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  The piece Georgiana was playing concluded, and Elizabeth clapped along with the rest of the party. Having played several numbers, Georgiana rose and addressed Elizabeth:

  “Will you not play for a time, Miss Bennet?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I would be delighted. But I should have played before you did, so that my efforts would not seem poor by comparison. Then again, I doubt it would have mattered.”

  “Oh, Elizabeth,” cried Georgiana. “You play very well, as you know.”

  “I will be happy to take my cousin’s place and turn the pages for you, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy.

  Though of two minds about Mr. Darcy’s offer, Elizabeth accepted. Soon she was sitting at the instrument, playing Mozart. She quickly understood, however, that allowing Mr. Darcy to sit beside her was a mistake, for the man’s presence was like a slowly burning fire situated to her side. Or that is what it felt like, for the heat from his body scorched her as she played. Never had she been so aware of another’s presence nor felt so alive in turn. And she was compelled to confess his ardent attentions had, indeed, affected her.

  As she watched Darcy and Elizabeth’s performance, Anne almost thrummed with excitement. Darcy’s interest she had known from the beginning of their time together in London, but Elizabeth’s response had been less certain. Her behavior the day before was confirmed in what Anne was seeing before her now, as her friend almost seemed afraid to even brush sleeves with Darcy. Anne was delighted.

  When Elizabeth finished playing—Anne noticed that she stopped, having played only two songs—the pair rejoined the rest of the company, sitting nearby. While both were engaged in speaking with the entire group, they seemed to continue their awareness of each other, and before long they had begun to debate some obscure point of literature, leaving the remaining three to speak together. Georgiana, as was her wont, took the opportunity to return to the pianoforte. She played softly and Anne recognized it as a piece she had been practicing lately.

  “You appear akin to the cat in the cream, Cousin,” said Fitzwilliam after they had been in this attitude for some moments.

  “I am simply happy to be in the company of those I love,” was Anne’s smooth reply.

  “Oh, I believe it is something more than that.” Fitzwilliam darted a significant glance at Darcy and Elizabeth before he turned back to Anne. “I simply do not know why you favor certain . . . developments to such a degree.”

  Anne returned his gaze, amused that he seemed to be seeing the same thing she had. But she was not about to make it any easier for him to tease, not that he required it.

  “Perhaps you should inform me of what you think.”

  With a shrug, Fitzwilliam looked back at the two who were so engrossed that they did not even notice his scrutiny. “It seems to me there are two possibilities: either you wish for a match between Miss Bennet and Darcy because you have a high regard for them and wish them to be happy, or you hope they will make a match so your mother will quit pestering you about marrying Darcy.”

  “There is a third option,” said Anne, the offhand tone of her voice prompting a raised brow from her cousin. “I may wish to save Darcy from the inevitability of Miss Bingley attempting to compromise him.”

  Fitzwilliam suppressed the hearty guffaw Anne was certain was about to burst out, and though his reaction did draw Darcy’s attention for a moment, it was insufficient to divert him from Elizabeth for long.

  “I suppose that is a possibility, though I do not consider it likely,” replied Fitzwilliam. “Darcy has been fending Miss Bingley away for some years now, and I believe he would agree that she is far from the worst predatory female he has met in society.” Fitzwilliam settled his gaze on her. “Now, my dear Annie, why do you not tell me your purpose in this.”

  “Do you disapprove?”

  Fitzwilliam snorted. “Of course not! He is obviously enamored of her, and I wish for nothing more than my cousin to be happy. It was only after she came to London that Darcy’s previous behavior became clear. I had realized that Darcy was altered from last summer, but I did not know why. Now I suspect he was pining after her, though he would not acknowledge to himself that such was the case.”

  “Oh?” asked Anne, delighted at her cousin’s assertions. “How was he different?”

  “He was quieter, more thoughtful, and he was often distracted, though only one who truly knows him would notice the difference. And you are changing the subject, Anne.”

  “Perhaps it is a mix of both,” relented Anne. “I do love Elizabeth like a sister, and I want her to be happy. If I did not think that happiness could be achieved with Darcy, I would be a most ardent opponent of the match. But I will own that I have considered the . . . relative benefits of Darcy marrying another. Again, if he can make her happy, it would benefit us all.”

  “She does appear to be softening to him, does she not?” Fitzwilliam paused and chuckled. “I thought her manner was a little cold when we came out of Kent, but it is like someone has started a fire in a hearth—she has warmed considerably.”

  “You know she had carnations in her room today.”

  Her cousin looked at her blankly. “Is that supposed to signify something?”

  Anne shook her head and looked skyward. “Carnations are the flower that signify attraction and a future romantic attachment.”

  “Are you suggesting Darcy gave them to her?”

  “They were out in the gardens for more than an hour yesterday. And when they entered the house, she was wearing one in her hair.”

  “Well, well,” said Fitzwilliam, his smug gaze fixed on Darcy. “I see I must congratulate my cousin for his good taste. She is quite enchanting—I am certain he will be happy with her.”

