The Heart of Marriage Chapter 9

Lady Matlock raised an eyebrow. “Oh, however did you come to hear that? Though I am not surprised, Lord Strange is far from the first jilted groom to abandon the London marriage market altogether.”

Lady Brahmington placed a finger to her lips, trying to recall. “We were playing cards, and the stakes were high. Helen, my maid, brought me a toddy as I had been fighting a sore throat, but she made it with rum. Just the scent of the liquor put Mrs. Percy into fits, complaining about how she could not stand the smell of rum. Of course, my aunt, Lady Iris, immediately questioned such an opinion and my brother’s new wife complained how it was all the Derbys served at every dinner and gathering during the summer.”

All three ladies nodded and used the time of Lady Brahmington’s story to finish their tea and refreshments. Uninterrupted, Lady Brahmington continued:

“I couldn’t resist learning more, as I’m rarely in London, and so I asked about Lord Strange, since Mrs. Percy did not specifically mention the engagement.”

Lady Matlock laughed and Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley tittered along in solidarity. Elizabeth gripped her cup in her hands and privately battled confusion about who was related to whom, what family histories intertwined with the Darcys’, and how everyone seemed attached by connections both real or imagined

“You may not frequent the parlors of London, Mary-Louise, but you know the games well,” Lady Matlock said, complimenting her successor to the title of Countess and using her Christian name as a sign of affection.

Lady Brahmington sheepishly looked down, and in that instant, Elizabeth Darcy felt sorry for the lady who reminded her a great deal of a mixture between her sisters Mary and Lydia. She spoke plainly, and perhaps uncouthly, much like Lydia, in fact. But the pains of being frequently overlooked as a middle daughter were evident in the natural expression of humility on Lady Brahmington’s face.

“And that is when Mrs. Percy said that Lord Strange left England?” Mrs. Bingley asked, desperate to contribute to the conversation about people she had never met.

Lady Brahmington nodded. “I remember now, the rumor was he was sent to Jamaica. That’s why I remembered it had to do with the rum.”

“Well we are the better for it that you recovered from your sore throat and were able to join us here,” Elizabeth Darcy said as the clock on the fireplace began to chime the hour.

Jane hastily set her tea cup down. “Forgive me, I did not realize the late hour. I must see to the twins,” she said, and Lady Matlock and her sister nodded.

“Would it be possible? Please say no if you’d like, but I’ve never seen twins, before,” Lady Brahmington asked and Jane immediately warmed to the woman from Northumberland. Soon it was agreed that Lady Brahmington was welcome to join Mrs. Bingley in the nursery, though Jane did warn her ladyship that children of that age can be quite messy.

With the proper farewells, Mrs. Bingley and Lady Brahmington left the grand salon and Darcy staff entered to clear away the tea. After the staff left once more, Lady Matlock patted the chair next to her so that Mrs. Darcy rose and sat next to the grand woman.

Without waiting a moment, the woman dove into the scandal that multiple generations of the Fitzwilliam family were working to contain.

“Bless that woman’s penchant to gossip, what a boon! If it’s true that Lord Strange has been sent overseas, that is leverage our husbands can use,” Lady Matlock said.

“Fitzwilliam has been called to London in January. I am going with him,” Elizabeth said, determinedly.

“I suppose I will have to take that woman and my son to Matlock, heaven knows the trouble they will find in London,” the elder woman said, watching the clouds roll in from the west, bringing an early end to the brief hours of sunlight as more rain threatened in the sky.

A silence fell between the two women and Elizabeth’s voice quivered as she found herself confessing her husband’s greatest fears to his aunt. “Do you believe the committee will charge Fitzwilliam?”

Lady Matlock snapped out of her thoughtful repose and looked at the mistress of Pemberley with abject horror displayed across her face. “Their pony is dead. That Wickham,” she said, through clenched teeth. Firmly, she patted Elizabeth’s arm next to her. “No, what they will want is money. It’s always about money. Fools who bought into the scheme cannot survive the shame or spend.”

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “If Lord Strange is overseas, how can the committee properly investigate?”

Lady Matlock drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair and then abruptly stood up. “I assume you do not wish it to be common knowledge yet that you and Darcy are taking flight to London?”

Elizabeth shook her head. The sound of her mother’s complaints echoed in her head, and even Jane might see the travel as foolhardy in her advancing condition. But the last time she separated from her husband, they both suffered most acutely. It would not be repeated.

“And the Derbys confirmed they are arriving next week?” Lady Matlock asked, beginning to walk away as she spoke so that Elizabeth Darcy had no other option but to rise and follow.

“Yes, Aunt Maggie,” she said, remembering the name the woman wanted her to call her in private.

“Good, good,” she said, pointing to the door pull for the lone footman standing sentry at the far end of the room to handle. “Then between the two of us we will needle Lady Derby until she gives up all of her family’s secrets. With any luck, we will have the information our men will need before the inquest.”