by AmyJ
Though she may have preferred to play a hand or two of whist, it was not to be.
As hostess, it was her duty to speak to each of the guests, and see to their
comforts, be that warming their tea cup, or diffusing any tension by gently guiding conversations.
When the gentlemen rejoined them, Elizabeth took her place by her husband's side.
"I thank you all for attending this small gathering this evening. Now that Arryndale once again has a mistress," he smiled down at Elizabeth, "such gatherings will not be so infrequent." He turned to Elizabeth and kissed her hand. "To the new Mrs. Darcy."
After the rest of the room echoed her husband, he presented Mr. Linnell. The artist puffed himself up and, with more pomp than necessary, unveiled
Elizabeth's portrait.
While trying not to seem overly eager, several of the ladies made their way to the painting for careful inspection. A few commented on having their likeness captured by the more notable Mr. Lawrence, but that was the extent of the
barbs.
The evening ended after several pianoforte performances by various ladies,
including Elizabeth.
Though still beaming from the praise she received from the Matlocks, the
Blakeslees, and a few others, her happiness was outweighed by her fatigue, and Elizabeth could barely keep her eyes open. Though she still joined her husband in his rooms that evening, there was no reading or games played. The last thing she heard before drifting off was Darcy saying, "You were splendid tonight..."
The day following the dinner was busier than ever. Though the ball was being hosted by the Matlocks, Elizabeth was no less busy.
The knocker on Arryndale had been put up, and so in the morning, she received several calls. Some were from ladies who had attended the dinner the previous evening. Others who came to call were acquainted with Mr. and Miss Darcy,
but were more anxious to meet the new Mrs. Darcy.
The afternoon was spent at Lanelle House, where Elizabeth met with Lady
Matlock and Lady Fitzwilliam, reviewing the final preparations for the ball.
There was not much to inspect, but Lady Matlock seemed intent on having
Elizabeth privy to every detail, from the dinner menu to the order of the
dances.
After having hosted her first dinner party, Elizabeth had a new appreciation for the effort required, and happily took instruction from the great lady.
Finally, Elizabeth returned to Arryndale to ready herself. Penny, being ever efficient, had her bath, complete with rosewater, ready upon her return.
As the hour for departure neared, Darcy entered the Mistress's chamber.
"Elizabeth," Darcy said in a tone somewhere between a groan and whine. He fingered the pendant which hung just inches from the neckline of her gown.
"You did this on purpose."
"I have no idea what you mean." Her eyes twinkled with the full knowledge of the effect she was having on him.
He touched his forehead to hers. "Promise me you will not dance with anyone tonight but me."
"Fitzwilliam, you know I can not do that." She chastely kissed his lips. "If, however, you promise not to brood all night, I shall promise to enjoy my
dances with you the most."
"I shall try." He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. As they did not wish to be late for the ball, the intimacy was tinged with restraint, and only lasted a minute.
As they headed below stairs, the smile slipped from Darcy's face, and a more formal façade emerged. It would be a long night. At least he had the comfort of knowing this time, nothing could come between them. She was his. Still, he
briefly wondered if it was too late to ask her to wear her white cap instead of the feathers.
Elizabeth and Darcy arrived at Lanelle House with the first guests. Though the number gathered would far exceed last night's soirée, Elizabeth was not nearly so nervous. Perhaps it was because she was not the official host, or because her confidence had been bolstered by the success of her dinner party; whatever the reason, she seemingly glowed.
For the first hour or so of the evening, she stood close to Darcy's side, greeting, curtseying, and thanking guests for attending. She would never remember all the names - the guests were a dizzying array of gentry, peers, and tradesman -
but tried to take note of ones the Matlocks or Darcy took particular trouble in greeting.
Things were progressing quite well, even Mrs. Bennet was more subdued than
her wont, until Elizabeth heard a familiar, but unwanted, cry. "Mrs. Darcy!"
