“And you need not count on your fingers, they have been married for a year now and so it is perfectly seemly.”
“I’m glad to say that Julia’s family have seen sense,” Sally said. “Lady Congreve is a sensible woman who was never much impressed by the enmity between the two families and she has persuaded her husband to come down from his high horse, moderate his temper and accept the inevitable. Julia was ever his favourite, and although he was so extremely angry and annoyed at the time I dare say he cannot bear not to be reconciled to her.”
“So ll is sweetness and light between the two families?”
She laughed, “It will never be that, but let us say they meet and are able to spend some time in each other’s company with perfect civility. How it will be when they are back on their estates and whether they will in the end settle that ridiculous boundary matter, who can tell?”
She fell silent as Marcus carved himself more slices of ham. Then she said, “Now it is all settled and they are married and Julia is breeding, you can tell me, brother dear, just how involved you were in that whole affair. And why?”
Marcus knew he would have no peace until she had the truth out of him. Since he was likely to be in London for some months, he intended to take lodgings, but for the time being, while he was in her house, it was best to come clean. She would get the truth out of him one way or another, so he might as well tell her.
“Involved is a strong word. I didn’t force Ranulph into an elopement, if that is what you are suggesting. The instant they met, he and Julia were enraptured with one another. And that was before she knew who he was, so there was no element of toying with danger on her part. As you know, that could add spice to a moderate liking. She was a little dismayed when she did find out who he was, which was the next day, when they met again, but it made no difference.”
“How ever did they meet, with her under her mother’s care?”
“She had an obliging maid, a young woman of a romantical disposition who appeared to be a serious person, and so was trusted to accompany Julia out on errands when Lady Congreve was otherwise occupied. I gather her ladyship lies down to rest every afternoon, so the lovers arranged a tryst in St Paul’s Cathedral.”
That brought a burst of laughter from Lady Aulden. “Good heavens, what a place to choose for a clandestine meeting, all among the memorial tablets and marble monuments. Well-chosen, though, since no one of their acquaintance would ever be there on a weekday. Unless, of course, they have clerical connections and might run into some Canon of a cousin.”
“They did not do so. They met again at Vauxhall, each with their own party, but they managed to slip away. Love finds a way,” he added sententiously, earning himself a quizzing look from his sister.
“It is all most improper, but a few snatched meetings can hardly be a basis for being certain of a lasting attachment.”
“There was no doubt in either of their minds as to that. By their third meeting, he had asked her to marry him. That was when the cold light of the reality of their situation hit them. They both knew for sure that they would never have their parents’ permission to marry. So, once their minds were made up, I simply helped Ranulph to make his arrangements.”
“Had you no scruples about their taking such an outrageous course? A runaway marriage is so very deplorable. Did you not think it would be better to make a clean breast of it and try if the Latymers and Congreves could be made to see sense?”
“Julia was convinced that if her father got so much of a hint of her having fallen in love with Ranulph he would send her straight back to their country estate. She is young to be doing the season, and so she was afraid that it might be a year or more before she would be allowed back to London. Ranulph, for his part, did broach the subject with his father, who threatened to cut him off if he ever saw Julia again. It was probably not an empty threat, since Ranulph has two brothers and has always rubbed up against his father. Sons have been disinherited before and Ranulph has very little tact. He’s never known how to handle his father. Of course, he must inherit the title, but the estate isn’t entailed; that and the money could easily go to his next brother.”
“So you arranged their elopement? That was a shocking step to take.”
“Yes, was it not? But I don’t know why you think that I arranged it.”
Sally pursed her lips. “As if I haven’t known Ranulph since you and he were at Eton together. If it had been left to Ranulph, he would have forgotten his purse or neglected to fix a time or some such thing. You have often said that although he was a brave soldier in battle, it was a good thing that he sold out, for he was no good at the with a more prosaic aspects of command. Whereas you—”
“Whereas I have a reasonable head on my shoulders and know how to make sure things get done.”
