by P. O. Dixon
Elizabeth looked at her mother, pleadingly hoping she would rescue her from the prospect of taking up Mr. Darcy on his invitation. Fortunately, Lady Sophia said, “I am sure my daughter would love to join you, sir, but I have coerced her into remaining by my side until the next act begins.”
Looking up, Elizabeth realized her mother had spoken just in time. If they were quick about it, they might avoid the unwanted encounter altogether, for Miss Bingley and her sister, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, were making their way to where they stood. Grasping Lady Sophia’s arm, Elizabeth gave a quick curtsey. “Mr. Darcy.”
Before allowing the gentleman a moment’s response, Lady Sophia and Elizabeth were on their way.
The view from where the Duke of Dunsmore stood with his grandson, Avery, met with the former’s deep displeasure.
In an effort to divert the duke, Avery said, “I wish you wouldn’t glare at my friend Darcy in such a disgusted manner, Your Grace.”
“Your friend exercises far too much familiarity with my granddaughter for my taste.”
“My sister is charming and witty. There is no surprise my friend would be drawn to her.”
The duke regarded his grandson unenthusiastically. Avery was indeed his mother’s son with his liberal ideas about birth and social standing. Did he honestly suppose that his grandfather knew nothing about his unguarded attentions to the Hamilton girl from Cheapside? The duke would be damned if he allowed anything to become of that. Let Avery dally with that young woman if he will. So long as he does not give rise to any notion of a future with the woman, I shall not have cause to repine. I did not work so hard as I did to restore my family’s legacy to see it all be thrown away by an ill-conceived marriage of one of my grandchildren.
If only I had arranged Avery’s marriage while he was a mere child, the duke silently pondered. He had not thought it necessary, for Avery was also the firstborn son. His right of ascension was assured. It was solely a matter of time. He thought surely that his grandson would know that it was his duty to marry well.
Theretofore, the duke did not need to worry over his granddaughter in that regard. Her union with Lord Robert Frawley was practically guaranteed. As soon as the viscount returned from the continent, the duke and the Earl of Clemmons, Frawley’s father, planned to announce the long awaited engagement. Assuring Elizabeth’s firstborn son’s right of ascension was paramount in the duke’s thinking. It would mean nothing if his granddaughter were to marry someone other than the son of a peer. Even the richest man in all of England would not do if he did not bear a noble title.
What made matters worse was the fact that the duke actually liked Mr. Darcy. He was a decent young man who came into his own at an early age. He was honorable and upstanding, nothing at all like other young men whose situations were similar to his. Darcy’s greatest fault was insurmountable. He was not a peer.
All remembrances of his having substituted Elizabeth as his granddaughter Bethany in the arrangement with the Earl of Clemmons appeared to have escaped the duke. Despite the circumstances of her birth, he had argued with his lifelong friend that Elizabeth was his late son’s progeny and thus of royal blood. There was no reason she would not make as excellent a countess as would Lady Bethany if the latter had lived.
“I do wish you would do more to discourage your friend Darcy and your sister,” said the duke. “Besides, I understand it is the favorite wish of Lady Catherine de Bourgh that Darcy should marry her daughter. You know how the Fitzwilliams have a habit of marrying their cousins.”
Avery knew his grandfather was right to be concerned about his friend’s interest in Elizabeth. Just that morning when speaking of her, Darcy himself said that he found Lady Elizabeth to be quite lovely. He further professed being more than a little impressed with her lively spirit and paid her the ultimate compliment by saying she was quite unlike any young lady he had ever known. Avery dared not convey any of his friend’s testimony to his grandfather.
“If you put any stock at all in the notion that my friend is destined to marry his cousin, then why do you object to Elizabeth spending time in his company?”
“Do you not consider that a single gentleman who is used to having his way, and a young woman who is equally determined to oppose my wishes by choosing her own fate, might be tempted to go against the wishes of their family? I will not even allow for the possibility where my granddaughter is concerned.”
Chapter 6 ~ Merely a Misunderstanding
Mrs. Richardson led the handsome man about the crowded room. Whoever he was, he was most certainly not her husband. Although Elizabeth could not see his face, she easily discerned by the manner of his walk, and the eager manner in which all the women in the room received him, that he was a handsome man. Now they were coming her way. Soon she would be the lucky woman to bask in the elegant gentleman’s charms. The closer they came, the more his face took on an air of familiarity. Indeed, she had met the charming man before. How exceedingly kind the years had been to him.
Lady Richardson said, “My dear Lady Elizabeth, have you met our Mr. Wickham?”
Extending her hand, Elizabeth said, “Indeed. I had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman several years ago—although, I do not suppose you will recall our meeting, sir.”
In a manner befitting the most elegant of men, he accepted Elizabeth’s proffered hand and raised it to his lips. “Lady Elizabeth Montlake, I do indeed remember our first meeting. Despite my having met you only once — you are just the type of lady a man would find impossible to forget.”
Elizabeth felt the color spread over her body.
Mrs. Richardson said, “I shall leave the two of you to get reacquainted while I attend my other guests.” She lightly swatted the gentleman’s chest with her fan. “Mind you, my dear Wickham, later this evening we shall open the instrument. I will be ever so disappointed if you do not request my hand for a set.”
