Page 110 of Regrets

Anne confided her thoughts about the proposed ball. “I think Mother is husband-hunting for me, and this ball is a practice for my come-out in London.”

“You are of an age to marry,” Georgiana said. “Does the idea displease you?”

“No. I mean, I know I have to marry.”

“You do not, though, you know,” was Georgiana’s unexpected response.

“I suppose not. Of course, I could live at Rosings on my own. But why would I want to, Georgiana? I long for a loving husband and children, and all the things that all young ladies wish for!”

Georgiana repressed her shudder. “Are you afraid of the ball, then?”

“I suppose I am! All that attention focused on me! Though I have had a dancing instructor, and he says I am quite good. So I am unlikely to end up on the floor.”

“I never imagined you ending up on the floor,” Georgiana vowed, loyally. “And let us hope that you meet someone suitable.”

“Suitable for me? Or for Mother?” Anne quipped.

“Suitable for both,” Georgiana said, laughing.

***

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth went to Matlock House again, and were delighted to see Lady Catherine and Anne in residence. Elizabeth feared that Lady Catherine might bear her some ill will, as she had been made to understand that her ladyship had intended her own daughter for Mr. Darcy, but such was not the case. Lady Catherine seemed glad to meet the new Mrs. Darcy, and insisted on sitting beside her for some time, in order to learn more about her new niece, and insisting upon being called Aunt Catherine.

Anne and Georgiana sat together, quite obviously glad to be in one another’s company once again, while Mrs. Jenkinson sat in a corner, watching everyone.

Upon learning that Lady Catherine and Georgiana were in Town to purchase ballgowns, Elizabeth at once proposed accompanying them. “I think my new husband might wish a respite from my company and instead enjoy an afternoon at his club,” she said, laughing.

He vowed that he would never, ever, tire of her company, but she prevailed, and soon enough, all six ladies climbed into Lady Eleanor’s spacious carriage, with Bond Street as their destination.

Thanks to Lady Eleanor’s patronage, Madame Blanchet was glad to help them. Anne, Lady Catherine and Mrs. Jenkinson were measured, fabrics were fingered, silhouettes and drawings admired, and decisions made.

“Elizabeth,” Lady Eleanor said, turning to her new niece. “You will need a good deal of new clothing; I do hope you understand that.”

“I do, of course, Lady – Aunt Eleanor,” she corrected herself quickly. “But we will not come back to Town until next Season, and by then the fashions will have changed.”

“That is true,” the Countess said. “But you must know that there are a good many local events to attend in Derbyshire, and you will be expected to be appropriately attired. In addition, it is a good deal colder in Derbyshire than what you are accustomed to.”

“Oh! She is right!” Georgiana exclaimed at once. “We get a good deal of snow, sometimes for days on end! Lizzy, you must have warm outerwear. Perhaps a wool redingote?”

“With matching gloves,” the Countess added. “Yes, certainly. Elizabeth, do let Madame take your measurements. I assure you that Darcy will have no objections whatsoever.”

Elizabeth, who had cast a longing eye upon certain fabrics as soon as they had entered, required no more persuading, and Madame Blanchet was delighted to have acquired the new Mrs. Darcy as a customer. Madame Blanchet promised to have the gowns for Lady Catherine, Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson sent to Rosings Park within a fortnight; Elizabeth’s clothing would be sent to Pemberley.

It was soon determined that the ball-goers required dancing slippers and Elizabeth would need warm boots, so off the entire party went to the cobbler up the street.

The shopping expedition ended with a trip to Gunter’s, where everyone selected their favourite flavours of ice and then offered their selection to the others to sample.

Elizabeth observed Georgiana carefully throughout the day. She seemed almost her old self, but Elizabeth thought she could detect a certain brittleness in her manner. It was nothing she could quite pinpoint and certainly nothing she could articulate; it was more a feeling than anything else. So when Mr. Darcy quizzed her later, she could only say that Georgiana seemed quite well.

Chapter Ninety-Nine

When Mr. Rochester returned home, his boots were muddy and his coat wet. Mary rushed to him. “Robby! What on earth?”

“A carriage overturned on the road nearest the entrance to the Lodge, and we were called upon to assist.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No, just shaken up a good deal.”