Chapter Eleven

E lizabeth entered Beecham House with Jane, Amelia, and Diana on Friday afternoon. While still chilly, it had not been as cold as the days had been recently. They were greeted, their coats and scarves taken, and then the butler led them to Miss Torrington's drawing room, where she awaited her guests. A woman with white hair simply arranged sat in a comfortable wing chair nearest the fire with a small spaniel in her lap. She did not rise, and Elizabeth quickly realised that both she and the dog were asleep.

"My cousin Miss Jacobsen," Miss Torrington said with a fond smile. "Father thought she could be my companion, and indeed, she is perfect for the job." She tapped one ear. "Hard of hearing. More interested in her dog than me."

Elizabeth shared an amused look with her hostess and then glanced about. The room was bright, richly furnished, and comfortable. The windows opened out onto a splendid garden and forest beyond. When she brought her gaze inside, Elizabeth had to conceal a smile. Everywhere one looked, there were hawks—paintings of hawks in flight, on the nest, resting on the arm of one man in what Elizabeth presumed was a long line of Torrington falconers.

Even the design of the blue and ivory wallpaper was similar to the bird's feathers. It was a subtle pattern, but not difficult to pick out if one really looked.

Amelia turned her head to take it all in. "This is a lovely room," she said faintly, as Diana's eyes widened behind her spectacles, her reticule clutched tightly in her hands.

Only Jane was sincerely complimentary. "This room is very comfortable, Miss Torrington."

Miss Torrington laughed softly. "You are too kind. My father wanted to surprise me for my sixteenth birthday and did up the room just as he believed I would like. I could not bear to disappoint him, and now it is an interesting story to tell. It certainly stands out from all the other drawing rooms I have ever been in."

"What would you have preferred?" Jane asked.

"I can hardly imagine what I would have done. Something either ghastly or very banal in all likelihood, for I do not have much of an eye for wallpapers or window dressings. At least this way, my guests and I always have something to begin the conversation."

That was certainly true. Elizabeth addressed Miss Torrington. "I was impressed by the amount of land you have here. We are so close to town, and yet you have your own park."

"I fear my sister is envious," Jane said fondly. "She misses her country walks, and while Hyde Park is lovely, it is also rather crowded, even this time of year."

"As the weather improves, there will hardly be room to move," Elizabeth agreed .

"My dear Miss Elizabeth," Miss Torrington said, "you are always welcome to take advantage of Beecham's walking paths. It is indeed much quieter than any park in town, and I am sympathetic to a lady's need for a brisk country walk."

This was an unexpected and delightful surprise. "While I had not intended for that to be a hint, I shall prove myself unrepentant, for I could never decline such an invitation," Elizabeth replied with delight.

"Oh dear," Amelia said cheerfully, "we may never see Elizabeth again, Jane."

"Do not fear, Miss Hamilton," Miss Torrington said, amused. "The grounds are not so extensive that a few hours' search would not roust Miss Elizabeth from her hiding place."

Elizabeth chuckled. "As little as I might wish to come indoors, I am rather fond of hot tea and a roaring fire. You have no cause for concern, Amelia."

"Although she may return from her rambles with leaves in her hair and mud on her hem," Jane said affectionately.

It was an exaggeration, but not much of one. Elizabeth's reply was cheerful. "In honour of Diana, I will simply say, Voi due si compiace semplicemente di tormentarmi."

Diana smiled. "They do take delight in tormenting you, Elizabeth. Well done. I did not realise you spoke Italian."

"I shall be honest," Elizabeth said, pretending to speak confidentially, "and admit that ever since you told us how many languages you have mastered, I have been practising."

Miss Torrington smiled. "My goodness, how many languages is that, Miss Loughty?"

"I hope you do not mind," Miss Loughty said, rather boldly for her, "and I know it might be rather soon, but we are all using one another's Christian names, and I believe I speak for us all when I say we should be honoured if you were to do the same."

There were nods all around, and Miss Torrington's cheeks pinked. "I would enjoy that, ladies. I am Cordelia."

"Twenty-three," Elizabeth said, and they all looked at her. "Diana speaks twenty-three languages."

Cordelia blinked with shock, and they all laughed.

"I only speak seven," Diana said when she had recovered.

"And she understands another," Amelia added pertly.

"My goodness," Cordelia said, placing a hand over her heart in an extravagant motion. "That is astonishing. Not quite as astonishing as twenty-three, of course, but still quite respectable." She cast an approving glance at Elizabeth before turning the conversation to all the countries whose languages Diana spoke.

Cordelia had not said as much, but Elizabeth knew she had been caught out. Her exaggerations were meant to make it a simple thing for Diana to let everyone know how accomplished she truly was and yet retain the humility that seemed a part of her character. It was a shame that she had to resort to subterfuge, but everyone ought to know how very intelligent this woman was.