When Elizabeth and he were alone, Mr. Wickham regarded her as though she were the only woman in the room. “It has been a very long time since you and I first made each other’s acquaintance, Lady Elizabeth.”
“Indeed it has, sir. It was a very sad time for the Darcys as well as you. Do you continue to call Pemberley your home?”
“In my heart, I shall always consider Pemberley my home. However, due to circumstances that are not of my own doing, I am no longer welcome there.”
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that, sir.”
“Indeed. You may or may not recall the hint of ill will that existed between Darcy and me. I am afraid it only exacerbated in the months following his excellent father’s - my godfather’s - passing.”
Elizabeth was always interested in knowing more about Mr. Darcy and this was no exception, but she did not like to be a party to any gossip that portrayed him in a less than favorable light.
“You see, the late Mr. Darcy loved me as though I were his own son. He bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it, but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”
“This hardly sounds like the same Mr. Darcy that I know and, dare I say, esteem.”
“Darcy can be exceedingly agreeable to those people whom he deems equal to him in consequence. Hence, it does not surprise me that you have never seen the side of him that I have been privy to for the best part of my life.”
Elizabeth wished to speak of other things. Their discourse quickly veered towards more pleasant conversations. She smiled and nodded in the appropriate places and made witty retorts when and where she could. All the while, she wondered how Mr. Darcy could possibly find anything at all objectionable about the charming man who sat next to her. On the other hand, the two men had lived together and likely had been the closest of friends during their youth. Perhaps the disharmony between them was merely a misunderstanding. The gentlemen were as good as family, after all. Even in her limited experience, she knew eno
ugh to suspect that family members did not always get along.
I contend there is goodness in both men and, therefore, I shall not take sides in a battle that is not my own. Perhaps one day Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham might see past their differences and their relationship will be as it ever was.
While Avery had been the one to escort his sister and her companion to that evening’s soiree, he had only stayed there long enough to be polite. He returned some hours later to bring Lady Elizabeth and Miss Greene home. Sitting across from the two women in the carriage, Avery said, “Elizabeth, I am told that you spent quite a bit of time talking with George Wickham this evening.”
Elizabeth did not appreciate that Avery tended to don their grandfather’s overly protective shield as willingly as he did. “Which of your cohorts told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Indeed it does, for I should like to know whom you asked to keep watch over me this evening.”
“As your older brother, it is my obligation to know with whom you spend time. I will not apologize for that. As for the topic at hand, you are not to spend time with the likes of George Wickham. It does not bode well for your reputation, to be seen conversing with such a man.”
Elizabeth said, “What is the basis for your dislike other than that he is the enemy of one of your closest friends?”
“It ought to be enough for you as well.” From his perspective, some things a gently bred young woman did not need to know. The vile propensities of George Wickham’s character, which he had observed too many times to count, were but a few of them. The man was trouble. Avery could not be too careful where George Wickham’s familiar nature with his sister was concerned.
Chapter 7 ~ Her Brother’s Friend
Elizabeth was more impressed with the size of the room and the number of couples than she was with the pair standing next to her. Indeed, next to her stood none other than the Bingley sisters, Mrs. Louisa Hurst and Miss Caroline Bingley. The two had presumed an acquaintance with her through a connection so slight as their brother’s friendship with Mr. Darcy. Why, Elizabeth’s only connection with Mr. Darcy was through his friendship with her brother, Avery. In effect, friends of her brother’s friend presumed themselves to be her friends.
On their own, the two women would never have the means of recommending themselves to Elizabeth, though one would never know it judging by their manner of speaking to her, suggesting that they were all somehow equals. Imagine that! No matter how fashionable they were, and regardless of the fact that they had gone to the best schools and even moved about the ton as though they actually belonged, everyone was all too aware that their brother’s fortune had been earned in trade.
They had been standing there with Elizabeth, Avery, and Miss Margaret Hamilton, when Avery offered to escort the latter to get punch. As much as she loved her brother and always enjoyed being in his company, Elizabeth was not sorry to see him escort the young lady away.
What Miss Hamilton lacked by way of connections, she made up for in confidence, which likely explained how she had worked her way into Avery’s good graces. A darling of society, he might have any young woman he chose, and yet he had apparently chosen her. In the young woman’s attempt to garner Avery’s approbation, she had a very annoying habit of fawning over Elizabeth when in his presence. When she was not with Avery and it was just Elizabeth and the young woman herself, her attitude was entirely different. This gave Elizabeth the distinct impression that Miss Hamilton was not at all the type of woman whom her brother should admire.
How it vexed Elizabeth that he did indeed admire the young lady. No—he more than just admired her. Elizabeth supposed her brother thought he was in love with the young woman. How unfortunate for him that nothing would ever come of his admiration for Miss Hamilton. While it was true that the duke had not taken it upon himself to arrange Avery’s marriage as he had done for Elizabeth, he indeed expected his only grandson, the future Duke of Dunsmore, to choose wisely. Miss Hamilton was not a wise choice at all, despite her family’s fortune. Her father earned his living in trade.
