The Lady's Jewels

by Perpetua Langley

  “And so we go,” Lady Castlereagh said, laughing.

  The next half hour was a blur. Elizabeth was introduced to more people than she could ever remember. Her dance card rapidly filled. She was asked questions and then congratulated before she could answer them.

  At one point, the crowd of people surrounding her parted like a herd of deer hearing the footfalls of a hunter.

  Lady Castlereagh said, “My dear Brummel, this is Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth curtsied, and rose rather terrified. Mr. Brummel was one of those mythic figures one only heard about—prowling the drawing rooms of London and raising or ruining as he saw fit.

  The room had grown silent and Elizabeth thought one might have heard a pin drop on the far side of it.

  Mr. Brummel raised his quizzing glass and peered at her. “Charming,” he said, and drifted away.

  As far as Elizabeth could tell, this was high praise from Mr. Brummel. She even heard one mama scold her daughter for wearing silk and vow that they must have velvet gowns begun on the morrow.

  The musicians began to tune their instruments, the red velvet ropes were lifted from the doors leading to the ballroom and the crowd began its migration into it.

  “Now, my dear,” Lady Castlereagh said, “Lady Emily will open the dance while I and my other lady patronesses will remove to the balcony overlooking the floor. It is our habit to gather there so we may view the proceedings and ensure that nothing untoward occurs.”

  The lady laughed softly and said, “Though with the state of our refreshments, we are in no danger of any drunkenness unless somebody might be overcome by weak tea or sour lemonade.”

  Sir Harold, a young baronet from Sussex and the first on her card, approached to escort Elizabeth to her place on the dance floor.

  Though Elizabeth had danced her share of country dances, this ball was to be opened by a minuet. She thanked the heavens that Sir William had sometimes demanded it of their master of ceremonies in Meryton, in case their beloved King should ever come by.

  Sir Harold led her in the direction of the top of the ballroom, toward Lady Emily and her very handsome partner, Lord Palmerston.

  “Certainly, Sir Harold,” Elizabeth said, “we do not go so high?”

  Sir Harold nodded. “I have been directed by Lady Emily that we are to be part of her set.”

  Elizabeth flushed. She had much rather been lower down the floor, blending into the sea of couples. A girl of twenty or so glared at her as she went by.

  The music struck up and Lady Emily began. Sir Harold was all good grace and led Elizabeth creditably. She felt she did not do badly, as she did not miss any steps. Though, it was hard not to compare herself to the beautiful Lady Emily Cowper and the dashing Lord Palmerston—those two were as graceful as starlings in flight, each seeming to know the actions of the other ahead of time.

  As the music ended, Elizabeth curtsied, and Sir Harold bowed.

  Elizabeth looked about for her next partner, Lord Graymoor. The rest of the evening would be country dances and she felt very much relieved by it. She had survived the minuet and would now engage in dances she understood far better.

  From the balcony, Lady Castlereagh struck a loud bell. The revelers grew quiet and looked up in surprise.

  She said, “Good evening, friends. Many of you will have been here before and will know it is not my habit to make speeches from the balcony. However, on this night I find it necessary. There is a gentleman here who has gone about things wrongly. There is a lady here who has born the insult of it.”

  Whisperings were all around Elizabeth. It was the crowd’s conclusion that somebody had done something egregious and that particular somebody was about to be publicly thrown out the doors. Whoever he was, his place in society would be momentarily ripped from his hands.

  “Even so,” Lady Castlereagh went on, “these two individuals may find that going about things wrongly and bearing insult are not insurmountable impediments, if only they are rectified. And so I give you, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  Elizabeth’s breath caught. What was this?

  “Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth turned. Mr. Darcy stood before her, his face as red as she presumed her own to be.

  The chattering around her assaulted her ears. “It is Miss Bennet! Why should Mr. Darcy have done wrong by Miss Bennet? Why should Miss Bennet have been insulted? Was it not she who saved his own sister? What has he done?”

  Elizabeth curtsied. “Mr. Darcy.”

  The crowd grew quiet, those closest leaning in to hear what was said so they might repeat it in drawing rooms across London on the morrow.

