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Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, soon to be Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley, had been in town nearly a week before the invitation had arrived. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, Mr. Darcy had told her—or perhaps warned her—that his aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Matlock, were in town and, as a newly engaged couple, they might be called upon to dine with the Earl and his wife.
She was due back in Hertfordshire in three days’ time, when the wedding preparations would begin in earnest. She had come to town at the insistence of her mother. Having engaged all the best dressmakers in Meryton for Jane’s wedding, when Elizabeth’s own engagement to Mr. Darcy was announced, Mrs. Bennet decried that Elizabeth simply must go to town for her wedding clothes, and no she couldn’t possibly travel with her, there was far too much to do. For, even when Lizzy had acquiesced to her mother’s greatest wish— marrying a man of good fortune—she still found a way to be inconsiderate of mother’s delicate nerves.
Thus, Elizabeth traveled once more to the Gardiner’s house on Gracechurch Street, where she spent the week at various dressmakers being poked and prodded and measured to precision. And when the forewarned invitation had failed to arrive by Elizabeth’s second day in town, it was easily cast out of her mind in favor much happier thoughts of the fineries normally beyond her reach at home.
Of all her sisters, she certainly wasn’t the one to enjoy shopping the most, that title belonged to Lydia. Nor was she considered the most beautiful (Jane) or the most fashionable (Kitty), but as she examined the fine silks and delicate lace of her dresses as they began to be delivered at her aunt and uncle’s home, Elizabeth for once found her mother’s extravagance beyond reproof.
Perhaps, she thought, the invitation would come after the wedding. Elizabeth Darcy could, after all, be condescended to in ways which Elizabeth Bennet could never.
When the invitation finally did arrive, though late and bordering on impoliteness when it did, Elizabeth was thankful she had the additional time to acquire clothes fit for dining with an Earl. While she honestly believed that she and Mr. Darcy, as the daughter of a gentleman and a gentleman himself, respectfully, were of equal station, she wasn’t so obtuse as to recognize there were certainly differences between the situations of their families. And if his aunt and uncle were so determined, as Lady Catherine was, to disapprove of her and her country manners, let them! All the dresses from all the finest dressmakers in the world would do little to change their mind, so she might as well enjoy, for once, the liberties afforded to her as a member of the gentry.
***
Mr. Darcy had also been surprised at the lateness of the invitation to dine with his aunt and uncle when it finally did arrive, though this fact was very much unknown to Elizabeth.
Beyond his initial morning call to Gardiner House when Elizabeth first arrived, he had scarcely seen her while they had both been in town. For, although he could not regret his engagement, there were certain complications that came with marrying a woman of no fortune. As such, he had been forced to quit the country far earlier than he would have liked in favor of meeting with his solicitor in town to arrange the delicate matters of money and business.
It was these very matters that kept him away from Elizabeth, although they certainly didn’t keep his mind as happily engaged as Elizabeth’s own affairs kept hers. Darcy, therefore, had plenty of time to ruminate on the situation with Lord and Lady Matlock. He was rather surprised at their aloof treatment. While Lady Catherine had professed to be ‘his closest relation,’ in his mind that position was held by Lord and Lady Matlock. For, much like their son Colonel Fitzwilliam, his uncle and his wife were usually all that was amiable. Although, he supposed, certain accountancies had to be taken for their rank and status.
Still, the slight was startling.
Twice he had written, but the missives he received in return were short and evasive. Of course, they would be happy to host, but no, a date couldn’t possibly be fixed just yet, as there were theatre tickets, and appointments and various other tasks to complete.
He had even called upon Fitzwilliam House one morning but was told the Lord and Lady were out. Although Darcy could have sworn he heard voices echoing from the parlour.
And so, Darcy conducted his business from his home, spending most of his nights, when business allowed, in only Georgianna’s company. Normally, this arrangement would have been preferable to the exhausting course of social engagements the ton usually required, but every evening Georgiana had regaled him with tales of her and Elizabeth’s latest trips about town. To this dressmaker, and that haberdashery, and oh Miss Elizabeth said the most diverting thing, even snobbish Lady Mary was in raptures.
These stories only allowed Darcy’s resentment to fester. Not only was he jealous Georgiana was spending so much time in Elizabeth’s company while he was shut up in his study, but Elizabeth was charming even those he predicted to be the most set against their match, and still his aunt and uncle could not be prevailed upon for even an introduction.
