Mr and Mrs Darcy 02 Suspense & Sensibility (2 page)

Fitzwilliam Darcy's ancestral house bore the imprint of so many generations
that Elizabeth had not yet found her place here. Home was anywhere her husband
was, and Darcy had
done much to ease her way, but the greatness of his
estate required her adjustment. She did not want to depart Pemberley before she
truly felt settled. But family duty beckoned, and they were obliged to answer.

She left the window, returned to her desk, and read once more the
cross-written, blotted lines. As she contemplated her response, Darcy entered.
His tailcoat, leather breeches, and top boots indicated his intent to go
riding.

"Good morning, again." Darcy kissed her cheek. "I came to
invite you for an airing."

She set aside the letter with a heavy sigh.

A frown creased his forehead. "Perhaps instead I should enquire
what I have done to merit such a reception? I realize riding was never your
favorite pastime, but I do not recall your ever greeting the suggestion with
despondency before."

"It is not your invitation that dismays me." Under her
husband's influence, she'd developed greater interest in riding, though in
truth, it was the company more than the activity that appealed to her. She
looked up into his face and smiled wistfully. "I am afraid, sir, that you
have committed crimes of a more grievous nature."

"Indeed?" He set down his hat and leaned against the edge of
her desk. "Name the offenses."

"Like a nursery-tale knave, you have carried me off to your
secluded castle and kept me to yourself for nigh on three months, with no
thought of returning me to the companionship of my family."

"Are you not enjoying our privacy at Pemberley?"

"I did not say I was the one harboring objections."

After the turbulent events that had marked the first few weeks of their
marriage, Elizabeth and Darcy had both relished their retreat to Derbyshire. As
Darcy's seventeen-year-old sister, Georgiana, was the only other resident of
Pemberley, they'd enjoyed a quiet transition to married life. Now that March
had
begun, however, their idyllic sequestered state seemed destined to end
as society made its claims upon them. "Do you think my equestrian skills
can bear the intense scrutiny of a trot through Hyde Park?" she asked.

"Where London society rides to be seen?"

He tactfully avoided further response to her query, but his silence
formed reply enough. She arched her brows, merrily daring him to put his
thoughts into words.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps it is best that we have no plans to
visit town any time soon."

She laughed. "You know that you need not spare my vanity. I harbor
no illusions about the quality of my horsemanship - my goal on any outing is
simply to sit a mount without embarrassing myself." She gestured toward
the letter. "Unfortunately, our rides may indeed take place on Rotten Row
in the near future. I have received another note from my mother this morning.
She reminds me again what a wonderful thing it would be for us to sponsor a
London season for Kitty."

"Have not Jane and Bingley already committed themselves to that
noble cause?"

"Mama now fears that, given Jane's delicate state of health, the
excitement of escorting our sister to balls and concerts might overtax her."

"But the Bingleys do not anticipate their new arrival until
September."

"Surely you cannot seriously expect my mother to defer the pleasure
of fretting over Jane's condition? She has but six months remaining in which to
describe her anxiety to all her acquaintance."

"Ah, yes - I had forgotten about her nerves."

"My father would envy you, for I am sure he is continually reminded
of them." Elizabeth suspected her father spent a good deal of time in his
library of late to minimize the reports of her mother's daily visits to Jane.
Mr. Bennet cared about his eldest
daughter, of course, but didn't require updates
as detailed or as frequent as those Mrs. Bennet was inspired to provide. Simply
show him a healthy grandchild and safe new mother at the end of it all, and he
would be satisfied. "Perhaps we ought to take pity on him and invite him
to London along with Kitty."

"You have agreed to this scheme regarding Kitty, then? When did you
intend to tel! me?"

"I have agreed to nothing yet. You know I would much rather remain
here at Pemberley with you than leap into the social whirl of town - "

"But Kitty has been out for three years now, and Hertfordshire
holds few prospects for her," he finished. "A London season would improve
her chances of meeting an acceptable young man."

"Precisely. And it sounds as ll Jane has her hands full enough
dealing with my mother. Besides, you know how disposed Jane and Bingley are to
always think the best of everyone. When it comes to assessing potential
suitors, you and I would prove more discerning chaperones lor Kitty"

"True." Darcy's face clouded.

She knew he thought of Bingley's sister Caroline, whose own recent
courtship could have profited from greater vigilance. She attempted to divert
his musings. "Georgiana would benefit, as well."

"You wish to marry off my sister along with yours this season?"

"Only if she herself wishes it" Georgiana, unlike Kitty,
possessed an inheritance sizable enough to grant her comfortable independence
should she choose never to wed. "I meant that she might enjoy Kitty's
companionship since they are so close in age."

He leaned over to drop a light kiss on her forehead. "Write to your
sister. Shall we invite Mary, too, while we are about it? Complete our whole
family's husband-hunting at once?"

"I shall ask her, but I doubt she will accept." Elizabeth's
other unmarried sister, critical of the frivolity of society's elite ton, had
already expressed disdain for the whole enterprise.

"Besides," she added, dipping her pen, "if all five of us
sisters married within a twelvemonth of each other, my mother's joy would be
too great for anyone to bear."

Two

His person and air were equal to what her fancy

had ever drawn for the hero of a favorite story.

- Sense and Sensibility,
Chapter 9

"Will
there be any eligible barons there, do you think?" Kitty, the comb in her
hand all but forgotten, gazed expectantly at Elizabeth in the dressing table
mirror. "Or an earl? No - a duke! I would so love to meet a duke tonight!
Might one be there?"

