Chapter 10

First, thank you all for the kind words. I still can’t figure out why I’m struggling, but I’m working on it. And your support means everything.

Sorry for the cliffhanger last time, lol. Hopefully you enjoy the follow-up.
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Darcy straightened his posture as he regarded his cousin.

“All three of us?” he queried. “Whatever do you mean, Philip?”

Rowarth lifted the letter. “Father has written to demand our immediate appearance in London regarding the unfortunate business of the other day, and he has included a few lines from Mother requesting that Miss Elizabeth Bennet be escorted to Disley House to be introduced to her.”

“Your mother wishes to meet me?” countered Elizabeth, her surprise evident.

“Pray forgive me, dear Lord Rowarth,” spoke up Miss Bingley, “but why would your excellent mother wish to meet with her, of all people? Miss Elizabeth has not the connections that my family does.”

Only his strict upbringing prevented Darcy showing his displeasure at the insult to Elizabeth. Rowarth, though a student of the same teachings, was less disciplined than he… or perhaps he’d finally had enough of the lady’s obvious attempts to secure herself a title.

“I surmise, madam, that Lady Disley desires to meet with Miss Elizabeth as she was unfortunately caught up in the scheme and may yet have to marry my cousin—”

“Surely not!” cried Miss Bingley. “There have been no rumours—”

“And how would you know, Caroline?” interjected Hurst. “You have not set foot outside of this house except to attend dinner parties, and even then, you did so with reluctance because you think the society hereabouts inferior.”

“Because it is!” said Miss Bingley as she crossed her arms in a huff. “Not one of the four-and-twenty families Mrs. Bennet so rudely boasted of has the class, manners, or sophistication that our society in London has!”

“For which I am heartily pleased, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth as she stood from the piano bench. “If the lot of the ton are anything like you, we are much the better for not having the class, manners, or sophistication of London society. I would much rather engage with the likes of the four-and-twenty families that make up my neighbours than anyone with the same snobbish, elitist attitude with which you conduct yourself.”

Caroline Bingley gasped and sputtered in astonishment as Elizabeth was stepping out from behind the pianoforte. The latter lady turned to Bingley and said, “Mr. Bingley, pray accept my apologies for speaking so rudely in your house; I am afraid I could no longer hold my tongue.”

Bingley flashed an angry glare at his sister before replying, “Do not make yourself uneasy, Miss Elizabeth. I believe she had it coming.”

“Charles!” yelled Miss Bingley. “Are you really going to allow this country chit to speak to me in such a vulgar manner?!”

He turned to her fully. “Not only am I going to allow it, Caroline, I am going to support her sentiments,” Bingley retorted. “I do not know what they taught you at that school our father sent you to, but I daresay your lessons did not include instruction on how to be a harpy.”

Hurst snorted in amusement as both his wife and Caroline gasped in shock. Rowarth, Darcy could see, was fighting a grin; Elizabeth’s expression was neutral, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. For himself, Darcy could not help thinking that it was about time his friend gave his sister a set-down.

“You have made it clear from the moment we arrived in Hertfordshire that you dislike this part of the country intensely and wish only to return to London,” Bingley was saying. “You have disdained our neighbours and insulted them at every opportunity, and I will no longer stand for it. Your conduct is as far from ladylike as one could get, and until you can improve it, you are not welcome in my house.”

Caroline Bingley’s face drained of color. “Ch-Charles, you cannot mean that!” she stuttered.

“Oh, I mean every word,” Bingley shot back, and by the tone of his voice, Darcy could believe he did mean it.

“You have just embarrassed me and our sister and brother before my friend and his cousin, the latter of whom happens to be a viscount. I have tolerated your ill-mannered remarks because you were for the most part good enough to say them behind closed doors, as they say, but now you have exposed your wickedness to others. You will go upstairs and you will pack your things, as you are to leave tomorrow morning. You are welcome to establish yourself in the townhouse I rented in Harley Street, as I intend to remain at Netherfield through the winter.”

“Charles,” said Miss Bingley, her voice wavering. “Please don’t do this. If I return to town alone, people will talk!”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that, Caroline, before you insulted a guest in my house,” Bingley said sternly, before crossing his arms and turning away from her.

“Louisa, say something!” his younger sister pleaded to the elder.

Mrs. Hurst, whose countenance was one of resignation, shook her head. “No, Caroline,” she said softly. “I think it best you return to town and take some time to consider how you will make things up to our brother.”

Seeing her staunchest supporter defect before witnesses appeared to shock Caroline Bingley to her core. She stared wide-eyed at her sister for a full minute, then stomped her foot and declared “This is madness!” before she stalked out of the room.

Bingley took a step towards Elizabeth. “I beg your every pardon, madam, for my sister’s ill-mannered conduct. I regret allowing her to have her way for so long.”

Elizabeth favored him with a smile. “You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. Bingley. I have heard from my aunt who lives in London that some young ladies mistakenly model themselves after the worst traits of society daughters rather than the best.”

