clara Beaumont, daughter of a baron, with a dowry of twenty-five thousand pounds, who had not stopped speaking about the latest fashions. Lady Agatha Ellsworth, daughter of an earl, with a dowry of thirty-five thousand pounds, had lectured him for twenty minutes on the pitfalls of feeding sweets to pet cats.
And he had even met the young lady who was rumoured to be the diamond of the coming season, Lady Margaret Leighton. Lady Margaret was the second daughter of a duke, with a dowry of fifty thousand pounds. Her appearance was flawless; she had blonde ringlets, enormous blue eyes and white skin. She was almost – almost! – as lovely as Miss Jane Bennet.
Upon being presented to her, Mr. Darcy recalled how he had imagined Miss Bennet in a setting such as this one and causing a stir, and he smiled at the recollection. Miss Leighton had taken the smile to be aimed at herself, and she preened, tossing her curls, opening her fan and eyeing him over it. Mr. Darcy’s expression had sobered at once. He invited her to dance, as he knew was expected of him, and he soon learned to regret theinvitation, as her conversation consisted entirely of banal stories about her suitors and how assiduously they courted her.
