Chapter Thirty

T he grand salon at Beecham House buzzed with energy. The hum of voices, the clink of wineglasses, the appreciation for the several tables where punch, fruits, and cakes were arranged—all combined to provide a bracing atmosphere. Cordelia had also arranged the room quite cleverly to accommodate their smaller group of thirty or so people—providing ample room for mingling without making the room feel too large.

And, Elizabeth noted, there was not a single hawk in sight.

She was a little disappointed at that last, for she would dearly have loved to hear what Mr. Darcy would have said. Something rather dry and witty, she was sure.

Her hostess was at present engaged with Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was pressing the merits of pigeons as messengers. Cordelia smiled almost wickedly when she said, "But Colonel, surely you must know that hawks are naturally predators of pigeons. Your feathered emissaries would be of no use if they happened across a hawk in flight."

The colonel was undeterred. "Miss Cordelia, I believe you underestimate the speed and agility of a well-trained carrier pigeon." Georgiana and Lady Henrietta listened to the spirited exchange with barely contained amusement.

Elizabeth was speaking with a Mr. Kershaw of Lancashire, a man of average height, thinning brown hair, and keen, intelligent eyes. He was an acquaintance of Lords Carlisle and Matlock and a diplomat in the king's service who was regaling her with the phrases and customs of the places he had been in his travels—Germany, Portugal, Spain, Italy, and a few other countries Elizabeth could not recall. It was quite interesting, but she thought she knew someone who would enjoy it more. She smiled and held out her hand to Diana as she walked past. Diana instinctively took it and was gently pulled to Elizabeth's side.

"Diana, you must come speak with Mr. Kershaw." Elizabeth smiled at her friend's curious expression. "Mr. Kershaw, may I present Miss Loughty? She has a keen interest in linguistics and a gift for languages that may rival your own."

Mr. Kershaw turned his gaze on Diana and smiled. "C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, Mlle Loughty."

Diana's eyes brightened. "Le plaisir est pour moi, Monsieur Kershaw. Je suis impatiente d'en apprendre davantage sur vos voyages."

He blinked. "Your accent is perfection, Miss Loughty. And I would be glad to share some of my adventures, if you are truly interested. Fala português?"

"Eu."

He beamed. "Excellent. For this story is best told in Portuguese."

The two quickly fell into a lively exchange, their conversation flowing seamlessly from Portuguese to French, and then to Spanish, at which point, Elizabeth wandered away.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said, offering his arm and escorting her to a group that included Mr. Bingley and Jane as well as Lord Milton and Amelia. "We were beginning to discuss the regency, and as I know you have a specific interest in the topic, I was sent to find you."

She laughed softly. As they joined their friends, she fired the first salvo. "While I understand the necessity of the Regency Act, given the king's illness, I cannot help but feel it sets a dangerous precedent. Should the power of the monarchy be so easily transferred?"

"It is a time of crisis," Lord Milton replied. "It took a great deal of manoeuvring to persuade Parliament to act."

"While I agree with Miss Elizabeth—"

Elizabeth smiled up at Mr. Darcy.

"To a point, that is—"

She narrowed her eyes.

"I do think the regency, while not a good solution, may be the best one we are able to conceive."

"The Prince Regent does have his flaws," Lord Milton added, "but he is capable of leading the country until the king's health improves."

"And I suppose if the king's health does not improve, he would become the king in any case," Jane said.

"So long as he does not bankrupt us in the meantime," Mr. Bingley said.

Elizabeth glanced at her sister's intended with some surprise. She had never heard him take a stand in a debate before. Jane was having a good influence already.

"What?" Mr. Bingley was asking, looking at Mr. Darcy who was apparently giving him the same look as Elizabeth. "I have opinions, you know."

Mr. Darcy's smile was fleeting, but he nodded at his friend. "I do now."

Lord Milton guffawed at that and exclaimed, "To King Bing!"

Elizabeth did not understand. Neither did Jane, from the looks of it, but Mr. Darcy bit his lip and Mr. Bingley flushed a deep red .