She had just enough time to locate its source before being wrapped in an
embrace by none other than Caroline Bingley. "It has been an age!" Miss Bingley politely greeted Darcy, but then quickly turned her attention back to Elizabeth. "I can not wait to hear all about your wedding trip. Why, I was just telling Louisa it was a shame she and Hurst missed the wedding; everything
was so lovely."
Stunned at the sudden change in Miss Bingley's demeanour towards her,
Elizabeth had difficulty finding her tongue; Mrs. Bennet, however, did not.
"How kind of you to say so, Miss Bingley!" The matron tittered. "I was concerned when you and your brother left early; but some people are of a
delicate constitution, and are easily fatigued from travel. It was unfortunate you
could not have arrived in Hertfordshire sooner so you could have had time to refresh yourself."
Elizabeth bit down a snicker as the Miss Bingley she was more acquainted with emerged; truly, Miss Bingley looked as though she had sucked on a lemon.
Prepared for the emergence of the lady's acerbic tongue, Elizabeth was once again surprised when it was Mr. Bingley who spoke, and then "not wishing to further hold up the line," quickly departed with his sister.
When the dancing began, Darcy led Elizabeth onto the floor. They were
followed by Lord and Lady Matlock, and other close friends and family.
Elizabeth's eyes widened as she noticed her father leading her mother out to the floor. "He never dances!" she whispered to Darcy as the music began.
Darcy's eyes twinkled. "A man will do almost anything for his daughter."
Not wishing to spend the entire dance in a blush, Elizabeth changed the
subject. "Mr. Bingley seems out of sorts. Have you spoken to him?"
"Not since discussing his dinner invitation." Seeing Elizabeth frown, he reiterated his position. "You may not have thought it necessary to exclude them, but I did. Bingley understood perfectly." He flashed a brief smile. "But this is hardly the place for such a discussion. Surely you can find a more
entertaining topic."
"Very well. What think you of books? I have recently finished a most intriguing lady's novel."
Darcy laughed aloud. "Books---oh! no. I cannot talk of books in a ball-room, and certainly not a ladies novel."
Elizabeth laughed. For the remainder of the set, the subject was changed to less intriguing topics or alternately in companionable silence and ease, despite their being on display for the crowd.
The evening progressed much like every other ball. Darcy did his duty in
dancing with Mary and Jane, as well as a few others. When he was not
dancing, he spent his time watching Elizabeth dance with other men, cursing the social custom that required her to do so, or visiting with acquaintances in the card rooms.
Elizabeth did her best in answering the questions of all the matrons. The
reaction of the ton was a mixed bag. There were some who did nothing to hide their displeasure or censure. Some accepted her as one of them, in fear of the consequences of doing otherwise, and then, of course, there were those whose congratulations and approbations were sincere.
All in all, the evening was considered a success. As everyone was quite
fatigued, the carriage ride back to Arryndale was quiet. Even Mrs. Bennet's commentar
y had been kept to a few slight murmurings about the grandeur of it all.
"It is over," Elizabeth murmured, with no little relief, as she nestled her head into her pillow. She was the new Mrs. Darcy, and all of London had come out to acknowledge the fact, whether they approved of her or not.
"Aye," came the drowsy reply of her husband. "Good night, dearest Beth."
"Good night, dearest husband."
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Relishing the quiet and their privacy the morning after the ball, Elizabeth and Darcy lingered in their rooms a bit longer than prudent, considering they still had guests. However, as most everyone was tired from the previous evening's festivities, the couple still found themselves amongst the first to arrive in the breakfast room. They were only preceded by Georgiana and Kitty, who had not attended the ball; Lydia was never an early riser, so her absence went
unnoticed.
Before Elizabeth and Darcy had a chance to fill their plates, there were cries for details on the evening, which Elizabeth happily supplied. The three girls discussed everything from the gowns to the dinner to the dances that were
performed.