Finally, almost two weeks into his removal to town, Georgiana announced over breakfast that a letter from Lord and Lady Matlock had arrived.
His agitation was such that the revelation had caused him to start, sending his fork clattering against the China on the table. “Why hasn’t the footman delivered it?” he rushed to stand, “This should have been brought to me directly.”
“There’s no need Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana smiled behind her teacup.
“No need—” she must know how he’d been agonizing over the ordeal. Just as he stood to summon the footman, he noticed Georgiana’s eyes shift to a piece of parchment placed on the table. There was a familiar sparkle in her eyes as she looked up at him.
“You’ve opened it?”
“It was addressed to both of us.” She responded innocently. Perhaps she was spending a little too much time with Elizabeth, he thought.
Regaining his composure and his seat, Darcy reached for the page, recognizing Lady Matlock’s handwriting immediately.
Dearest Fitzwilliam and Georgiana,
It is our sincerest wish that you join us for dinner tonight. A letter requesting the same has been sent to your Miss Bennet and her aunt and uncle. We will dine at six o’clock.
Your loving aunt,
Lady Matlock
“Rather early for a dinner invitation, is it not?” Darcy mused.
“I thought it rather late,” responded Georgiana. Even she who was not formally out in society knew it was unusual to receive a formal invitation to dine only later that same day. “Or are you speaking of the early hour of the dinner?”
“Yes, very unusual for our aunt and uncle to dine so early, especially in town.” Darcy scowled at the page.
“Perhaps they only mean to reserve more time for conversation?” Georgiana looked up at him hopefully.
Fitzwilliam agreed. The intent was for his family to get to know Elizabeth, whether that occurred over an unfashionably early dinner—well it really was of no consequence to him. Although, it did considerably lessen his chances of calling upon Elizabeth prior to the summoned time. Thus, Darcy was condemned once more to business for the foreseeable afternoon, and Georgiana soon took her leave, having agreed to accompany Elizabeth to the dressmaker.
***
At half past five in the evening, Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were announced into the drawing room of the Earl and his wife. After the customary greetings were given to his aunt, uncle, and cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam—who, unable to resist the temptation to tease Darcy, no doubt decamped from his regiment at the first opportunity—his aunt drew Darcy into a mostly one-sided conversation of all the preparations that had been made for the evening.
“Of course, you’ve noticed we’re eating far earlier than usual. But I couldn’t bare making Miss Bennet and her family wait so late,” Darcy didn’t understand this consideration, for he had routinely dined with Elizabeth and, indeed, the Gardiners as well, at much later hours.
“And I’ve had the servants move pianoforte. I didn’t want to embarrass Miss Bennet for her lack of playing.”
Again, Darcy did not understand this consideration. “Eliz—” He started; confusion evident on his face, “Miss Bennet can play.”
“Indeed? You’re sure?”
“Yes,” Darcy’s nerves had been grating him all day—indeed all week—in anticipation of the meeting, causing his tone to falter exasperatedly, “I’ve heard her play many times. She is by no means a master, but I believe even Lady Catherine was entertained when she heard her play at Rosings last spring.”
“Oh! How delightful! Catherine—well never mind.” His aunt signaled for a footman to return the instrument to its normal place. “Now, as far as topics for conversation, I suppose it may be impolite to speak of books—”
“Wha—no, Miss Bennet is a great reader.”
“Is she really?”
“Yes, dare I say she may be the most well-read women among my acquaintance.”
“You’ve certainly found yourself a diamond amongst the country!” his uncle boomed, handing Darcy a glass of port, “Here, son, for the nerves.”
“Yes, I’ve once heard Darcy himself refer to Miss Bennet as the jewel of Hertfordshire.” Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. Darcy colored with embarrassment as he downed his glass.
***
Half an hour later, when Elizabeth, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were announced into the drawing room, Mr. Darcy found the port had done very little indeed. The footman had barely finished his sentence before Darcy was at Elizabeth’s side, tucking her hand into his arm, and escorting her rather promptly across the room to make the much-anticipated introductions.
“Miss Bennet, the Lord and Lady Matlock—my aunt and uncle.”
As Elizabeth greeted his aunt and uncle with her usual grace, Darcy felt his nerves thaw slightly. While many in his circle had pegged Elizabeth for the most opportunistic fortune-hunter, focusing on the material advantage she would gain from their marriage, Darcy was struck by the immaterial advantages he was gaining. Her natural ease in company, her liveliness, her self-assurance. His assets could be accounted and valued—his solicitor had made sure of that this week. However, Elizabeth’s assets were worth much more than even the most robust dowries. Never had there been two more opposite people in character but so alike—
Darcy’s musings were paused when he felt Elizabeth’s gentle tug at his arm, his aunt giving him an amused but knowing look.