  “No, you will not,” said Anne, the steel in her voice drawing his eyes back to her. “I do not wish to interfere. They are getting along splendidly themselves without our assistance.”

  A chuckle and a shake of Fitzwilliam’s head was followed by his spoken, “Peace, Anne. I enjoy teasing Darcy as much as anyone, but I will not complicate his courtship. I only hope your mother does not get wind of this little romance. She will be furious if she does.”

  “I will deal with my mother, if necessary,” replied Anne.

  Fitzwilliam turned and regarded Anne with a lazy eye. “It seems your association with Miss Bennet has turned you into a bit of a lioness defending her cubs.”

  “And I would ask you not to forget it, Cousin,” replied Anne.

  “How could I?” Fitzwilliam paused and noted: “You know, all these years your mother has spoken of a match between you and Darcy, and she would never hear of anything else. I know why she wished to claim him—he is the son of her dear sister and he has Pemberley to recommend him—but I have always wondered why no one thought to attempt to push you and me together.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Darcy has an estate—he possesses several, in fact. But I am the penniless soldier in the family, the one who requires a fortune to allow me to keep my style of life. Since Rosings itself is your dowry, we would seem to be well matched.”

  Anne was uncertain if her cousin was jesting, but she was not about to allow him to embrace such thoughts.

  “I am sorry to disappoint you, Cousin, but I do not think we are suited. I love you as a cousin, but I think I am quite content to allow our relationship to stay as it is.”

  “Ah, cut to the quick!” cried Fitzwilliam, though she noted his disappointment was so acute that he refrained from drawing Darcy’s attention by speaking quietly. “To be found wanting in such a fashion—how will I ever recover?”

  “Are you incapable of being serious?” asked Anne, shaking her head.

  Fitzwilliam grinned. “Oh, I am quite capable of it. I simply do not often choose it. Though the thought has come to me in the past, I have always dismissed it, for I never thought you possessed any more interest in me than I did in you. You are quite safe from me, Cousin. I sha
ll continue to search for that elusive heiress who can give me everything I have ever wanted in life.”

  “By that you mean a large fortune.”

  A wink was his reply. “Of course. What else is there?”

  “What else, indeed.”

  They fell silent, but Anne’s mind was working, considering the conversation she had just had with her cousin. Since coming out of Kent and gaining her independence from her mother, Anne had not thought of her own future. Her attention was fixed on her friend and her family, watching as Elizabeth and Darcy became closer, and creating a situation whereby Jane could once again be in the company of Mr. Bingley, allowing them to follow their own feelings toward whatever end they desired.

  But what of Anne herself? She had been told for so long by her mother that she was destined for Darcy and had hardly been allowed to think of anything else. She had never desired such a union, but she had not considered what it was that she wished for.

  As she thought and watched Darcy and Elizabeth while they danced around one another in the complex footsteps of courtship, Anne realized that she wanted what it increasingly appeared they had. She wished for a man to look at her as Darcy looked on her dearest friend, wished to esteem a man more than all others. What good was an estate such as the one she would inherit without someone she loved to share it with? Her mother, she thought, had esteemed Sir Lewis, though Anne had been too young to know when he had passed, but she did not think that depth of emotion had been present between them.

  It would be in the next generation, Anne decided. She would find someone who adored her and cherished her. She would follow Elizabeth’s example.

  Chapter XXIV

  As the days progressed, the Darcy party began to accept invitations to society events and Elizabeth obtained her first taste of the entertainments of the first circles. At first it was nothing more than a dinner invitation from a friend of Mr. Darcy’s, or a card party at another friend’s house. The society was not that much different from what Elizabeth had known in Hertfordshire, but when Elizabeth made this observation to Mr. Darcy, she discovered the reason.

  “That is because I do not accept invitations from those of questionable character or from whom I am not intimately acquainted.” Mr. Darcy smiled at her. “There are many events which I do not deem . . . appropriate, and the few invitations we have accepted are only a small number of those I have received.”

  “There are times when my brother will receive dozens of invitations in a few days,” said Georgiana. The girl shuddered, prompting an indulgent smile from Mr. Darcy. “I am glad I am not yet out, for I would not know what to do with so many at once.”

  “And you never will,” replied Mr. Darcy. “I will never accept an invitation which does not meet your approval. We need not perform before society.”

  Georgiana beamed and Mr. Darcy turned back to Elizabeth, who could not help but ask: “Are there truly so many objectionable events, sir?”

  “Perhaps not,” said Mr. Darcy. “There is a certain set of society which indulges in activities I would consider depraved, but the majority are similar to what you have experienced at your home, though much wealthier, connected, and with no lack of pride and arrogance. But as you know, I am much more comfortable in the company of those with whom I am acquainted. While I do attend some of the wider events, I limit the number, as I truly do not enjoy an excess of society. But I am obliged to give some thought to it because of the Darcys’ position in society.”

  Elizabeth regarded him with some curiosity. “Due to your connection to your uncle?”

  A faint smile was followed by: “Yes, the Fitzwilliams are our most recent noble connection, but the history of my family is littered with nobility. My ancestors often married noble brides, as prominent as dukes’ daughters, and the daughters of the Darcy family have often married into the nobility themselves.”

