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Richard had been right about one thing, his mother was the last person the Viscount wanted to involve. He also expected Andrew not to say a word, and even if he did, nothing would come of it.

“I will have to think on that. Enough about me, what about you?”

“Me?”

Neither the Countess nor the Viscount had sufficient self-awareness to recognise the situation. The Colonel was the spare, it was why he was in the Army in the first place. To marry, he would need to find an heiress, one with at least £30,000 in her pocket. Such creatures were rare in the extreme. Yet here was a young widowed Baroness, £50,000 and likely more behind her, and it had been the Viscount who had been told to attend the dinner.

Richard Fitzwilliam had attended a different event, in the company of Darcy. He had watched the man make precious little effort, slowly but surely reverting to the scowling Darcy of old. As he contemplated his brother’s question he came to the conclusion that it was time to transfer out to Hounslow. The Mess there was much smaller, less elegant, but at least he would be able to avoid all this. He was not thinking charitable thoughts about his family, close or extended, at present.

“I will be out of town, training the replacement squadrons at Hounslow. I fear that it will impact my social life.”

They parted but Richard slowly walked back to the barracks. Perhaps it was time to seek another posting. He needed to stop thinking about Lady Napier.

--

“I do not know what it says about me Mr. Lawrence, but I find these sessions to be much easier to deal with than navigating society.”

She saw the sad smile.

“Your late husband said the same thing. I heard him say it as a young man, in the years after the death of his first wife, and then their daughter. I doubt he had much recollection of the 1780s, he drank to excess for years. But it was not just the grief, the sadness, that was the cause. He was only 50 years of age and still seen as very eligible. He found dealing with people, worrying about their motives, to be very tiring. First with my father, and then with me, he would talk about his finances as being easier to deal with, just like you have done.”

It was close to two years since Peter had passed but Elizabeth still thought of him every day. Here was just one more instance where there had been a connection. Her own smile was equally sad. She still missed him.

“Before we delve into your finances my Lady, I have news from Hertfordshire. There is only one sister now remaining at the family home. The oldest of those remaining at home, originally the third, has accepted a place as a governess in Bedfordshire, in the small town of Marston Moretaine.”

Just as time had passed since the death of the Baron, even more time had passed since Elizabeth had seen her sisters. Her most vivid memory of those few terrible days as she was preparing to leave Longbourn forever, was of the moralising Mary standing over her quoting from that blasted book of sermons. She smiled reflexively, remembering her satisfaction at throwing the book out of the window. As far as she was concerned, Miss Mary Bennet could spend the rest of her life boring her charges. She claimed to be a pious young woman, but she had been measured and found wanting. It was the last time she thought of the trenchant bore.

“I see.”

Lawrence knew that familial love was in short supply.

“The second youngest has moved to London. She is the new Miss Gardiner staying with your aunt and uncle. She is being courted by a middling merchant, similar in status as Mr. Gardiner. She will be married by the end of the summer. That just leaves the youngest still with your parents.”

Lawrence waited to see if Lady Napier exhibited any interest in her parents but was not surprised when she had no questions.

“I see. Is there anything else?”

She stopped herself and held up her hand.

“Sorry, tell me of Longbourn. Lydia is five years younger, so will be 18 this summer. What is the news?”

“Stagnation. The word in Meryton is that your father has aged significantly. The last time my man was at the Inn, there were all sorts of nasty comments flying back and forth. The Lucas patriarch, Sir William, has kept his own counsel, at least in public. His wife not so much. Now this is second hand but one of the men overheard her talking to the daughter that still remains at home. The words were to the effect that Thomas Bennet will soon be dead and the older daughter and her husband will take over as the Master and Mistress of Longbourn. Such naked greed has again split opinion.”

“There is so much to say, but yet no point. It will not be comfortable but with only two people, they will be able to be accommodated with the Philips. It will only be three years in the autumn, but it feels as if it happened to someone else. I was right the first time, time to cast them adrift. You can stop the quarterly visits, Elizabeth Bennet died a long time ago.”

Lawrence nodded, he understood that it was time. Just as it was to deal with another loose end.

“With Caroline Bingley’s departure, as well as those of her rookery.”

They both smiled.

“Your uncle’s reputation has started to improve. No one wishes to perpetuate any of the nonsense that blew up in the face of Bingley’s gang. He will not be rehabilitated overnight but the continuing drag on his reputation is gone.”

“Good.”

Elizabeth wished the Gardiners no ill. They took her in when she had nowhere else to go. And how they were in turn treated was a vivid illustration of how powerless most people in society were. And it was not as if Bingley et al had any real power. They finally moved past her former family and concentrated on her wealth.

“I have all the detail here, and will leave it with Miss Underwood so that you can review it at your leisure. Everything is doing well, the estates, the coal mines, the canal, and your investments. It is this last one that has me here today. You have another £10,000 to invest.”