by AmyJ
has requested to be informed of your return as soon as may be, and Lord Blakeslee has called twice. Mr. Seymour has your invitations in your study, Mr.
Darcy; he was uncertain how you wished to coordinate them, so has both yours and Mrs. Darcy's. Mrs. Darcy's calling cards arrived two days ago; they are in her private parlour. Mr. Keenan wishes to let you know he will, of course,
reprint them if they are not satisfactory. Mr. Tattersall also called with the utmost urgency yesterday morn."
On and on, the housekeeper went until they reached the Master and Mistress'
quarters. Darcy and Elizabeth thanked their housekeeper for her fastidiousness, and then asked for a tea service to be sent to the music room in thirty minutes.
After ridding themselves of their travel dust, Elizabeth and Darcy made their way to the music room. The moment they entered, Georgiana jumped from the
bench at the pianoforte, and in a most unladylike display, ran across the room.
She threw her arms around Elizabeth, greeting her with a sisterly kiss on the cheek.
After Elizabeth returned the kiss and a hearty embrace, Georgiana turned to greet her brother.
"Married but a month, and already I am relegated to second choice." Darcy grumbled, though his bright eyes belied his amusement.
"Really, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana laughed. After hugging her brother, she took his arm and led him to the sofa. "I wish to hear everything."
Tea was brought in, and the three spent most of the afternoon acquainting each other of their comings and goings over the past month. Elizabeth spoke of their trip to the Peaks and the dinner with the Strelleys. Darcy relayed pertinent information about the tenants and Pemberley, while Georgiana told of her
many shopping excursions with Lady Matlock and Lady Fitzwilliam. She also
mentioned having received calls from Miss Woodall and Miss Bingley.
After a while, Elizabeth reluctantly excused herself from the quiet reunion to spend an hour meeting with Mrs. Brenton. Based on the housekeeper's
monologue upon their arrival, the more sedate induction into her role as Mrs.
Darcy and society was not to be. Not only that, the remainder of the Bennet family would be descending on Arryndale later that week. There was plenty to do.
Dinner that evening was a pleasant affair, but tired from travel, an exhausted Elizabeth climbed the stairs and readied for bed earlier than her wont.
Unwilling to leave all of the Pemberley way of life behind in Derbyshire, she entered her husband's sitting room after knocking lightly.
She was not surprised to find Darcy waiting for her. A chess board at the ready, instead of his usual reading material, however, did amuse her. Surely he did not expect her mental faculties to be at their peak.
"I thought to sharpen my game, if you are up to it," he said. "Wesley or Woodall will no doubt issue a challenge."
"Surely your skills have not decreased, dear husband." Elizabeth flattered.
"Why, I had heard you to have championed all of London." She settled into the sofa, away from the game, and opened her tome. "Besides, an accomplished lady of the ton could hardly be expected to engage in such activity." She began reading, studiously avoiding her husband's gaze.
Darcy stared at his wife with his mouth agape. Had she really refused to play?
Because it was unfashionable? After a moment, he shook his head, trying to
hide his amusement. She was teasing him again.
Seeing she was not going to relent without further prodding, he walked over to her and stood towering over her; his shadow casting a shadow over the words.
Finally, she looked up at him. "Is there something troubling you, husband?"
She smiled innocently and held her book closer to the candle.
"Indeed there is," he said gravely. "I seem to have lost my wife on my way to London. You have not perchance seen her, have you?"
Elizabeth gasped, pressing her hand to her lips in feigned distress. "Perhaps. I have myself just come from the north. If you were to describe her for me, I could inquire as to her whereabouts."
Darcy drew in a breath, and then manoeuvred the two of them so Elizabeth was repositioned on his lap. "I am most distressed over losing her for she could never be replaced. She was the most beautiful woman in all the land. She has dark curls I love to watch bounce as she walks." He brushed his fingers through her dark locks; then ran his hand along her neck. "And the most graceful neckline a man could ever hope to lay eyes upon." He placed a feather-light kiss on her throat. "Her eyes," he added huskily, "they are fine, beautiful, brown orbs. But not just any brown; they are soft and warm, and sparkle when she laughs." He sighed wistfully. "A man could get lost forever in them."
Though the chess board remained untouched, Darcy spent the remainder of the night practicing various tactics, including removing the guard of his opponent, cornering the queen, and exploiting each and every one of his opponent's
openings.
The following day, even before the acceptable calling hour, Elizabeth was
whisked away by Lady Matlock, Lady Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana. Her
presentation at court was in two days time, and according to the great lady, there were a hundred things to do.
They started the morning with a final inspection and fitting of her gown.
Elizabeth stood stock still as the modiste pulled and pinned her gown. After that, she was subjected to the same thing as Penny curled her hair, and then
stuck it with pins and feathers. Then, fully frocked, Elizabeth practiced walking, taking her bow, and kissing the hand of the queen.
Though it would all have to be done again the day of her presentation, even Elizabeth did not mind the activity. She was nervous, and her flawless
execution during the practice session bolstered her confidence. Now, if only there was something she could do about the ridiculous, frilly gown!