"Do you know," Diana said, "after we all spoke at the ball, I was attempting to learn where falconry began."

"It is so old that I do not think we really know for certain," Cordelia said thoughtfully. "My father told me that there have even been some cave paintings that depict it."

"The Turks have practiced it for thousands of years, and there are records of it in many lands."

"Have you been studying those languages too?" Amelia asked .

"No, but they are fascinating. I doubt I could find anyone here who could tutor me in them, though." Diana appeared saddened by this lost opportunity.

"I really am best informed on how falconry has developed here in England." Miss Torrington placed her hands in her lap. "But I will admit that I am more interested in learning about all of you."

"What would you like to know?" Amelia inquired. "For I am certainly not as interesting as you, Miss—Cordelia, or any of my other friends. But I will attempt to at least be entertaining."

Cordelia smiled at Amelia. "Let us just begin with how you all know one another?"

"We were at school together," Jane answered simply. "Elizabeth and Amelia and I. We had the good fortune to meet Diana here in town a few weeks ago."

"Sometimes I wish I had gone to school," Cordelia said wistfully. "But my father needed me here."

"I did not like being away at school," Amelia said.

"Oh, I did," Diana demurred. "They had so many language masters, and then when I was home, I taught as much as I could to my mother. She loves languages too."

"That is a lovely memory." Jane was always ready with the right thing to say.

"Unfortunately, my parents do not like town," Diana said. "They tasked my brother with escorting me everywhere in the evenings, but he does not appreciate that arrangement any more than I do."

"They are here in London, though?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Yes. They do not enjoy going out at night, that is all. "

"Whereas my father could not be kept in," Cordelia said affectionately. "His friends are all come to town for the season. It is his favourite time of year."

Amelia shook her head. "It is too cold for me. When we visited Gunter's, we had tea instead of ices. I am eagerly awaiting the spring."

"Speaking of tea," Cordelia said, and stood to ring the bell.

Elizabeth smiled. When their hostess returned to their little circle, she said, "It has been too cold for ices at Gunter's, but Jane and I anticipate a visit to sample them when it is warmer. Do any of you have a flavour you prefer?"

When they had exhausted their debate over asparagus, artichoke, barberry, pistachio, coriander, parmesan, and then, of course, the sorbets, Cordelia asked, "Which flavours do you think you would like to try, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Strawberry," Jane said, without any dithering at all. She loved sweet summer fruits.

Elizbeth did like strawberries, but her favourite? "Lemon."

"Perhaps by the spring you will have a suitor, Elizabeth, and he will take you to Gunter's," Diana said, appearing very much as though she would like that for herself. She cleared her throat. "Mr. Bingley showed you a great deal of attention at Rotten Row, Jane. Did he . . . I mean . . ."

"He did ask to call," Amelia said smugly. "I knew he would."

Jane flushed a deep red.

"Amelia! You were not even there!" Elizabeth exclaimed, both surprised and amused.

The younger girl shrugged. "My aunt told me that he had asked to call on Jane. It is why she sent me to see Simon yesterday. Was he nervous?"

Jane's complexion was bright red. "He was very amiable."

"Were you nervous?" Diana asked .

"Yes," Jane said and ducked her head.

"My aunt thinks he is a nice enough man," Amelia confided, "but unless you like him very much, she thinks you can do better."

"Amelia, that is enough," Jane said, though she did so gently. "I do like Mr. Bingley or I should not have accepted his request to call."

"That is very romantic!" Diana said with a little sigh.

"It was only one call," Jane said weakly.

For the present , Elizabeth thought. She caught Jane's eye. She would stop this if her sister was truly uncomfortable, but Jane shook her head. She was well.

Cordelia had yet to speak, but now she asked, "Do you find him handsome, Jane? For yours is the only opinion that matters."

Jane nodded.

"He is also very amiable," Amelia said. "My aunt said so. But she thinks he might be too young to be a husband to anyone. My uncle told her not to worry, because more than one man of his acquaintance was a boy until he met the woman he wished to wed."

"Amelia," Elizabeth said, suspicious, "have you been listening at doors?"

She laughed. "No. There are always so many people in Carlisle House that secrets are very difficult to keep, so Uncle and Aunt do not take much care to hide conversations such as these. If they must speak about what is happening in the Lords or anything truly private, then they close themselves up in my uncle's study, but otherwise. . ."

Jane sighed a little. "I suppose Lady Carlisle has a right to an opinion, given that she is both our hostess and our chaperone. But I do not wish to do better than Mr. Bingley if all that means is social position and wealth."

"Social position and wealth are what everyone wishes for in a match, Jane," Cordelia said. Her words were friendly.

"Not me," Jane said stoutly .

