“I....er....I must have made a mistake...That is, the invitation was to Elizabeth and Darcy, and Charles and I are included out of courtesy....”
“Is that not still five with myself? I do not see the problem. Am I the only one who can count?”
“The fifth is for Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth corrected, deliberately utilizing the older title of address.
“Darcy’s dowdy old bachelor cousin? How can he possibly want to attend a ball? It is not as if he stands a chance of marrying Ariana Talmadge, or anyone else for that matter!”
“Caroline! That is unkind, even for you, and as it is Elizabeth who was invited, you must not insert yourself,” Jane admonished, tears forming in her eyes for the distress she had caused.
Immediately, the callous remarks ceased, as Miss Bingley gave a loose apology, one that Elizabeth knew to be completely false.
“I only meant that with Ariana being the granddaughter of a peer, what chance does a mere soldier have, colonel or not?”
“May I remind you, that Colonel Fitzwilliam is also the son of an earl?”
“A second son, unlike his brother....the Earl,” she sighed momentarily, “ And surely, a man of his caliber would find a debutante ball immensely tedious when the purpose of which is to marry the girl off? Why I would be doing him a favor by taking his place....”
Elizabeth sighed, for she knew that Caroline would make Jane’s life miserable for weeks. While the mistake could be easily corrected, at least Jane had not revealed the fact that the colonel was now the earl, and not his brother. Forcing a smile, she patted Caroline’s hand.
“Not to worry, I suppose I can ask for one more guest to be added. Lady Drummond seemed like a reasonable sort who would understand.”
While the exact opposite was true, Elizabeth suspected that the old woman hardly paid attention to the numbers upon her guest list, only the names. But now mollified, Caroline returned to her gossip, with Ariana Talmadge being the center.
“She is such a sweet child, but I could never imagine wanting to marry at her age. Seventeen! Oh! What an impossible age, it isreally too bad that she never had siblings, only that prune faced cousin and an old lady for company.”
At first, Elizabeth was confused by the insult, but then realized that it was Moira Blackpool to whom Caroline referred. Prune? Perhaps in her choice of color in a gown, but hardly of her face. If anything, the woman was stunning. However, Caroline Bingley, when faced with a potential rival, usually sank to criticism, veiled as charity.
“Do you mean Mrs. Blackpool?” Elizabeth inquired for clarity.
“Who else? I suppose a widow must wear mourning for a time, but it’s been years since she lost her husband. I should think Lady Emma would have made some sort of arrangements for her, away from town. But I suppose Miss Talmadge does require a chaperone and who better than a penniless cousin? Kills two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
“A widow?” Elizabeth repeated, trying not to betray the strange happiness that status had caused. Would Richard consider a widow? A very beautiful widow? With this food for thought, she mentally added another name to her list of potential candidates. Indeed, Caroline Bingley had earned an invitation to the ball.
~Fifteen~
Two days later...
When the day of Lady Drummond’s ball finally arrived, Elizabeth found herself in a fluster. She had hoped to spend several hours in the company of her husband and Lord Matlock, to ensure that every possible concern was addressed. But as fate would have it, a summons from the Queen herself had come, just after breakfast, requesting the presence of Lord Matlock. It seemed, that her majesty had also been made aware of his arrival, and would not be placed second to anyone. Unfortunately, it was not an invitation to be delayed, and it was with less than an hour to dress that both gentlemen arrived home. This left precious little time to prepare, and much to discuss, but beyond invading the man’s bath, Elizabeth had to settle for the carriage ride in which to voice her recommendations.
“Despite technically being in mourning, your mere presence demands that you dance. Make the request in the receiving line as Miss Talmadge’s card will fill quickly and it will not do for her to feel slighted.”
“But she is so young, I would not wish to give any false impressions.”
“Nor shall you, but as the ball is in her honor, and considering your new rank, it must be done. Besides, after having been introduced so recently, the snub would be obvious. But that being said, do not dance with anyone more than once, it will be noticed as favoritism.”
“Is that not the goal? Even Her Majesty suggested that I marry soon....” he began, trying not to recall the terrifyingpresentation. Everything he had ever heard about Queen Charlotte had been true, and more. The lady could lead an army into battle! All he could do was smile, nod and agree with everything she had said, he did not dare otherwise. Afterwards, Darcy had laughed at him, making it all the worse.
“She does that to everyone,” he had said in consolation, but with little effect. And now, he must request a dance with a child, when his thoughts led elsewhere. The mere mention of Ariana Talmadge or Lady Drummond, stirred up memories of another, one who was already taken. But now, Elizabeth smiled knowingly and patted his hand. “Indeed, you must marry, but not today. Do not appear over eager, for this is not some task to be completed and then forgotten, but the choice of a lifetime. And while we are on the subject, I have it on very good authority, that a certain relation of Lady Drummond’s is a widow of several years...”
Hearing this, Matlock’s heart lifted, but it was bittersweet, for he would not wish such sorrow upon anyone, despite the opportunity it presented. Daring to expose himself, he voiced a query, “Do you suppose this particular lady will be present tonight?”
“I am sure of it,” Elizabeth replied, but said no more as the carriage stopped before a brightly lit residence where Charles and Jane Bingley waited to one side of a long queue of arrivals. But of Caroline Bingley, there was no sign. Had some happy event occurred to prevent the irritating woman’s presence? Spitefully, Elizabeth hoped it was the case, but no sooner did the thought arise, than was Caroline spotted, hurrying back to her brother’s side. Sighing, Elizabeth shook her head in dismay, for the woman was an utter spectacle, clad in a garish burnt orange gown and feathered headdress. In truth, she resembledsome sort of strange pumpkin. Suppressing her opinions as she alighted, greetings were exchanged, but as agreed, no mention of Richard’s status was made, but Caroline’s appraisal of the man’s alteration in clothing was noted. Elizabeth imagined the woman toting up the cost of his attire, and wondering where the funds were obtained as she laid a possessive hand upon his sleeve.
“Ah, Colonel Fitzwilliam, how long has it been? I must say, I hardly recognized you without your uniform,” she declared, never pausing in her compliments as he drew his limb from her reach, replying with a curt ‘good evening’ before looking away.
The queue, moving swiftly, was the best distraction, as Elizabeth maneuvered their places, thrusting the Bingley’s first, then herself and Darcy, with Matlock bringing up the rear. It would allow for a bit of distance, should anyone use Richard’s title before he was announced. And as if some divine power was on her side, Lord Matlock managed to greet his hostesses and acquire the third dance with Miss Talmadge without detection. The ballroom, situated beneath an overlook that wrapped the circumference, was more than three-quarters full, a situation that could not be better. Lady Drummond’s butler, announcing each arrival in a booming voice that echoed throughout the chamber, would ensure that heads turned. Descending the stair with one hand upon Darcy’s arm, and the other lifting the hem of her skirt, Elizabeth did not wish to risk a fall, but nor would she miss the look upon Caroline’s countenance. Having reached the bottom, the Bingleys stood to one side, awaiting their company, and allowing Elizabeth a full view of Miss Bingley as the butler declared “Richard Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock” for all to hear.
And as expected, Miss Bingley’s shock was palpable, but equally expected, the woman quickly recovered.
