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“Possibly,” admitted Richard. “Although she’s hit me with her fan a couple of times when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Quod Erat Demonstrandum,” murmured Darcy.

When the carriage was heard outside, Richard wheeled Darcy into the saloon. The party sat down to a very tolerable lunch of smoked salmon with salads and fruits, accompanied by pea soup. Sometime after Richard and Hildie excused themselves, Farley reminded the master that he should take his rest. Elizabeth followed the servants as they carried Darcy upstairs, leaving Georgie and Jane in the saloon to amuse each other as they might.

Darcy was relieved that Elizabeth had accompanied him so readily. He had been worrying about his conduct on his wedding day. In his haste to check his aunt, he had paid scant attention to his wife’s sensibilities. Reviewing the incident, he could only imagine Elizabeth’s shocked expression when he tore off his shirt. He had behaved as if he was in the presence of Almeria or a lightskirt. How could he have been so inconsiderate as to not anticipate his wife’s maidenly indignation? Alas, he knew he could no longer rely on his sight to guide his actions and must cultivate his other senses. Save for the few bunches of flowers, he had not courted Elizabeth at all, nor had there been any opportunity to apologise to her on Sunday for his conduct. In the grand scheme of things, he believed his inability to immediately consummate his hasty marriage might be for the best. It would allow him to woo her more gently.

When Darcy admitted he was tired, having started his day with a session on his walking machine before spending several hours in his study with Mr Trevor, Elizabeth offered to read to him while he nodded off. This he would not allow, and he drew her onto the bed with him where, embraced against his warm chest and lulled by his breathing, they soon drifted off to sleep together.

Poking his head into the room half an hour later, Finn smiled to see the couple asleep together on the counterpane and gently drew a blanket up over their waists before tiptoeing off.

Elizabeth woke sometime later, thinking it was the morning and she in her bed in Cheapside, immersed in her improper dream. When her world reoriented itself, she realised she was in Darcy’s bedchamber being kissed on the back of her neck. Her husband had woken before her, and finding her so conveniently disposed beside him, had given in to temptation. She lay very still, enjoying his gentle kisses and the strangely exciting feeling of his breath on her nape.

At length she yawned loudly and turned over. Darcy, realising he had not exactly kept to his good intentions of gently courting his wife, blushed vividly.

“I beg your pardon, Elizabeth. I should not have taken any liberties while you were asleep.”

Elizabeth smiled and caressed his ear. “Perhaps it is I who should apologise. I woke this morning having an improper dream of you, and on waking just now thought I was reading the second chapter.”

A guileless grin spread over Darcy’s face. “An improper dream? Tell me!”

“Oh, no! I do not think I am quite ready to do that!” replied Lizzy, touching the tip of his nose with her forefinger. “But I will not object if you wish to kiss me again!”

When Mrs Flowers walked in fifteen minutes later with the master’s afternoon tea, she was embarrassed to find the pair of them locked in a passionate embrace. It is very difficult to back out of a room with a fully laden tea tray, but the housekeeper managed it. She was depositing the tea on a hall table when Finn poked his head out of the dressing room.

“Mr Finn, we must have new hangings made for the master’s bed.”

Quickly inferring what had likely occurred, Mr Finn apologised: “I beg your pardon, Mrs Flowers. I was polishing the master’s boots and was not immediately able to get up when I heard you come up the stairs.”

Mrs Flowers pursed her lips. “Since you are so niffy naffy about the master’s bedchamber I presume you wish to order the hangings yourself?”

“Indeed, Mrs Flowers. It is already done,” said Finn, glad he had been able to repay the favour to his tailor’s brother-in-law for the props for his Hertfordshire imposture so soon. “They should be here in three weeks.”

“Three weeks?”

“The fabric is to come from Venice.”

Mrs Flowers turned her head so that she might politely roll her eyes without offending Mr Finn and headed down the stairs. “Kindly take care of that tea tray, Mr Finn,” she called over her shoulder.

“Certainly, Mrs Flowers.”

“And in the meantime,” she said, pausing on the landing, “please place a cravat or some other object on the door handle to indicate when the master is indisposed.”

