Darcy thought it would be rude to do anything else but sit in the chair opposite, so that is what he did. ‘It is really not a serious matter, at least not where I am concerned. I wondered if you knew much of Almack’s. Specifically how I might go about securing access to that place for the remainder of the season.’
‘Almack’s? Darcy, I am not sure I heard you correctly. Do you mean the place where people go to dance and meet young ladies?’
Darcy nodded. ‘The very same. I attended the last ball.’
Bingley’s eyes widened in utter disbelief. ‘Did you? And how did you find it? Darcy I must be mistaken, for I was sure I recalled hearing you declare your absolute disinterest in going there. I have only been there on a handful of occasions and I imagine I would be denied a voucher if I were to apply.’ He said this without an ounce of resentment or embarrassment. ‘I did not think it would be to your taste, dear fellow, since the whole object of attending is to dance with young ladies. There is not much that can be said to recommend the refreshments, certainly.’
‘I would have to agree on that front.’
‘Well then I must ask why you are interested in the place.’
Darcy hesitated. He had never found himself in the position of having to explain such feelings before and he was confused as to how to proceed. A moment later, he was chiding himself for his hesitation. After all, was it not a simple matter of protecting a young lady from those who sought to exploit her? It was nothing more complicated than that and he had nothing to feel embarrassed about.
‘There is a young lady, newly arrived in London. I fear she shall find herself at the mercy of every cad in town if I do not act.’
Bingley frowned. ‘Does she not have a chaperone?’
‘I have met the chaperone and that is part of the problem. The young lady herself seems wise for her age, but the mother—the chaperone—is excitable and foolish. I would like to attend the ball next week to ensure she does not fall prey to one of the more undesirable elements of society.’
‘But Darcy. Almack’s is not the kind of place that allows just anyone admittance. I myself have only been able to attend on such occasions that I was the guest of a noble friend. Only connected and well-mannered gentlemen can be in attendance and even those traits are not sufficient by themselves to gain entry.’
Darcy frowned. ‘My dear Bingley, we both know a sizeable number of young men who give the impression of being well-mannered and bred and who do not possess a scruple between them. They are the sort of charming fellows who can effortlessly gain entry to any assembly of their choosing. And those are the sort I am concerned about.’
‘You are right, I suppose,’ Bingley said with a smile. ‘Why is it that you are so concerned for this young lady’s welfare?’
Darcy hesitated again before telling himself there was no need to do so. ‘Well she is not accustomed to London society. She inherited a vast fortune quite suddenly and unexpectedly. Those of us who have grown up in such circumstances are rather more adept at fending off the more opportunistic sorts, as it were.’
‘Yes, I suppose that is true now that you mention it. All the same, I am afraid I am of no help. As I said, I am not considered a noble enough prospect on my own account, but you, my friend, ought to have no problem at all in gaining entry. I believe it is customary to seek an audience with one of the patronesses, who will surely favour you with a voucher.’
Darcy nodded and Bingley went on to tell him all that he knew about the place and its customs. Darcy was heartened when Bingley got around to listing the patronesses he could recall, for he recognised one of the names and suspected he was a distant relative of that lady’s husband on his mother’s side.
Chapter Eleven
On the other side of the ornate walnut door, Miss Caroline Bingley was not so satisfied with the conversation she had overheard between Mr. Darcy and her brother. To hear him declare Baroness Downing a relation as if it were nothing… well, it cut her to the bone in the context in which she had heard it.
For unlike her brother, Miss Bingley had not accepted Darcy’s explanation for his interest in Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It was too implausible to be true. After all, he knew nothing of the woman and she knew enough about Fitzwilliam Darcy to know he was an incorrigible snob and would sooner give up his estate than set himself up as the champion of a humble country gentlewoman he had no feelings for.
No, Miss Bingley thought, for some reason Darcy has developed a fondness for the sharp, unfashionably dressed young lady.
