Lord Matlock’s brows had arched in surprise and respect at Mr. Bennet’s words. A short round of discussion on the slave trade and public speaking commenced, the two older gentlemen unconsciously strolling toward a portrait of the late prime minister William Pitt the Younger. Essentially, this single remark on Darcy’s cousin-in-law’s speaking style had launched a conversation that roamed from politics to world events, to changes in the university educational system with contrasts between Oxford and Cambridge, literature favorites, and eventually estate management and country living. As they walked to the dining room, and for portions of the dinner itself, Lord Matlock and Mr. Bennet were engaged in friendly discourse, often oblivious to the discussions or activity around them.

  Frankly, Darcy was amazed. Familiar as he was with both men, he had trusted their inborn civility would override any clashes in their personalities. Neither were the type to ignore honor and the importance of the occasion simply because they irritated the other. Therefore, Darcy had not fretted over uncomfortable tension arising but had considered it probable that Mr. Bennet’s wry jocularity and rustic, occasionally blunt manner of talking would not blend with his uncle’s formal, devoid of humor, reserved style of speech. Shockingly, to him and his family—based on the assorted raised brows and shared silent communications—they smoothly slipped into friendly accord as if fast friends for years.

  Lady Matlock had reorganized the entire dining room, including selecting a table sized precisely for eight diners. Elizabeth sat across the white-linen-draped, elaborately appointed surface from Darcy, both positioned on Lady Matlock’s end. Mr. Bennet was wisely assigned to Lord Matlock’s left, with Jonathan Fitzwilliam across, on the earl’s right. Mrs. Fitzwilliam sat beside Darcy, and the colonel was between Elizabeth and his brother.

  The arrangement and table size allowed easy conversation from end to end. Intellectual discourse absorbed the two older gentlemen and Mr. Fitzwilliam, leaving the others largely on their own. Not that this was a problem in the least.

  “How are you enjoying your stay in London, Miss Bennet?”

  “Tremendously so, my lady. We rarely come to Town, so this journey has been a wonderful treat, particularly due to the circumstances. My sister Jane and I are here, with our long-suffering father, expressly to purchase our wedding gowns and trousseau.”

  “Your sister is to marry Mr. Charles Bingley, is that correct?”

  “It is. Are you acquainted with Mr. Bingley, my lady?”

  “Not as intimately as my nephew, but we have met a handful of times. We also dined with him and Miss Bingley once, at Darcy House. He is an agreeable young man. A great friend to Mr. Darcy for some years now, and in this world that is an accomplishment worthy of rejoicing. What a fortuitous turn of events that two such worthy gentlemen found brides of quality hiding in out-of-the-way Hertfordshire. A double wedding must be the highlight of the decade. You must tell of the plans, starting with the wedding gowns.”

  “Females and weddings!” boomed Colonel Fitzwilliam. “A most riveting topic of conversation! Please, do tell us all about the wedding gown, Miss Bennet. I can’t fathom anything more fascinating. Can you, Darcy?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Have no fear, Colonel, or you either, Mr. Darcy. It is considered bad fortune for the groom to see the wedding dress before the ceremony. I am not sure whether describing the dress counts, but we shan’t tempt the whimsies of fate. Thus, I shall save you from the agony. What I shall say is that we have reveled in the preparations. However, we have discovered it to be an exhaustive process.”

  “Yet marvelous fun, to be sure. Even old married ladies such as myself remember the joy of preparing to be a bride.” Lady Matlock regarded her husband with fondness. “Of all the gowns one purchases in life, none are as special as the one worn when wed. Is that not so, Priscilla?”

  “Absolutely! Mine was chiffon and silk, all in white, naturally, with lace imported from France. Pearl buttons on the cuffs, which were…”

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s lengthy description of her gown continued to an equally detailed visual of her accessories. Every last one! Her dreamy expression matched the worshipful tone, yet not once did she glance at her husband. Apparently, Darcy thought, clothing incited her passions above what Jonathon could manage, not that this was a shocking revelation. After a good fifteen minutes, Darcy felt his mind numbing, the only salvation being Richard’s covert eye rolls and the comically feigned fascination on Elizabeth’s face. Then, just when he felt tingles of horror that Priscilla’s wedding undergarments were next up for illumination, Lady Matlock, bless her soul, took advantage of a minuscule pause to smoothly interrupt.