  “Lady Castlereagh is right,” Mr. Darcy said. “I have gone about things wrongly and you have been insulted.”

  “We will say no more about it, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, hurriedly. Her only wish at this moment was to find an opportunity to flee the room.

  “I must say more about it,” Darcy went on. “I was a fool! I meant to say how I valued you and how honored I would be to have you as my wife. You see? It would be my honor, not your own.”

  The whisperings began again. “He proposed! Heavens, he must have done it very badly if she was insulted by it.”

  “I meant to say,” Darcy continued, “that you are to be held above all others. You are clever and a beauty—"

  “She is very pretty,” somebody in the crowd whispered, “though rather short.” Another answered, “Mr. Brummel did not appear to think so.” “That is true,” said the first.

  “Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, “I knew when I first saw you on your father’s drive that you were meant for me. I simply did not know that I knew it.”

  Elizabeth held a hand up. She must stop him, it was too hard to bear.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, the crowd leaning in ever closer, “I refuse you not because I wish to, but because I must. Do not you see? You would wake up one day and consider that you had, in your own mind, married beneath you. I would wake up one day and realize that my husband was disappointed by his own choice.”

  “But that is just it!” Mr. Darcy said, with passion in his voice. “I have already woken up. It is not that I will wake up and not know my own mind, it is that I have been asleep to my own mind until I met you. That ridiculous list, what a notion! It had nothing to do with my real life, or my real feelings or my real heart. Bingley advised that I examine my heart and speak what was in it and this is what is in it. I shall never wake up to any sort of regret, unless I find myself bereft of Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “So,” Elizabeth said slowly, “you have woken up now? Rather than later?”

  A lady behind Elizabeth whispered, “He says he has woken up. He looks perfectly awake to me.”

  “I have woken now,” Darcy said resolutely. “It has occurred to me that it might be burdensome for you to find yourself married to such a dolt. I can only promise that I will be guided by you in everything.”

  This was more than Elizabeth could have hoped for. The idea that Mr. Darcy would have truly changed his ideas of rank and connection had never occurred to her. It had never seemed possible. And yet here he was…

  “Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, “I ask you for the second, and hopefully better done, time. Will you agree to marry me?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “As you appear to be awake, I will Mr. Darcy.”

  The crowd closest to Elizabeth and Darcy cheered. Word was passed further down the room and those people took up a cheer too.

  Lady Castlereagh once more rang her bell and the room grew quiet. “I was certain it should come out right. Now, Lord Graymoor, where are you? Yes, just there. You are on Miss Bennet’s card for the second. I do not suppose you will mind giving over to Mr. Darcy?”

  Lord Graymoor bowed by way of acquiescence.

  “And Sir James,” Lady Castlereagh said, “you were to take Miss Bennet into supper, such as it is. I pray I can count on you to give over to Mr. Darcy?”

  Sir James nodded, to Lady Castlereagh’s s
atisfaction.

  “Very good,” Lady Castlereagh said. She raised her hand to the musicians. Darcy led Elizabeth to a set of couples formed for the cotillion. The music began.

  Elizabeth could hardly concentrate on the steps. What had happened to her this evening? Was this a dream, from which she would wake and merrily tell Jane of dancing at Almacks and a proposal on the dance floor? And yet, there was Mr. Darcy as real as he ever was. Though, Elizabeth had to admit, he seemed a deal more relaxed than he ever was.

  “I wonder, Miss Bennet,” he said, “if after we are married, I might provide you with a groom with nerves of iron on a very fast horse. You would hardly notice his presence unless you were in need of assistance.”

  “I wonder, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, “will this groom have the liberty to speak his mind?”

  “Not to me,” Darcy said.

  Elizabeth laughed merrily. “I had better make Jimmy that groom you speak of—he is daring on a horse and I may be able to convince him that he should not share his remarkable views with his master. You and I shall go on together happily if we make allowances for our differing temperaments.”

  “I suspect your own temperament will continue to have a good effect on mine,” Darcy said, “though you will never find me deep in conversation in the stables.

