32. Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

June 5, 1812 London Elizabeth

E lizabeth’s first official social event as Mrs. Darcy happened during the first week of June. Lady de Bourgh had secured invitations to Lady Metcalf’s annual summer ball, and she, Darcy, Charlotte, and Lady de Bourgh were to attend together. Sir Andrew had prior commitments and would be absent that evening.

“Do stop fidgeting, Elizabeth,” Amelia chided gently as the carriage joined the queue leading to the Metcalf’s door. “You look lovely. That color suits you very well.” Charlotte, seated by Amelia, nodded in agreement.

“Indeed, it does.” Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand gently, and she calmed at his touch. “It is much better than light, maidenly colors. The green makes your eyes look all the finer.”

She smiled, though her insides still churned with nervousness. In due time, they had departed the carriage and entered the house. Lady Metcalf and her husband, Sir Winston, waited to greet their guests.

“Lady de Bourgh! It is such a pleasure to see you.” Lady Metcalf was of an age with Lady Catherine, if Elizabeth guessed correctly, but she greeted Lady de Bourgh warmly as one would an old friend. “I heard you visited Kent recently. How did you find it?”

“The same as always, my dear friend. Catherine is as she ever was. I did enjoy my visit with Anne.” Amelia turned. “You know Mr. Darcy, of course, but allow me to introduce his wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. She is a rare gem, and I have taken quite a liking to her. And this is her particular friend and my guest, Miss Charlotte Lucas.”

Elizabeth and Charlotte curtsied in turn, and Lady Metcalf regarded them with a curious expression. “Yes, you are both lovely,” she said finally after a moment’s pause. “Do enjoy the evening. Amelia, I would love to speak with you later.”

Amelia nodded, and they followed her into the ballroom. Mr. Darcy offered Lady de Bourgh one arm and Elizabeth the other. Charlotte walked beside and slightly behind her.

“Tell me, Charlotte, will we dance at all tonight?” Elizabeth murmured as they went. She hoped her friend would dance several sets, and that Mr. Darcy would ask her for the opening set.

Charlotte looked very well in her new ball gown. Its color made her skin look luminescent, and the cut and trimmings suited her figure perfectly. Her hair had been styled to great advantage, too, emphasizing her high cheekbones and heart-shaped face.

“You, I am certain, will dance every dance. If Lady de Bourgh is to be believed, the denizens of the ton will wish to evaluate the new Mrs. Darcy.”

“And judge her worthiness, no doubt.” They came to a stop near a small group of guests and Amelia greeted one of them.

“Mrs. Atkins, it is a pleasure to see you here tonight,” she said. Her tone sounded false, and Elizabeth observed the pinched expression on Mrs. Atkins’s face. A disappointed mama, perhaps? Elizabeth thought it must be so, for there were three ladies with her, their ages appearing to be from twenty to six-and-twenty.

“Mrs. Atkins’s dear mother-in-law is my particular friend,” Amelia informed Elizabeth and Charlotte. She gestured to Elizabeth. “This is Mrs. Darcy. And next to her is my guest, Miss Charlotte Lucas.”

“Pleasure,” Mrs. Atkins said flatly. “How do you do, Mrs. Darcy?”

“Very well.” Elizabeth replied neutrally. “Will you introduce me to your companions?”

Mrs. Atkins nodded and introduced the ladies. “Miss Atkins, Miss Sarah Atkins, and Miss Margaret Atkins. My son, Mr. Reginald Atkins, is over there.”

Elizabeth followed her hand and noted a tall, gangly gentleman standing a little way off with two other men. They seemed absorbed in their discussion and did not acknowledge them.

“Will you dance tonight, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Atkins said, turning to Elizabeth’s husband. “You cannot dance every set with your wife, you know. Lady Metcalf will be expecting you to stand up with all the ladies.”

“I shall do my best to satisfy our hostess,” Darcy replied. “The first set must go to Mrs. Darcy, however, and the second to Miss Lucas.”

“I see. Well, do not stand by the wall all night as I have often seen you do.” Mrs. Atkins then turned back to her daughters, effectively dismissing them.

They moved away, and when they were far enough from the group that they could not overhear, Amelia chuckled. “Poor Mrs. Atkins. She tried very hard to secure Darcy for her eldest.”

Elizabeth turned an inquiring gaze at her husband. He nodded. “Susanna Atkins has been out since she turned eighteen. She is now six-and-twenty. Her mother has attempted to match her with me the last four seasons.”

“One of the ladies that attempted to swoon before you?” Elizabeth said it teasingly, but her husband replied in the affirmative.

“Yes. She sprained her ankle in the attempt. Mrs. Atkins was most seriously displeased.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling in good humor.