Before the Bennet sisters returned to Cheapside, Georgie begged them to come with her and Princess Brunhilda to the opera on Wednesday as her guests. Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte was playing. Lizzy tried to demur, knowing that Darcy was unlikely to have the stamina to accompany them. But she was not proof against Jane’s pleading looks or to Georgie’s explanation that it was their last chance to go out with Hildie before she was married on Thursday. After obtaining her new sister’s agreement, Georgie then suggested both Bennet sisters stay overnight as her guests to save them the trip back to Cheapside afterward. They could then attend the wedding with her on the following morning. Lizzy suspected Georgie of collusion with her brother, but Miss Darcy steadfastly concentrated on pouring Jane another cup of tea and would not meet her eye.

Thus, Lizzy found herself at the opera on Wednesday, helping Princess Brunhilda celebrate her last night as a free woman. As Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had accompanied them, spent a good part of the evening squeezing and stroking Hildie’s hand when he thought no one was looking, Lizzy judged Hildie to be perfectly complaisant in surrendering her freedom.

Lizzy, Jane and Georgie had all dressed at the Darcy townhouse before piling into the carriage where they occupied the forward-facing seat. They stopped briefly at Matlock House where Hildie and the colonel joined them for the short journey to the King’s Theatre in Haymarket.

Lizzy felt strangely nervous as they were helped to alight by the footmen. She had never been to the opera before with the Gardiners, only to the theatre, which was less expensive. The clothing of the other patrons was excessively fine, but accompanying Georgie and Brunhilda up the red carpet into the vestibule, Elizabeth felt their party acquitted themselves well. Georgie had loaned her a fox fur. Jane was wearing a pretty wool-lined silk cloak belonging to their aunt along with her pearls. After surrendering their outerwear to the attendant, Lizzy noted with satisfaction how well Jane looked in her new powder blue silk gown with her golden hair arranged by Georgie’s maid. Georgie and Hildie were attired in gowns of the first stare. When they were ushered upstairs, Lizzy realised that they would occupy a box. At the theatre she had only ever sat in the stalls, casting the occasional envious glance at those who could afford boxes. It was then that she truly appreciated for the first time how much her status in life had suddenly changed.

The spectacle of the opera had initially enthralled her. Although her German was passable enough to follow the speeches, Lizzy would have been hard-pressed to understand the songs if Georgie had not purchased the libretto. When the curtain was raised, Lizzy was surprised to see that although the stalls were full, several of the boxes remained empty. But partway through the first act, the door to a box directly opposite opened and the Bingleys arrived, accompanied by two other ladies. Looking quickly at Jane, Lizzy saw with relief that her sister was so beguiled by the actors on the stage that she had not noticed the movement in the opposite box. It was not a situation that Lizzy could hope would continue.

Glancing back at the Bingleys’ box several minutes later, Lizzy saw that Mr Bingley had spotted her. She gave him a polite nod of her head, which he returned. When Mr Bingley suddenly flinched and grimaced, immediately turning to speak to Caroline with a frown on his face, Lizzy was in little doubt that Miss Bingley had pinched her brother for bestowing his attention on them. Rather than acknowledge Charles’ rebuke, Miss Bingley laughed behind her fan, tilting her head towards her friend, a young girl wearing an expensive parure who looked like she was just out. Caroline steadfastly refused to look in their direction although Lizzy was fairly sure that Mr Bingley had remarked on their presence to his sister. Mr Bingley then proceeded to stare fixedly at their box. Lizzy was certain his eyes were solely for Jane. She found she could no longer devote all her attention to the stage, waiting with dread for her sister to notice Mr Bingley and wondering how Jane would react. She wished they had sat at the back of the box where they were less visible. But the colonel had insisted the Bennets and Georgie take the best seats, perhaps not entirely selflessly—Lizzy heard Hildie occasionally stifle a giggle that was unconnected with anything occurring on the stage.

It was not until the curtain went down on the first act and the opera dancers came on stage that Jane finally noticed Mr Bingley staring at her across the chasm of the theatre pit. Lizzy saw Jane pale and then recover herself to raise her hand in a polite wave. But it was the young girl who waved back. Lizzy suddenly realised her likely identity.

“Is that Cherise Garth?” asked Lizzy.