“Well yes, but hardly alone. What I am suggesting is a small house party, in say, ten days’ time? That should be adequate for travel to be arranged, as well as allow you to tend to any regimental duties. Naturally, Miss Talmadge would be invited, her grandmother, regardless of health, would never deny an opportunity to visit Redbyrne. And besides, it would give the suggestion that a proposal may be imminent, or if not, that you at least have a serious interest.”
“Oh, I do, but not in Miss Talmadge,” he agreed, but felt guilty in accepting so much assistance. And then, there was the matter of Aunt Catherine and her unwanted guests. “I do appreciate the offer, but it is too much to ask of you both.”
“Nonsense, I can orchestrate everything in your absence, as well as handle your aunt.”
“But what of the Westlakes?”
“Having them present may be for the best. It will make it perfectly clear that you will never consider Lady Gloriana as an option.”
“But what of your child? And Pemberley?”
“Duncan cares not where he sleeps, provided he is fed and I am near,” Elizabeth insisted.
“And Pemberley is an easy half day’s ride should my presence ever be required, it is truly, not a bother in the least,” Darcy added.
Now, with all in agreement as to what should be done, the Earl of Matlock returned to his chambers to write not one, but two letters to be dispatched immediately. The first, brief, and omitting any details, simply stated that he would return posthaste to Redbyrne, and to expect him by week’s end. The second, and far more personal, was to Moira Blackpool, informing her of the party, so that she might ensure her attendance alongside Ariana Talmadge and Lady Drummond. Elizabeth, meanwhile, had several hours ahead of her, sending nearly a dozen invitations to various members of the ton. Most, were not particular friends or acquaintances, but young men known to be of interest to Miss Talmadge. Of these, Lord Marlborough and his sons were included by name, as was Mrs. Blackpool in the invitation to Lady Drummond. Surely all would accept? If not, perhaps due to some prior obligation, disappointment would be great, but if not? Well, who knew what future happiness could be secured? Either way, it would not be all pleasantries, for Elizabeth knew all too well, that there would be another confrontation with Lady Catherine de Bourgh. That woman was up to something, but what? And could it be stopped?
~Twenty-one~
As expected, only half of the invitations sent were accepted, but as if it were fate, both Marlborough and Drummond households agreed in full. Unfortunately, Jane and Charles Bingley would be absent, having accepted a prior commitment that could not be politely broken. However, it spared Elizabeth the presence of Caroline, and the woman’s desperate attempts to secure a man she once disdained. In total, there would be over twenty guests in all, not including the necessary servants. Only after the responses were received, did Elizabeth ponder if Redbyrne could accommodate them all. It was large enough, to be sure, but she had not ventured much beyond the main reception rooms and her own bedchamber, the nursery notwithstanding. Were there enough linens? Of foodstuffs, it would necessitate ordering extra from the nearest town, but could even the modestly sized Lambton accommodate? Who knew? Thinking she might have to send to Pemberley for necessary items, she sought out her husband, who was in full agreement.
“Indeed, whatever is required will be at your disposal. Remember, dearest? You are the mistress of Pemberley now.”
“I know, but it might be considerable. I just want everything to go as well as possible, for it will be Richard’s first party as the Earl of Matlock. If it is a failure, all of London will know.”
“I doubt he cares about anyone’s opinion but that of Mrs. Blackpool.”
As it was, they would depart early the following morning, as to allow as much time as possible to prepare. But travelling with a small child and a contingent of servants would make the journey slow. Part of her wished that Moira Blackpool was traveling with them, for her son was also welcome, despite not beingformally included as a guest. As he would be a major part of any marriage, the more he was present, the better. Of that reality, she knew Richard’s affection for children and would enjoy the boy’s company, but in the end, it would be at Lady Drummond’s discretion, a permission that was unlikely to be given. As yet, Elizabeth had never been parted from her child, and wondered how she would feel should the necessity ever arise. Francis Blackpool was four years old, aware enough to know loss beyond the routine of food and sleep, and the reasons why. Frowning, she tried to think of a way to insist upon the boy’s inclusion, but was at a loss without revealing private matters. In the end, it was Miss Talmadge who once again, managed to secure the happiness of her chaperone. During tea that final afternoon in town, the young heiress was unexpectedly announced. Alone, and politely refusing all offers of refreshment, she bid a word with Elizabeth.
“I may be breaking what was meant to be a secret, but I believe you are already aware of the affection between Lord Matlock and Mrs. Blackpool?”
Standing in the empty hall, she had dismissed the footman to ensure privacy, but Elizabeth merely nodded, and did not elaborate, waiting for the girl to reveal her purpose. Smiling in return, Ariana Talmadge continued, “From what I have learnt of you, Mrs. Darcy, it is that you are a devoted mother, and being so, would think it a shame if Moira had to leave her son behind whilst we were in Derbyshire.”
“Indeed. Children are welcome, including Mrs. Blackpool’s son, but I doubt Lady Drummond would agree.”
“I shall handle grandmother, but it may require the telling of a few lies. I just wanted you to be prepared for such, should the need arise.”
To this, Elizabeth snorted in laughter, but agreed to be complicit in whatever actions were necessary. “Just so long as it does not require the harm of anyone involved,” she insisted, receiving a grimace of surprise from her accomplice. As a young lady, long before marriage was even a consideration, Elizabeth’s own sister had placed a large amount of wormwood in their mother’s tea. The herb, manifesting in violent abdominal cramping, had the desired effect of keeping Mrs. Bennet in her chamber, but not without cost. First, to the doctor, and then, to her family, who had been forced to assist in cleaning up numerous ‘accidents’ involving bodily fluids. It was a memory that would forever be burned into her mind, and a warning to not tamper with the health of others, regardless of personal desires. To this, Ariana Talmadge agreed, immediately discarding her former plans in favor of something more agreeable.
“I believe dear Francis’ nanny will shortly be called away, some manner of family emergency...how does that sound?”
“Believable, but it is not me who you must convince, it is Lady Drummond.”
After the young woman departed, Elizabeth discussed the encounter with her husband, who laughed in agreement. “I am of the opinion that Ariana Talmadge would have given any of your sisters a run for their money when it comes to creating escapades.”
It was a truth that Elizabeth could not deny, but as to whether Darcy had meant it in jest or insult, she did not know. Instead, she merely swatted his arm, and went back to planning what would hopefully, become a most memorable event.
~Twenty-two~
Ten days later....
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam rode home with a mind as weary as his body, for what he had hoped to be merely a visit to his regiment, had turned out to be something far more worrisome. Not only had the meeting with his superior taken longer than expected, the conversation threatened to upset every future plan.
“Bad news, dear boy,” General Higgenthorpe had declared, after offering the Earl of Matlock a snifter of fine brandy. Although less than five years separated the two, the difference in rank had a way of creating a father-son relationship. Had this not been so, they might have been friends, but the constant threat of war, and the unfortunate results thereof, made this impossible. Sipping his glass with anticipation, Fitzwilliam tried to appear without a care, as if troubles could not reach him. But in truth, it was a lie, one that he could ill afford.
“Is it the Americans again?” he dared, knowing the answer to be false.
“Not this time, Germany I am afraid, but it may amount to nothing. However, I would not have it said that you were kept in the dark if it comes to taking action.”