“I suppose I ought to express my pleasure that her attempt failed so spectacularly. Otherwise, I would not now be on your arm.” A few weeks prior to that moment, Elizabeth’s inner musings would have mourned that Miss Atkins had failed, but now she felt some slight relief instead. Being Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy has not been the burden I expected it to be.

The first dance was called, and Darcy escorted Elizabeth to their place on the dance floor. They spent an agreeable half an hour in each other’s company, and after their set concluded, Amelia continued to introduce Elizabeth to the other guests. Darcy hovered at her elbow, though he did leave her to dance with Charlotte. Elizabeth, too, joined that set, dancing with Viscount Bramwell, who had arrived slightly late, but eager to dance with his new cousin.

After supper, Elizabeth found a seat near an open window. She felt exceedingly hot and somewhat nauseous but attributed her state to too much food and the heat of the ballroom.

Positioned as she was behind a trio of guests, she could observe and hear much without being seen. She saw Darcy moving toward her, though he had not yet noted her exact position. She smiled, wondering how long it would take him to locate her.

He came within ten feet of her seat before another claimed his attention.

“Dear Mr. Darcy,” the lady said. Elizabeth recognized her as one of the more petulant ladies Amelia had introduced. Mrs. Timmons, she recalled.

The lady continued, placing a hand on her husband’s arm. “It is such a joy to see you, sir. I have not had the pleasure of your company in some months. Annabelle missed seeing you.”

“Yes, I have been away from London for some time. I spent the autumn in Hertfordshire and much of the spring in Derbyshire and Kent.” His stiff posture spoke of his wish to be away, and Elizabeth stood to go rescue her husband.

“Ah, yes, in the country. And in which location did your bride manage to secure you?” The implication in her words was obvious and Elizabeth waited for her husband to issue a set down.

“Elizabeth and I met in Hertfordshire and again in Kent.” His matter of fact reply did nothing to disabuse the nosy matron of her suppositions.

“It is good of you to behave so honorably.” Mrs. Timmons smiled a poisonous smile and Elizabeth bristled.

“If you will excuse me, I must find the rest of my party.” Darcy bowed and moved away, not having seen Elizabeth. She sat again, irritated at his lack of defense. Perhaps he did not realize… But, no, could she excuse his behavior? He, a man who had lived in the world, would certainly know a subtle insult, would he not?

Elizabeth overheard several more conversations while she sat, the new Mrs. Darcy the subject of every single one. Two or three conversations were complimentary, but most criticized her lack of fortune, connections, and breeding, and every single one thought she had somehow trapped her husband into matrimony.

Charlotte found Elizabeth some time later, still hiding on her settee by the window. “So, this is where you have secreted yourself,” she teased.

“It is. I find I am unequal to parrying insults and insinuations.” She told Charlotte of the overheard conversations and her husband’s paltry replies to his discussion with Mrs. Timmons.

“Can he be so obtuse?” Elizabeth asked. “The lady’s purposes were clear to me. Did he not understand? And is it so unbelievable that there were other inducements besides fortune and connections that led to my marriage?”

“For these people it is. Marriage is a business agreement for many in these circles. Mr. Darcy married so far outside their expectations; it was guaranteed that there would be some gossip surrounding his choice.”

Elizabeth nodded. Charlotte stood and she followed suit. Together, they meandered the edges of the ballroom until they found Amelia and Mr. Darcy. They were by the refreshment table speaking to the Metcalfs.

“There you are!” Amelia said. “We have been looking for you for the last half an hour.”

“I found a comfortable seat near an open window. Forgive me for disappearing.” Elizabeth smiled politely, and her husband came to her side and touched her elbow.

“You are well, are you not, Elizabeth?” he asked seriously. “You seem a little out of sorts.”

“I am well, sir. Lady Metcalf, I have been enjoying myself fully. Thank you for the gracious invitation.” Elizabeth knew her smile was not genuine, but Lady Metcalf would never know.

The evening drew to a close and they departed. Elizabeth felt exhausted; she had been required to present a pleasant facade without ceasing the entire night, and now she only wished to rest.

“Come to tea, tomorrow, my dear,” Amelia commanded as the footman helped her out of the carriage. Charlotte followed, bidding Elizabeth farewell as she went.

Elizabeth replied in the affirmative and the carriage door closed. A few moments later, they were in front of Darcy House. The footman opened the door and her husband climbed out, turning to offer his hand to Elizabeth. She took it and when her feet were firmly on the ground, she looped her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked as they climbed the steps to the front door.

“Yes,” she murmured. She spoke the truth; she had enjoyed herself—for most of the evening. Truly, it had been too crowded for her taste. What would he do if she said she did not wish to attend such extravagant, well-attended events?

