Page 43 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

How kind of her to go to such trouble for me.

“Since your future engagement to Darcy is a secret for now, our association can be explained by your connexion to Darcy through your brother-in-law and your friendship with Georgiana.”

“Thank you, my lady. I appreciate your consideration.”

“You are welcome.” The countess’s hand swept towards Mr. Wood. “As for you, your familial connexion and the fact you reside at Darcy House are advantages, and my family’s public acceptance of you will encourage others to follow suit.” She smoothed the skirt of her gown. “My nephew indicated you wish to retain the name of your adoptive parents.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I urge you to reconsider. For you to retain the name of a tradesman will be a constant reminder of your former life. In contrast, if you take the Darcy name, your acceptance by my friends and neighbours will be facilitated.”

Mr. Wood pressed the back of his hand to his lips. “My late parents were admirable people in every way, and I want to honour them.”

“Your intent is commendable. But contemplate whattheywould want for you. Do you not believe they would encourage you to take your true name and accept the associated advantages of that choice?”

Mr. Wood fiddled with the buttons on his coat. “I am…not certain.”

“Although you never had the opportunity to meet them”—the countess gave Fitzwilliam a brief look—“Mr. George Darcy and Lady Anne Darcy were fine and admirable people.”

“Yes, I know. My cousins have shared enough anecdotes about them to make that clear.” Mr. Wood released a heavy breath. “On second thoughts, I see your point. I should be honoured to take the Darcy name.”

“That is excellent.” Lady Matlock clapped her palms together. “Now then, I must return to Rosings Park in a few days, so we have no time to waste. I should like you both to attend two afternoon parties here, tomorrow and on Thursday, so you may meet the best and most influential people without delay.”

“Excuse me, my lady.” Mr. Wood, or rather Mr. Miles Darcy, tilted his head. “At some point, I shall encounter people who knew me in Bath. I doubt anyone of the gentry will associate me with the cobbler’s shop, since we almost always dealt with servants, but those who commissioned my portraits know me as ‘Mr. Wood’.”

Lady Matlock nodded. “Yes, and you must have signed your paintings that way. Well, you may sign any future paintings as ‘Mr. Darcy’ and explain your former use of an alias as a choice you took to honour the couple who raised you. You may say that since you have connected with your Darcy relations, you decided to use your true name.”

“Very well.” He shifted to face me. “Miss Bennet, lest it may prove cumbersome to be acquainted with two Mr. Darcys, you and your family could refer to me as ‘Mr. Miles’. What do you think?”

“Yes, I like that suggestion.” I turned towards my aunt and uncle, who both expressed their agreement.

The countess related a series of admonitions designed to increase our chances of success and minimise the risk of raising anyone’s vexation. She said nothing surprising or alarming, yet her instructions exacerbated my anxiety: What would happen if, despite my best efforts, these exalted denizens rejected me?

Wednesday, 3 June

Gracechurch Street

Elizabeth

Due to the warm, sunny weather, Fitzwilliam had arranged to take me to Lady Matlock’s home in a phaeton.

Once we entered the road, Mr. Darcy glanced my way, and his jaw clinched. “We did not have an opportunity to speak in private last night. My aunt is an ideal person to coordinate your introduction to London society, but I hope you did not find her to be officious.”

“No, I am grateful for her assistance. The last thing I should want is to be a detriment to your reputation and standing.”

He moved the reins to his right hand, and his left one covered my wrist. His dark eyes held me. “You could never be a detriment to me.”

His assurance, though welcome and appreciated, could not alter the importance of these initial introductions. One influential and vocal detractor could do me a world of harm.

Before we reached the drawing-room, Mr. Miles spied us and came to extend his greetings. He directed a teasing grin my way. “Well, Miss Bennet, London’s shrewdest and most ruthless denizens await you. Are you ready for the perilous feat of winning their collective approval?” His facetious tone negated any possible disquiet on my part.

“You cannot be referring tothisgroup.” Fitzwilliam tipped his head towards Lady Matlock’s other guests, visible through the open doorway. “Charming them will be child’s play for Miss Bennet.”

I arched my eyebrow. “Your vote of confidence is appreciated, even though your characterisation of my skills is exaggerated.” I turned back to Mr. Miles. “In answer to your question, I am prepared. Nevertheless, since you arrived before me, I should be glad to accept any advice or caveats you may offer. Perhaps you have identified a potential hazard or two.”

“Well, the truth is…” Mr. Miles bent his head closer to mine. “They have all been exceedingly kind. You have no reason for concern.”

A soft laugh escaped me. “I am relieved to hear it.”

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