“You still haven’t answered my question as to why you did it. Ranulph is a friend of yours, to be sure, but this was going beyond friendship. And what of the unfortunate Miss Darcy, did you not consider her position, her feelings? Everyone in town was in hourly expectation of their engagement being announced, and there would certainly have been no objection to that match from Sir Roger. Was it not very hard on her?”
Marcus said, “That would not have been a happy marriage. Take my word for it, Ranulph was not the husband for her.”
“Did you tell her so?”
“I tried to, but she was so very angry.”
“Angry! I should think so indeed.” Lady Aulden shot her brother a keen look and then said, in the same calm way, “She is in town again, staying with her Darcy cousins in Dover Street. I wonder if she has been invited to the ball. Can she have got over this whole business? There was so much gossip about her and she is not such a young girl, so to be almost jilted, to be cast aside for a chit must be hard. She is four-and-twenty, if I remember rightly. Almost on the shelf.”
“At four-and-twenty? Nonsense.”
“She may still do well for herself in the marriage stakes, for I hear that Lord Gilbride is come to town. I fancy he was quite epris in that direction, and I heard he made a visit to the family in Northumberland over the winter.”
Marcus frowned. “Gilbride?”
“It would be an excellent match for her; he’s a far bigger catch than Ranulph Latymer.”
“What makes you think that she is hanging out for a bigger fish?”
“There will be pressure from her family to marry, since there is a younger sister on the brink of making her come out. Lord Gilbride is the kind of man who would make any woman a good husband.”
Marcus pushed his plate away. “Gilbride is a good sort of man, but he is too staid for Serafina Darcy. She is clever, and most men do not like a clever woman.”
Sally gave a sly smile. “It seems that Lord Gilbride does. He rarely comes to town, but he has opened up his house and intends to be here for the season.”
“Does he, by God?” Marcus pushed back his chair, glanced at the clock on the wall and gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. “I have duties to attend to.”
“The invitation to the Latymers’ ball includes you; I mentioned to Lady Latymer that you were expected back, and Ranulph will want to see you. Shall I accept on your behalf?”
“Yes.”
As he was going out of the door, his sister called after him, “It is to be a Venetian ball. We are requested to go as characters from the Carnevale in Venice.
Marcus stopped at the door, frowning. “What, another masked ball? I would have thought those two families were done with masquerades. What a bore. Still, one is not obliged to wear a costume.”
She said, “Should you wish to do so, your grandfather’s evening clothes can be brought out. You would look the part without seeming ridiculous.”
Another frown, and Marcus was gone. Lady Aulden, left alone in the breakfast parlour, spread some jam onto a piece of toast took a bite and sat back in her seat thinking and marvelling at what a schemer her brother was. It would make him a good diplomatist, no do
ubt. Lord Gilbride was clearly not the only one with his eye on Miss Darcy. She brushed the crumbs from her dress and stood up. Life might be going to become quite exciting, and if it ended in her brother finally finding himself a wife, she would be well pleased.
Chapter Ten
When they returned to Dover Street after their visit to the shops, Mr Darcy was at home and his reaction to the Latymers’ invitation was exactly as Elizabeth had foretold. He picked up the elegantly engraved card and said, “What folly is this? A Venetian ball? Good heavens, why?”
Elizabeth said, “Costume balls are all the rage.”
“So we are expected to deck ourselves out as characters from the Carnival in Venice? I never heard such nonsense. An ordinary masquerade is bad enough, where there is merely a question of a domino and ridiculous mask upon one’s face. It seems to me entirely uncivilised for people in company to wish to cover any part of their face. It goes against all the normal order of social intercourse. But to be asked or expected to dress up in the fashion of our forefathers—no, that is too much to ask of any man. We shall decline; I do not wish to go.”
Serafina’s heart rose.