They went to their respective chambers and Smith quickly divested Elizabeth of her gown, jewels, and hair pins. She braided her mistress’s hair and helped her don her nightgown. Elizabeth climbed beneath her coverlet and sank into the soft pillow, sighing in relief and appreciation.

The door to the shared sitting room creaked open and Darcy appeared in the doorway. He came to her bed and climbed under the coverlet next to her. Elizabeth rolled over and snuggled into his arms. She felt unaccountably comfortable there, and his touch soothed away the snide remarks she had overheard that evening. She felt him kiss her hair and she snuggled closer in response. Breathing in the smell of sandalwood and cedar, she fell asleep.

Elizabeth awoke the next morning alone, and she felt a pang of sadness that she had not awakened in Darcy’s arms. His presence brought her comfort, and her heart softened toward him daily. She supposed that when one shared such intimacies with another human being, it would naturally lead to the sentiments she felt stirring within her.

She rose and rang for Smith, who appeared expeditiously, dressing her in a deep blue day gown. After being properly attired, Elizabeth left her chambers and went down to breakfast. Georgiana had already come down and awaited her sister-in-law.

“You must tell me everything,” she commanded after greeting Elizabeth.

“Very well,” Elizabeth laughed. Over breakfast, she related the details of the evening, answering Georgiana’s many questions as best she could.

After breakfast, Elizabeth meant to see to her correspondence, but first she wished to find her husband. They had dined together every day since their marriage, and she had missed him that morning.

She found him in his study. He sat behind his great desk, papers spread before him in an organized manner.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.

He looked up, frowning. “Elizabeth, what do you mean by this?” He waved the paper in his hand at her.

“If you will show me what that is, I might better understand what you refer to,” she replied. Her cheer diminished in the face of his disapprobation, and old feelings of irritation and resentment pushed to the surface. What has he to accuse me of?

“This is a bill from Gardiner’s Imports. I believe that I specifically forbade you from going to Cheapside for fabric.” He waved the paper at her and then tossed it on the desk in front of him.

“I did not go to Cheapside.” She folded her arms, unrepentant.

“Then why do I have a bill?”

“A selection of fabrics was brought to Amelia’s home. We selected what we wanted and sent the rest back.” She suppressed the smug smile that wished to blossom on her face and kept a neutral expression.

He regarded her steadily, eyes narrowing. “I do not appreciate your attempts to circumvent my requests,” he said after several long moments.

“You said I must not go to Cheapside, and I did not. What have I done wrong?” Her temper flared and she struggled to push it down.

“You could have shopped at Bond Street as I requested. Yet, you defied me.” His frustration showed and he ran a hand through his hair, destroying his valet’s careful arrangements.

“Have you some objection to my selections simply because they came from my uncle’s warehouses? Where do you think the Bond Street shops get their wares? I shall tell you where— from Cheapside merchants! I did not go myself and am therefore completely within the bounds of your dictates .”

“It is the principle of the thing, Elizabeth. Are you to circumvent every request I make?” He gestured with his hands as he spoke, his face showing his irritation.

“It was not a request. It was a demand. But I see now that it was not my presence in Cheapside that worried you. No, you are concerned that I shall sully the Darcy name if I wear anything even remotely connected to that area of town. Tell me, Mr. Darcy, did you not admire my gown last evening? Did you not express how it suited me perfectly? That fabric came from my uncle’s warehouses, and even Madame Dubois expressed her admiration for it.” She sucked in a breath, struggling to calm herself. “I shall abide by your orders, your dictates, and your requests when they are reasonable. If you command simply to control me, I shall do everything in my power to get around them without direct disobedience. In this circumstance, I have done nothing wrong, and you should have no cause to censure me. Now, I will bid you good morning. I have things to do.”

She turned and left the room, feeling anxious and irate that he had discomposed her. She did not regret her decision to have Aunt Madeline bring the fabric to Lady de Bourgh’s house and she would not apologize when she had done nothing wrong.

Retiring to her private parlor to see to her correspondence, Elizabeth had time to reflect on the confrontation that morning. After much thought, she knew that her true pique came because she chafed at the idea of being controlled. He was officious, yes, and so very used to having his every command obeyed. Darcy’s desire to command and direct all those within his purview interfered with her strong, independent nature, and she disliked feeling as though she could not make her own decisions without risking censure or disapproval. Besides, had he not married her because she was very different from the other more complying ladies he had met?

What bothered her further was that for the first time in her life, she did not feel confident in her decisions. She had never been made for sadness and never allowed poor spirits to linger for long, yet for some inexplicable reason, her depressed spirits refused to be kept at bay for longer than a few days.

