Elizabeth prepared herself for an interminable wait since the line was long, but she, as Georgiana had before, consoled herself with the knowledge that it was, fortunately, an ordeal that need only occur once. Lady Whitwell stood with her and they occasionally exchanged remarks, but mostly they waited in silence, for the room was too noisy with the nervous chattering of the debutantes being presented to make conversation easy.
After they had been waiting a good while and the din had quieted somewhat, Lady Whitwell turned to Elizabeth and said in a low voice, “While we have the opportunity of being relatively unremarked, I must thank you for all you have done for Georgiana.” Elizabeth blushed and started to shake her head, but her sponsor continued, “Do not try to modestly deny it, my dear. I have seen a most remarkable change in Georgiana’s poise and maturity since you and Darcy married. Although he and Edward have done their best as her guardians, two men more than ten years older than she is are much better suited to manage her financial affairs than they are to manage her development into a graceful young woman.
“Unfortunately for Georgiana, although her brother loves her dearly, she has had no female relatives, until now, to help guide her and provide a model from which she could learn. I have several times regretted that I could not spend more time with her, but having only sons I am not sure that I would have been able to do nearly as well as you. I confess that a year ago I was doubtful whether she would be able to face presentation and the Season. She has always been an intelligent and courteous child, prevented only by the excessive shyness she developed a few years ago from shining in the company of others. But she has now blossomed into a confident woman, and I thank you.”
She patted Elizabeth’s hand as she said these last words. Elizabeth glanced up at her and said diffidently, “If I have been in any small way able to help Georgiana in the last few months, she has amply repaid my efforts with her kindness and affection. I am delighted to claim her as a sister, and I do not look forwards to her marrying and leaving home with any anticipation. I will miss her dreadfully.”
Their further conversation was interrupted as the line moved forwards, and they arrived at the front more quickly than Elizabeth had expected. Lady Whitwell gave Elizabeth’s card to the lord chamberlain, and in a few too-brief moments he opened the chamber doors for her and bowed her in. One of the lords-in-waiting spread her train out behind her and she approached the throne.
The Prince Regent, when her name was read, sat up a bit straighter and observed her closely as she walked sedately up to the throne and curtseyed deeply to Queen Charlotte and then to the prince. The Prince Regent nodded in his turn and, after the lord-in-waiting draped her train back over her arm, she backed out of the room, unable to keep her amusement at the false solemnity of the ritual from showing in her eyes above her studiously serious mien. She thought for a moment that she saw a small answering smile play over the Prince Regent’s face, but it was gone in an instant and she was sure that she must have been mistaken.
When she had managed to back out of the room without mishap, she looked at Lady Whitwell and gave a small sigh of relief. Her sponsor’s eyes crinkled in amusement as she led her to a bench in the anteroom where they could relax and wait for Jane to finish her presentation.
Eventually the ordeal was over and, after thanking Lady Southaven for her sponsorship of Jane, they returned to their carriage—not forgetting to turn sideways at the carriage door to get their hooped skirts inside.
At Ashbourne House Darcy, Georgiana, Kitty, and Bingley were all waiting in some anxiety. Georgiana had just begun to pour tea when they heard the carriage arrive, and they jumped up to congratulate Elizabeth and Jane on their presumed success.
Georgiana, after they had all given their congratulations, put on a solemn face and said, “I am so proud that you have both succeeded in this most important milestone in your life.”
This provoked all the laughter she was seeking, and Elizabeth and Jane entered the house with lighter hearts than when they had departed in the morning. After the footman had taken their wraps and Burton had congratulated them, they were more than ready for tea, but first they wanted to change out of their court dresses and into their ordinary gowns for, as Elizabeth pointed out, “If we sit down in these gowns, there will be no place for anyone else to be seated. Whoever created this style must have had investments in the furniture industry and planned to make a vast fortune enlarging all of the furniture in the country so that more than one lady could fit on the settee.”
Bingley choked on the tea he had just sipped and, while Darcy was pounding on his back, she and Jane swept grandly upstairs to change.
The rest of the day passed in a much more restful fashion than had the morning and they dined at the Bingleys’ house that evening. They had not accepted any invitations for later in the evening; they would need an early night tonight, for tomorrow was Lady Whitwell’s ball.
Chapter 22
What, my dear Lady Disdain!
—William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
They had no special plans during the next afternoon and spent it relaxing. Georgiana went to the music room and worked on her new Beethoven sonata, which she had not had a great deal of time to practise. After she had worn herself out with the new piece, she played another piece at double speed and then stopped, a little breathless. Elizabeth, who was sitting with her and doing some desultory work on her embroidery, smiled at her choice of composers.
“Feeling in a Beethoven mood again are you, Georgiana?” she queried.
“Yes, Mozart or Handel would simply not express my feelings properly, although perhaps the ‘Rondo Alla Turca’ would be quite good,” she said, with an abashed smile.
“You are fortunate to have a pianoforte on which to express yourself; the harp would probably not be sufficiently emphatic, but on the pianoforte you can pound without fear of alarming the servants.”