She knew it was only putting off the evil moment when she must meet Ranulph Latymer and his wife, but to do so at such a ball as this would be a distressing echo of the masked ball last year, when in the space of a few minutes her life had been turned upside down.
Elizabeth was having none of it. Serafina could see she sympathised with Mr Darcy’s view, but on this subject she felt she had reason on her side. “We must attend, it is impossible for us to refuse without causing offence. And apart from the bonds of friendship, for you have known the Latymers forever, there is the political aspect.”
“I shall post down to Pemberley, I believe there are some matters there that require my urgent attention. You need not come with me, Elizabeth, and indeed I would not impose another long journey upon Serafina after she is only just arrived in London. You may both go to the ball, you can make my excuses.”
The smile hovering on Elizabeth lips showed she knew this was mere talk, that his sense of duty would take Mr Darcy to the ball.
Serafina’s heart sank.
Mr Darcy bowed to the inevitable with a frown, a shrug, and then a smile for Elizabeth. “You are right, of course.”
Always courteous and kind to a guest, Mr Darcy was nonetheless a forthright man, not one to beat about the bush or pretend things were other than they were. He tapped the invitation with a finger and looked at his cousin. “The invitation comes for you as well of course, Serafina. How do you feel about this? It will be difficult for you; there was a degree of intimacy between you and young Mr Latymer that may make it an awkward occasion for you.”
Elizabeth said, “Serafina should go. It will cause comment and gossip if she does not, when it is known that she is in London. To turn down the invitation formally would be to make a point of it; the alternative is that she finds herself indisposed that evening, but who is going to believe that?”
“Very true,” Mr Darcy said. “Convenient indispostions must always arouse suspicion among our friends and well-wishers.” He went on dryly, “In that case it is to be hoped that you do not actually have any kind of illness that evening. You must take care to keep out of the way of any colds; do not succumb to the headache, do not eat anything that disagrees with your constitution. I’m afraid you will have to do appear to be in glowing health and in the best of spirits and in good looks. That is the way to stop any tittle-tattle.”
Serafina managed a smile, and said, “Do you suppose there will be tittle-tattle, after a year?”
Mr Darcy said, “If Ranulph Latymer and the new Mrs Latymer had been in town at all at the end of last season or for any of the winter months, then there would be no novelty to them. But they have not been, they have been abroad and in the country, which means that this is their first appearance in society in nearly a year. Interest will be high, people will be eager to see how they go on. Curiosity, you know is one of humanity’s strongest impulses. Once the ball is over, then the subject will be closed, it will be nothing out of the ordinary, and the interest of the idle and the foolish will return to some other topic for conversation and gossip.”
He added, in a kindly way, “Do not let my refusal to wear anything other than my usual evening clothes dissuade you from dressing as one of the carnival characters. It may be better if you do so, because then it will appear you are entering into the spirit of the thing. Nobody will care whether I and Elizabeth are in costume or not. You, however, should take care to do nothing to occasion the slightest degree of comment.”
“You are quite right,” Elizabeth said. “Serafina, should you not want to outlay the cost of a gown of that kind, let me make a suggestion. The present Mr Darcy may not care for dressing up, but his forebears certainly did, and previous generations were fond of theatricals and charades and so on. So there is a press full of clothes suitable for such pursuits, and I know that they include some gorgeous apparel from when the late Mr Darcy and Lady Anne were in Venice during the carnival season. If you are happy for me to do so, I shall send to Pemberley directly. The housekeeper may see what we have, and if it is despatched to town immediately there will be time for a costume to be altered for you.”
Serafina was glad of that at least, for while she never grudged money spent on clothes, she had a feeling that any gown she wore upon this occasion would be one she would not want to wear again, just as she had never again put on the evening gown she’d worn to that last ball, even though it had been one of her favourites. When she came home on that fateful night, she had stepped out of it with a shudder and said to her maid, “Take it away, dispose of it, I do not want it.”
