The Lady's Jewels

by Perpetua Langley

  Darcy nodded and picked up the second letter that had come for him. It was from Lady Castlereagh and he expected it to be filled with the same information communicated by Quinn.

  He tore it open and read.

  My Dear Darcy—

  I know you will have heard all about it from Mr. Quinn so I will not rehash the circumstances of Wickham’s capture. I only wish you to know a few certain facts.

  Freddie is here and I will be much obliged if you escort him back to Eton.

  Georgiana is perfectly recovered from her ordeal and will accompany me to London. I take Miss Elizabeth Bennet with me also. Your aunt has been here, insulted Miss Bennet terribly and been thrown out of the house by me. I pray you do not hold that particular circumstance against me, but with all due respect, the lady is a harridan. Georgiana is not aware that her aunt has been here, as I did not see the point of informing her of it.

  You know me to be a dear friend. I do not know precisely what has occurred between you and Miss Bennet, but I find it exceedingly silly that you are not engaged to the lady, as she is certainly your match.

  You know my address, in case you should wish to find us.

  Your dear friend,

  Amelia Stewart

  Netherfield was a hive of activity, though it being only ten o’clock in the morning and Lady Castlereagh still abed. Elizabeth had already received her cases of clothes from Longbourn and a note from her mother with strict instructions to be on the lookout for single gentlemen. Mrs. Bennet pointed out that London was full of them, Lady Castlereagh was certain to know all of them, and she would be exceedingly vexed if her daughter was to come home without one.

  Elizabeth wrote one last letter to Jane before her departure, while Mr. Quinn sat in front of the fire. She had already written to Charlotte earlier and was pleased to see her carriage roll to a stop outside the window. She had hoped her friend would come to see her off.

  Charlotte was shown into the drawing room and approached, as Mr. Quinn leapt from his chair.

  He bowed low as Charlotte grasped Elizabeth’s hand. “Mr. Quinn, Lizzy,” she said.

  Mr. Quinn said, “Miss Lucas.” He stood motionless, seeming at a loss for words, which was not a state Elizabeth was accustomed to seeing him in. His waistcoat, depicting mice driving four-in-hands, did not appear to match his rather somber demeanor.

  Charlotte blushed, which was not a state Elizabeth had often seen her friend experience, Charlotte being far too sensible and practical to be prone to bouts of blushing.

  Heavens, Elizabeth thought, from the look of them it might be well if she were to find something to take her away. Fortunately, the footman had just been called away.

  “I’ll just go see Mrs. Marshon about tea,” she said. “I shan’t be a moment.”

  Elizabeth hurried from the room, fully intending to be away for more than a moment. She let herself into the now-abandoned war room and sat in a chair by the window.

  So much had happened in the last few days that she’d hardly had time to think of it all. Wickham’s machinations and his ultimate arrest should have been what captured her thoughts, but it was not. It was Mr. Darcy’s proposal and Lady Catherine’s visit.

  How on earth had Elizabeth Bennet come to admire a man who looked down upon her? She had no trouble gathering how all the Darcy family would view her, thanks to Lady Catherine’s very blunt assessment. Miss Darcy was the exception, but then Miss Darcy was but fifteen and might change her views over time. She was a darling girl, but even a darling girl might be swayed by those closest to her.

  It seemed unfair to be judged so! Why should she be judged harshly? She was a gentleman’s daughter. Her father might not have a title, the Bennets’ might not be rich, but they were respectable.

  Until Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth had harbored rather vague ideas about rank. After all, old Viscount Trembly had treated the Bennets will all the respect in the world. Yet, Mr. Darcy did not have a title and he was to be held above her. She had also been fairly liberal with rules of conduct and had depended more on her own judgment than what would be usual in a lady. She knew she had been influenced by her father, who took a rather relaxed approach to life.

  Elizabeth had the uncomfortable feeling of not measuring up. Of not being good enough. Though she knew that two people’s opinions of her should not influence her own view of herself, their opinions hung over her like a pall. Nothing remotely like it had ever been felt by her and she dearly wished she’d never met Mr. Darcy. Now he would forevermore hang back in her thoughts and she would carry that feeling of never being certain how society received her.

