An Old Friend

by Jemima Selkirk

  She didn’t realise she was frowning until Lord Grantham suddenly whispered. “You have nothing to fear in that direction, my dear. She is an old friend, nothing more.”

  An old friend. There it was again. Elizabeth was tempted to ask his Lordship what he knew of Adeline Dearborn, but she could not. She knew Mr. Darcy would not be happy if she invited any sort of gossip.

  She allowed his Lordship to guide her back towards the fireplace.

  “Darcy, I return your wife to you,” said his Lordship. “I could not have had a better partner for the opening of the ball.”

  Darcy nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  His Lordship turned to the other man. “Halpern. This is a surprise. I had no idea you were expected this evening.”

  The man, who was even shorter that Lord Grantham, dabbed at his forehead with a large white handkerchief. “Your wife, sir, was kind enough to invite me and when I knew this glamorous creature was back, I decided to bring her with me. You do remember Miss Dearborn, don’t you?”

  “He remembers,” said Miss Dearborn before his Lordship had the opportunity to answer. “Grantham, it is lovely to see you again.” She dropped a curtsey for his Lordship and Elizabeth noted there was something challenging, almost insolent in the way Miss Dearborn stared up at him.

  Grantham? Elizabeth was shocked. Miss Dearborn had done it again. She wondered if she was always so familiar with people.

  His Lordship merely smiled and said how nice it was to see her again, before taking his leave and disappearing to speak to some of his other guests.

  Miss Dearborn turned her bright eyes on Elizabeth. “I am so pleased to have this opportunity to see you again, Mrs. Darcy,” she said, “I was sorry we did not have longer to get acquainted the other day. I so want to get to know all about you.”

  Elizabeth stared back, wondering if Miss Dearborn was sincere. Was she deliberately trying to come between herself and Mr. Darcy?

  “And I you Miss Dearborn,” said Elizabeth. “Until yesterday, I had not heard of you. As for myself, I am afraid you will find me very dull.”

  Elizabeth could feel the tension of Mr. Darcy standing next to her, but she ignored it and kept her eyes firmly fixed on Miss Dearborn.

  The elder woman smiled. “I am sure that’s not true. Darcy would never have married a bore.”

  “Indeed I would not.”

  Elizabeth heard the warning note in her husband’s voice and felt ashamed. Her clumsy attempt to embarrass Miss Dearborn had failed. She hoped Miss Dearborn would not stay by their side for the rest of the ball.

  8

  “So this is your wife Darcy,” said the man with Miss Dearborn, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth’s bosom.

  “My dear, I don’t think you have met Lord Halpern,” said Mr. Darcy. “Halpern, this is my wife, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Darcy. I think Darcy has kept you hidden.” The man smiled, but it was not a smile that reached his eyes. and Elizabeth did not take to him.

  She lifted her chin slightly. “Mr. Darcy has not kept me hidden, sir. It is I who have been reluctant to share him.”

  Lord Halpern digested what she had said then let out a roar of laughter. “A woman of spirit, I see. Darcy, you have chosen well. Now if you will excuse me, I will leave Miss Dearborn in your care. Lord Masterson is here somewhere, and I must have a word. I dislike the man, but I need his help in the House.”

  Lord Halpern disappeared and there was a moment of awkward silence broken only by the arrival of a footman offering glasses of la Romaine. Elizabeth who was still feeling a little warm from dancing the cotillion, gratefully took a glass, though the others refused.

  “Are you here for long?” asked Mr. Darcy of Miss Dearborn.

  “My plans are uncertain. I wanted to see whether....”

  Elizabeth thought Miss Dearborn looked a little lost as her sentence went unfinished and she briefly gazed across the room. She gave a deep sigh before smiling at Mr. Darcy and continuing. “I was wondering, whether the family reputation… well, you know…”

  “I know,” said Mr. Darcy gravely and Elizabeth could not help thinking there were unspoken words between them. There was obviously some mystery surrounding Miss Dearborn, and yet she had no idea what it was.

  She felt annoyed. They were acting as if she was not there. She was about to ask Miss Dearborn about her life in Derbyshire when Miss Dearborn spoke.