Chapter Eleven
The costumes were duly sent up to town from Pemberley and Serafina, trying on a gown in the style of the previous century, thought that the creature looking back at her from the cheval glass was a perfect stranger. This gown was in scarlet and black; colours a single young woman would never usually wear. The housekeeper had sent a Columbine costume, but the moment Elizabeth set eyes on it, she said it would not do.
Serafina agreed. “No, I would look ridiculous in it and I have no desire to make a fool of myself. And I dare say there will be dozens of young misses in that costume. That green gown won’t do either. It is a bilious shade, however did they wear such a colour? Besides, it won’t fit, it must have been made for a short and slender Darcy and there is no way it could be altered to fit me. The scarlet dress is striking, of course, but I shall wear the blue taffeta.”
“There is note pinned to it, did you read it. The housekeeper says it was your grandmother’s.”
That pleased Serafina, since she took after her Darcy grandmother. But how odd it felt. The blue taffeta gown had a corseted waist, wide skirts and a low neck with a fichu; how very different from today’s fashion for high-waisted gowns.
Her maid was delighted by the dress, tugging at a seam here, pinning it there. She promised to alter it so Serafina would be able to breathe in it; how could their ancestors bear to wear such corseting?
“And now,” Elizabeth said, “We must go to the mask-maker and choose masks for ourselves and for Mr Darcy. That will be an easy choice, something as plain as possible in black is what he wants. Since he will discard it at the first opportunity, we need not be too particular about that purchase. Ask your maid to give you a scrap of the taffeta of the blue gown to take with you, so that we may match it.”
Srafina was enchanted by the mask-maker’s shop. It had a bow window, filled with masks of every description, from delicate lace to the sinister beaked one of the plague doctor.
“Whoever would go as such a character?” Serafina exclaimed as they stepped inside the tiny shop to the accompaniment of a merry jingle of bells.
“You will surprised,” Elizabeth said. “There is something about dressing up that can be revealing as to our natures. Men who normally dress in the most sober of clothes w
ill be at the ball in velvet and lace; some portly nobleman is bound to come as Harlequin and others will come all in white as Pulcinello, looking as though they were ready for bed. It is easier for the ladies, for the costumes are not so eccentric and distinctive.”
“You do not intend to wear a costume?”
“No, since Mr Darcy does not. But I intend to wear the prettiest mask I can find.”
The mask-maker bowed his previous customers out of the door, two women who were acquainted with Elizabeth and greeted her with pleasant remarks about the inclement weather, the uncommon numbers of people in town, and, with a look at Serafina, “Oh, your cousin is it not? Miss Darcy?”
The two women exchanged quick looks and Serafina could read their thoughts.
She held out her hand, dropped a slight curtsy and retreated while Elizabeth said, “Yes, Serafina stays with us for the season this year.”
“And you are here to buy masks for the Latymer ball?” one of them enquired, with another look in Serafina’s direction. “Of course, we are all agog to see young Mr Latymer and his bride. You know Mr Latymer well, I believe, Miss Darcy.”
Elizabeth smiled, said she must not keep them, and turned away in a manner so deliberate that they had no choice but to leave the shop.
“Detestable creatures,” Elizabeth said. “Do not let them bother you, my dear. Idle tongues and cold hearts. Now, bring out your taffeta sample and let us see what Mr Busoni can do for us.”
Mr Busoni, who had fled Venice when Napoleon took over that city, was delighted to assist the ladies. Boxes of mask were brought down, and while he was happy to pull out ones that suited his customers’ requirements, he couldn’t resist showing off some of his pieces de resistance.
Serafina was enchanted by one of these, an extravagant confection of scarlet and black, lace and feathers. “Look, Lizzy, with feathers to go in the hair as well.”
Mr Busoni urged her to try it on and tied the ribbons for her and then held up an oval mirror for her to admire the effect
Mr Darcy Requests the Pleasure Page 18