One by one, the other Bennets straggled in for the morning meal. Most of the conversations were about the ball; Elizabeth's version of events was
insufficient, and thus the two younger women implored Jane, Mary, and even
Mr. Bennet for tales. Lydia, still put out that she had been unable to attend, sat quietly at the corner after few failed attempts to turn the conversation in her direction.
When Mrs. Bennet arrived, the harmonious mood came to a screeching halt.
She spent a few minutes effusing about the grandeur of last night, but soon launched into bemoaning the fact they were to return to Longbourn later that day.
"I do not understand what could possibly be so important at Longbourn," Mrs.
Bennet railed at her husband. "Lizzy will not mind having us a few more days, for she has more than enough rooms for us."
Mr. Bennet, however, would not be swayed. "If you intrude on your daughter's hospitality much longer, Mrs. Bennet, you may find yourself without an
invitation to Pemberley. Besides, I have been away from my library long
enough." He exchanged an amused glance with his second daughter, before refilling his coffee.
"But Kitty and Lydia have not..." Mrs. Bennet protested, only to be interrupted by her husband.
"The trunks are already on the carriage, Mrs. Bennet. I suggest you enjoy this fine breakfast, for surely the eggs and toast at Longbourn can not compare."
Mrs. Bennet relented, but those closest to her could hear her murmuring
something about her nerves and marriage of other daughters.
With the Bennets on their way to Hertfordshire, the remainder of the day was passed in relative quiet.
Lady Matlock, along with her sister, Mrs. Granville, called late in the
afternoon, but did not stay much beyond tea.
Darcy had an appointment with his steward and solicitor, leaving Georgiana
and Elizabeth to begin designing a new screen. Though it was not in
Georgiana's nature to be silly, Elizabeth was an apt teacher and the young girl quickly shed her usual reserve. Together, they laughed and teased one another on everything from the placement of the oak tree, to the types of flora and fauna that would be represented.
"You can not mix spring flowers with summer flowers," Georgiana stated in her haughtiest tone. "It is simply not done."
"Flowers are flowers, Miss Darcy." Elizabeth rejoined, ignoring the amused, but shaking head of Mrs. Annesley. "I am Mistress now, and shall do as I please."
The two dissolved into a fit of giggles. They laughed their way through a long façade of pretension, but the screen was finally sketched. As their silliness ended, Georgiana sighed happily and leaned her head against Elizabeth's
shoulder. "I am so glad you are my sister, Elizabeth."
"I am too."
That evening, Elizabeth and Darcy retired early. Too tired to read, Elizabeth simply laid against her husband, taking comfort in his nearness.
"Are you happy it is over?" Darcy asked, gently stroking his wife's forehead.
"It is a load off," she admitted. "The ball was intriguing, would you not agree?"
"How so?"
"For starters, Lord Blakeslee danced his first with Jane."
"It means nothing."
Elizabeth turned just enough to look at her husband. "How can you say that? It was the first!"
"Has Jane claimed any attachment to Wesley?"
At this, Elizabeth returned to her initial position. "No, but only because I did not have a chance to inquire."
"I have it on good authority Wesley has spoken to Jane, and she has rejected his suit."
At this, Elizabeth turned sharply to judge her husband's sincerity. "She did?
When?" Stunned, but convinced her husband spoke the truth, she crumpled beside him. "Why did she not tell me?"
"I am sorry, dearest." Darcy soothed.
"It is not your fault," Elizabeth said, with a note of sadness. "It is..." She sighed. "I was too distracted and did not make time to speak with her. What a wretched sister I have been." She felt Darcy kiss the top of her head.
"I doubt Jane would agree, but if you wish, you could invite her to Arryndale for the Season."
Surprising even herself, Elizabeth replied in the negative. "It is an adjustment we both must make." Changing the subject, Elizabeth said in a lighter tone,
"What do you make of Miss Bingley? Is it possible she has turned over a new leaf?" Teasing she added, "Perhaps she and Mr. Bingley have decided to exchange dispositions."
