Page 70 of Her Whole Heart
The dining room at Matlock House was elegantly appointed, the table set with gold-rimmed china and gleaming silverware. Everyone was arranged as properly as possible with the preponderance of men, the visiting countess with her host and the earl with his hostess, Lady Penelope across from her father and next to Lady Henrietta, Darcy and his Fitzwilliam cousins in between. Darcy felt a bit de trop, but Fitz had wanted him here. His cousin felt that Lady Penelope would make a scene, and Lord Matlock must have felt the same, for he had instructed Lady Henrietta to keep the guest list to just the Blackwells.
As the soup was served, Lady Blackwell leaned backward, her posture and oily tone exuding self-satisfied calculation.
“I must say, Lord Matlock, it is good to return to town.”
“We are pleased to have you here among us,” Darcy’s uncle said genially.
“Yes, the girls have always been such good friends,” she said, almost humming.
“Their friendship has been one of long standing,” he agreed, lifting his wineglass to his mouth and taking a sip.
“As has our friendship, eh, Matlock?” called the earl of Blackwell from his position at the other end of the table to the right of Lady Henrietta. It was not a large table, in deference to the small numbers, and so he could not be said to be shouting. “Do you remember when we convinced all the first-year boys that the hall in the west wing was haunted by the ghost of Old Hammond?” He paused, then added, “Old Hammond was a former headmaster.”
Lady Blackwell’s eyes creased at the corners.
“Poor little Barty Roberts refused to go near that part of the building for weeks. We had to bribe him to keep him from telling the masters why he was entering his classroom through the window.” Darcy’s uncle picked up his spoon and dipped it into his bowl.
“What about when we replaced all the Latin primers with Greek just before exams?”
This elicited a smile and a chuckle from Lord Matlock. “Everyone was confused. Even the professor could not determine what had happened.” He addressed the table. “We managed to switch them back just in time to avoid being caught.”
“Ah, but it was a very near thing.”
The stories came one after another, and Darcy listened smugly, knowing that whatever the countess wished to say, she was being forced into patience. And Lady Blackwell was not a patient woman.
They were past the soup and into the main part of their meal before her husband stopped speaking to eat for more than a few moments, and the lady began again.
“I heard something from my daughter that has surprised me, Lord Matlock,” she said. “Quite thoroughly surprised me, I must say.”
“It is a difficult situation to find oneself in,” Lord Matlock replied gravely, “when a daughter can so severely surprise her parent.”
Lady Henrietta said nothing, but Darcy thought she shrank a little in her chair.
After a brief hesitation, Lady Blackwell started again. “You pretend not to understand me,” she said.
“We understand,” Lord Blackwell said with a sigh. “We only wish you would stop. But as there seems to be no way to accomplish that without causing you an injury, perhaps you had best continue so we may be done.”
“You are unkind, sir,” the countess said, clearly not in the least affected by her husband’s disapproval. “I simply wished to say that it is peculiar that Miss Elizabeth Bennet has become such a fixture in Lord Matlock’s social circle. I do wonder at it, and I am not the only one.”
Darcy stiffened.
Lord Matlock sighed, placed his silverware down with exaggerated care, and turned to offer Lady Blackwell his full attention.
Lady Blackwell smiled thinly, her voice dripping with a false sweetness. “I am aware she has become something of a sensation. But as my daughter has suggested, one must wonder whether her heroics might not be a bit too . . . neatly timed.”
A soft groan floated over the air from Lady Henrietta’s end of the table.
“Perhaps you do wonder,” Lord Matlock said. “But I do not.” He picked up his fork and returned to his food.
Lady Blackwell’s mouth fell open, and Darcy knew this could not be all.
“My mother has made an excellent point,” Lady Penelope said firmly. She glanced around the table. “Can you not say that she always happens to be in the right place at the right time to play the saviour?”
“Twice over the course of four years is far from always,” Fitz said. “And as Darcy and I witnessed the most recent incident ourselves, I can assure you that there was nothing contrived about it.”
Darcy did not speak until he was certain he could do so without causing his uncle embarrassment, but he could not remain silent for long. “I assure you, Lady Penelope, there is nothing calculated about MissElizabeth’s character. I cannot always say as much for other ladies of the ton.”
“We are all aware of your . . . position on Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy,” Lady Blackwell replied, feigning a kindly concern. “It is impossible to move in town at all without hearing the story. Forgive me, but you may not be the best judge of this particular situation.”