Her jaw was clenched so tight that it was beginning to cause an ache in her head.
And all this despite the fact that he had never paid much heed to me, when I am an endlessly more suitable prospect than she is!
Miss Bingley moved away when she heard stirrings inside the room. It would not do to be caught eavesdropping outside her brother’s library.
All she could think was how angry she felt at Miss Bennet’s incursion into her life. Had she, Caroline, not treated the young woman with kindness and good grace? And to see her kindness repaid first with a sort of sharp distrust and now with the ultimate act of treachery—she had set her sights on Darcy, the man who had been Caroline’s own object of affection for more than a year now!
It was not right!
She hurried up the stairs knowing she would not be able to hide her anger if she encountered Mr. Darcy. And it was important that he always see her at her kindest and most good humoured.
She gritted her teeth as she entered her suite of rooms. The whole object of her calling on Miss Elizabeth Bennet had been to ensure her own goodness was indisputable. Of course, Miss Elizabeth had not known that so by rights she ought to have reacted with gratitude and a willingness to come under Caroline’s guidance.
But no!
She was almost in tears as she threw open the upper drawer of her dresser and sought her little address book.
Who did Eliza Bennet think she was, acting in such a treacherous manner? And to her only friend in London, no less!
Miss Bingley found the book. It took some effort to retrieve it with her hands shaking as badly as they were, but she eventually did.
She stood and stared at it for a couple of moments as she ran through a mental list of her acquaintances and wondered who was the best placed to assist in this worrying matter.
She knew the addresses of her closest friends and her sister from memory, of course, but all the others had been stored in that little book. She had long known the importance of having a web of people she could call on to assist when she needed. With that in mind, she had always gone to great lengths to ingratiate herself with her social betters; tolerating their condescension and always sending them little gifts even when she could ill afford to do so and knew that she was unlikely to receive anything in return. No, it had been worth it, she had told herself, in order to build a list of people she could call on for help.
And Caroline Bingley most certainly needed assistance now.
Chapter Twelve
The first indication Elizabeth Bennet had that something had gone wrong was her mother’s uncharacteristic silence. A note had been delivered from Lady Guernsey, one of the most influential women in London society. Mrs. Bennet had been close to fainting when it was handed to her. She had gasped and muttered to herself as she retreated back to the sofa in the drawing room to find out what honour was being bestowed on them now.
‘Mama?’ Lizzy whispered, looking cautiously at Jane who had not seemed to notice the strange change in their mother’s mood.
All that changed in an instant then. Mrs. Bennet let out such a terrible wail that the maid stoking the fire almost leapt out of her skin. The poor girl apologised profusely, though none of the other occupants of the room paid her much heed.
They were too busy rushing to tend to their mother, who had turned such a frightful shade of pale that her skin was practically green.
‘Mama, what is it?’ Lizzy cried, taking her mother’s hand and discove
ring to her alarm that it was cold, clammy and lifeless. ‘Please!’
But Mrs. Bennet was in no state to explain the cause of her alarm. Her eyes flickered open and closed, and Jane was left with no choice but to dispatch the maid to retrieve the smelling salts.
‘They are probably in the parlour,’ Lizzy said quietly. ‘From the last time.’
But she was not as calm as she sounded. She had seen her mother suffer attacks of the nerves on many occasions, but she had never seen this. More worryingly, it had clearly been set off by the contents of the note she had just received. Lizzy was convinced of this because their mother had been in good spirits all morning.
‘Mama, please tell me what the note says. What could it possibly contain to send you into such a state of alarm?’
Mrs. Bennet appeared to have heard the question, for she looked at her second eldest daughter and it seemed she tried to say something, but no words came out of her mouth. She buried her head in her hands again and sobbed in the most heart-wrenching fashion.
This time, it was Jane who looked seriously at Lizzy. Her gaze passed from Lizzy to their mother’s hands and Lizzy knew what her sister was thinking. She reached forward and tried to prize the sheet from between her mother’s fingers.
