Elizabeth was accustomed to a good deal of exercise, but Mary was not; and after several hours of shopping, the poor girl looked like she was about to faint. Elizabeth was exhausted as well; in truth, there had been precious little actual walking and a good deal of standing about and being measured, so she finally called a halt, for Mary’s sake, if not her own. “Aunt Ellen, I cannot take another step!”
The Countess, inured to the hardships of shopping, looked at her new niece in surprise. “Really? Are you tired already?”
“Already?! It has been five hours! Might we not have a brief intermission?”
Afraid of losing a sale, the woman who had been waiting on them immediately said, “Oh, ladies, there is seating in the back! I will have tea and sandwiches sent for at once!”
She led the way past a velvet curtain, and Mary and Elizabeth were delighted to see a small round table with four chairs. They sank down, gratefully, as the Countess gave a bit of a huff and then sat down herself.
“I cannot imagine where you get your energy, Aunt Ellen,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “I can easily walk three or four miles, but this! This is far more exhausting than a simple walk!”
“One becomes accustomed,” the Countess informed her, tossing her head. “But I admit, it has been a tiring day.”
Mary had been too afraid of the Countess to utter a word of complaint, but now she had to chuckle. “Tiring? I have never been so weary in all my life!”
“You surprise me, Miss Mary,” the Countess replied. “I thought country girls were hardy folk.”
“Some are,” Mary said. “I have always been more of an indoor girl, I suppose.”
“Mary is the most accomplished of the Bennet girls,” Elizabeth said, quickly. “She plays the pianoforte as well as Georgiana, sews beautiful embroidery as well as plain clothes for tenants, and manages the stillroom at home.”
The Countess nodded. “These are important skills, no doubt. But if one is to spend any time in the Season, shopping is essential!”
“And we are both very grateful that we have you to guide us,” Elizabeth put in. “Truly, I cannot imagine having to do this on my own. I had no idea that I would need – well, so very much of everything! Day gowns, walking dresses, dinner gowns, gowns for the theater, ball gowns, cloaks, slippers, half boots, petticoats, bonnets, cloaks, pelisses – heavens! If our mother could see us now, Mary, what would she say?”
“She would memorise every single thing so that she could tell Lady Lucas all about it!” Mary replied at once, laughing.
The Countess asked who Lady Lucas might be, and the trio spent a merry half an hour discussing the complicated friendship that had arisen over the years between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas.
The Countess finally raised a brow and said, “Ready?”
Elizabeth and Mary took deep breaths, rose from their seats, and announced, “Ready!” And they were off again.
***
By the time the Countess brought Elizabeth and Mary back to Darcy House, they were grey with fatigue. Mr. Darcy, concerned that they had been absent for so long, met them at the front door. He saw their faces and frowned at his aunt. “Was it truly necessary to exhaust them, Aunt Ellen?” he asked.
“It was,” she replied, shrugging. “They need complete wardrobes, particularly Elizabeth, and we have no time to waste.”
“We will be fine, William,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps a bath? And dinner?”
Mr. Darcy shook his head at his aunt, and then escorted both girls into the house.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Darcy House
Packages began arriving the very next day. Anna was kept busy unpacking boxes, determining what was whose, and putting things away. She also experimented with Elizabeth’s and Mary’s hair, saying that she needed to understand what styles would best suit each of the young ladies.
“You need jewelry,” she informed Elizabeth. Elizabeth gestured to the amber cross she always wore, and Anna shook her head, firmly. “Speak with Mr. Darcy,” she said.
Elizabeth could not imagine asking her husband to give her jewelry, so it was with some trepidation that she approached him on the subject.
“Of course,” he said. “Come with me.”
In his study, Mr. Darcy unlocked a secret drawer, showing Elizabeth how to get into it, and withdrew a large velvet pouch. “This is yours,” he said, giving it to her. She opened it and gasped. She looked back up at Mr. Darcy. “Should not some of this go to Georgiana?”
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “She has already been given the jewelry that is appropriate for her age; there is more of our mother’s that will go to her when she is married. But everything in that pouch, by right, belongs to Mrs. Darcy.”