To alleviate the awkwardness of the moment, Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy. "Is it not the duty of a government to ensure the smooth functioning of its nation, even in the face of adversity? A regency, while imperfect, allows for the continuity of leadership and the stability of the realm."

"Hold a minute," Lord Milton said with a laugh, "you have changed sides now!"

"I suspect that Miss Elizabeth at times professes beliefs that are not her own in the name of a good debate," Mr. Darcy said, his eyes catching hers and holding them.

"My goodness," Elizabeth replied, arching one brow, "you will teach those present not to believe a word I say. That is ungallant of him, is it not, Mr. Bingley?"

"Indeed it is, Darcy," Bingley said with a laugh of his own.

Other guests began to wander over their way.

Mr. Darcy nodded. "Very well, Miss Elizabeth. I will accept your challenge. While the Regency Act may have been the best of a bad situation, if a regent tends to extravagance and excess, it would hardly inspire confidence in his ability to govern responsibly."

Elizabeth leaned in a little closer. "Then perhaps the question is not whether a regent is fit to govern, but whether Parliament acted in the best interests of the nation by passing the Regency Act."

"Unfair!" Mr. Darcy cried teasingly. "You are changing the terms of the debate because you are losing."

Elizabeth laughed. " Am I losing, Mr. Darcy?" she inquired. "Perhaps I was about to argue that once having passed an act, the prevailing government must remain vigilant in its oversight of a regent's limitations as set out in law."

"Very well," Mr. Darcy replied. "A compelling argument. Perhaps we should ask Lords Carlisle and Matlock how they intend to do so? "

Those who had gathered around laughed. When they had stopped, Elizabeth smiled.

"Well played, Mr. Darcy," she replied. "But I will note that you have appealed to outside experts for your answer rather than providing one yourself. I believe that means I win." She smiled at the laughter that met her declaration.

It was all ridiculous, of course, but she did enjoy the verbal fencing, particularly when her opponent was Mr. Darcy.

He shook his head at her. "You are a formidable opponent, Miss Elizabeth."

She held out her hand for him to bow over, and he complied. As he straightened, she spoke. "I would rather be your friend, Mr. Darcy."

A few days after Easter, a letter arrived from Longbourn. The direction was in her mother's hand, and Elizabeth eyed it warily. Jane would have a letter as well, no doubt extolling her success in capturing a wealthy husband and listing all of the ways the eldest Bennet daughter would now be expected to assist Mamma and their sisters when their father died.

She was equally certain that no such effusions would greet her in this missive. She turned it over in her hands, and briefly considered pitching it in the flames unread. But she did not. It was, after all, the only correspondence from her mother that had arrived at Carlisle House for Elizabeth. She did not believe her mother had altered towards her in any significant way, but she always hoped for better—this was her mother, after all, and she would never have another .

At last, she returned to her chamber, sat before the hearth, broke the seal, and carefully unfolded the letter. There was no salutation, and Elizabeth could almost hear her mother's irritated voice in the neatly penned lines.

I am sure this letter finds you well, Elizabeth, for you are never ill.

Your father and I have heard from Jane that she is to be married to a handsome and wealthy young man. This is no more than we expected. The one thing you did do right was to share your fortune with your sister, for her prospects were always going to be better than your own. A man wants a woman who is beautiful, charming, and serene—and these qualities Jane has in abundance.

Perhaps the part of the fortune you have held for yourself should also go to Jane, since she clearly understands how to make proper use of it to elevate our family's prospects. With her new husband's wealth, she could even assist your other sisters with a season of their own, and I do not doubt they shall each find husbands when it is their turn. Or, if you will not, send the money home to us and we will use it for your sisters. After all, what need have you for such funds when it is obvious no respectable man of means will consider you?

Do not presume to impose upon your sister's charity once she is Mrs. Bingley. When you return to Longbourn for the wedding, you will remain here. Perhaps we may be able to find you a gentleman with a small estate willing to overlook your deficiencies. I would send you to the Gardiners were they in town, for they may know of a tradesman who would take you with five thousand pounds.