Mrs. Hurst cleared her throat. “The girls at school were very unkind to us,” she said. “Although we had as fine a wardrobe as any of them, they never let us forget that our father’s fortune came from trade, and we were mocked and belittled for it.”

Bingley snorted. “So, you and Caroline modeled yourselves after the same sort who made you feel less than they? What foolishness.”

“It is understandable, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said diplomatically. “In my experience, girls have changed their behavior even to their detriment in an effort to be accepted by their peers. I believe it is why my sister Kitty so foolishly follows Lydia’s lead—because she just wants to be included.”

Mrs. Hurst looked at Elizabeth with a surprised expression. “Why yes, Miss Elizabeth. It was quite like that. We… We just wanted the other girls to like us and stop mocking us. So, we started acting like they did.”

Elizabeth’s gaze was sympathetic, before it became serious as she turned it to Lord Rowarth. “Sir,” she said, “I believe you are correct in Her Ladyship’s reasons for wishing to meet with me, and despite the circumstances, I am deeply honored by the invitation. However, I would require the permission of my father to go, and there is also my sister to think about. Jane is still weak, and—”

“Miss Elizabeth, I do not doubt that my aunt has sent her own letter to your father regarding her invitation,” spoke up Darcy.

Rowarth grinned. “She has indeed, cousin. Father mentions that here,” he said, gesturing with the letter in his hand.

“And as to Miss Bennet,” said Bingley, “I will see to it that she is attended at all times by a maid. You need not worry for her welfare.”

Elizabeth smiled. “You are very kind, Mr. Bingley, and I do not doubt that your girls will look after my sister. I just cannot imagine leaving her when she is still so ill. And what of a maid? I cannot go to London, even to the home of a countess, without a lady’s maid, and I have not one in my employ or my father’s who could be spared.”

“She’s absolutely right, Charles. It would be insupportable,” said Mrs. Hurst. The lady then brightened and added, “Hannah! She has been trained to serve as a lady’s maid by my own, when it is necessary.”

“Is it Hannah who has been helping me to dress every day?” Elizabeth asked.

Mrs. Hurst nodded. “It is. She has served you well, has she not?”

Elizabeth nodded. “She has been wonderful. Hannah even managed to get an ink stain out of the cuff of the yellow gown I wore the day before yesterday—I thought it would be impossible, but she managed it.”

“And the six inches of mud from the gown you were wearing when you arrived at Netherfield,” Mrs. Hurst quipped.

Elizabeth laughed. “For which I am grateful! The maids at Longbourn are always shaking their heads at me when they see I have mud on my skirts and petticoats, which is more often than they would wish.”

She drew a breath then and her gaze roamed between Darcy and Rowarth. “I am honored to be invited to meet with Her Ladyship. Though as I said, we shall have to wait until I hear from my father regarding the visit.”

“You do not think he will deny my mother’s request?” Rowarth asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I cannot imagine my father refusing the request of a countess, even one to whom he has not been introduced. Even were he so inclined, my mother would never allow it—though I must warn you, Mrs. Bennet will see this invitation as my being approved of by your mother. I daresay she will expect me to return from London either engaged or married to you or Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy could imagine that Elizabeth was feeling mortified by the confession, but he sensed she’d thought it necessary to be so candid. Given her revelations at the cottage about her family’s circumstances, he surmised that Mrs. Bennet was more than a little desperate to see her daughters married.

“Miss Elizabeth, will you be so kind as to prepare yourself to make the journey with us while we await word from Longbourn?” Rowarth asked then.

Elizabeth nodded. “Certainly, my lord,” she replied, then curtsied and turned to walk away.

Darcy watched her go, and when she had passed through the door, his cousin said, “We should begin our own preparations, Darcy.”

Darcy inclined his head. “Agreed. Your father will not like to be kept waiting—if Mr. Bennet does not take too long in sending word about Elizabeth, we may just arrive at Disley House before supper.”

“Before you go, my lord,” spoke up Bingley. “I should also like to offer my sincerest apologies to you. My sister’s conduct toward you has been presumptuous at best, and her behavior tonight inexcusable. Please forgive us having what amounts to a row in your presence.”

Rowarth regarded him solemnly. “Think no more of it, Mr. Bingley. You have taken measures to correct your sister, and I am certain she knows that if she has any hope of a good match and further connections in society, she had best amend her manner.”

“One can hope she understands that now, my lord,” Bingley replied.

Rowarth asked Bingley to see to it that both his and Darcy’s carriages were prepared, then the cousins took their leave and made their way to their rooms. “What do you think, Darcy,” Rowarth asked as they were ascending the stairs, “about Mother asking to meet Miss Elizabeth?”

Darcy scoffed. “You and I both know that it was not a request, however she worded her letter to Mr. Bennet.”

“True enough,” said his cousin. “But what do you think of it?”

They reached the landing before Darcy replied. “I think that your father has shared the whole of the tale with your mother, and after mulling it over for the last two days, she has decided that she must evaluate Elizabeth’s worthiness to be brought into the family—not that I need her permission or approval.”