  “Perfumes! That reminds me. Thank you for the timely remark, my dear daughter. Miss Bennet,” she hurried on before Mrs. Fitzwilliam finished her inhale, “I have discovered a new fragrance at the perfumery in Harding and Howell. It is divine! I like it so much I bought three bottles. I shall never use it all, so would be delighted to gift one of them to you, if the fragrance appeals.”

  “Is it what you are wearing tonight, Lady Matlock?”

  “That is correct, Darcy. I should have suspected you would take note. Not all men are as attentive to the ladies around them, a lesson I despair of teaching certain males present in this room.” She peered pointedly at her sons. Jonathan had the good grace to blush, but Richard merely shrugged and swallowed his spoonful of soup.

  Smiling, Darcy went on, “It is a pleasant fragrance, but am I correct in understanding that the chemicals comprising the perfume will react with some variance on each woman? Meaning this perfume may not smell as divine on Miss Bennet?”

  “Now, this is a man who listens and learns. You see how exceedingly blessed you are, Miss Bennet?”

  “I daresay awareness of my supreme fortune is growing on a daily basis.” Elizabeth smiled at Darcy, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Why, just two days ago, we caught Mr. Darcy at Harding and Howell, where he declared his mission to educate himself on feminine requirements was so vital he sought assistance from any female willing and able to lend him a hand.”

  “Harding and Howell? You actually went inside that place?” Richard dropped his spoon with a clank, the gape directed at Darcy bringing smiles of amusement around the table.

  “Don’t look so aghast, Colonel. There may come a day when such knowledge will benefit you.” At this Richard blanched and choked. Darcy grinned and passed the wine decanter—which Richard gratefully grabbed to refill his empty glass—and then turned to his aunt. “I have you to thank, my lady. I recalled a conversation from some months back, in this dining room, when you mentioned the mall as superior to the Pantheon Bazaar.”

  “Oh yes! Lady Hayes-Smithfield and I were talking about shopping. My word, I did not notice you listening. Impressive. My faith and hope in the masculine gender are restored. I pray you found what you were seeking?”

  She glanced at Elizabeth and Darcy nodded. “I did, yes, even beyond my greatest expectations. Alas, Miss Bennet must wait an entire month to reap the benefits.”

  “It shall be worth the wait,” Elizabeth assured. Her smile infused his heart with joy and rendered him momentarily speechless.

  In fact, throughout the whole meal, Darcy struggled to interact coherently with the stimulating discourse or to remember proper eating habits. All he wanted to do was observe as Elizabeth dazzled his family. Her effortless ability to converse amazed him once again and was plainly pleasing to his aunt and uncle. The conversation was fluid and sprightly, the perfect mixture of inquisitive delving to learn more about his mysterious bride-to-be and the general topics suited for the dining table.

  “William, you must extend my love to Georgiana and inform her I shall call upon her tomorrow.”

  “As you wish, my lady. She has been practicing a new musical piece and yearns to play it for you.”

  The countess chuckled and shook her head. “Yearns is perhaps too strong a word, don’t you think? Do not forget that I am quite familiar with my darling niece
. She is such a sweet-tempered girl, and with maturity, I believe she will overcome her shyness. Have you spent much time with Miss Darcy, Miss Bennet?”

  “Since we have been in London, we have dined at Darcy House several nights now, and yesterday my sister and I passed the afternoon in Miss Darcy’s company. She is an amazing young lady. So kind, witty, and prodigiously talented on the pianoforte.”

  “Georgiana is gifted,” Darcy declared with brotherly pride.

  “No argument on that front from me,” Lady Matlock concurred. “We encourage her to practice and explore her passion, although I doubt our urging is necessary. I have seen her lost for hours at the pianoforte with the only ‘encouragement’ required a reminder for her to eat and drink.”

  “Miss Darcy’s bashfulness is charming. I believe, as you noted, Lady Matlock, that she will conquer her reticence in due time. I sense a firmness and fire within her, which emerges when necessary and will grow as she leaves youth behind.”

