Before Elizabeth could learn any more, Regina Ferrars entered the breakfast parlor.
'Lord, but I’m starving! I never danced so much in my life as I did last night. Is the chocolate still hot?'
She headed straight to the buffet, where she piled a plate high with ham, cheese, eggs, plum cake, and one roll for each variety of jam offered. 'What a splendid party! Didn’t Harry look handsome? Mama says she hopes our children inherit his profile.'
Elizabeth choked on her toast. 'Your children?' she asked when she recovered herself.
Elinor appeared equally surprised. 'I was unaware that you and Harry had an understanding.'
'Oh, we don’t. Not yet, anyway. But Mama thinks he should keep all his lovely money in the family, and says it shouldn’t be hard for a girl with a figure like mine to catch his eye.'
No doubt because there was so much of her figure to behold.
'And last night, I heard my aunt Dashwood tell Mama that she’d rather see Harry wed me than some penniless girl. So it’s only a matter of time.'
Not if Elizabeth had anything to do with it. With his whole family conspiring to oppose a marriage to Kitty, she would offer Harry a bit of reinforcement until they were able to depart for Longbourn.
Regina’s mouth was soon too full of plum cake to provide any additional news. Elizabeth excused herself and headed back to her chamber to see whether Darcy had yet risen. On the way she passed Elinor and Edward’s room. The door stood slightly ajar, and Fanny’s voice carried from within.
'If you would only speak to him. Please, Edward. You’re my brother, and his father is no longer here to guide him.'
'Fanny, I simply cannot comprehend your objection. She comes from a respectable family, and her elder sisters’ marriages offer good connections. With Harry’s income, he doesn’t need a bride with a large dowry'
'Hmph. You would think that a man of Mr. Darcy’s fortune would settle something on his wife’s sisters to improve their marriageability.'
'As you and John took care of his sisters?'
Silence.
Elizabeth reached her chamber, only to find it vacant. Darcy had apparently risen and embarked on some other occupation before breakfast. She returned to the hallway just as Fanny emerged from Edward’s room. Harry’s mother acknowledged her with minimal civility, then turned on her heel and retreated down the stairs. Having no desire to follow her, Elizabeth instead wandered into the long gallery Harry Dashwood stood inside. He had been studying the portrait of his father, but her entrance diverted his attention.
'Forgive me,' she said. 'I did not intend to disturb you.'
'Nonsense, Mrs. Darcy. Your company is always a pleasure.' He gestured toward the painting. 'I was just contemplating what my father would think of my engagement to Miss Bennet.'
'And what did you conclude7'
He shrugged. 'He would have wanted to see me happy, but I suspect he might have shared my mother’s… reservations.' He gazed at her directly. 'It could not have escaped your notice that my mother would prefer I marry a woman of large fortune.'
'I confess it has not.'
'I apologize.'
'Why? You are not responsible for your mother’s opinions.'
'No, but I am now responsible for Miss Bennet’s happiness. I think it best to remove Kitty from my mother’s proximity at present, to spare her any further unpleasantness. I also wish to secure your father’s permission and announce the engagement as soon as possible. To that end, I plan to leave for Longbourn immediately — this very day. Can the three of you be ready by this afternoon? If not, I will go on ahead.'
'We can depart within the hour if necessary. But how will you explain the abrupt departure to your other guests?'
'I will tell them the truth — that i must attend to an important matter requiring immediate action.'
'And what will you tell your mother?'
'Nothing whatever. I am done with her. At least for this visit.' He issued a disgusted sigh. 'She has harped on me about family duty and reputation as long as I can remember, but you have only to look around this room to see people who did far more to compromise the Dashwoods’ standing than what she accuses me of. Sir Stephen might have been a knight, but his youngest son was a pirate. And Sir Francis here — ' He gesticulated forcefully. 'If the Dashwood family honor can survive
Mr. Dashwood’s manservant entered. 'Your trunks are packed and await only your order to load them, sir. Will you also be taking the portrait?'
'The one from my mother?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Absolutely not.'
'Yes, sir. What would you like done with it?'
'My mother can do whatever she likes with it. I don’t need it with me as a reminder of her manip — ' He cut himself short as his gaze fell once more upon the portrait of Sir Francis.
'Come to think on it, pack this one instead.' He laughed bitterly. 'Sir Francis and I can keep our disgraceful selves company.'
'I am convinced that there is a vast deal of inconsistency in almost every human character.'
Mr. Dashwood easily won the approval of both Kitty’s parents. A half hour’s observation of Harry’s earnest devotion to Kitty, paired with the testimonials of his most sensible daughter and son-in-law, proved sufficient recommendation for Mr. Bennet to grant his consent to the marriage without reservation. Mrs. Bennet’s admiration was secured still more quickly, with the mere utterance of the words 'six thousand a year.' The couple fixed upon a date three months hence and returned to London with the Darcys.
While Elizabeth and Georgiana made the rounds of warehouses with Kitty to order the bride’s trousseau, Darcy returned to his own affairs. The soon-to-be-vacant living at Kympton still needed filling, and a rare opportunity had arisen to discuss land enclosure — a practice Darcy contemplated implementing at Pemberley — with the country’s foremost expert. The Earl of Chatfield had invited a small group of friends to meet Arthur Young, former secretary of the Board of Agriculture. Hoping to encourage Mr. Dashwood’s newfound interest in estate management, Darcy had secured an invitation for Harry, as well.
As arranged, Darcy met Mr. Dashwood at the younger man’s townhouse before proceeding to the earl’s. He arrived promptly at the appointed time, Darcy considering tardiness the eighth deadly sin. Harry, however, kept him waiting in the drawing room a full quarter hour. Darcy paced impatiently, thankful that at least upon this visit he hadn’t been invited to attend Harry in his dressing room. Despite his growing kinship with Mr. Dashwood, he preferred to maintain more formality in his relationships. He did have to admit, however, that the previous opportunity to see Mr. Dashwood’s newly discovered looking glass had proven an unexpected pleasure. He wondered if the portrait of Sir Francis had also found its way to Harry’s suite, as he had not seen it more publicly displayed when he’d been ushered to the drawing room.
When Mr. Dashwood at last joined Darcy, he appeared to have rushed his toilette. His cravat slanted asymmetrically, and his hair looked even more unruly than was the current fashion. ‘Twas a far cry from the style- conscious buck who had held court before his looking glass, or even the elegant host who had so recently entertained them at Norland.
'Mr. Darcy, do forgive me.' Harry immediately sent for his hat and greatcoat. 'But one minute more, and we can be off.'