  “I must not monopolise you, Darcy. I see Mrs. Chiltern and her daughters are here.” Miss Dearborn nodded in the direction of three women who were staring at them, disapproval written on their faces. “There was a time when we were friends.”

  “You do not have to do this,” said Mr. Darcy quietly.

  Miss Dearborn touched his arm. “Yes, I do,” she said quietly.

  Elizabeth wanted to slap her hand away. Who was this woman who called her husband Darcy and touched his arm? Mr. Darcy did not seem to find anything amiss. He had not flinched at her touch and was continuing to look at her with concern.

  Miss Dearborn smiled at them both. “There are several people I wish to speak to. Mrs Darcy I hope that we will have the opportunity to talk later.”

  Elizabeth thankfully watched her go. Miss Dearborn was a picture of elegance and confidence with a presence that made her stand out from all the other women in the room. Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy. It was not the place, but she needed to know more. She opened her mouth to speak but was suddenly silenced by the return of Georgiana with her dance partner. Elizabeth felt guilty as she realised she had forgotten all about her.

  “Was that not wonderful?” asked Georgiana. “I was worried that I would not remember all the steps and I would embarrass myself. Fitzwilliam, I am grateful you arranged dance lessons with Mr. Franklin.”

  “He is a good teacher,” said Mr. Darcy, “and you should have no fear. I thought you danced beautifully.”

  Georgiana beamed with pleasure. “I am glad you think so. I do find it a difficult dance, but Mr. Monmouth was most kind.”

  “Miss Darcy dances better than anyone I know,” said Mr. Monmouth gallantly.

  Elizabeth hid a smile. It certainly looked as if the rather earnest young man was smitten with Georgiana. Elizabeth felt a little sorry for him. She was certain he was not the only young man who would show an interest in Georgiana during the evening and after being so wrong about Wickham, Georgiana would be in no hurry to show a preference for any young man. As he took his leave, Lord Grantham’s son, the Honourable Vernon Fairfax, approached and asked Georgiana if she would honour him with the next dance.

  Georgiana shyly accepted the invitation and Elizabeth was glad to see her so happy. Despite Georgiana’s fears, she was certain invitations to dance would be forthcoming from many of the eligible bachelors.

  As Georgiana and her partner went to join the other couples, Elizabeth hoped she would have time to talk to Mr. Darcy about Miss Dearborn, but there was no opportunity as Lady Grantham joined them, wanting to introduce Elizabeth to her ‘good friend,’ the Duchess of Cosgrove. After greeting the Duchess, Mr. Darcy quickly made his excuses and Elizabeth suspected he was going to make his way to the library where he could enjoy a drink and some gentlemanly conversation in peace.

  Elizabeth turned her attention to the duchess, who was eager to question her on how she intended to spend her time in London and try to encourage her to do some visiting of the needy and poor.

  “You cannot spend a season in London merely attending balls and dinners,” said the Duchess firmly. “There are many people in need of your help, Mrs. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth listened carefully, but was cautious about agreeing to anything in spite of some determined pressure from the formidable duchess. She was relieved when two more women joined them and the conversation took a different turn.

  At midnight they sat down to eat and Elizabeth found herself seated between Lord Halpern and a Mr. Howard. Lord Halpern said nothing about Miss Dearborn, but he did tell her in
a ponderous manner about sitting in the House of Lords. Elizabeth listened politely, but she was glad when he turned to the lady on his left and she had the opportunity to speak to Mr. Howard, who hailed from Northumberland and was happy to be in London for his third daughter’s first season. “Five daughters,” he grumbled. “And a devil of an expense to get them all off my hands.”

  “My father would sympathise with you,” said Elizabeth as she nibbled on some fresh fruit. “I am one of five.”

  Mr. Howard seemed delighted not to be the only man in England suffering with daughters and he spent the rest of the meal bewailing the expense and the perils of not having a male heir. Although the food was plentiful, the meal did not last long as many of the guests were eager to resume their dancing.

  Elizabeth accompanied Georgiana back to the drawing room.

