"Darcy, that creature is divine and I shall heartily agree to host your ball," Mrs. Maria Fitzherbert shared her opinion freely in the newly spruced-up drawing-room of Marlborough House. "But it must be before the 24th. I will not compete with that love of mine, no matter how poorly he's treated me in London."
Mr. Darcy nodded sagely at the woman nearly double his age and once a close friend to his parents. Thomas Fitzherbert owned a townhome a few blocks away from Darcy House in Grosvenor Square, a home that passed to his widow after his untimely death. Lady Anne Darcy had shared a love of the opera with her friend Maria, in that same year that Mrs. Fitzherbert met the Prince Regent.
During their tea a few days prior, Darcy brought not only his cousin Richard but also his sister and her companion. Mrs. Annesley reminded him that his sister needed more experience in the feminine world and a private tea was the perfect training ground. Mrs. Fitzherbert shared a kind letter she had received from Darcy's mother over thirty years ago, delighting Georgiana. After her involvement with the Prince, and Lady Anne retreating to Pemberley to care for her family, the two friends lost touch over the years. But Mrs. Fitzherbert knew when she heard that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had leased Marlborough House for the summer, that the man had to be related to her long-lost friend.
Sprawled out on the divan, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam sulked and complained of indigestion from eating too much. "If you can steal that Cook from these kitchens, your London home could use the improvement. Though I daresay I might suffer this affliction too often."
Darcy ignored his cousin who had allowed the whole business with Shawcroft to sour his mood. It was during the tea that Richard's room had been ransacked. Even though he couldn't find anything missing, he feared what might have been added. Of course, none of the officers under his charge knew what happened, and Richard was loath to inflict draconian disciplinary measures and force Shawcroft's hand.
"Now pay attention, the ball is important. I shall host it at Steine House, as the only thing Marlborough House can boast is an empty first floor for dancing. But we have precious little time to prepare. Are you certain you're able to procure the necessary refreshments in time? When Prinny and I entertained, the courtiers always wanted at least three weeks to prepare!" she exclaimed, allowing the white Pomeranian that attended dinner with her to lick her teacup. The dog had been a gift from Queen Charlotte and Mrs. Fitzherbert was terrified of the dog passing away in its old age without her present.
Darcy flinched when the dog barked in protest at the grand lady taking away the saucer.
"I began the preparations already, Mrs. Fitzherbert. Would it be uncouth to compete with the assembly rooms weekly dancing on Mondays?" he asked, with a hint of a mischievous smile. It had been less than a fortnight since his acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet was renewed, but there was a poetry to him in holding his ball on the same day of the week in which they found each other again. Even he was beginning to ascribe to the incessant signs and coincidences his sister lauded the more and more she learned about their whole courtship.
Mrs. Fitzherbert began to count the days at the same time that Mr. Darcy did. Together, they decided upon the perfect evening of Monday, the 22nd of June.
She frowned. "Two weeks is not enough time for everything I must get done," she said, dramatically, patting her forehead with her handkerchief.
Mr. Darcy tried not to laugh, but the woman's hairstyle and manner of dress reminded him of his Aunt Catherine, as though all wealthy ladies of that generation were taught the same dramatic arts. He coughed to keep himself from offending the lady he most earnestly needed to assist him. The ball would help him prove to Miss Elizabeth Bennet how deeply he felt for her and hopefully, solve his cousin's problem as well.
"My sister and her companion will aid you in every preparation necessary. You will also have my resources at your disposal," he said, gallantly.
Maria Fitzherbert winked at him and set her teacup on the table. "And we understand each other about the other matter?" she asked, with her eyebrow raised.
Mr. Darcy placed his hand over his heart. "You have my word."
"Good, then I will thank you, Gentlemen, for a lovely evening and kindly ask you to walk me home, if it's not too much bother," she said, standing up and handing her dog's leash to the footman she also brought with her, purely to clean up the dog's messes.
Darcy took one look at his cousin in discomfort and agreed to walk Mrs. Fitzherbert home. The evening had been a resounding success and he was only sad that Miss Elizabeth and her chaperone, Mrs. Warrender, could not stay for dessert and conversation in the drawing-room.
Outside, the smallest sliver of moon offered little light, and Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Fitzherbert walked the short path between their homes preceded by two footmen with torches.
"I am grateful, Madam, that you have agreed to aid me in joining Brighton's society. I want Miss Elizabeth to know I am not the man she thinks I am."
Mrs. Fitzherbert sighed. "To be young and in love, though careful, sir. Those flames of passion can drive one mad if you do not keep a reasonable restraint," she cautioned.
He nodded to show he respected her opinion. "I am glad you enjoyed her company," he said.
"Do you know she reminds me of myself? I was educated at a convent in France. And now look where I am," she said, gesturing toward her stately home with her open palm. "Granted, there are those who criticize my involvement with him," she said, meaning Prince George.
With a lamentable sigh Darcy knew too well, Mrs. Fitzherbert paused just before she walked up the steps to her domicile. "I asked her if she disapproved of me. And she told me that it was not her place to judge queens and kings. Unsatisfied, I asked if she believed that was due to her station in life, and do you know what she told me?" she asked.