They both laughed, and Georgiana took out “Le Coucou” and played it molto vivace before covering the keys and taking up her needlepoint.
The day dragged slowly by until Lord St. George visited in the early afternoon. Georgiana acknowledged his bow politely when he entered and then rang for tea. She sat down next to Elizabeth in a chair facing St. George and he settled on the sofa, where she had been sitting before his entrance. He began the conversation by discussing his mother’s ball that night and by again engaging Georgiana for the first pair of dances.
“Although,” he said with a charming smile, “I don’t suppose my mamma will give either of us much choice in the matter, since she will expect us to open the ball.” He smiled at her winningly and continued, “Still, I would like for it to be a matter of choice rather than merely a duty.”
Georgiana smiled slightly and nodded her acceptance of the engagement then turned the conversation to the happenings around town, about which he knew a great deal, and he was happily occupied with retailing various bits of gossip until the door of the drawing-room opened and Darcy appeared with Colonel Fitzwilliam, both looking pensive. They exerted themselves to put off their dour moods, greet the ladies and Lord St. George and join them for tea. St. George finished the story he had started before their appearance and then gracefully made his excuses and departed.
“What did my esteemed brother want today, Georgiana?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, looking at the door where his brother had just disappeared.
“He wanted to engage me for the first two dances tonight, although he pointed out that my aunt would force us to open the ball anyway, so I did not seem to have much choice in the matter,” she said with a spark in her eye.
“I very much doubt whether he worded his request in quite that fashion,” the colonel said, turning to her with an amused smile, “since, for all his faults, his manners in public are generally acceptable, if supercilious.”
She smiled impudently and acknowledged the truth of his statement, and the
y finished their tea companionably.
When the colonel made his adieux Darcy saw him out, and by the time he returned to the drawing-room Georgiana had gone upstairs. He sat down next to Elizabeth and asked her how she was feeling.
“I am well. However, I feel like a spring is wound up tight inside me, waiting to explode. I cannot but be influenced by Georgiana’s tension, although she covers it very well. Perhaps too well. She has been far too polite and genteel throughout the Season. I sometimes think that if she would scream and cry and get it over with, as some of my younger sisters would do, it would be like a storm passing, leaving fresh air in its wake—however, that is not the Darcy way.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. “So she has had to resort to Beethoven, which I believe has been somewhat efficacious.”
“Yes, I could hear her battle with the pianoforte from my library this morning. Perhaps we should contact Herr Beethoven and commission a work: ‘For the Reduction of Tension in Young Ladies during Their First Season’—but possibly we could find a more romantic title.”
“Perhaps.” She paused and then ventured, “Is there something worrying you, my love? You and the colonel both looked fairly grim when you came in to tea.”
“We were just discussing some business concerning his work upon which the colonel wanted my private opinion. Nothing of importance to the rest of the family.”
“I see.” Elizabeth kissed him and tugged on the hair tumbling over his brow then went upstairs to rest until she needed to dress for the ball—while attempting to reassure herself that all would be well with Georgiana.
***
While Elizabeth was resting, Darcy went back to his library and picked up his book again, his thoughts reverting to the news which the colonel had brought him today. It was little enough, but had a few points of interest. Horace Blackman was now willing to give up his fellow smugglers if the government would not charge him with treason as well as smuggling, thus eliminating his risk of being hanged for his crimes, and Lord Liverpool was impatient to buy his information. As proof of his good faith he had revealed that one of his partners was a “society gent” who seemed to know his way around the gambling hells of London. Darcy wondered if any of his own acquaintance were either desperate enough or stupid enough to turn traitor. There were any number of young gentlemen of the ton who might consider such a venture a lark and not think of the implications of smuggling guns to their country’s enemies, or else they might assume that their family connections could rescue them from any consequences of their dangerously foolish behaviour.
It could even be someone in the prince’s circle; Darcy knew that this was what concerned Colonel Fitzwilliam. A society buck who felt slighted in some way, or who simply had no morals, and became involved with a group of men who wished to enhance their arms business by assassinating the Prince Regent could pose a serious danger to both the prince and to Darcy’s cousin Fitzwilliam. Darcy pulled himself up. It did not do to allow his imagination free rein. With any luck, Blackman would reveal his accomplices very soon, and it was likely that his associates had abandoned their assassination scheme, if it existed, after Blackman’s arrest.
He shut his unheeded book and replaced it on the shelf before he went upstairs to change into his evening clothes.
***
Elizabeth and Lambert went through the same routine they had used before the Elliots’ ball; with the older maid taking charge of Georgiana’s hair while Durand watched attentively and assisted with the details.
Since Georgiana had worn her sea-green gown to the earlier ball, Elizabeth had helped her select material for another to wear to her aunt’s ball. It was a magnificent monochrome creation of translucent gold tissue and lace with a white lining, low cut in the bodice and with puffed sleeves that ended just above her long, satiny white gloves. It would make a perfect frame for Lady Anne’s diamonds, which she wore again around her neck and on her ears, with a diamond brooch to embellish her hair. After Georgiana was ready, Elizabeth hurriedly dressed in her wedding gown and her sapphires, which were among the jewels which had been refashioned, and they were both ready by the time the carriage pulled up to the door.