  “This is one of the best nights of my life. I hope every ball will be as pleasant as this one,” whispered Georgiana. “Everyone has been so kind and welcoming.”

  “So you would not rather have stayed at home,” teased Elizabeth.

  Georgiana blanched. “No, I would not.”

  Elizabeth laughed at her horrified expression. “That is most fortunate because I do believe you are about to be invited to dance again,” said Elizabeth as a handsome young man in a military jacket came to claim Georgiana.

  Elizabeth watched them line up with the other couples and looked for her husband, but she could not see him. Perhaps he had returned to the library. In truth she was a little disappointed. She had hoped that he might at least spend some time with her, after all she did not know many of the people present and he had made no effort to introduce her to others.

  She had a short word with Lady Forsythe, who admired her gown, but quickly moved on when they were joined by Mrs. Parker Knowles Smith, a woman she knew and disliked. Neither of them seemed sorry to see her go and as it was growing quite warm, she moved towards one of the doors which led out onto the balcony. It was surprisingly mild for the time of year, so they had been opened, allowing people to get some respite from the heat in the room. She stepped outside and immediately felt better. Standing by one of the pillars she was able to enjoy a few minutes alone. The evening had been spoiled for her by the attendance of Miss Dearborn, but she was glad that Georgiana was not short of dance partners and seemed so happy. As for herself, she could not wait until it was all over and she could talk to Mr. Darcy.

  Feeling better for the fresher air, she was about to step back into the drawing room, when a voice caught her attention.

  “I don’t know what she is doing here.”

  Elizabeth stepped back. She was certain they could only be talking about one person.

  “Who do you mean?” said a second voice.

  “That awful Dearborn woman. Who else? I don’t know how she can show her face.”

  Elizabeth felt a little guilty. It was not good to listen, she knew, but she could not resist. Perhaps she would learn more about Miss Dearborn. She stayed where she was and continued to listen.

  “She has a cheek, but then she always had.”

  The second voice sounded disdainful. “Some say she is attractive, but I think she is just brazen.”

  “I agree. She is not a lady. Why would Mr. Darcy dance with her?”

  Elizabeth stayed where she was, hidden from view, shaking uncontrollably. The words had wounded her. Fitzwilliam dancing with Miss Dearborn? It could not be true. The speaker must be mistaken. Surely, he would not humiliate her in such a manner?

  “It is shocking. You should be careful, my dear. She might try to steal your husband.”

  “Or Mrs. Darcy’s. I always thought she hoped to marry him until that business ruined them.”

  Elizabeth could not bear to listen any longer. She stepped back into the room and past the women standing just beyond the door. She did not wait to see their reaction. They were unworthy of her attention, but as she walked away her legs felt suddenly weak. She looked across at the couples dancing. The woman had been correct. Miss Dearborn and Mr. Darcy were dancing together. What a striking couple they made. She should have walked away, but she could not.

  Why was he dancing with her? Was it true they had once felt deeply for each other? Had Miss Dearborn come back with the specific intention of claiming him? It was as if she had been stabbed in the heart. She had never experienced such pain. It didn’t matter how many questions were floating around her head, she could not answer any of them. Mr. Darcy had said he was only concerned with the future. She could not imagine that his future included Miss Dearborn and yet he must have some feelings for her because he had called out her name in his sleep.

  As she watched them turning under the arms of the couple in front of them, and she saw Mr. Darcy whisper something to Miss Dearborn, she could take no more. She found it difficult to believe the man she loved so much could be so insensitive to her feelings. Dancing with a woman that some saw as a rival to her was unforgivable. With the sound of the music still ringing in her ears, she staggered from the room. All she wanted was to get as far away as possible. Once in the hallway, her legs seemed to give way and she clung onto a pillar to steady herself, unsure how much longer she would be able to keep standing.

  “Mrs. Darcy, are you unwell?”

  It was Lady Grantham, staring up at her with concern.

  Her voice did not sound like her own as she muttered. “I need to go home…”

  Lady Grantham lowered her voice discreetly. “I will ask someone to find Mr. Darcy.”