Darcy did not appear for luncheon or when she left the house for tea and Elizabeth, in need of some time to think through her feelings, did not repine his absence.

Lady de Bourgh did not waste time upon her arrival and began dissecting the evening for Charlotte and Elizabeth.

“Lady Metcalf invites the entire ton to her ball,” she said. “Charlotte told me of the conversations you overheard. Do not let it trouble you. Find like-minded individuals and befriend them. Remember, the Darcy name carries much weight and influence. Even the most disapproving will not wish to lose a connection of such value.”

“Can we not attend events that are less strenuous?” Elizabeth asked. “I did enjoy myself, but I would be happier with smaller, more intimate gatherings.”

“I have several that fit that description.” Lady Amelia leafed through a small stack of invitations. “There is a musical soiree in two days. Next week, Mrs. Turner will host a card party and Mrs. Simmons has scheduled afternoon tea. She has a lovely garden. Her gatherings are exclusive, you know, and it is difficult to secure an invitation.” Amelia listed two or three other events and Elizabeth wrote them into her little pocket notebook to be added to her calendar.

After tea, Amelia left them for a moment and Elizabeth told Charlotte all that had happened that morning.

“How can he be so contrary, Charlotte?” she asked, exasperated. “One moment I am comfortable in his company, desiring his presence, and the next I wish to be rid of him completely. It is nonsensical!”

“Most married couples are of similar opinion, I am sure.” Charlotte smiled wryly, patting Elizabeth’s hand comfortingly. “Have you found anything more to admire?”

She considered the question. “He is loyal and caring. I do not go without, and he always makes certain I am content. He is a wonderful older brother, too. Georgiana loves him, and as she has no guile, I know her happiness to be genuine. He is not miserly, and he is a good master.” She sighed. “Why are his good traits so exceptional and his bad ones exceedingly terrible?”

“What bad traits do you speak of?” Amelia came in, her walking stick thumping as she came. “And who has them?”

“Darcy,” Elizabeth replied automatically. Amelia knew it all, and so she did not fear censure for her thoughts.

“Do tell.” Amelia sat in her favorite chair and leaned forward expectantly, hands on her walking stick.

“He is officious and controlling. His pride is abominable; he is far too worried about what others think of him. I know more of him and his treatment of those he once cared for, too. And yet… I find that some things I cannot reconcile with the man I am coming to know intimately. How can he treat his servants so well and a childhood friend with such disdain?”

“Have you considered that some information you have might be faulty?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Faulty in what way?”

Amelia smiled. “Perhaps that is not the correct word to use. Maybe incomplete or inaccurate would be better. This childhood friend you allude to, the one that you say Darcy treated badly, could there not be a reason why your husband had withdrawn his good opinion of him? What do you know about the friend? More than you know about Darcy?”

She considered Amelia’s questions with all seriousness. What did she know about Wickham? He was charming, handsome, and amiable… and he had used that to steal from every family of worth in and around Meryton. Darcy, though officious and controlling, was no thief. She chastised herself. I ought to have considered that sooner. Really, Lizzy, you are a dullard lately.

“I suppose I must forgive him and learn to tolerate his manner.” She said the words contritely, her gaze on her hands. Elizabeth had always been quick to forgive in the past. Now it should be no different. Guilt gnawed at her for her grudging, petulant behavior. Am I no better than Lydia?

“Remember what I have said about marriage, Lizzy,” Charlotte said gently. “If your happiness is a matter of chance, do everything you can to help it along.”

“Besides, it is a wife’s responsibility to soften her husband’s rougher edges.” Amelia huffed. “You have been married only a month. Give your regard time to grow and flourish. Though you did not begin with a love match, there is no reason your marriage cannot become one.”

Elizabeth smiled in gratitude. “Something must be wrong with me!” she said laughingly. “Never before have I been so unable to solve my own problems. I feel befuddled and confused more often than not.”

“Love and marriage have that effect on people,” Amelia replied, amused. “I am pleased we have been available to help you sort through everything.”

Feeling much better, Elizabeth farewelled her companions and returned to Darcy House. She went to her chambers until it became time to dress for dinner. Smith appeared at five o’clock with a lovely dinner gown of gold and red silk and a jewelry case in one hand.

Elizabeth opened the unfamiliar case to reveal an intricate gold necklace studded with rubies. A single tear-shaped ruby hung in the center of the necklace. A note with a single sentence accompanied the gift. I am sorry, written in her husband’s strong, masculine handwriting.

Smiling, she fingered the beautiful necklace, resolving to accept her husband’s apology and work toward ‘softening his rough edges,’ as Amelia suggested.