  “I agree. Most astute of you to deduce after so little time in her company, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth flushed at Lady Matlock’s praise. “After passing the whole afternoon together, I noted similarities between Miss Darcy and my sister. Jane is quite reserved but possesses a strong spirit. The comparison is the extent of my astuteness.”

  “It is impressive nevertheless,” the countess countered in a tone of finality.

  “Then, if I may be so bold, perhaps it will please you to hear that she was the consummate hostess, of which she gave you the praise and credit. Her shyness disappeared. In fact, she kept us on our toes with her humor and excellent storytelling skills. There was nary a dull moment.”

  Lady Matlock was studying Elizabeth. “Now that I have met you myself, Miss Bennet, I can readily comprehend what my son”—Lady Matlock indicated Colonel Fitzwilliam with a loving glance—“meant in claiming you would be good for Georgiana.”

  Darcy’s soul rejoiced at the approval in his aunt’s eyes and tone. He knew he must have been beaming, based on the sensations swelling within his chest.

  Elizabeth’s rosiness increased. “I only pray to be a sister to her, my lady. Love and friendship reap bountiful harvests for all involved. In Miss Darcy’s case, it is my pleasure, and I am blessed.”

  “Very well said. I agree one hundred percent.” Lady Matlock smiled and then resumed eating.

  The ladies chatter returned to shopping, with Lady Matlock and Priscilla Fitzwilliam heaping advice on the best shops for lace, flowers, clothing, edible delicacies, and more. As captivating as it was to observe the woman he loved forge a bond with his favored aunt, the subject matter was far down Darcy’s list of interests.

  Fortunately, Colonel Fitzwilliam inquired about his previous evening’s appointment at the Jockey Club. A conversation on horse racing and thoroughbred breeding was much more to his liking. With Mr. Bennet, Lord Matlock, and Jonathan Fitzwilliam contributing, the remaining hour passed swiftly.

  As they rose from the table, Darcy touched Elizabeth on the elbow, drawing her slightly to the side. “Before I leave you for the obligatory separation of the sexes, I wanted to tell you how proud I am, Elizabeth. You have utterly dazzled my entire family.”

  “Thank you, William. Although, let’s be honest—is it truly possible to ‘dazzle’ Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam? You know them better than I, so perhaps their bedazzlement is expressed in ways too subtle for my perception.”

  Laughing lowly, Darcy grabbed one of her hands. “My love, the desire to kiss your beautiful mouth is fairly overwhelming at present. It is taking a monumental effort, but I can resist the urge, provided I settle for a kiss to your hand.”

  When the men rejoined the ladies in the parlor an hour later, Mrs. Fitzwilliam was playing the pianoforte while Lady Matlock and Elizabeth were deep conversation on the sofa. The older woman was speaking of Derbyshire and the Matlock area she called home, and Elizabeth was listening intently. She was so engrossed, in fact, that she greeted Darcy with a quick smile and immediately turned her attention back to the countess.

  “You speak so fondly of Derbyshire, my lady. Are you originally from the region?”

  “No, Miss Bennet. My familial roots are Welsh and English, with estate lands near Shrewsbury and Rhayader in Powys. I married Lord Matlock and settled at Rivallain as a new bride. The countryside is vastly different, yet I soon fell in love.”

  “I have traveled minimally outside of Hertfordshire, so can only imagine the differences based on what I have seen on canvas or described in books.”

  Elizabeth’s tone was wistful. Lady Matlock patted her hand and looked upward at Darcy. “In due course, you will visit much of the country. William is fond of travel, although not as fond as he is of staying at Pemberley.”

  “With a home as beautiful as Pemberley, I can understand.”

  Eyes widening in amazement, the countess exclaimed, “You have seen Pemberley? I was not aware! When was this?”

  “In August,” Darcy answered for her. “Divine providence brought Miss Bennet, along with her aunt and uncle, to my very doorstep.”

  “That is an accurate account,” Elizabeth laughed, her gaze sharing in the joke with him. “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner asked me to accompany them on a trip to the Lake District. At the last minute their plans changed, so we traveled to the closer Derbyshire instead. My aunt lived near Lambton when she was young, you see. Naturally, the draw to tour Pemberley was immense.”

  “I do believe the draw of the estate’s fishing ponds were the enticement for Mr. Gardiner,” Darcy teased.

