“My dear,” Mr Gardiner said mildly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Might I remind you that we employ no less than six maids? Also, I believe the man is coming to court our niece, not to conduct an inspection. If he cannot survive a crooked candlestick, he is unfit for the rigours of marriage.”
Jane, who was seated on the sofa, smiled at her uncle. “He is quite robust, Uncle. Lizzy tells me he survived a bumblebee attack just recently.”
“A bumblebee?” Mr Gardiner repeated, turning to Elizabeth for confirmation.
“It was a very tense negotiation.” Elizabeth’s lips twitched at the memory of Mr Darcy going cross-eyed in the grove.
Before Mr Gardiner could inquire further about the insect, the doors burst open. Henry, Alice, and little Ruth tumbled into the room.
“Papa!” Henry skidded to a halt on the rug. “Is he here? Cook says we are expecting a prince! Is the Prince Regent bringing a sword?”
“No, Henry,” Elizabeth laughed, leaning in to straighten the boy’s collar. “He is not the Prince Regent; he is just a gentleman.”
“Does he have a horse?” Alice asked, her eyes wide.
“He has many horses,” Elizabeth promised.
“If he has no sword, I do not care,” Ruth announced plainly, clutching her wooden soldier.
“Ruth, my darling, you must care.” Aunt Madeline swooped in, ushering the children back to the door where their governess was hovering. “You must all be on your best behaviour. No shouting, no running, and no throwing wooden soldiers at the peerage.”
Just as the governess corralled the disappointed, swordless children into the corridor, the knocker on the front door sounded.
Aunt Madeline assumed the posture of a general receiving a foreign dignitary, Mr Gardiner folded his paper and stood up, while Jane smoothed her skirts.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor—a great many footsteps. It sounded less like a morning call and more like the arrival of an infantry battalion.
The drawing room door opened, and the Gardiner footman, slightly pale and overwhelmed by the sheer volume of consequence he was about to announce, cleared his throat.
“Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy,” the footman proclaimed. “Viscount Keathley. Colonel Fitzwilliam. Miss de Bourgh, and Miss Darcy.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She had expected Mr Darcy, and perhaps his cousins. She had not expected an invasion of this magnitude.
Mr Darcy stepped over the threshold, his tall, imposing frame commanding the room. He was dressed in a dark blue coat that fit his broad shoulders with scandalous perfection, his cravat tied flawlessly.
As his eyes found Elizabeth, the severe lines of his face melted away.
Behind him filed the rest of the clan. Viscount Keathley sauntered in, impossibly elegant in charcoal grey. Colonel Fitzwilliam bounded in with a grin, his red regimentals adding a splash of brilliant colour to the room. Anne de Bourgh, unencumbered by a single shawl, glided in.
And finally, half-hiding behind Darcy’s broad back, was a tall, pretty, but visibly trembling girl of about sixteen.
“Mr and Mrs Gardiner,” Mr Darcy began, his rich baritone filling the room. He executed a flawless bow, devoid of the haughty stiffness he had displayed in Hertfordshire. “Allow me to introduce myself, and to offer my apologies for the scale of our intrusion. I fear my family lacks the ability to travel in numbers smaller than a regiment.”
“You are most welcome, Mr Darcy,” Aunt Madeline replied, executing a perfect curtsy.
Darcy proceeded with the introductions, presenting his cousins to the Gardiners and Jane. Then, he turned slightly, bringing the timid girl forward.
“And this,” Darcy said, his voice softening with affection, “is my sister, Georgiana.”
Georgiana Darcy’s blue eyes were wide with panic. She managed a shaky curtsy, looking as though she expected to be interrogated on her Latin conjugations at any moment.
Elizabeth did not hesitate, the protective instinct that made her an excellent older sister flaring instantly. She stepped forward, closing the distance, and offered Miss Darcy a smile.
“Miss Darcy.” Elizabeth extended her hands to take the young girl’s trembling ones. “I am so delighted to finally meet you. Your brother has spoken of you often, and I must confess, I am relieved to see you.”
Miss Darcy blinked in surprise. “Relieved, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth whispered conspiratorially, her eyes dancing. “Because with the number of Fitzwilliams in this room, I was beginning to fear I would be outnumbered. I require an ally to help me navigate them.”
