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The countess had been everything welcoming. While Elizabeth suspected that the earl had spoken of his disapprobation to Mr. Darcy once she had retired, the older man had been polite enough to her. She was exceedingly grateful to all the Matlocks for their acceptance. She knew it was evidence of their high regard for Mr. Darcy.
“Thursdays are my day at home,” the countess said, consulting a delicate gold watch with pearls circling the face. “I do expect a few ladies to make a visit. Will you sit with me?”
Elizabeth touched the splint on her arm. “I should . . .”
“Remove it.” The countess nodded. “Yes, if you can bear it, I believe that would be wise.”
“I shall return shortly, my lady,” Elizabeth replied, and rose to depart.
“Aunt Matlock will do,” the countess said.
Elizabeth waited for the countess to complete her sentence. “I beg your pardon, my lady,” she asked respectfully. “You will do what?”
The countess laughed, and Elizabeth covered her face with one hand. “Oh.” She peeked out at the countess between her fingers. “And of course, you may call me Elizabeth, if you wish.”
“Where is that vaunted wit of yours, my dear?” the countess asked, amused.
A strangled sort of chuckle escaped and Elizabeth was a little startled by the harshness of the sound. “I do apologize. I flatter myself that I have courage to face most trials, my lady . . .” She paused and shook her head. “Aunt Matlock. However, I have been sorely tested of late. Somehow, finding myself not only betrothed but that my intended is the nephew of an earl, then being invited to marry from the house of said earl . . . it is somewhat overwhelming, I must confess.”
“It may be an earl’s house, Elizabeth,” Aunt Matlock said, “but it is the countess who runs it. Remember that when William takes you to Pemberley.” She again looked at the time. “You have a moment to collect yourself, but hurry back. I have written the ladies, and they are coming expressly to meet you.”
Elizabeth ignored her sudden anxiety and went up to her chamber. She shook her head to think of what Mr. Darcy would say when he saw she had once again removed the splint, but even he would tread carefully around his aunt. Truly, her arm was a good deal better. She did not believe the injury was as severe as it had first appeared. She refreshed herself and asked the maid to do her hair in a slightly more complex style. The dress she wore had long sleeves, so she did not change.
“Your timing is impeccable,” the countess said as Elizabeth reentered the drawing room. “Lady Montagu and Mrs. Egerton are certain to be announced any moment.”
“Is there anything I should know about them, Aunt Matlock?” Elizabeth inquired. If there was one thing she had learned at her mother’s knee, it was to know all she could about visitors before they arrived.
Aunt Matlock closed her fan and tapped her lip with it. “Lady Montagu wears a great many feathers and will need to blow them from her face at least twice during the call. You must not let on that she has done any such thing. She will ask about Darcy. If you tell her you are humbled and flattered by his choice, she will think you sensible and leave you be. If not, she will ask pointed questions until you scream. Do try to refrain, dear.”
Elizabeth supposed she could display herself in such a way. She would tease Mr. Darcy about it later. That would make this a great deal more palatable.
“Mrs. Egerton,” Aunt Matlock continued, “will wish to know if you have been to Gunter’s. She will then quiz you about your favorite flavor of ice. If you tell her you prefer the parmesan, she will feel an instant kinship. If you choose lemon, she will consider you pedestrian.”
“I might be pedestrian,” Elizabeth replied, “but if we are hoping to glean information from her, I suppose I must defer to her tastes.”
“It might be for the best, my dear. But feel free to express yourself in your own witty manner.”
So she was to be herself while pretending to be someone entirely different. She felt a well of sympathy for Mr. Darcy. His own natural humor was buried under such pretense. No wonder he had been so miserable when he arrived in Meryton. Not only had Mr. Wickham betrayed him in a scurrilous fashion, but he could not express his own honest condemnation of the man if he wished to spare his young sister the criticism of the ton. It must be exhausting.
An essential part of being William’s wife would be sharing his burdens, allowing him to set down his mask. William tended to his sister, that much was clear. He took on the burden of raising and protecting Miss Darcy as well as everyone dependent upon Pemberley and Darcy House in London. But who tended to him?
I will. The courage she had been lacking in the countess’s presence traveled up from her toes and stiffened her spine. This was her purpose. She would care for her Mr. Darcy, beginning with this visit in his aunt’s drawing room. She drew in a deep breath, straightened her posture, and lifted her chin.
“Well done, Elizabeth,” Aunt Matlock said approvingly. The countess nodded at her silent butler, who had arrived with two cards on a silver tray. “Lady Montagu and Mrs. Egerton have arrived.”
As the butler exited the room, Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap.
“Are you ready, my dear?”
“I am ready, Aunt Matlock.” Elizabeth said with a nod.
Two ladies were ushered into the room. The first was tall, about Aunt Matlock’s height, though she was also very stout. She wore a lovely velvet hat bedecked with three long, white ostrich feathers. The second woman was not quite as tall, though she was still taller than Elizabeth. Elizabeth thought she must not eat a great deal, for she was very thin. Her light hair tended toward a carroty color. Her hat was plainer, and her smile revealed very yellow teeth.
Elizabeth allowed none of this to show in her expression, merely curtsied when she was introduced and made a few polite remarks to each lady as they all sat down for a chat. Elizabeth allowed the countess to lead the way, and for several minutes, she needed only to listen to the older women chat about people she did not know.
At last, Mrs. Egerton turned to her. “Have you been to Gunter’s, Miss Bennet?” she asked genially.
“Not on this visit, I am afraid,” Elizabeth admitted. “However, my elder sister and I do enjoy it.”