  “Heavens,” Elizabeth said, “there has never been anything deep in my conversations with Jimmy. That is the charm of it.”

  And so they went on, talking of this or that and making plans and devising charming schemes, only separated when Elizabeth must honor another partner on her card.

  At supper, which turned out to be dry cake and something masquerading as tea, Mr. Darcy stated he would ride for Longbourn in the morning to seek Mr. Bennet’s permission to marry. Elizabeth teased that he must arrive prepared with strong arguments, as she was her father’s favorite and he would be loathe to part with her.

  They had nearly said goodnight when Lady Castlereagh’s coach rumbled off into the dark streets, but Darcy very cleverly rode alongside and Elizabeth found that, with her window open, they might continue their conversation until they had absolutely arrived at the lady’s door. Lady Castlereagh chased him away then, with all good humor.

  Elizabeth held a candle and knocked softly on Georgiana’s door. She quietly opened it while attempting to scoot Wednesday and Thursday back to the nursery. The pups were sleepy but determined and staggered behind her.

  Elizabeth set the candle on the night table and scooped the two pups into her lap as she sat on the bed next to Georgiana. The girl’s curls draped across her forehead and a book was held tightly in her hand. She had told Elizabeth that she would stay up reading so that she might be awake to hear about the ball, but she had clearly lost that battle.

  Wednesday yipped and Georgiana stirred. She opened her eyes.

  “Elizabeth! Goodness, I fell asleep. The ball. How was the ball? Tell me everything,” she said sleepily.

  Elizabeth smiled. “I cannot tell you everything just now, you are too tired for that. Though I will tell you one thing that might surprise—I am to marry your brother.”

  Georgiana giggled. “I thought so,” she said.

  “How did you think so?” Elizabeth asked, thinking she had expected Georgiana to be far more surprised than she was.

  “Oh, he wrote me all about it,” Georgiana said. “I had already resolved that if you refused him I would debate you all the day long until you changed your mind. But I suppose he did well?”

  “Very well,” Elizabeth said.

  “And now we are to be sisters,” Georgiana said.

  “Yes, we are,” Elizabeth said. “Sisters forevermore. Now, as your elder sister, I say you must go to sleep.” She glanced down at the pups, who were struggling to keep their eyes open. “As must these two, she said. “Your brother is off to Longbourn on the morrow and so we will be at our leisure to examine the entire evening for hours at a time.”

  “Yes,” Georgiana said, snuggling deeper into her bed. “Hours and hours and days and days and years and years with Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth kissed her forehead, picked up Wednesday and Thursday and blew out the candle. She deposited the pups in the nursery and made her way back to her room by the light of the moon.

  The moon was bright that evening. Everything was very bright that evening. The future was particularly bright.

  And later,

  Mr. Bennet did give his permission to Mr. Darcy to marry his favorite daughter. The interview had been fascinating, as he’d heard of all the ways Mr. Darcy had gone wrong that he had now put right. Mr. Bennet was ever encouraged that human nature would not fail to amuse him for all his days.

  Christmas at Lady Castlereagh’s house had been a jolly affair—Darcy was there at all hours and Freddie had brought his natural exuberance to the place. The pups had mastered the stairs, little January showing how it was to be done, and now there were eight mastiffs having the run of the house. Everything of value had to be put away, lest they discover it and gleefully tear it to shreds.

  Jane and Mr. Bingley were married shortly after Christmas. Mrs. Bennet had hoped they would remain in the neighborhood, as Mr. Bingley could bring all sorts of eligible gentlemen to the notice of her unmarried daughters. In the end, though, it was Jane who suggested to her husband that they might look elsewhere. Jane was kindhearted, but she was fiercely protective of her marriage and determined that her husband would not be harassed by Mrs. Bennet. Mr. Bingley had speedily agreed and had located a property in Derbyshire, not overly far from Pemberley.

  Lydia and Mr. Collins were married in a quiet ceremony a week after Jane’s wedding. Elizabeth had felt, at the time, that it was hurriedly done. They had allowed just enough time for the banns. When Lydia was delivered of a healthy baby girl just seven months later, Elizabeth wondered no more. Nobody said anything about it, but the truth was there for all to see. Elizabeth now understood why Lydia had rushed to pledge herself to a man she did not like. She supposed she ought to be angry with her sister, but she could not when she considered that Lydia must be punished every day as she went through life with the lumbering Mr. Collins.