"I think Mr. Bingley is very handsome," Amelia said. "I do love men with blond curls."

The other ladies smiled at her. "I would hope," Elizabeth said, "that you will seek more than a pleasing head of hair when it is your time to be courted."

"Well of course I shall," Amelia said with a lopsided smile and a roll of her eyes. "I may be romantic, but I am not stupid. We shall all have to like the man we wed more than anyone else, for we shall have to share a house and a life with him. I could not abide a man who always smelled of horse, for example."

"No officers for you, then," Diana teased. "Although I suppose that does not include the navy."

"Oh, the navy officers are very dashing in their uniforms, but he would be away more than at home, and that I would not like."

Elizabeth was impressed that her friend had given so much thought to the sort of man she would prefer. As far as Amelia's behaviour went, she had not expected the girl was seriously looking for a husband this season. She said as much.

"I am not," Amelia replied. "That does not mean, however, that I am not prepared, should the right man happen to drop from the sky."

Cordelia shook her head. "What an image you paint. How fortunate it would be if it rained handsome, intelligent, independent gentlemen this season. I might even ask for one who would be pleased if his wife had interests of her own."

Diana was silent, and Elizabeth wondered what sort of man would make her new friend happy. She would have to keep her eyes and ears open for a gentleman who deserved her .

"Mr. Bingley is not my suitor," Jane insisted, and Elizabeth realised she had been wool gathering. She pulled her attention back to the conversation.

"Not yet," Amelia said with glee. "But if you allow it, I think he very soon will be."

The tea arrived, which caused Miss Jacobsen to stir at last and rise to join them. She carried her spaniel with her, and Elizabeth was charmed by the dog's sweet face. That is, until he growled at her.

"What is his name?" she asked.

Miss Jacobsen smiled brightly. "Wilson," she said, stroking his silky fur. "Do not mind him. He has been rather grumpy since Cordelia's falcon attempted to make off with him. Bloodthirsty beast."

"Nonsense, Margaret!" cried a booming voice from the doorway. "You cannot fault the bird for doing what comes natural."

A man stood in the doorway, and Cordelia rose. "Papa," she said, "I was not expecting you for tea."

"Oh, I will not interrupt your gathering, my girl," he said while he stepped inside. "The boys and I will have refreshments later, in the billiards room." Several men about Mr. Torrington's age crowded in behind him, all dressed for sport, all with ruddy complexions as though they had just come in from the cold. One younger man stepped to the side to wait for the rest of his group. Elizabeth thought he might be the son of one of the men.

"Nonsense, Papa. You are welcome to join our conversations on lace and suitors at any time, you know that."

Mr. Torrington grimaced and rubbed a hand over his bald head as the men behind him looked everywhere else and murmured that they should not dream of disrupting such delicate negotiations. "I shall leave those pleasures to you, my dear. I only hoped for introductions to these fine ladies?"

"Of course. These are my friends, father." Beginning with Jane, Cordelia quickly introduced them all, and Elizabeth watched Mr. Torrington's expression. He was very pleased that Cordelia had visitors, and she wondered whether it was an uncommon occurrence.

"Ladies, my father's friends here are Mr. Grant, Mr. Macon, Mr. Natters, and Mr. Fettingdown. Oh, and that's young Mr. Harry Grant over to the side, there."

So he was a son. It explained his pained, embarrassed expression. Young Mr. Grant bowed neatly to them.

"Welcome, ladies," Mr. Torrington said when he had finished. "Cordelia." He smiled at his daughter as all of the other men drained out of the room.

Cordelia waited for the door to close behind them and shook her head. "That was my father and a small number of his friends."

"Young Mr. Grant was rather handsome," Amelia said.

"But did he drop from the sky?" Elizabeth inquired.

"I am afraid that he did not."

The ladies giggled, and Cordelia began to pour the tea.

Elizabeth glanced around their little circle, each woman holding her teacup properly and taking tiny sips.

"Do you know, Elizabeth, I believed Mr. Darcy perfectly horrid at first, but he seems to be minding his manners now." Amelia glanced up rather coyly. "Do not think I have not noticed or heard that he has appeared everywhere you have been."

"George Darcy?" Miss Jacobsen asked. "I thought he was dead."

"His son," Jane replied.

"His son is old enough to be in town? "

"Yes," Elizabeth said. She almost added that she wished he was not, but that would not be fair. He had been somewhat pleasant with them at Hyde Park.

"He was not at the Carutherses' ball, for I should have seen him," Cordelia said before she raised her teacup to her mouth for a sip.

"No," Amelia said after, "but he was at the bookshop and took us to Gunter's. And then Jane said he was at Sir Humphry's lecture and joined you in the carriage at Hyde Park."