The fact that you have had no offer after so many months must persuade even you that I have been right all along. As soon as Jane is married, you must come home to Longbourn.

Your mother,

F. Bennet

Elizabeth set the letter down on the table next to her and leaned back in her chair. It was not the worst letter she had ever received from her mother, but it was a cruel one, nonetheless. No respectable man. She closed her eyes, and a few tears escaped down the side of her face. It was just like her mother to make such vulgar insinuations. She was wrong, of course, and Elizabeth would be very glad indeed when she was able to write with happy news of her own.

Or perhaps . . . perhaps she would not write at all .

Elizabeth had never intended to return to Longbourn, but she had not given any thought to whether or not she would correspond with its inhabitants. She wondered when the Gardiners would return to London and hoped it would be soon. She would very much like her aunt's advice.

Elizabeth must have dozed off—they had all been remarkably busy of late—for when she opened her eyes again, Jane was holding the letter and looking very angry.

"Lizzy," she said, when Elizabeth sat up and greeted her, "I hope you do not mind that I read this. Normally I would not look at your private correspondence without permission."

Elizabeth shook her head. What her mother had written was no surprise to her or to Jane.

"When I read my own, I was afraid of this." She shook Elizabeth's letter in the air. "I cannot accept Mamma's treatment of you. She speaks from ignorance and resentment when she should treat you with pride and affection."

"You have said as much before, and you are right, of course," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "Jane, I hope you do not believe I am a terrible person, but I do not believe I will see our parents again."

Jane blinked. "Not even when you are to be wed?"

She refrained from reminding her sister that there had been no proposal as yet. "No, not even then, and I shall ask Lord and Lady Carlisle not to write either. Papa does not care to meet our suitors, and neither he nor Mamma will be happy for me. I would rather celebrate with those who are."

A line appeared on Jane's forehead as she read the letter again. "I had thought they would attend my wedding, but Lizzy, I do not want them there. And if it would cause you any distress at all, then I shall not even tell them the day. We shall marry from Carlisle House and they can read the announcement in the papers like everyone else."

Elizabeth sat up and took the handkerchief Jane offered. The remnants of her tears were still damp on her skin, and she attempted to put herself to rights. "Should our sisters require assistance when they are older, I would not be averse to helping them, though I will not sponsor any of them in London unless they can prove they know how to navigate polite society without creating a scandal. That task may fall to you and me as well. But as for Mamma . . ."

"Mamma can go live with Aunt Phillips," Jane said hotly.

"Jane!" Elizabeth exclaimed with a disbelieving laugh.

"Why not? They are sisters. No, I am resolved," Jane said. "You are quite right. I have had enough. She has mistreated you terribly and attempted to use me to hurt you. Being in London all these months—it had been a revelation in many ways. Even I had no idea how much you had held inside, and I have never felt more at peace to be myself. Do you think Mamma would have supported me when I sent Mr. Bingley away?"

"Never." Elizabeth shuddered to think what her mother's response would have been. To blame it on Elizabeth, no doubt.

"Correct. She would have been unbearable. Yet I had to send him away—it was necessary for us both."

Elizabeth considered it and found Jane's reasoning sound.

"I think that may have been the real blessing of the money in the end, that there is no need ever to be in her company again." Jane finally sat in the chair across from Elizabeth. "Or Papa's for that matter, though he could hardly be rousted from his book room in any case."

"I have had some pleasant moments with Papa," Elizabeth said, though she was not really disputing Jane's characterization .

"Only when you read things he enjoyed speaking about. Never when we brought him books we were excited about."

Elizabeth nodded.

"We cannot change their bitterness," Jane said firmly, "but I am determined that it shall not taint our future happiness. I have found love with Mr. Bingley, and you will soon receive an offer of your own."

A secret smile played about Elizabeth's lips as she thought of the way one errant curl always fell over Mr. Darcy's forehead. It was the only untamed part of him, and she enjoyed thinking of how he could never resist trying to tuck it back into place.