While Elizabeth was being surrounded by the gaggle of women, Darcy
attended to business until Lord Blakeslee came to call. The two immediately proceeded to the armoury for some fencing experience.
"You are out of shape, old man," Blakeslee chided, after scoring his third point in a row.
Darcy nodded in agreement while attempting to catch his breath. He was out of shape, but that was hardly surprising. It had been six weeks, and like more, since he had last picked up a foil. He had no reason to repine his lapse though; if he never picked up a foil again, he could never regret his marriage to
Elizabeth.
After several more rounds, Darcy conceded a sound defeat. The two towelled
down, and then retreated to Darcy's study for some refreshments.
"I do hope you have at least managed to keep your chess play sharp, or you shall be no good to me at all." Lord Blakeslee drawled, before taking a sip of his lemonade. "I shall have to resort to playing with Landon and Woodall, and neither of them have decent port."
"I assure you, my chess game is quite fine," Darcy replied. Recalling his last attempt at the game, a private smirk emerged.
"We shall find out soon enough. You will be at the Woodall's dinner party tomorrow?"
"Indeed. I thought it would be a good way to ease Elizabeth into the Season."
Blakeslee rolled his eyes amusedly. "I shall have Woodall ensure the chess boards are at the ready. How is Pemberley?"
"It is good. How are Lady Blakeslee and Julian?"
"Mother has completed the list of acceptable debutantes I am to entertain this season, and Julian is at Cambridge. Any word from Richard?"
Darcy shook his head. "There was a letter he arrived safely on the continent, but nothing since then." He shrugged.
The two spoke of other news of town and family. Lord Blakeslee was invited to dine with the family, but declined.
The following day was more subdued than the previous one. Elizabeth was busy making herself comfortable in her new home, and dealing with matters
wit
h the servants, the house, and preparing for the arrival of her family.
Darcy was busy re-establishing acquaintances at his club and around town.
That evening, the two prepared for their first public appearance as man and wife.
As much as Darcy tried to reassure her, Elizabeth was still nervous. The last thing she wanted to do was commit some faux pas that would embarrass either of them. As a result, the carriage ride was quiet.
Once they arrived however, it was not long before Elizabeth felt at ease. The Woodall dinner party included a few relatives and friends. It was about the size of the gatherings at Longbourn, and most of the guests seemed more interested in currying the Darcys' favour, than finding fault with Elizabeth.
They were both having a pleasant time, until two unexpected guests
approached. "Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley greeted enthusiastically. "It is so good to see you!" With an upturned lip, she added, "Mrs. Darcy."
Elizabeth could feel Miss Bingley's appraising eyes rake over her, but did not have time to react, as Mr. Bingley greeted them next.
"Mrs. Darcy, may I say how charming you look this evening." To Darcy he said, "Darcy, married life seems to suit you." His tone was more formal than expected, and his friendly sparkle was all but gone.
The small smile that already graced Darcy's face grew. With a single nod, he replied, "Thank you, Bingley. I am enjoying it."
With an unspoken embargo on almost every topic, silence fell on the group
until Mr. Bingley asked, "May I inquire after your family, Mrs. Darcy?"
"Thank you, Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth replied, hoping her shock was not too evident. "Miss Darcy is well." She raised a brow, almost daring him to inquire after Jane.
When Bingley did, Elizabeth replied tartly, "Oh, I had not thought they concerned you. How kind of you to ask after them. I heard from them just
before departing Pemberley; they are well." When Mr. Bingley flinched, however, Elizabeth immediately felt remorseful. How Jane would chastise her now if she were present! Not only that, Mr. Bingley, he still was her husband's friend, and she should be kind to him, regardless of her feelings.
"And... um... are you enjoying yourself in town?" Mr. Bingley asked, looking anywhere but at Elizabeth.
"We have only just arrived, but I have no complaints." Elizabeth replied lightly.
"Though I must own to already missing Pemberley's walking paths." She smiled up at Darcy.
The awkwardness of the situation was diffused by a call to dinner. Elizabeth noted with increasing respect how Bingley was quick to offer his arm to his sister, relieving Darcy of any obligation he might have felt.
Throughout the dinner, Elizabeth, and to a lesser extent Darcy, answered any number of questions regarding her family, Longbourn, her previous connection with the Darcys, places she had visited in town, merchants she patronized, and many other subjects. The questions were polite and kindly meant, in most
cases, even if they were impertinent.
After dinner, the men separated from the ladies.
Without the protection of her husband, Elizabeth felt the eyes of the room upon her. At any moment, she expected the ladies to turn and begin finding find fault with her. Having been well prepared for such an occasion, Elizabeth
maintained a neutral, nonplussed appearance. She continued answering
questions politely, and was relieved when her fears were discovered to be
mostly unfounded. She would later learn most of the women were from
families considered beneath the Darcys, but more than one lady present had
entertained hopes of an alliance.
In another room, filled with the scent of tobacco and liquor, Darcy too found himself the centre of attention. The gentlemen, it seemed, were intent on
picking up where they had left off when they last met in London.