Avery had supposed that if Elizabeth liked Miss Hamilton, such approbation might mean something to his grandfather and his mother, both of whom had voiced their objections to the lady whenever Avery showed his preference towards her above every other woman of his acquaintance.
Had it not been for the fact that Elizabeth always caught Miss Hamilton yawning when the two of them had an opportunity to be alone, Elizabeth might actually have been a willing participant in her brother’s scheme to garner such favor towards the young woman. How was she to recommend someone who only pretended to like her?
Miss Bingley said, “When I saw you standing here with your brother and that awful Miss Hamilton, I simply had to come over and rescue you.”
Elizabeth did not think her dislike of her brother’s friend was as obvious as all that. “Whatever do you mean by that, Miss Bingley?”
“Come now, Lady Elizabeth. There is no need to pretend with me. You cannot be impressed by the notion that a young woman, whose father resides in Cheapside, is intent on one day calling you her sister.”
Elizabeth never really thought of herself as judgmental or inconsiderate of those who were beneath her in consequence, and she resented Miss Bingley’s insinuation. No, any aversion she suffered towards Miss Hamilton had everything to do with her condescension towards Elizabeth. It has nothing to do with her connections or lack thereof ... does it?
“You mistake me, Miss Bingley, if you suppose such matters as those you speak of so disparagingly carry any weight with me. If I did take issue with Miss Hamilton, and mind you I am not saying that I do, but if I did, I assure you it would be for reasons that you likely would not understand.” Indeed, the fact is I find her as boorish and pretentious as I find you and your sister, Elizabeth thought but did not say. Such meanness of spirit was not in her nature. With respect to Elizabeth’s consideration that Miss Hamilton and Miss Bingley were practically on the same footing, she inwardly laughed at the irony. Miss Bingley thinks too highly of herself, I am sure, even to countenance such a possibility.
Elizabeth, by now having had all she could take, walked away.
A hush spread over the room, prompting Elizabeth to turn to see what was afoot. In no time at all, Elizabeth was seeing green, and it was not the gown worn by the striking creature on Mr. Darcy’s arm that made it so. Elizabeth wondered why she would feel as she did, for she was no stranger to the fact that Mr. Darcy was to marry his cousin. How might the woman on his arm possibly be Miss Anne de Bourgh? From all Elizabeth had heard, Miss de Bourgh was of a sickly constitution. The woman on Mr. Darcy’s arm flows through the room with the grace of a gazelle. Who is she?
Elizabeth readied herself for the couple headed her way. Where the woman had been clinging to the gentleman’s arm, he freed himself from her grip and stood beside Elizabeth, facing his companion.
After greeting each other in the usual way, with a proper bow and curtsey and a brief exchange of pleasantries, Darcy said, “Lady Elizabeth, allow me to introduce my cousin, Lady Victoria Fitzwilliam. Lady Victoria, this is Lady Elizabeth.”
The two ladies curtsied slightly. Lady Victoria said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Elizabeth. My dear cousin has mentioned you a time or two before. I believe he said you are Lord Avery Montlake’s little sister.”
Elizabeth wanted to say she had no recollection of Mr. Darcy’s mentioning of Lady Victoria to her, but thinking that would not be a very kind thing to say to a woman who apparently held the gentleman in high esteem, Elizabeth merely acknowledged that she was pleased to make Lady Victoria’s acquaintance as well.
Darcy cleared his throat. “Lady Elizabeth, pray you have saved room on your dance card for me this evening?”
He need not have asked because by now she had made it a point of saving a dance for him. However, she thought it quite odd that he was making his appeal in the presence of his cousin, whose own face rather reflected her
surprise in his asking Elizabeth for a set.
Her arm once again laced through his, Darcy and his cousin then walked away, the latter practically pulling the former along. When they were alone, the lady demanded an explanation. “Pray tell me, Cousin, what just happened?” said Lady Victoria, her voice reflecting her piqued curiosity. “Unless I am mistaken, you asked that young woman to dance.”
“You know very well that I asked Lady Elizabeth for a set.”
“You will forgive me, but I find it rather odd that you would ask her to dance when you have a perfectly willing partner at your convenience.” Her hands fell to her hips. “Besides that, I always supposed you found it a torture to stand opposite anyone to whom you are not particularly acquainted.”
“What leads you to suspect that Lady Elizabeth and I are not well acquainted?”
“Dear Cousin, when did you start keeping secrets from me?”
“For heaven’s sake, Victoria, it is not as though I have a habit of telling you everything.”
Truth be told, Lady Victoria was more than just a cousin to Darcy. They were actually good friends, which more often than not provided fodder for many lively discussions over the possibility that a man and woman could enjoy such a platonic companionship as theirs. Darcy liked to think that his cousin was not like the other females of his acquaintance, whose hopes might be inspired by such a friendship as he and Lady Victoria shared. That would never do, especially now when I find it is all I can do to keep myself from being totally captivated by a pair of dark, fine eyes in the sister of one of my closest friends.
“Do you fancy yourself in love with her?”
“No—I am not in love. I admire her.”