"I daresay there might. But mind, you shall not speak to any
gentleman to whom you have not been properly introduced."

"Of course, Lizzy, of course. But Mr. Darcy knows everybody,
doesn't he? Surely he must know a duke or two."

In truth, Elizabeth was not at all certain who would be present tonight
or how many people Darcy might know. They were engaged to attend a party at the
home of some new acquaintances, Sir John and Lady Middleton. "Mr. Darcy
does not know everybody. Why, he met Sir John only this week, and they have
been members of the same club for years."

"Oh, where is the maid? Well be late if she doesn't dress my hair
soon!"

"She is still ironing your gown." Elizabeth pitied her lady's
maid, so intense
was Kitty's excitement this first week of her first London season. Her sister
hadn't been demanding in an imperious sort of way, so much as desperately
afraid of missing something if she paused a moment to catch her breath. But the
servant had borne Kitty's flurry with patience and good humor. "If you had
not changed your mind so many times about what to wear, we would not be in
danger of arriving late."

Three dresses, donned and discarded, lay on the bed. Pink had given way
to white, then lavender, before blue was determined the most flattering. Kitty
regarded the rejects dubiously. "Perhaps the lavender after all - "

"Kitty!"

A gentle knock on the door interrupted them. Georgiana entered,
fetchmgly attired in a dark green tunic over a white gown trimmed with gold
ribbons. Kitty gasped.

"Oh, dear! My blue gown has gold ribbons!"

"I shall change," Georgiana offered.

"No, no - you are already dressed." Kitty bit her lower lip
and considered once more the pile of cast-off silk and lawn. "I will wear
the pink instead."

"The pink is most becoming," Georgiana said. "I think it
is my favorite of yours."

"Truly?"

The suggestion carried: Pink was now the gown of choice. Darcy's
even-tempered sister had a soothing effect on Kitty, for which Elizabeth was
grateful. Perhaps Georgiana's presence would also spare the maid the trial of
every hair ornament in Kitty's jewelry box before they could depart.

Elizabeth left the younger girls and withdrew to enjoy a few moments'
peace in anticipation of the evening ahead. At her own dressing table, she
tested her headdress to ensure it was secure, then slipped on her gloves and
went in search of Darcy She found him in the hall, hat in hand and wearing his
greatcoat. He glanced at the tall case clock, whose hands indicated that the
Middletons' soiree had already begun.

"Is your sister ready?" he enquired.

"Not yet. She was having a gown crisis, but I think disaster has
been averted."

A look of concern crossed his countenance. "Your mother provided
her with numerous new gowns for the season. What misfortune befell them?"

"The unknown preferences of a duke."

Concern gave way to confusion. "Which duke?"

"Any duke. She has high hopes of meeting an unattached peer tonight
and turning his head. All chance of her future happiness, therfore, now rests
entirely on several yards of pink silk and lace trim."

"I pray they are up to the charge." He looked again at the
clock, then cast an impatient glance toward the staircase. "She shall not
meet anyone if we never leave our own townhouse."

"The soiree will last for hours, and I am certain we will not be
the only guests to arrive late. Most of the
ton
does not share your
strict definition of punctuality."

"They might form a more tolerable group if they did."

"But then who would take note of them? One cannot make a grand entrance
to an empty room."

"Precisely why I prefer to arrive in a timely manner, before an
affair becomes crowded."

Her husband, she knew, did not care to draw attention to himself, nor to
endure the tiresome company of those who did. He favored small gatherings of
intimate friends over large assemblies of near-strangers, intelligent conversation
over mindless gabble. His willingness, therefore, to sponsor Kitty for a full
London season demonstrated affection for Elizabeth surpassing any that mere
diamonds or other baubles could represent.

Tonight's event, she suspected, would be just the sort of crush Darcy
dreaded. She'd heard that the Middletons' parties were
always
crowded affairs, the length of the guest list inspired more by the baronet's
gregarious nature than a realistic understanding of how many people his rooms
could comfortably accommodate. Sir John, who had eight children of his own,
took great pleasure in gathering young people together and wanted to include
everybody in everything. Upon meeting Darcy and learning that he and Elizabeth
had two young ladies in their charge, the baronet had insisted that the four of
them attend Lady Middleton's soiree.

She wondered whether Darcy realized what he had gotten himself into by
accepting the invitation. "Have you any idea how many guests the Middletons
expect?"

"Sir John called tonight's party a small get-together, so I
anticipate a pleasant evening."

Poor Darcy.

She wrestled a few moments with her conscience over whether to warn him
of the probable scene ahead, but decided against spoiling his night any sooner
than necessary "Did Sir John say whether his eldest sons would be there?"
The Middletons had two sons in their early twenties - John, named after his
father, and William.

"They will. They have no titles, however - will Kitty still wish to
meet them?"

"Kitty wants to meet every eligible young gentleman in attendance."

He regarded her warily. "Elizabeth, I trust your sister will
comport herself in a dignified manner?"

"Of course she shall." She prayed.

Since the elopement of their youngest sister, Lydia, last August, Elizabeth
and Jane had worked hard to curb Kitty's more foolish tendencies and check the
undisciplined behavior in which she'd been allowed to indulge with Lydia. Kitty
now, her sisters hoped, comprehended the difference between cream-pot love and
genuine regard, and understood that genteel conduct
solicited
more respectable attention from gentlemen than did brazen flirtation.

"Kitty has learned from Lydias poor judgment, and benefits trom the
steadier influence of our company," Elizabeth added. "Sometimes
entire weeks pass without a single mention of officers or red coats."

"Yes, it seems she has moved on to dukes."