  Darcy and Elizabeth wed in good time, and Georgiana was delighted to have a sister. Elizabeth thought, though, that while Georgiana called her sister, she did act as mother also. Her dear Georgiana would run to her with every little question and viewed Elizabeth as the expert on nearly every subject. There would be no danger of Georgiana falling prey to anybody with less than honorable intentions now, as Elizabeth would hear of it instantly.

  Darcy’s temperament was indeed improved by the example of his wife’s temperament. He did not go about taking things as seriously as he had, and he laughed more, as he had more reason to be happy. He still, though, refused to inquire into the thoughts of any grooms he might run across.

  Four young Darcys would come into the world—two girls and two boys. These were joined by two of Lady Castlereagh’s pups that had come along later, as Monday and Tuesday turned out to be enthusiastic parents. Pemberley in those early years was in a general state of topsy-turvy, which everybody seemed entirely satisfied with.

  Lady Catherine had been incensed by Darcy’s marriage, but as it slowly dawned on her that nobody, least of all Darcy, cared a whit for her ire, she retreated into a more practical stance. There would be no love lost between Mrs. Darcy and Lady Catherine, but they could be civil on the rare occasions when they met.

  Wickham might have hanged for his crimes, but Elizabeth urged both Lady Castlereagh and her husband to speak against it. It would not do to have a death cloud their future. Wickham was ultimately saved from the gallows, though sometimes Elizabeth wondered if his actual fate would be any more pleasant. He’d been shipped off to Australia, which she had heard was a veritable hell on earth.

  Kitty, unbeknownst to anybody, had a serious admirer all along. She married an officer who would do well in his career and advance to Colonel, and then inherit his father’s sizable estat
e when an elder brother died in an accident. It must have further stung Lydia that, in the end, it had been Kitty who’d got the life she’d sought.

  Mary, ever determined to be the intellect of the family, was left alone with Mrs. Bennet. That lady, seeing she only had one daughter left to concentrate on, did concentrate on her. Mary was no match for Mrs. Bennet’s constant surveillance and directives, and finally gave in to her demands. Ceasing to speak only of books and taking up ideas like pretty dresses and bonnets, Mary Bennet came to the notice of a professor at Oxford who visited Meryton. He sought a wife who could speak creditably on any number of subjects and now that Mary had learned to converse rather than lecture, she was precisely what he sought. He might be forgiven for removing the pianoforte from their house, in an effort to keep his dear wife from all musical instruments.

  Lady Castlereagh expanded her collection of exotic animals and a sloth arrived in due course. Mrs. Gardiner continued to lend her various books and the two had taken to meeting regularly to discuss what was to be found in the books and to analyze a new set of notes that Elizabeth’s aunt had discovered in an old trunk.

  Doctor Kellerman had refused Lady Castlereagh’s second offer to set him up in town. He was prevailed upon, however, to act as consultant on particularly difficult cases. When called, he would ride up to London and brusquely inform the patient, usually a Lady So-and So, that she would live. He became exceedingly popular with the physicians who treated the ton, as they had all grown tired of spending hours convincing a lady that she suffered from nothing worse than ennui.

  Caroline went on as her ever-scheming self. However, she did find that fewer and fewer invitations came her way, it perhaps having been put about by Lady Castlereagh that she was an undesirable sort of person. Nearing thirty, she married a merchant who was solely interested in her dowry and thereby excluded herself from the society that she had once so desperately sought to break into.

  Charlotte Quinn and her husband went on to solve many crimes. Charlotte found herself quite happy to spend her dinners examining the facts of a mystery or travel with her husband to interview a witness and sketch a likeness. Mr. Quinn had gained some notoriety for working on the case of Lady Castlereagh’s jewels, and so they were often invited to salons to discuss the matter. Even after children came, Charlotte would assist her husband in his work. They remained steadfast partners all of their lives.