“Dearest.” Elizabeth whispered, glancing down to where he still had her hand in a firm grip at his forearm. “Lady Matlock has asked me to join her on the settee.”
“Oh, yes, yes.” Darcy hurried to cover his inattention with bow, quickly fleeing to where Georgiana and Fitzwilliam sat at the pianoforte.
“Ah Darcy, you’ve come to join us. I was afraid you looked rather lost over there just a minute ago. Could it be a pair of fine eyes that has you so out of sorts?” Fitzwilliam smirked.
“Oh, don’t tease him, cousin!” cried Georgiana. “He’s been lovesick for weeks now, I’ve never heard so many sighs from him!”
“You’ve been sighing, have you?” Colonel Fitzwilliam’s laughter was matched by laughter from across the room where Elizabeth was charming his aunt and uncle. For a moment his gaze met Elizabeth’s and she gave him a warm smile before she was forced to turn her attention back to her companions.
“I told you; you needn’t be worried brother,” Georgiana said resuming her playing on the pianoforte. A look Darcy had never seen before crossed her face, but he rather thought she looked a bit smug.
***
Eventually, they were called from the drawing room into the dining room. Darcy had hoped to escort Elizabeth to the table. They had yet to have a moment alone, and he would have liked to have told her how much he admired her in her new gown and how continually amazed he was by her charm and wit and how proud he was that she was to be his wife and a thousand other things—but etiquette demanded his uncle escort her in, and, therefore, Darcy’s hopes were dashed.
If Darcy had any hopes of sitting near Elizabeth at dinner, those were quickly tempered as well when he found himself sat the furthest possible distance from her, while she sat between his aunt and uncle. Through five courses, Darcy tried to remain attentive to his conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and indeed they took pity on him, not demanding much of his attention. Elizabeth spoke so agreeably of Drury Lane with his aunt and so sensibly of her work with the tenants of Longbourn with his uncle, Darcy began to wonder why he was ever nervous for this occasion at all.
However, as dessert was brought the commotion of the servants and clattering of the silverware caused him to lose the thread of Elizabeth’s conversation. He struggled and strained to hear, but to no avail. He had half the mind to shout across the table, but quickly banished that thought from his mind with a shutter when it reminded him of Lady Catherine.
Elizabeth, for her part, enjoyed her time with Lord and Lady Matlock. If they were well—perhaps—at little overexcitable? Elizabeth assumed it was just to put her and Darcy at ease. When Elizabeth had mentioned that she had been to Drury Lane some years ago, Lady Matlock seemed pleasantly surprised—oh that must have been quite the treat! Indeed, when Elizabeth had mentioned she had read almost all the books in Longbourn’s extensive library, Lady Matlock seemed at an utter loss for words— but where do you find the time?
When dessert was finally brought in, and she had successfully charmed a smile out of his lordship describing her work for her father’s tenants, Elizabeth rather congratulated herself. Perhaps there was hope yet that this marriage wouldn’t cause a break with all Darcy’s relations.
The table was set with an assortment of pies and puddings and fruits. Elizabeth had the compulsion to select one of everything, for while she never wanted for anything back home in Hertfordshire, the offerings of dining in the first circles were certainly more plentiful. Still, she thought better of it, reminded of the hours she had spent being measured for her wedding clothes. While she doubted one night of indulgence would make much the difference, her mother’s shrill admonishments still rang out in her head. After gazing longingly at the treats before her, she selected only an orange.
Lady Matlock, having given her guests a detailed accounting of each of the offerings, pushed a silver bowl towards Elizabeth with a smile. “And you must try the ice, Miss Bennet, you won’t have had it before, I’m sure!”
“Indeed, I have.” Elizabeth insisted.
“Really?” Lady Matlock looked incredulous once more. “How wonderful!”
“Yes, I confess, my father and I share a fondness for sweets.”
“That must have been quite the luxury.”
“Certainly, we do not have it at every dinner.” Elizabeth gazed longingly at the bowl in front of her. “Perhaps just a little,” she conceded, “it is, after all, a special occasion.”
***
The night passed quickly after dinner and with not much occasion for Darcy and Elizabeth to speak privately.