  “No!” It was a strangled cry of despair. She did not want to speak to him, not now, not here. It would be untenable. She had to go home.

  Lady Grantham was staring at her, a look of puzzlement on her face.

  Elizabeth tried to gather the little strength she had to sound as normal as possible. “Please don’t summon my husband. I would not upset him. I would be grateful if you would call our carriage to take me home and I shall send it back for Mr. Darcy and Georgiana.”

  Her ladyship looked as if she was about to argue, but she suddenly nodded and called over a footman, swiftly giving him some instructions about the carriage and finding Elizabeth’s cloak.

  Elizabeth knew her departure might arouse some comments, but she could not help it. The humiliation of seeing her husband dancing with Miss Dearborn so happily was something she was not prepared to tolerate.

  Lady Grantham stayed with her, issuing directions to members of her household, until her carriage was at the front and she was ready to depart. Whether she suspected what the real reason was for Elizabeth’s sudden departure, she did not say and when everything was ready Elizabeth thanked her for her kindness. “Please tell my husband I have a slight headache,” she said as she left.

  “I will, my dear, and I will send you an invitation for one of my afternoon meetings,” promised Lady Grantham.

  Elizabeth nodded and very soon she was in the carriage taking her away from the ball back to their home at Connaught Place. She thought being alone in the carriage would bring her some peace, but it did not. Pictures and sounds were fresh in her mind and she could not shut out the image she had of Miss Dearborn laughing and dancing with Mr. Darcy.

  The short journey seemed twice as long, and she was relieved when the carriage drew up outside their house. Mrs. Winter was surprised to see her alone, but made no comment when Elizabeth explained she was feeling unwell and had left the others at the ball.

  “Is there anything I may get you, madam?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” said Elizabeth as she headed for the stairs. “Please see that the carriage goes back to pick up Mr. Darcy and Georgiana.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  Not waiting to see whether Mrs. Winter obeyed her instructions, Elizabeth picked up the skirt of her dress and ran up to her room. Shutting the door, she threw herself down on the bed and let go of the bitter tears she had been holding in and sobbed uncontrollably.

  9

  “Good morning, madam.”
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br />   Maisie’s cheerful voice jarred as Elizabeth opened her eyes and slowly sat up in bed. Her mouth felt dry and her head ached.

  “What time is it?” she whispered as Maisie opened the shutters and let in some weak sunlight.

  “Eleven o’clock, madam. Miss Georgiana and Mr. Darcy are downstairs. Mr. Darcy was enquiring whether you were going to join them for breakfast this morning.”

  Elizabeth shook her head and winced at the sudden stab of pain. Her eyes felt swollen from the tears she had shed in the early hours of the morning. It was not in her nature to be so timid, but she was not yet ready to face her husband. “Please tell Mr. Darcy I am indisposed and I will be down later.”

  Maisie looked concerned. “Is there anything I can get you, madam? Would you like me to bring something up on a tray? You should try and eat.”

  The thought of food made her shudder. “No, thank you, Maisie. You can leave me now. I will ring when I need you again.”

  “Yes, madam.” Maisie half closed the shutters again, smoothed down the covers on the bed and then after a fierce look from Elizabeth, reluctantly left the room.

  Elizabeth lay back down again. She knew she could not hide from Mr. Darcy forever, but she was still furious with him for the humiliation she had suffered at the ball. He’d tried to speak to her when he’d returned home, knocking firmly on the door, but she had pretended to be asleep and had been relieved when she heard his footsteps retreating to his own room. Suddenly remembering the door between their rooms, she had hastily got out of bed and locked it. Haunted by the image of Mr. Darcy and Miss Dearborn dancing it had taken a long time to settle back to sleep and it wasn’t long before her mind started playing tricks on her and she imagined them together with Miss Dearborn as the mistress of Pemberley. She felt a little cowardly not going downstairs, but her head ached from all the crying she had done and when she did confront Mr. Darcy, she did not want him to realise how hurt she was. Turning over, Elizabeth closed her eyes and a short while later she fell into a deep sleep.