  For all that, though, she was not willing to pretend to be something she was not. Someday, perhaps far in the future, her memories of this period of her life would have faded to comfortable dullness and then she might meet a gentleman who wholly approved of her. She could only hope that was the case. Were it not to be, then Mrs. Bennet might very well find herself right and Elizabeth would spend her days as Jane’s companion—looking after children and making herself useful.

  Whatever was to happen, she felt as if she was suddenly older and wiser, and not happy to be so.

  Elizabeth sighed and stood. She had best return to the drawing room. She only hoped that Mr. Quinn had managed to speak the words that she was certain he wished to speak. If she could not be happy, she could only wish everybody else was.

  Charlotte and Mr. Quinn stood by the window. They stood shockingly close to each other and Elizabeth had no doubt that Mr. Quinn had asked.

  They seemed surprised to see her, as they apparently had forgotten that she had ever been there at all.

  Mr. Quinn said, “I will go and see about…a matter,” and fairly ran from the room, his cheeks pink as a sunrise.

  Elizabeth hurried to Charlotte. “Well?” she said.

  Charlotte took her hands into her own and said, “I know you have guessed already, Lizzy. He has asked and I have accepted. We will go to Lucas Lodge after I see you off and he will speak to my father.”

  “I am so glad for you, Charlotte. I understand from Jimmy that he has quite the comfortable house and I believe you were right in thinking your life will be exceedingly interesting.”

  “Indeed, it will,” Charlotte said. “I am not to be left out of anything unless I wish it. Lady Castlereagh’s jewels are only the first mystery that will occupy my mind.”

  “And you do adore him?” Elizabeth asked playfully. “You do not marry him only to go on solving crimes?”

  “I do adore him and he adores me,” Charlotte said. “We are to go on very cheerfully. I have resolved not to mention a word about the waistcoats and he has resolved to discuss St. James to my father’s heart’s content.”

  “Ah, your father. Will he be expecting a visit by Mr. Quinn, or is it to be wholly a surprise?”

  “He will not be surprised,” Charlotte said laughing. “Mr. Quinn, Horatio, spent a deal of time singing my praises at the picnic. Rather excessively so, as my father pointed out afterward.”

  “And Sir William approves?”

  “He does, because he sees that I am happy and, for all my father’s airs, that is all he has ever wanted.”

  “I am delighted, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said, “Both you and Jane to be so happily settled when just months ago we picnicked on Pumpkin Hill, lamenting that we might never find love.”

  Charlotte squeezed Elizabeth’s hands. “I will be entirely satisfied when Jane and I can count you among us. I had hoped, that is I thought, well never mind, your time will come soon enough. I only pray you’ll reside somewhere in the vicinity of London so that when we have an especially difficult case, we may call upon you. It is Horatio’s opinion that, had you been born a man and been so inclined, you might have been one of the great investigators of our time.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Well, that is something at least. Now, come and help me arrange the last of my things for my trip. I will not often have you to myself anymore and must take advantage of the t
ime we have.”

  An hour after Lady Castlereagh, Miss Darcy and Elizabeth had set off for London, Caroline installed herself in the drawing room. Lady Castlereagh had acted as mistress of Netherfield, though by rights it should have been Caroline all along. Now, it would be.

  Freddie had come in, and then made a poor excuse to go out again. Caroline supposed she was to know that the boy did not approve of her. A boy! A stupid boy. Still, she knew Darcy to be fond of Freddie Stewart and so must find a way to make herself agreeable. Perhaps she could engage him in a conversation about Miss Darcy. The young man had certainly looked forlorn enough when her carriage had rolled down the drive.

  Caroline had been exceedingly put out to have been forced to stand on the drive and wave off the women who had not deemed to include her in the trip, smiling the entire time. All three were insufferable. She cheered herself that it was good riddance. Darcy would return and it would be only Caroline in the house. There would be no short person lurking about as a distraction.