"We were never going to return to Longbourn. But there is no need ever to be in their company again, Lizzy," Jane said stoutly. She sat back in her chair. "I think it is the best idea you have ever had."

Darcy was relieved to see Miss Elizabeth sitting in the drawing room at Carlisle House appearing none the worse for wear. Lord Carlisle had written him on her behalf, asking Darcy to come as soon as it was convenient, for she had something to discuss with him.

He had called for the carriage straight away.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said as she rose to greet him.

"Mr. Darcy," she said, smiling. "I did not expect to see you today."

His brows pinched together, but before he could ask about the note, Miss Bennet spoke from the settee where she had been sitting with Miss Hamilton. Both ladies were also standing now, but he had not noticed.

"I asked Lord Carlisle to send for Mr. Darcy, Lizzy."

"Whatever for?"

"I want to show him Mamma's letter. "

"For what purpose?"

Darcy was pleased that Miss Elizabeth did not seem upset, only confused.

Miss Bennet sighed a little. "Because he should know. I have showed mine to Mr. Bingley."

"I did not know that."

Darcy was growing more perplexed and anxious by the moment. "What letters?"

Miss Elizabeth shared a look with her sister. "Let us walk in the gardens, Mr. Darcy," she said at last. "There is more to see now than there was a few weeks ago, and Jane and Amelia can watch us through the window here."

"Very well."

Miss Bennet handed her sister a letter of some sort. "I brought it down for you."

Miss Elizabeth frowned, but she took it. "You are sneakier than I thought, Jane Bennet."

"Only because I love you, Lizzy," Miss Bennet replied. "And here is mine. Go on now."

Soon they were in the garden and Miss Elizabeth was handing him the letters. "Here," she said, "let us sit on the bench there. The flowers are all in bloom."

"Who are they from?" he asked, taking them from her hand.

"My mother. Her thoughts about Jane's engagement."

He had heard Miss Bennet say it was a letter from their mother, but it had not really sunk in before, as concerned as he had been that something was badly amiss. "And you wish me to read it? I will not if you do not like it, no matter what your sister believes is prudent."

"No, as usual, Jane is correct. It is rather vexing being the younger sister of such a woman." She sighed. "Trust is very important to me, and trust cannot be built when there are secrets. I will not keep this from you, and I do not believe it will come as a surprise. I have mentioned my parents before."

He nodded.

"Jane and I have decided not to see either of them again, and these letters demonstrate why."

"I see," he said. Given what she had related about her parents, he did not anticipate any warm congratulations were being offered in her mother's correspondence. Not for Miss Elizabeth, in any case.

"The only thing we are debating is how to inform them. Once you read these, you might have some ideas."

"I may," he said. He opened Miss Elizabeth's letter and read, hoping that an explanation for her reaction would be there. Then he perused Miss Bennet's missive.

The answer was there. He wished that it had not been.

Darcy squeezed his eyes shut, meaning to control his temper before he frightened Miss Elizabeth.

"Mr. Darcy," she said, and placed her hand lightly on his arm. "Mr. Darcy."

"Miss Elizabeth," he said. "Does your father retain his right to approve your suitors?"

"He ceded that responsibility to Lord Carlisle when we left Longbourn."

He nodded. That would make this simpler. "You may leave this with me."

She studied him carefully. "Are you certain?"

"I am."

"What do you mean to do?"

"I am still forming a plan. But it will be decisive, and it will be soon." He took her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

She met his gaze and held it for a moment. "Yes," she said at last. "I trust you."

Darcy refolded both letters and tucked them into his pocket. "Thank you. I will return these later."

"Will you stay for tea?"

"Not today," he told her. "But I will return the day after tomorrow and stay as long as you wish."

Her expression was a mix of embarrassment, pain, and gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

She trusted him to see to this for her. Darcy took that trust very seriously. He took her hands. "Miss Elizabeth," he said. "I will never allow anyone to hurt you again. Not without a vigorous response."

Miss Elizabeth studied him briefly before nodding. "I believe you."