Soon Darcy was escorting her to the Gardiner’s carriage. Taking advantage of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s surely intentional effort to give them privacy, Darcy kissed Elizabeth’s hands. “Well done, my love. Well done.”
“You were worried?” Elizabeth smiled.
“No,” Darcy whispered, “I needn’t have been.” Darcy handed her into the carriage.
“It went well then?” Elizabeth asked as she looked down at him from her seat in the carriage, uncharacteristically shy. “Truly?”
Darcy nodded, “Truly.”
***
Darcy rejoined his family in the sitting room where his uncle and Colonel Fitzwilliam were enjoying a nightcap, while Lady Matlock attended to her embroidery, and Georgiana gazed tiredly at the fire in the hearth.
Darcy accepted the glass of port offered by his uncle and tried to appear casual as he stood with his uncle and cousin. In truth he was anxious to hear his uncle’s thoughts on Elizabeth but thought it too impolite for him himself to broach.
“Darcy!” Lady Matlock called, startling Georgianna out of her reverie, “I for one thought you Miss Bennet was delightful.”
“Yes, yes, such lovely manners.” His uncle agreed.
“And fine eyes.” Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered. Darcy glared at him over his glass.
“And so accomplished.” Lady Matlock continued.
“Yes, it is rather shocking how accomplished she is.”
Now Darcy loved Elizabeth. Loved her dearly. And he couldn’t have cared less if she could draw or paint or net purses, but to hear his aunt and uncle describe her so—Darcy paused, “Her accomplishments are very… singular.” He finished skeptically.
“I was rather shocked she had time to read and sing and practice pianoforte. I’ve never enjoyed a performance more, no less from a kitchen maid!” His aunt mused, “I’m not sure our maids—”
The rest of Lady Matlock’s sentence was cut off my Darcy’s sudden sputtering. “Sorry,” he coughed, “kitchen maid?”
“Yes, your Miss Bennet?” Lady Matlock nodded, “If you were trying to hide that—”
“I—wha—what does Elizabeth have to do with a kitchen maid.”
“Lady Catherine told us—right darling—she said—”
“She said you were intent on marrying this servant girl from Hertfordshire.” His uncle finished.
Darcy cursed and Georgiana gasped.
“Eliz—” Darcy broke trying to regain his composure, “Miss Bennet is the daughter of a gentlemen. Her family has owned an estate in the country for generations.”
“So, she’s not—why, Lady Catherine!” Lady Matlock gasped, “she told us—”
“Oh, I have no doubt what Lady Catherine told you.”
“So, she is the daughter of a gentlemen?”
“Yes!” Darcy’s voice rang out louder than he anticipated.
“And her aunt and uncle?” his aunt asked.
Darcy shook his head, “Trade.”
“Oh, what’s the bother with that! A gentlemen’s daughter!” His uncle laughed, “praise the lord.”
“Yes, yes, thank God.” His aunt was now alternating between raising her hands in praise and fanning herself. “Now, we were prepared to accept her, but—oh! This makes things so much easier.”
Darcy’s outrage on behalf of Elizabeth was palpable, he knew Lady Catherine to be overbearing, and disagreeable, but to spread such a vile rumour—his angry thoughts were halted when he registered his aunt’s words. “You were prepared to accept her? Even if she were a kitchen maid?”
His aunt nodded, “I’ll admit, it did cause us much consternation and grief. But Richard assured us you were very much in love.”
Darcy spun around, pointing accusingly at his cousin. “You knew?”
Fitzwilliam simply patted him patronizingly on the shoulder, “I knew either you or Miss Bennet herself would set them straight.”
“Oh,” his aunt cried, “but they must think us quite rude—the invitation was so very late, and we dined so unfashionably early!”
***
The morning after the dinner with his aunt and uncle, Darcy and Elizabeth enjoyed an early morning walk in one of the parks near Gracechurch Street.
“Lord and Lady Matlock were very,” Elizabeth paused searching for the right word, “generous? I’m not sure my playing and singing has ever had such a thunderous reception.”
“Oh, ah, well.” Darcy avoided Elizabeth’s eyes, taking great interest in a pair of ducks swimming in the pond out in the distance. “Your playing was lovely, as always.”
“Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously, “what aren’t you telling me?”
As Elizabeth’s laughter rang out through the park, not for the first time Darcy was thankful he was marrying a woman more prone to fits of laughter than fits of tears.