  She had never imagined that Lady Catherine would present herself in person, but she’d been delighted to witness it. That august lady had explained to Miss Bennet that such a match could never be and Caroline was certain Darcy would have heard of it from that Mr. Quinn with the ridiculous waistcoats. Darcy would have, by now, seen the folly of his proposal to Miss Bennet. Caroline’s only concern with Lady Catherine in future was that the lady not discover her own designs on Darcy until it was too late. Then, the old woman could shout to the rafters for as long as she liked.

  A footman let himself in and handed Caroline a letter on a silver salver. It was from Charles. She sighed, it was no doubt a missive directing that she must become Jane Bennet’s closest friend and constant companion.

  She broke the seal.

  Caroline,

  Both Darcy and I are well aware it was you who sent the letter to Lady Catherine. You are not fit to associate with my friends. Pack your things and leave immediately. If you are not gone when I arrive, I will happily throw you out.

  This is the last time you will cause mischief for the people I love most in the world.

  Sadly, as it further speaks to your character, nobody will miss you.

  Your ashamed brother,

  Charles

  Miss Bingley read and re-read the letter, searching it for some hint of the Charles she had known all her life. The Charles who could be manipulated into her point of view. The Charles she had dominated since they were children.

  Where had he gone?

  What was she to do?

  The footman came in with a second salver. Caroline picked up the letter. The footman cleared his throat.

  “Yes?” she said, her voice full of irritation.

  The footman said quietly, “This letter was enclosed in another that was addressed to whoever set hands on it first. As that was me, I opened it. There was directions to deliver this letter to you after the first one. And some other things to be done.”

  “What on earth?” Caroline said, tearing it open.

  Caroline,

  On the off chance that you sit there ruminating on how you might maneuver yourself back into my good graces, a carriage has been readied. Goodbye.

  Charles.

  Caroline heard the clatter of horses on the drive and turned toward the window. Her companion went down the steps and began directing how to pack the luggage. Caroline turned back to the footman.

  “The other directions were to call the carriage and pack up your things,” the footman said. “Shall I fetch your travelling cape?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was not a fortnight after arriving at Grosvenor Square before Tuesday was delivered of six healthy pups. This presented a conundrum, as the first five to arrive were named Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Lady Castlereagh finally named the sixth, the runt of the litter, January.

  There was a notion that all six were to stay in the house permanently, however, a desperate letter arrived from Vienna. Lord Castlereagh begged his loving wife to give them all away and hinted he might not be opposed to the sloth if she did so. Lady Castlereagh wrote back that she would keep just one pup and was delighted with his revised views about the sloth.

  It was planned that all but January were to be given to friends, and that news caused an uproar in the highest echelons of society. Every lady wanted to be gifted with a mastiff pup, as every lady had visions of the great beast lounging in front of her drawing room fire while she causally said to callers, “Ah, yes, that is Wednesday, one of Lady Castlereagh’s.”

  Lady Castlereagh took the matter of who would go where seriously and many a lady discovered that rank alone would not bring her success. There were visits to houses and interviews about where the dog would sleep and interrogations on what it would eat. One particular lady was cut instantly when the word ‘stable’ was uttered.

  After the lucky five were chosen, those ladies were tasked with visiting the house each day for one half hour for the next six weeks to bond with their new family member. Elizabeth spent a great deal of time suppressing her laughter, as she was always passing by the nursery to see a great lady on the floor with a pup in her arms and the other five tearing at the hem of her dress. Monday and Tuesday generally looked upon these proceedings with indulgence and did not seem at all bothered when the ripping of fine fabric was heard.

  Elizabeth found Lady Castlereagh’s house a haven in what had been a storm of emotions. For all its chaos and its animals seemingly in every corner, she and Miss Darcy got on so well together that the days passed in a reassuring calm.

