Upon arriving with the Bennets, Richard informed Darcy of the letters from Lady Catherine to his parents and the confusion they harbored over Darcy’s choice of bride. Col. Fitzwilliam had sung the praises of Elizabeth and made no secret of the love Darcy felt for his bride-to-be. The Fitzwilliams cared very much for their nephew and they trusted the opinion of their son, so they were willing to forestall jumping to any conclusions. All the same, Lord Matlock was prepared to forcefully remind Darcy of his duties to Pemberley if his choice of wife was as poor as Lady Catherine intimated. The Earl was a realist and the patriarch of a noble family. Love and romance have their place, but not at the expense of tradition, duty, and honor to one’s name, country, and ancestry.
On their fifth evening in Town, Lizzy and her father accompanied Mr. Darcy to the Matlock townhouse for dinner. Strangely, Lizzy was not at all nervous. Perhaps it was her naïveté, but truly it was simply her nature and character to not be intimidated. Darcy observed her sunny face and gay personality as she chatted with him and Mr. Bennet in the carriage and his pride and love swelled. She was amazing. So fearless and brave, so vibrant and luminous. If his uncle and aunt disapproved… well, they would be fools and he knew they were not fools.
Per Darcy’s behest, the dinner party was to be an informal one—just the immediate Fitzwilliam family to meet Lizzy and Mr. Bennet. Aside from the necessity of being introduced to Lord and Lady Matlock, Darcy wished for his betrothed to become reacquainted with his cousin Richard. The Darcy and Fitzwilliam families were generational friends, their affection and accord preceding by decades the marriage of Lady Anne Fitzwilliam to James Darcy.
Richard, three years Darcy’s senior, was his oldest playmate and confidant, the two nigh on inseparable when younger. More so even than with his aunt or uncle, it was desirous that Richard and Lizzy grow comfortable with each other. Darcy was not too concerned, the two having already established a rapport in Kent. In fact, at the time the native charm and ebullience of Col. Fitzwilliam, in sharp contrast to his own reticence, had been mildly irritating. Observing the easy familiarity that arose between the woman he loved and his cousin would have birthed a raging jealousy if he did not know Richard’s strong abhorrence to the very idea of marriage!
Joining them would be the eldest Fitzwilliam brother and heir to the Matlock earldom, Jonathan, and his wife Priscilla. Darcy had never been close to his older cousin, but there was a fondness nonetheless and he was pleased to have Jonathan as part of the party. Darcy’s youngest cousin, Annabella, was not able to attend, her Society duties as Lady Montgomery preferable to meeting her cousin’s country fiancée. Not that she voiced this opinion in such blunt language, but Darcy well knew Annabella’s superior attitude to be everything once accused of him.
Introductions were made in the imposing foyer of the Matlock townhouse near St. James’s Square, the party then gathering in the parlor for a short spell before dinner. Lord Matlock was dazzled immediately by Miss Bennet’s charm and liveliness. Lady Matlock was equally captivated, but her gaze rested most often on the face of her dearly loved nephew, marveling at the animation and peace that infused his countenance even as he maintained his typical reserve. It was no mystery why Darcy had succumbed to her, Miss Bennet being as gregarious as he was taciturn. They say opposites attract, and here was a clear example of the old adage, as well as a visible illustration of how love opens one’s soul.
Mr. Bennet was the archetypical country gentleman. Proper to be sure, but somewhat irreverent, intelligent, and with a piquant wit and wry humor. Lord Matlock, for all his elevated rank, was the master of a country estate and appreciated men such as Mr. Bennet for their unpretentious mannerisms. In no time at all, the two men were engaged in a friendly discourse of modern literature versus the classics.
Dinner was a lively affair with conversation flowing from all sides. Lord Matlock and Mr. Bennet conversed easily on numerous topics, with Lizzy joining in frequently. Col. Fitzwilliam, always full of stories and anecdotes, kept them entertained and even managed to elicit a laugh or two from his sober brother and pompous sister-in-law. Darcy was content to placidly observe his fiancée enchant his relatives, contributing now and then to the general conversation.
Retiring again to the parlor after dinner, the atmosphere relaxed further. Some light entertainment was engaged in, Mrs. Fitzwilliam being quite accomplished on the pianoforte, but primarily it was an amiable setting for deeper communication as they sipped tea and brandy. Lady Matlock spoke adoringly of Derbyshire and Pemberley, reminiscing to Lizzy of her own days as a new bride relocating to an unfamiliar land.
“You have seen Pemberley, I am taken to understand?” Lizzy affirmed Lady Matlock’s inquiry. “It may seem imposing, Miss Bennet, but the Darcys have made it a home. And never fear, Fitzwilliam is the soul of patience and kindness. You will be most happy there, I am sure.”
Lizzy blushed faintly. “Thank you, Your Ladyship. I am anticipation itself. I have no doubts that Mr. Darcy will lead me gently.”
She smiled up at her betrothed, who stood nearby with Richard at his side. He smiled faintly in return, eyes sparkling.
Richard nodded, his eyes mischievous as he gazed to his cousin’s face. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy is patience personified. All can attest to the fact. Even his horses declare it so!” They collectively laughed, Darcy blushing slightly but meeting Richard’s teasing gaze.
“Sadly a lesson I could never impart to you, cousin. Your horses habitually choose to throw you rather than listen to instruction.”
“That happened one time, and I was fifteen and the horse refused to jump that creek!” He turned to Lizzy with a chuckle and sly glance toward Darcy. “He, braggart, was twelve with a horse larger than mine and cleared the creek without hesitation! Very well, I concede. You are the superior horseman. I, on the other hand, excel at dancing and witty conversation.”
“You are now witness, Miss Bennet, to what shall henceforth pervade your existence whenever these two are in the same room together.” Lady Matlock interjected with a laugh. “They delight in baiting the other, have since they were children, and likely will be doing so in their senility.”
“Miss Bennet knows it to be true, having confessed to me the dreadfulness of William’s dancing and conversation in Hertfordshire.”
Lizzy laughed gaily. “Colonel! You tease as well as color the truth. I said that Mr. Darcy refused to dance, not that he danced poorly. He quite proved his skill at the Netherfield Ball, dancing with the grace of a gazelle.”
“Grace of a gazelle? High praise, indeed. Is this true, Fitzwilliam?” Lord Matlock grinned at his nephew’s discomfiture.
Darcy coughed, color high but face alit with humor as he gazed upon his impish fiancée, “Miss Bennet is being generous, as always. I managed to avoid stepping on her feet or making a total fool of myself, but in my particular case it remains fortunate that dancing skills and engaging repartee are not the only inducements to affection.”
They all smiled and chuckled, even Jonathan. “Quite so,” he offered. “I abhor dancing and socializing more so than you, William, and that is saying something, yet my wife tolerates me. One’s beguilements and personality can be well hidden secrets for only select individuals to divine.”
“I concur, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Lizzy nodded. “Rather like a fine bottle of aged red wine. The cork must be removed; the wine poured out and allowed to breathe. One must wait patiently for the aroma to rise in the air to captivate those who wish to partake of its delights. The wine warms in the glass as the flavor softens and mellows, exposing its true essence.” She paused, her gaze locked on Darcy’s startled but tender eyes as he focused on her to the exclusion of all others in the room. “Some people are structured so and are abundantly worth the wait,” she finished in a soft whisper.