“Indeed, you do not,” agreed Rowarth. “But you desire it anyway, do not you?”

Darcy stopped before his chamber door. “Certainly, I wish for Aunt Frances to like the woman I choose as my bride,” said he. “Whether that woman be Elizabeth or another.”

Lord Rowarth smirked. “It will be Elizabeth, I am sure. You’ve already stopped calling her ‘Miss’, and we’ve already established that you like her.”

With a jaunty wave, he crossed the hall and entered his room. Darcy shook his head and entered his own, calling out for his valet as he did so. Vincent immediately stepped out of the dressing room, and after receiving instructions to pack his belongings, he ducked back into it.

Darcy quickly gathered what few personal items were distributed around the bedchamber and carried them into the dressing room to be packed. Although his man always insisted he did not need the help, he nevertheless aided him in packing his clothing so that the task would be done faster.

By the time the bell had been rung and a footman summoned to help carry his luggage downstairs, the viscount was packed also. The two met Elizabeth on the landing at the top of the stairs.

“I have spoken to Jane and have asked Hannah to pack my belongings,” she said. “We have only to await word from Longbourn.”

“I imagine it will come along at any moment,” Darcy assured her. “How did Miss Bennet take the news that you were to leave her?”

“Very well,” Elizabeth replied as she turned for the stairs. “Although I impressed upon her the likely reason for this interview, she is excited for me. I shall be meeting a countess!”

The last she said with mock excitement, and Darcy suspected by the set of her shoulders that she was nervous and endeavouring not to show it. He understood why, and for his part felt nervous about the meeting as well. Lady Disley was far better mannered than Lady Catherine, but she could be just as intimidating. She was a fierce protector of the family reputation, and he was certain of the belief that she had asked to meet Elizabeth to ascertain whether she would bring shame to the family if he was forced to marry her.

The three returned to the music room, from which they could hear strains of Bach as they walked. Mrs. Hurst sat at the pianoforte toiling away at the keys while Bingley and Hurst nursed drinks of amber liquid.

“Has there been any word from my father, Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, Miss Elizabeth, not as yet,” Bingley said. “Though I do not imagine it shall be long, if he received a letter from Lady Disley at the same time Lord Rowarth received his father’s note.”

“Agreed, Mr. Bingley,” said Rowarth. “For all we know, the same man delivered mine and his.”

Darcy watched Elizabeth approach the instrument, where she offered to turn the pages for Mrs. Hurst.

“Certainly,” said she, and she scooted to make room for her on the bench.

Mrs. Hurst had just finished the Bach concerto a few minutes later when Winston entered with the salver again. This time he headed for Elizabeth, who rose from the instrument to take it from him. As she opened it to read, the butler turned to his master and said, “Sir, the footman who delivered that note from Longbourn also brought with him a trunk for Miss Elizabeth.”

“Whatever for? She already has a trunk of clothes,” said Bingley.

“My mother, the matchmaker,” Elizabeth groused. “The reason it took so long to hear from my father is because my mother insisted on him delaying his reply so that she could see to it my best ballgowns were packed, though I am to see to it I order more while in London so that I do not embarrass the family in front of nobility.”

“As if you would do such a thing,” Darcy assured her.

She smiled briefly at his remark, then said, “Thank you for that, Mr. Darcy. But I did warn you and Lord Rowarth of her expectations. I do not think it occurred to Mamma that we are likely to be in town only a day or two and shall not have reason to attend any balls or parties.”

Darcy glanced at his cousin, who snorted and said, “You don’t know my mother. If she likes you, she’ll want to introduce you to a ‘select few’ of her friends to gauge their opinion of you.”

“Wonderful,” Elizabeth said drily. “I am either to be dismissed as a provincial nobody not worth her time or paraded about like a debutante in her first Season.”

Darcy took a step towards her and reached out to touch her arm. Elizabeth looked up at him, curiosity in her eyes.

“Please do not speak so meanly of yourself, Elizabeth,” he said softly. “You are far more than either of those descriptors.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Am I, now?”

He smiled. “You are. Recall that I have confessed I find you handsome.”

The twitching grew to a grin, and her eyes took on the familiar impertinent glint he was coming to adore. “I believe you did, sir—as well as something about my eyes. Which, taken into consideration with the threat of marriage, I daresay means you at least shall not be mortified by my person when we are out in society.”

Darcy smiled. “No, indeed. And though we have yet to determine whether marriage will be necessary, it is my sincere hope that you shall, in time, feel the same way about me.”

“Oh, I have never thought you only tolerable and not handsome enough to dance with, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth retorted. “And though I did think it would be a punishment to stand up with you at Sir William’s party last week, that was only because you had insulted me and my neighbours and I was essentially returning the favor. But we are past all that now, are we not?”

Darcy glanced at the smiling faces of Rowarth and Bingley before looking back to Elizabeth to say, “I am happy to say that I believe we are.”