It did not budge.
Not only that, but she saw to her alarm that the thick paper had become soggy in places from Mrs. Bennet’s tears and it threatened to simply melt away if Lizzy put too much pressure on it. Since the bulk of it was clamped between their mother’s fingers, all they could do was wait until she composed herself enough to tell them what was wrong.
* * *
That took more than half an hour. By the time Mrs. Bennet recovered enough to tell the girls, Lizzy and Jane had taken to pacing around the room, so impatient were they to find out what had gone on.
‘Oh, Lizzy!’ her mother cried as the girls completed what must have been their twentieth circuit of the room. Though vast, it was not big enough to keep a walker’s interest for very long and Elizabeth had the most frightful sensation of being trapped on a sinking ship.
She spun around and hurried over to their mother.
‘Mama, what is it? Please tell me. You must not worry. As I have told you before, the fortune I have been left offers us a degree of freedom we have not known before. Therefore it cannot be as bad as you think!’
‘But Lizzy, it is worse!’ Mrs. Bennet buried her head in her hands again and Elizabeth wondered if they would ever find out what had gone on. Thankfully, though, it appeared she had finally run out of tears. She sniffed a few times into her monogrammed handkerchief and looked up at her eldest two daughters (the younger girls had long since taken their leave for more tranquil surroundings).
They waited.
Mrs. Bennet sniffed a few more times and blew her nose with the same force and volume as one might have expected from a ship’s horn. ‘Lady Guernsey has written to say…’ The corners of her mouth turned down. ‘Oh, my girls. It is perfectly polite, of course, but one can read between the lines. We are no longer wanted.’
‘No longer wanted? What in the world…’ Elizabeth fell silent as the truth dawned on her. ‘Ah.’
She took the note and found the expansive script had bled and blurred from her mother’s tears.
‘Our voucher to Almack’s has been rescinded. Lady Guernsey says it is due to a terrible oversight which meant we were granted entry when they had already surpassed their member count for the season, but…’ Her face fell.
‘Perhaps it is true,’ Jane whispered. ‘Perhaps it was all an error.’ But even she looked doubtful.
Elizabeth turned and paced away. They had been granted entry as a result of her mother’s approach to Lady Castell, who had been kind and hospitable to them since their arrival on account of the fact that she was the Earl’s godmother. Lady Castell was one of the patronesses of Almack’s and she had not hesitated in allowing them admittance.
Lady Castell was also a formidable woman, who one imagined was not inclined to make mistakes. Thus there had to be another reason for their exclusion from the place after she had granted them vouchers.
‘I hope you are happy, Lizzy,’ Mrs. Bennet snapped. ‘You did not want to go there at all. Your wish has now been granted—we will not be able to go again and no doubt we shall be shunned from polite society when they hear our vouchers have been taken away. Who would wish to associate with a family who has been cast out by Lady Guernsey?’
Lizzy spun around, her mouth dry. Her mother’s words were quite true, of course—she had protested against going there and being paraded about in the hope of finding a husband. So why was she so disappointed about being denied access to that awful place in future?
She shook her head. Surely it had nothing to do with the diffident man she had danced the first dance with; the man who had spoken to her with such appalling coolness and indifference?
No. It could not be.
She told herself it had more to do with the fact that they would face certain ridicule now. Especially after her mother had told so many people about their vouchers. Mrs. Bennet was right—they would surely be shunned by anyone even remotely respectable.
That was the whole of it.
It still did not explain the sense of misery that came over her at that moment.
Chapter Thirteen
Darcy entered the vast room and looked around. He was early, as was his wont, so he was not too surprised when he scanned the crowd already in attendance and found her absent. Avoiding the gazes of the assembled young ladies, he crossed the room and passed the ropes that separated the area for dancing. He had hoped to find a familiar face in the crowds of young men, but the only one he recognised was Lord Henry.