"He did not take us to Gunter's, Amelia," Elizabeth corrected her. "You asked him to accompany us."

"He was not forced to accept," Amelia replied with an inelegant shrug.

"Mr. Darcy was in the carriage at Hyde Park," Diana affirmed. "I saw him."

"Lady Carlisle invited him," Elizabeth explained, growing a little exasperated.

"I would have presumed he was there for Jane, if Mr. Bingley had not been there first," Amelia said blithely. "Jane is nearer to him in age, and she is quite the most beautiful woman I know."

"I think there are other beautiful women in London this season, Amelia," Cordelia said, exactly the right thing to say to keep Jane from being embarrassed. "I will agree that none are more beautiful than Jane. She garnered a great deal of attention at the Carutherses' ball."

"But that attention was not genuine," Jane protested.

Genuinely nefarious, perhaps.

Cordelia apparently had the same thought. "It was genuine. However, many men show genuine interest only to have them seek your favours away from your chaperone. I was pleased to see Lord Carlisle taking your protection seriously."

"He has been a most gracious host," Jane agreed .

"And an aware one, which is even better." Cordelia allowed her words to trail off and she turned to Elizabeth. "Now, as to Mr. Darcy, I am curious. He has not been much in town during the past seasons, nor has he been much inclined to dinners or balls when he is in residence. You say he has been appearing where Elizabeth has been?"

"Oh, yes," Amelia said. "I heard my aunt tell my uncle that if Mr. Darcy made an appearance at the lecture, she would invite him to Hyde Park with them. He seemed to think it a fine idea."

"Amelia . . . did you give up your seat at the lecture so that Mr. Darcy would sit next to me?" Elizabeth inquired bluntly.

Her friend was not deterred. "I did. I know it was not a certain thing. He might not have come or someone else might have taken the seat, and I would have been very put out. But it worked splendidly, do not you think?"

"If I had wished to sit next to Mr. Darcy, then perhaps it would have been a kindness," Elizabeth said reluctantly. "But please do not do that again, Amelia."

Diana cocked her head to one side. "You do not like Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I have said too much."

"It is not that Elizabeth does not like Mr. Darcy," Jane offered. The glance she bestowed on Elizabeth was compassionate. "It is that she does not believe that he likes her."

" Jane, " Elizabeth said warningly, and her sister shook her head.

"I believe you are wrong, Elizabeth, but I will say no more."

"But you must," Amelia said. "Mr. Darcy would be a splendid suitor. Even my aunt thinks so."

"Then you may have him and all his insults," Elizabeth said impertinently. "I am sure your aunt will be pleased, and you and Mr. Darcy will be very happy together. "

"Oh, no," Amelia said, taking the idea rather too much to heart. "He intimidates me. But nothing intimidates you."

Elizabeth took a deep breath to steady herself. She had begun to think the smallest bit better of the man, but this fantasy Amelia had devised was impossible.

"What is it you like so much about Mr. Bingley, Jane?" Diana asked, taking charge of the conversation. "How is he different from the other men?"

Elizabeth was deeply grateful to Diana for the diversion.

Jane pondered the question for a moment. "Mr. Bingley may ask for two dances when one is appropriate, but he does not sulk when I cannot grant it. He does not attempt to change my mind, but instead offers me the compliment of believing me."

The dog barked, and the girls all jumped.

"That is a rare quality," Miss Jacobsen said in a voice that sounded as though she was speaking through her nose. "Do not discount it, girls."

When his errors were pointed out to him, Mr. Bingley was indeed willing to change his course. Elizabeth supposed that was to his credit.

"When he called, he introduced neutral topics of conversation until he found one that pleased me," Jane continued. Wilson jumped down from Miss Jacobsen's lap and stood in the centre of the floor, stretching.

Was that what Mr. Bingley had been doing? Elizabeth had to stifle a yawn just thinking about that visit.

Jane placed her teacup in its saucer. "His call went very well, and that is all I can know for now."

Wilson trotted around the circle until he reached Jane, and then placed his front paws on the chair and leapt into her lap. Jane quickly set her teacup down and offered the spaniel the lavish attention he appeared to require.

"Oh, he likes you, Miss Bennet," crooned Miss Jacobsen. "You must be a very good person indeed."

Jane petted the dog and spoke softly to him. The little dog turned over on his back and presented his belly. Jane's hand hovered over him uncertainly.

Miss Jacobsen clapped, and her dog reluctantly rolled himself back onto his stomach. "Miss Bennet is a proper lady, Wilson. Come here."

Wilson whined but removed himself from Jane's lap and returned to his mistress.

When they finished their repast and the tea things had been removed, Cordelia placed her hands in her lap and declared, "Well. I believe that may have been the most delightful hour I have ever spent in the company of other ladies. Shall we do this again soon?"