  “I had no idea you were so well connected, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth, feeling a little ill at the thought of such high connections. And this man was directing his attentions on her?

  “It is nothing, Miss Bennet,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Though we are connected with the nobility, in truth the Darcys have always been gentlemen farmers and content to remain such. If an offer to be raised to the nobility were to be made to me, I would refuse it, for I have no desire to be placed higher in society.”

  “I can imagine why,” replied Elizabeth.

  “When shall we attend a ball?” asked Anne.

  “Next week,” replied Mr. Darcy. “It is being given by one of my friends from school. He has recently married, and his wife is planning her first ball with her mother-in-law’s assistance. As we were close at Cambridge, I am obliged to attend.”

  And attend they did. It was a far finer affair than that to which Elizabeth had been accustomed in Meryton, including the ball at Netherfield, though it was similar. There were also many more people attending. Although Elizabeth was not acquainted with anyone, there were introductions aplenty, and Elizabeth never wanted for a partner. For that matter, neither did Anne.

  “How are you feeling, Anne?” asked Elizabeth later in the evening when they retired to the side of the room for some restorative punch. Anne had rarely sat down all night, and knowing her friend’s still developing stamina, Elizabeth had worried for her.

  “I am quite enjoying myself,” she responded, favoring Elizabeth with a warm smile, quieting Elizabeth’s concerns. “I believe I have you to thank, Elizabeth, for not making a fool of myself. Your lessons have been beneficial, indeed!”

  “I am happy to hear it,” replied Elizabeth. “Is it everything you thought it might be?”

  “That and more, though I will own I do not care for some of the men I have met.” Anne shook her head. “I can see that it will be difficult to sort those worthy from those who are not. I smelled the distinct scent of desperation and avarice from several of the young men with whom I danced.”

  “That is because there are many rakes in society.” The two ladies turned to Darcy, who had joined them a moment before. “Your last partner, Lord Trenton, you should take care to avoid. Not only is he a womanizer, but his estate has been failing for some years due to his habits. He would think nothing of compromising you for Rosings, Anne.”

  Anne favored her cousin with a smile. “Thank you, Darcy. I will be guided by you, for I have no desire to be entrapped into marriage.”

  Their entrance in society also brought some attention, though not all of it was unwelcome. Lord Trenton, for example, came to Darcy house several times, and it was fortunate that on all but one occasion, they were not present to receive him. The one time he was admitted, his behavior toward Anne was so blatant and familiar that Darcy pulled him from the room and warned him that Anne would not be receiving him again. Though Elizabeth wondered at a member of the nobility being warned away by naught but a gentleman, the earl did not show himself at Darcy house again.

  Anne and Elizabeth were also visited by several other gentlemen and no few ladies. Most of these Elizabeth found pleasant, though there were a few who seemed determined to put her in her place, Elizabeth parried their barbs and laughed at their pride. Soon, only those with whom they were friendly visited them and were visited in their turn.

  “It seems you were correct about Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, one day more than a week after Miss Bingley had first come to Darcy house. “We have attended several events, and yet he has not appeared.”

  “Did you doubt me?” asked Anne.

  “There is no need to be smug!” rejoined Elizabeth with a laugh. “Anyone could have predicted it!”

  “But I did,” replied Anne. She lifted her nose into the air, her pose a conceited imitation of Miss Bingley. Of course, the friends were unable to stifle their laughter, and they soon allowed it free rein.

  “I will own that I am surprised,” said Anne a moment later. “I knew she would do everything in her power to avoid us, but she has shown an uncanny ability t
o predict the events we attend and direct her brother toward others. Do you suppose she has a spy in this house?”

  “Perhaps they do not go out. Or perhaps she simply understands Mr. Darcy’s preferences from long association and directs her brother elsewhere.”

  Anne pouted. “I did prefer the notion of a spy. It would suit the woman’s character quite well!”

  “I dare say it would at that.”

  Though Anne enjoyed society well enough, she found herself agreeing with her cousin’s assessment—too much was not desirable, and once her cousin showed her the dizzying array of invitations he had received, Anne decided that she could dispense with most of them quite cheerfully. Even the three times they had been out that week were plenty for her tastes, and she found herself longing once again for more intimate gatherings with those she most highly regarded.

  It was fortunate, then, for her peace of mind that the return engagement to dine at Gracechurch Street was approaching, for Anne was eager to once again be in Jane’s company, who had risen high in her esteem. When the evening arrived, they attended the Gardiners at their home, and every expectation was met in the meal and in the company. Anne was forced to own that her mother would not appreciate learning of her daughter dining in such circumstances, but she also thought that should her mother ever be induced to relax her rigid notions of class, she might enjoy the Gardiners’ company, as they were estimable people.

  One goal Anne had for the evening was to speak to Jane again to delicately probe her feelings and learn if she could prompt her to any reaction concerning Mr. Bingley. Anne’s chance came after dinner when Elizabeth became engaged in conversation with her aunt and Georgiana, while the gentlemen were still out of the room indulging in their port.