  “And I was drawn to the famed Pemberley library I had heard so much about from Mr. Bingley. It may well be that I fell in love with the library before its owner.”

  “Perfectly understandable.” Lord Matlock intoned from the massive chair where he sat beside Mr. Bennet.

  Mr. Bennet raised his glass toward the earl in an agreeing gesture, then addressed his daughter. “You also traveled to Kent. A most enlightening experience, I have gathered.”

  For the span of several heartbeats, both Darcy and Elizabeth froze. They exchanged an alarmed look, followed by Elizabeth shakily giggling. “I almost forgot. Thank you, Papa. Kent and Derbyshire I can boast, although neither holiday was extensive or involved high adventure. Is this sufficient to qualify me as being well travelled with worldly sophistication?”

  “Perhaps not according to some,” Lady Matlock amusingly admitted. “However, take heart, Miss Bennet. You have an advantage many new brides do not have, including me at the time. You have been to Pemberley, whereas I had never laid eyes on Rivallain. Who knew if the library was worth my leap of faith?”

  Lord Matlock’s eyes rested upon his wife, his countenance atypically unguarded to reveal his great affection for the countess. “Alas, the library at Rivallain does not rival that at Pemberley. I suppose this means I had only my attributes to recommend.”

  In response, her eyes as emotive, Lady Matlock disclosed, “Rivallain was overwhelming to me. Fortunately, I married a marvelous man who aided my adaptation to a new environment. Mr. Darcy shall do the same for you, I am confident—”

  “Indeed I shall,” Darcy inserted firmly.

  “—but if he does not, alert me and I will take care of it.” Lady Matlock peered at her nephew with a mischievous smile.

  The colonel released a loud guffaw. “Trust me, Miss Bennet, if my mother says she will ‘take care’ of something, you can bet it will be done, painfully if necessary! You are warned, Cousin.”

  The other three listening gentlemen contributed their chuckles, but Darcy ignored them. Instead, he focused on the grinning colonel. “I shall heed the warning, Cousin, trusting your claim comes with a wealth of personal knowledge, considering how often your poor mother was forced to administer discipline.”

  Richard grunted, but did not deny the charge. Then, bowing in his aunt’s direction, Darcy promised, “I vow to be extra cautious and diligent to my wife, your ladyship, giving you no cause to reprimand.??
?

  “Wise.” Lord Matlock nodded sagely. “Very wise.”

  Lady Matlock also nodded firmly. Then she turned to Elizabeth. “In all seriousness, Miss Bennet, you have no cause to worry. Pemberley may seem imposing, but the Darcys have made it a home. William is the soul of patience and kindness. I assure you, you will be most happy there.”

  “Thank you. I do not doubt that Mr. Darcy will lead me gently.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam, wearing a sportive grin, contemplated his cousin. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy is patience personified, as all can attest. Even his horses declare it so!”

  “Sadly, a lesson I could never impart to you, Richard. Your horses habitually choose to throw you rather than listen to instruction.”

  “That happened one time, I was fifteen, and the horse refused to jump that creek!” Richard turned to Elizabeth, pointing at Darcy with his thumb. “This braggart was twelve, rode a horse larger than mine, and jumped cleanly over the creek without hesitation.” He shook his head in mock dismay, then groaned dramatically. “Very well, I concede. You are the superior horseman. Just never forget that I trump you at dancing and witty conversation!”

  Lady Matlock said, “Miss Bennet, you have now seen what shall henceforth torment your existence whenever these two inhabit the same room. Their supreme entertainment since childhood is in baiting the other. Presumably, it will continue into their senility. God help us all.”

  “I only relate the truth Miss Bennet already knows, having confessed to me the dreadfulness of William’s dancing and conversation in Hertfordshire.”

  “Colonel! You tease as well as color the truth,” Elizabeth laughingly accused. “I said Mr. Darcy refused to dance, not that he danced poorly. He proved his skill at the Netherfield Ball, dancing with the grace of a gazelle.”

  “Grace of a gazelle? High praise indeed. Is this true, Darcy?” Lord Matlock grinned up at Darcy, who was now the center of attention. Even Mrs. Fitzwilliam had stopped playing and was watching him with an amused gleam in her eyes.