‘Ah, Darcy! You are fonder of this place than you let on!’
He winced. He had not anticipated seeing Lord Henry here. ‘Yes, I suppose it has its charms.’
His old friend winked salaciously and Darcy tried to stop his lip from curling in disgust. ‘Oh, that it does, Darcy. Such a collection of young ladies all intent on marrying well—I cannot think of anywhere I would rather spend my time.’
Darcy made a promise to himself then that he would never allow his darling sister Georgie within a mile of this place. And Lord Henry was not the worst of them! No, all but the most foolish chaperones easily saw through Lord Henry’s scant charm—he did little to hide his true nature. It was the ones who did a good job of pretending to be honourable that Darcy worried about.
He kept one eye on the door as they spoke. In truth, he barely paid attention to a word Lord Henry uttered, so determined was he to speak to her as soon as she entered.
His friend was not so unobservant that he failed to notice Darcy was distracted.
‘I say, Darcy. Who is it you are watching for?’
‘I am not watching for anyone. I have no plans to meet anyone here.’
Lord Henry laughed. ‘You are watching the door as a young lady might watch an unmarried duke, old chap. Come on now, you can tell me. We go back years, after all.’
‘That we do,’ Darcy muttered. ‘But I am afraid you are mistaken. I am not…’
‘Ah!’ Lord Henry cried before he could finish his statement. ‘It is that young countrywoman whose wealth has so recently been elevated, is it not!’
Darcy did not at all appreciate the volume at which his friend declared this. He looked around with dismay, wondering who had overheard the indiscreet utterance. There was no sense in appealing to Lord Henry’s tact or discretion, for he possessed neither.
‘It is not, as it happens.’
‘Ah, just as well.’
Darcy was at first relieved that his friend appeared to have allowed the topic to slide. His relief very soon gave way to confusion. Lord Henry had spoken effusively of the young lady the last time they spoke—what could have caused him to change his opinion?
‘Why do you say that?’ Darcy tried hard to keep his voice light, but he feared the full depth of his concern was
evident. Nevertheless, he was worried enough to continue asking about her without care for who heard him. ‘What has happened to her?’
Lord Henry chuckled. ‘I thought you did not care?’
Darcy shook his head. ‘I simply wondered. It sounded as if you had an amusing anecdote to share. If I am mistaken, forgive me.’
‘You are not mistaken, Darcy. It is all rather amusing as you suspected. You see, I have heard the most delicious tale that truly illuminates the extent some young ladies will go to in order to remove their enemies—or rivals, I ought to say—from polite company. The Bennet girls had been favoured with membership by their association with Lady Castell, despite the humble background from whence they came.’
Darcy nodded, feeling his stomach churn quite uncomfortably at the prospect of what he was about to hear. ‘Some young lady was enraged by her own exclusion and sought to damage Miss Eli—the Miss Bennets’ reputations.’
‘Not exactly. You see, my sister Alice is something of a favourite of Lady Guernsey. She recounted this to me and we had a frightfully good laugh over it all. A young lady approached her and begged her help in removing the Bennet girls from Almack’s altogether. She concocted some tale to explain it, but Alice suspects it is all down to a rivalry over some young man.’
The hairs on Darcy’s arms stood on end as if a sudden chill had blown through the room. ‘Which one of the sisters did she object to, do you know?’ He had not wished to be indiscreet, but he had to know. It seemed vitally important that he know, even though he could not explain quite why it was important.
‘I do not know. The one who inherited the Earl’s money, perhaps.’
‘And you say your sister agreed to help this cruel young woman?’
Darcy’s heart sank as Lord Henry’s eyes lit up with amusement. This time he vowed he would avoid his lordship no matter how close their paths came to crossing in the future. ‘Yes, of course. It is terrific sport. Alice has grown tired of balls and dancing. She is often approached for favours and she delights in causing trouble.’ He laughed and Darcy looked away, miserable.
The Last to Know Page 5