Darcy was silent for a moment. "Did Bingley dance with you?"
"No. Indeed, he did not speak to me at all, other than upon his arrival. Is something troubling him do you think?" She turned a curious expression towards her husband. "Surely he can not object to our union." It was more a question than a statement.
Darcy immediately shook his head no. Bingley had no reason to object to his marriage; of that, Darcy was certain. Elizabeth's statement about not speaking at all to Bingley, however, struck a chord, and Darcy suddenly realized he had hardly spoken to Bingley since before the wedding; and Bingley had been not been himself then either. It was unlike his friend to let so much time pass without some discourse. Something was definitely troubling his friend. A
moment later, he shook himself from his reflection. "I am sure it is nothing with which to concern yourself. With the Season under way, Bingley will be
about town. I shall speak to him." He kissed his wife's head. "As for Miss Bingley, I leave that for you to decide." When Elizabeth did not respond, he added, "If you do not wish to accept her calls, you have but to give the order."
"For Mr. Bingley's sake, it would be imprudent to ban her from our home. I am not afraid of her."
Darcy chuckled. "Of course you are not. Even the Queen does not intimidate you."
Elizabeth slapped at the arm that had wound its way around her waist.
"Fitzwilliam!"
He nuzzled her neck. "I love you all the more for it, dearest wife."
"I love you too, my dear husband."
With the Bennets back in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth, Darcy, and to a lesser extent Georgiana lent themselves fully to the Season. Calls were made and received almost daily, and the evenings were spent at a dizzying array of dinners and balls.
Elizabeth's acceptance amongst high society went much as expected. For those seeking a Darcy connection, Elizabeth was a potential avenue to that end, and thus they were quick to befriend her.
At the other end of the spectrum were those who would never forgive Mr
Darcy for marrying outside their circle, and having no need of his status, were slow to accept the interloper. Most of them greeted her with indifference,
neither shunning nor seeking her out, but there were some who would hardly
&nb
sp; acknowledge her.
In the middle were those like Miss Bingley; gravely disappointed by the
marriage, yet they publicly paid deference to the new Mrs. Darcy. While a
connection to the Darcy name was not imperative, it was highly desirable.
As the season progressed, the Darcys could be seen about town with unusual
regularity. When they were not partaking in dinner parties and balls, they could be seen at one of London's many attractions, including the Promenade, Bond
Street, Covent Garden, Hyde Park, or one of London's theatres.
Though he had learnt to become more tolerant of social obligations with
Elizabeth by his side, Darcy continued to spend a good amount of time
pursuing more gentlemanly modes of entertaining, primarily, the fencing
school and his club. There, he generally could be seen in the company of his closest friends, including Lord Blakeslee, Mr. Woodall, and to a lesser extent, Mr. Bingley.
While his friendship with Woodall and Lord Blakeslee went largely unchanged, the same could not be said for Mr. Bingley. Darcy and Bingley were polite to one another, and even shared a few laughs, but there was a distance that had not been felt since their initial introduction.
Conversation between them was often stilted, and just when Darcy felt them to be making some headway, Bingley would abruptly end the conversation.
Unable to ferret out the root of Bingley's new moroseness, Darcy let him be; Bingley would come to him when he was ready.
Elizabeth watched the people as the carriage rolled along the cobblestone,
returning the couple home after another evening at the theatre. Even after a month in Town, observing the variety of human behaviour did not fail to amuse her. Though she could not hear their conversations, the body language was
often telling.
"Fitzwilliam," she cried, spying a small group of gentlemen with a lone woman. "Is that not Mr. Bingley?"
Darcy merely glanced at the group before voicing his certainty she was
incorrect; the group was being rather obnoxious and clearly well foxed, not at all the type with whom Bingley associated. At his wife's insistence though, he leaned over her and took a closer look. His eyes widened in surprise as he
recognized his friend, entertaining a lady of the night, no less! "Stop the carriage!" he barked.