Darcy chuckled. "I can only imagine what Miss Elizabeth imparted, her wit is one of her traits I most admire," he said.
"Yes, well, she has plenty of that and it will serve her well by your side," Mrs. Fitzherbert said, as though it were a foregone conclusion that Miss Elizabeth would accept Mr. Darcy's proposal. He had not told her that the woman rejected him once before. He did still have some pride. "She is refreshing without being rude. Honesty, without cruelty."
Leaning down to kiss Mrs. Fitzherbert's hand farewell, he attempted to hasten an end to their interlude. He also did not want her to invite him inside and endure that awkward exchange if there was to be one. Taking a step back, Mr. Darcy sent the signal that the evening had concluded.
They shared a nod of courtesy and Mrs. Fitzherbert was about to walk up the steps when she remembered the original bon mot she had wanted to share.
"Oh, Mr. Darcy," she said, as the man stopped only a few paces away from her. "She told me that no, it was not because of her circumstances, but that she did not believe they would listen to her!" Mrs. Fitzherbert began to laugh mightily and Darcy politely laughed, holding his position away from his elder to keep up propriety. "The courage in that one," she said, turning away from Mr. Darcy and talking more to herself than to him, "those London drawing rooms are deuced!"
Smiling ear-to-ear over Mrs. Fitzherbert's impression of Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy didn't bother to wait for the footman with a torch. His eyes had adjusted to the early evening darkness, and the path was far from treacherous. The quiet stillness of the night and the light sea breeze made his solitary walk most pleasant.
"Darcy!"
He had scarcely stepped back inside Marlborough House when his cousin's boisterous shouts from the drawing-room raised his ire. He gave an apologetic look to the butler and then tended his cousin.
"Richard. Get up," he said, curtly. "You can stop pretending to be in pain."
Richard Fitzwilliam perked up from his purported malaise. "How did you know I was faking?"
"Because you always suffer in silence."
"Brave to walk her home, by yourself," Richard said. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Georgiana didn't come into the drawing-room now that Mrs. Fitzherbert was gone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small scrap of paper. He handed it over to his cousin. "I found this today in the pocket of my uniform jacket," he said.
One word was printed in bold letters: LEAVE.
The note was unsigned.
"Hardly a real threat, is it?"
Richard huffed. "You find notes in your pockets and see if it doesn't unnerve you! I am outnumbered. This light-duty nonsense is not for me. The first chance I have, I'm asking for a transfer."
"Is that an option?" Darcy asked. "Or better yet, selling your commission altogether?"
Richard glared at his cousin. "No. And no."
"Then it's good my plan is already set into motion," Darcy said, retreating to the side window to gaze towards the sea.
Richard threw his hands up in exasperation. "Another ball. In league with the Prince's former mistress. You still haven't told me-"
"And I won't tell you, for your own protection."
"But that makes little sense! How do you know my actions won't jeopardize your operation?"
Darcy remained to stare out the window and sighed. He disliked how much he was risking to save his cousin. He whispered the Proverb that inspired his plan. "The robbery of the wicked shall destroy them; because they refuse to do judgment."
"What's that?" his cousin shouted, as he walked closer. "I saw your lips moving in the reflection of the glass."
Darcy scowled. He repeated the phrase, louder, but did not turn around.
"You plan to steal from Shawcroft?"
Darcy shook his head. Exasperated, he finally turned to face Richard and offered him a stony expression. "I cannot give you any details. In a way, yes, but in another way, absolutely not."
"You speak in riddles!"
"I thought you would be pleased that I am taking your advice. The ball is for Miss Elizabeth."
Richard blinked quickly a half-dozen times. "Darcy, you're not telling her that, are you?"
"Romance," he said.
Blowing out his breath, Richard approached his cousin and tried to look past him to see if there was anything of interest outside, but all he could spy was darkness. Whatever had captured his cousin's attention was gone now.
"Romance is listening to her diligently. Complimenting her attire. Performing chivalrous acts. You cannot throw a ball for a woman so wholly unrelated to you!"
Darcy's face cracked with laughter, and Richard groaned.
"You had me," he complained and Mr. Darcy nodded with a prideful smirk.
"Of course, I would never embarrass Miss Elizabeth with such an announcement. But she will know that it was all for her."
"What else have you done?" Richard asked.
"I wrote to Bingley. Told him to disregard my previously stated opinion and asked him to reopen Netherfield Park. We can stay there as long as necessary before heading North to Pemberley."
"I meant about catching Shawcroft!"
Darcy did not laugh or smile. His face remained slackened and in all seriousness, he told his cousin plainly to leave it alone.
"If my plan goes off without a problem, as I expect it to, you will know in six days if the snare is set."
"And if you fail?"
"I can't have you involved. I may need a character witness."
Richard closed his eyes and dragged his hand down his face out of frustration.
"I cannot have you risk your life for mine," Richard said, but Darcy shrugged.
"In this, I am safe," he said, leading his cousin to the door because there was nothing more to say that night, and he wanted to write in his diary everything he could recall about Miss Elizabeth from that evening.
Richard protested, but accepted Darcy's nudge that it was time for him to return to Russell House. "How can you be certain?"
"I have money and powerful connections."