Page 49 of Pemberley's Imposter
“No,” Mrs Ferrars offered, “pugs can be quite unruly. Its fur is dull and tattered. Try giving it raw eggs. I have heard they might bring back its brilliancy.”
“Thank you, Mrs Ferrars, I shall attend to it as soon as it is convenient.” Mrs Elliot smirked before remembering herself. “Where are my manners? I forgot you have not been introduced to the elusive Mrs Darcy.”
Polite pleasantries were exchanged, and Elizabeth was apprised and found wanting in all ways that mattered: her apparel, her posture, her air, and her manner of speaking.
Mr Darcy noticed the disdainful looks and chided himself for not attending to his wife’s wardrobe. Her three-year-old gowns might suffice at Pemberley, when they were not entertaining, but the demands in town were vastly different. He made a mental note to make an appointment with a seamstress, preferably on Bond Street, but time was of the essence.
He was occupied with this conundrum when the door to the parlour opened again to admit little feet and a tired nanny.
Elysande darted past her mother, hands stretching towards the imposing figure behind her. Darcy glanced towards Elizabeth as he lifted his daughter into his arms. Watching them, his wife smiled with more charity than he would have given their daughter’s demonstration of preference.
He was awarded a sloppy kiss to his cheek, and chubby arms encircled his neck for a precious flash before the girl began to squirm in his arms. He reluctantly put her down on her feet, and she immediately ran to Charlie, giving him the same treatment she had given her father.
Charlie visibly shuddered at the impact of her lips.
“I shall marry Charlie,” Ellie pronounced proudly while patting the smaller boy on the head.
“No!” the boy cried and ran hastily out of the door. Ellie hurried after him; the nanny sighed and turned to follow.
“I shall handle it,” Elizabeth interjected. Darcy made to accompany her, but Elizabeth stopped him with a light touch to his arm.
“Thank you, Mrs Darcy. They have been at it since Miss Darcy arrived,” the nanny complained.
Elizabeth smiled benevolently and left, with Jane and the nanny close behind.
Bingley’s eyes widened when he noticed he had been abandoned with just the tittering females and Darcy. Fortunately, his dislike of the ladies overruled his pique with his friend.
An excuse was swiftly produced to retreat to the study with Darcy, who was his excuse in the form of some papers Bingley had forgotten to show him. Darcy could only be thankful he had not been abandoned, but he did not remove himself quickly enough to avoid overhearing the snide remarks made about his wife.
He used the respite to borrow a messenger from Bingley to make a run to Bond Street. No lady of his house should elicitderogatory remarks due to her apparel, but there were other ways to work theton.
Afterwards, he escorted Elizabeth around town to various shops and made sure to make small clandestine visits to various specialists—jewellers, mainly—buying trinkets and larger pieces. The rumours about the besotted and relieved Mr Darcy needed no more encouragement. The gossips believed Mrs Darcy had been gravely ill; it had been impossible for Mr Darcy to even speak about it, but she had miraculously recovered from death’s door and was currently being showered with gifts by her elated husband.
Soon they were spotted on numerous occasions about town: the theatre, Vauxhall Gardens, the Menagerie, and museums.
#
Elizabeth entered Darcy’s study. He did not look up; his eyes were fixed on a letter with an impressive letterhead.
“Am I disturbing you?” Elizabeth asked, half turning to leave.
Darcy looked up with an unreadable expression on his face.
“No, please, come in. I suppose I had better tell you.”
“Have you received unpleasant news?” Elizabeth asked and sat primly on the chair in front of his desk.
“I do not know what to make of it. I have never sought such a distinction, but I cannot refuse it either. No, that would definitely not do…”
Elizabeth was more bewildered than enlightened by the explanation.
“Pray, what distinction?”
“I have been knighted by the Prince Regent for my services in apprehending Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“The Prince Regent is knighting you because you committed to Bedlam the man who accosted your wife?”
“Not exactly. I discovered, during my interrogation of him, that he had killed his colonel during the Peninsula War. It eventually led to the elevation to colonel for himself. The death had initially made their superiors suspicious, but with no evidence or confession, they were forced to let the matter rest. I had to notify his general when the sordid tale was revealed to me. The Prince Regent has somehow become aware of the fact and has decided to award me with a knighthood of The Royal Guelphic Order. Knight Grand Cross is the highest rank of the order, with the mottoNec Aspera Terrent, which means ‘not afraid of difficulties’. He awarded it to me for turning in my own relative. He was not informed about the good reason I had to act in such a manner, of course. My chivalry would not be perceived as quite as self-sacrificing had that been commonly known.