"Darcy," Woodall proclaimed while exhaling a puff of smoke, "I believe I liked you better unmarried." A ruckus of laughter filled the room. "That grin on your face is downright insufferable. It has been what, a month? Have you not tired of it already?"
"Fortunate for me," Darcy replied, "I have not. I find myself rather enjoying being married."
The men all laughed knowingly.
"Careful, my friend," Blakeslee warned, "or you may find yourself too stupid to bring in the harvest." Loud laughter resounded and glasses clanked.
"I have my lovely wife for an excuse," came Darcy's retort. "What will be yours, Blakeslee?"
More guffaws were heard. For some time, all the men exchanged jabs and
insults - some more crude than others - with one another. After a while, chess boards were set up, and Darcy proved that while marriage may have affected
his fencing skills, it had not affected his mental capabilities in the least.
As the evening grew late, the men finally rejoined the ladies, and Darcy
unashamedly took a place by his wife's side. After performances by several of the ladies at the pianoforte and other instruments, the evening ended.
Back in the privacy of their own carriage, Elizabeth leaned heavily against her husband. If this evening was any indication of the days to come, the next six
weeks would be trying indeed. The ladies that evening had been too conscientious of their station to openly show their displeasure by Darcy's
choice. Yet even that did not stop their brazen inquiry. One lady had even gone so far as to question the size of Elizabeth's dowry and settlement.
Her only saving grace would be a quick acceptance by good society. Once she was no longer considered an interloper, such questions would cease; at least so she hoped.
"You were lovely this evening, Elizabeth." Darcy grinned smugly, though the dark of night hid it. "Everyone was quite jealous of me."
A tired snicker could be heard. "And of me. Though I doubt the men were quite so curious of the arts and allurements you used to capture one of London's
favourites."
Darcy squeezed her tight. "Whatever ones you used, I hope you continue using them," he murmured huskily.
Elizabeth responded the only way she could, given their current surroundings.
She sidled up next to him. "I love you, Fitzwilliam."
The following day, Elizabeth sat quietly in the carriage next to Lady Matlock; across from her, sat Fitzwilliam.
It was over. She had kissed the hand of the queen, and had managed to exit the room without tripping over her train. Rather than feeling relief, however,
Elizabeth felt strangely empty. All those hours of practice, the trips to the modiste, the time spent to ensure her hair was just right, and the anxiety while waiting in the cold entrance hall. It had all culminated to a short ten minutes in front of Her Majesty. It just did not seem to balance.
Perhaps her befuddlement might have been less, had being in the presence
queen met her expectations. But it did not. True, she did not know what to
expect, but disenchantment was not amongst it.
Queen Charlotte was magnanimous to be sure, but she reminded Elizabeth
more of her grandmother, not the ruler of England and its colonies. The Queen was a person! A person past her prime, and whose experiences, both happy and sad, were etched in the lines of her face.
The more she thought about it, the more Elizabeth realized she had expected to be awed in the presence of the Queen. She had expected to be intimidated, to have her worthiness tested. Yet it was nothing like that.
"I understand your family arrives tomorrow?" Lady Matlock asked,
interrupting Elizabeth's reflections.
"Yes."
"And the plans for the dinner are under control?"
"Everything should be as planned." She turned towards Lady Matlock. "I must thank you for agreeing to sponsor me, and your assistance in the dinner and ball."
Lady Matlock acknowledged the words with a single nod, and then began
speaking of other general news aro
und town, until the carriage stopped in front of Lanelle House.
The three said their goodbyes, and after Darcy saw his aunt to the door, he and Elizabeth returned to Arryndale.
Alone in their rooms, Elizabeth and Darcy were finally free to speak of the morning.
"You have already changed." Darcy observed upon entering the Mistress'
chambers.
"As soon as possible." She shrugged into a dressing robe. Seeing her husband's look of disappointment, she laughed. "Surely you could not have found it...
becoming."
Darcy's cheeks reddened, betraying his thoughts. "I did not think it so awful,"
he mumbled. "Who am I to disagree with the Queen's preferences?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and groaned. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her husband's waist. "You are incorrigible sometimes."
They settled on Elizabeth's sofa, before Darcy inquired about how it all
proceeded.
"I managed not to make a fool of myself," Elizabeth teased. "Though I own, it seems like a great deal of trouble for just a few short minutes."
"She is the Queen," he lightly reprimanded; it was an automatic response.
"Yes. But somehow, I expected something more inspiring, and less... normal."
She shrugged. "I find Lady Matlock more intimidating than Queen Charlotte."
A light blush touched her cheeks.
"Only you, my dear, would make such an observation." He kissed his wife's head. "But I think I comprehend you. The first time I met the Prince Regent, I was taken aback at how normal he appeared." He chuckled. "Were it not for everyone bowing to him, and the scads of guards that followed him, I would
not have known him to be different than any other courtier."
Elizabeth smiled and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "I knew you would understand."
"Are you pleased it is over with?"
Elizabeth nodded. "If only the dinner and ball were over as well. Then I could rest easy."
"You shall be marvellous, my sweet Beth. Even if Lord Matlock should end up wearing the soup course, I shall love you all the same."
Elizabeth could not help laughing. "I love you, dearest husband."