They arrived at Longford House a half hour before the ball was to start so they could take their places in the reception line when the guests began arriving. Lady Whitwell informed them that she had sent a routine invitation to the Prince Regent for the ball and had been surprised when she received an acknowledgement informing her that His Majesty would pay a call during the ball.
“His Majesty will give our ball significant cachet, but we must now delegate one of the servants to watch for his carriage so we can greet him properly.” She added dryly, “I cannot imagine that our little ball would hold much interest for His Majesty, so most likely he will stay only a few minutes.” Turning to her niece, she added, “Georgiana, my dear, you look lovely. It will be a long night for you, so let us go into the library; a very small glass of wine will fortify you for the tasks ahead of you.”
After a few minutes, Lord St. George appeared from upstairs and joined Georgiana where she sat next to the decanter sipping her wine while the rest talked in the hall about the arrangements for the ball and Lady Whitwell instructed them in their roles.
“My dear cousin Georgiana,” St. George said suavely, “I am happy to be able to spend a few minutes alone with you. I have wanted to talk to you for some time.”
“Really?” she asked acerbically, her brows lifted.
He did not appear to notice her repressive tone and continued with an affectionate smile, “Yes, my dear. I have been quite overcome since seeing you again after our long separation. You are a beautiful woman, Georgiana, and I am deeply in love with you. I hope that you will consent to be my wife.”
He looked at her longingly and awaited her answer.
“I am sorry, Cousin, but I cannot,” she said quietly.
He started and stared at her. “What?”
He made a motion with his hand as if he wished to recall his exclamation.
“I said that I will not marry you,” she enunciated slowly.
“And why not, may I ask?” he said, his voice rising.
“I do not think that we are compatible, Cousin,” she said, looking at him steadily.
“What are you waiting for, a duke?” he said with a curl of his lip. “I cannot imagine why else you would reject my suit.”
“No, I do not imagine that you can, and that is part of the problem with your proposal,” she said coldly.
“Well I hope you are not waiting for a duke to ask you, because, my dear cousin, you are neither rich enough nor beautiful enough to capture one,” he hissed.
Georgiana looked at him with a steely eye that caused him to momentarily quail then she said, very quietly, “I fear, Cousin, that you have forgotten how you treated me when I was a child; however, I have not forgotten any of the times that you pushed me, or pulled my hair, or maliciously broke my toys. I also suspect that you now find my company acceptable only because my husband will be the recipient of £30,000 when I marry. I, on the other hand, have no desire to marry a spoilt child who will throw away his patrimony and my dowry on gambling and dissipation.”
Lord St. George glared at her speechlessly for a moment then attempted to gather the shreds of his dignity and said distantly, “Well, I would not want to pressure you into a marriage that was distasteful to you, Cousin.”
“Excellent,” she said and immediately set down her half-filled wineglass and left the library.
***
When the first carriage pulled up, Georgiana had rejoined her family in the hall and appeared to be ready to greet their guests, but Elizabeth was surprised to see that her colour was high and her eyes glittered darkly. She did not have time to talk to her before the first couple appeared, but she watched her covertly during the long reception line. Whatever had upset Georgiana, she did her part cor
rectly, if not with perfect ease, introducing Elizabeth to those guests who had not met her previously. Elizabeth turned from making conversation with an arriving family she had met at an earlier party and realised that the colonel had also arrived and appeared to have been there for some while. She was diverted to see that he had taken a place at one side of Georgiana, while Lord St. George stood stiffly at her other side.
As the first rush of guests passed, Lady Whitwell signalled the orchestra to start the dancing. Lord St. George claimed the first dance with Georgiana, bowing very formally to her. After a preliminary short number while the dancers sorted themselves into lines, with Lord St. George and Georgiana at the head, they struck up a lively dance. Elizabeth and Darcy had been placed within sight of the refreshment table where they could inform Lady Whitwell if it needed attention, and Elizabeth watched Georgiana with veiled apprehension. Her eyes were again glittering above her thin smile, while her partner’s face was an unreadable mask, his feelings betrayed only by the equally narrow line of his mouth.
“I think Georgiana and Lord St. George must have quarrelled,” Elizabeth whispered to Darcy.
He turned his attention to the dancers and, after watching them for a few moments, nodded. “I think you must be right. What do you suppose they are quarrelling about?”
“I do not know,” she said vaguely as she stared at them and then added under her breath, “but I could make an educated guess.”
The first dances finished. Lord St. George bowed stiffly again to Georgiana after leading her from the floor, while she returned the bare minimum of a curtsey. Colonel Fitzwilliam came to claim the two dances for which he had engaged her, and she turned to him with a slow smile, which continued to play about her lips all during their dances. She again lifted her eyes to his each time they faced each other in the figure. The colonel seemed pleased enough with his partner but glanced frequently at his brother, a slight frown between his brows. Lord St. George was partnering Miss Bingley and she, at any rate, seemed very happy with the attention and her face was wreathed in smiles during the dances.
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