  Lady Castlereagh had been gracious enough to admit a call by Mrs. Gardiner after Elizabeth mentioned she had an aunt and uncle in town. Mrs. Gardiner, being all civility and good sense, found immediate welcome in the house. If her manner were not enough to assure her place, it was furthered discovered to Lady Castlereagh’s delight that Mrs. Gardiner’s father had been learned in exotic animals and she’d inherited all of his books on the subject. Mrs. Gardiner and Lady Castlereagh met with some regularity to review one book or another, and Miss Darcy had even been to the house on Gracechurch Street.

  Miss Darcy was not yet out in wide society and was not to make her curtsy until the following year. Elizabeth claimed she had no wish to be about the town of an evening, so their nights were usually quiet. They would often dine with Lady Castlereagh and then the lady would go to an engagement while she and Miss Darcy read or played the pianoforte in the drawing room. Lady Castlereagh had not pressed Elizabeth to accompany her to various parties and dinners, but she had said that it would not be wise to hide forever.

  Elizabeth was perfectly happy to hide for the time being. She had become fast friends with Georgiana and they now called each other by their given names. At the end of an evening, they would sit on one another’s beds and Elizabeth would try a new style on Georgiana’s hair or they would compare ribbons for a tea dress, or they would even tiptoe to the nursery and admire the five fat and round pups sleeping in a huddle and smaller January sprawled out on top of them. They had, in the beginning, spoken of Wickham and the day he’d found Georgiana alone in the garden, but those conversations had petered out and Elizabeth was glad of it. Her friend had regained her spirits and no longer suffered under a heavy burden of guilt.

  Now, Georgiana’s conversations were much more likely to mention Freddie, and admire how he got on at Eton. Freddie was to arrive for Christmas and it seemed that everyday the arrival grew closer, Miss Darcy’s excitement rose. It was a happy infatuation of the sort a young person was so prone to.

  Perhaps the only instances where Elizabeth’s peace was somewhat jarred were the letters that arrived for Georgiana from Mr. Darcy. He had taken Freddie back to Eton and then stayed with Bingley at Netherfield for a time. Now he was at Pemberley, taking care of estate business before arriving in town for Christmas. Elizabeth had already acquiesced to Lady Castlereagh’s insistence that she stay on for the holiday, and so she knew
she could not avoid Mr. Darcy for too much longer.

  More uncomfortably, there were the times that Georgiana spoke of her hopes for her brother. It did not elude Elizabeth that Georgiana hinted that she would like to find Elizabeth as a sister.

  Elizabeth was certain her friend did not know of the proposal her brother had made or that her aunt had come to Netherfield. She was, most likely, the only person who at been at Netherfield who had not heard of Lady Catherine’s visit. Peggy, who had stayed on as her maid, was fiercely protective and tight-lipped. Elizabeth had seen Peggy come upon two junior maids gossiping about Lady Catherine’s visit in a corridor dangerously near Georgiana’s bedchamber. She’d watched in amusement as Peggy took them by the ears and marched them off, scolding as she went.

  The news from Hertfordshire arrived with regularity. Her mother was at once irate that Elizabeth had not yet sent news of promising single gentlemen seeing as she was in a town full of them and joyous that Jane had secured a gentleman. Mr. Collins stayed on past his planned fortnight and Mrs. Bennet was beginning to believe there might be hope for Mary after all.

  Jane wrote that Mr. Bingley arrived daily, the banns had been read and they would wed in a month. She begged that Elizabeth come home for the wedding, as of course she would.

  Miss Bingley had been sent away and Charles told Jane that it would be unlikely they would ever see much of her. Jane felt she was uncharitable to feel so, but she was glad of it.

  Lydia and Kitty were as unchecked as ever. Jane began to have real concerns about Lydia—she was ill-tempered nearly always now, and at once loud and boisterous and then tired and weeping.

  Charlotte wrote that Mr. Quinn had been accepted readily by Sir William. Her father had taken to theorizing that if the royal family ever had a mystery to be solved, they must call on Quinn. Mr. Quinn rode to Lucas Lodge each morning and stayed on to dinner and Mr. Bingley rode to Longbourn each morning and stayed on to dinner, so it was presumed that Netherfield’s servants were having an easy time of it in the mostly empty house.