Chapter 133

When Elizabeth entered the music room, she realised that despite its size it was only a tiny part of a very large house, a palace in fact. But nonetheless it was very impressive, large, rather bare of furniture but beautifully decorated with paintings, fabrics and ornaments of an incredible richness and in excellent taste. Especially the paintings had to be worth a small fortune, though a carpet that size couldn't be at all cheap either. The only house she could compare it to was that of Mrs Drummond, though that lady's style was much more lavish. Of course it seemed as if this was a room dedicated to music, and for some reason those always were a little bare of furniture, Eric's room at the Zumpe's house had been no different, and even with Georgiana and himself spending most of their time in his apartment he had stripped the room containing the large Zumpe piano of anything he didn't need. And since Eric didn't need much at all, it was very bare indeed: any time they wanted to hear him play the additions to his second concerto on his Zumpe, they had to fetch extra chairs from the bedroom, if they needed more than three. Elizabeth wondered whether they'd have the curtains put back up next winter, without them it would be very cold.

Of course they might move the Zumpe downstairs next winter, they'd have the whole house to themselves with Fitzwilliam and herself at Pemberley most of the season. Or maybe they'd all be on the continent, though apparently it was even colder there in winter, despite being a lot further to the south. It had to do with mountains and the distance to the sea, Eric had explained but Elizabeth could not remember exactly. Never mind, she'd look it up in the library if they really were to go to Vienna.

For now she took the time to admire the décor of the huge room, as long as there were just the servants present to set up the piano. The panelling on the walls was cream coloured with gold accents, the ceiling the same but with a magnificent painting of Greek gods and mortals, all associated with music in some way. That was Orpheus with his lyre, really the only one she knew by name, well, except for the goat-like god Pan with his peculiar flute, but he was rather embarrassing to look at for a lady since he was not wearing any clothes, merely a little pelt on his legs and part of his buttocks, not even covering all of those. His male member was painted entirely life-like and in a state of arousal, besides being, one might say, god-like in its proportions. Which meant to say, huge.

Of course someone chose that moment to enter the room, and Elizabeth hoped her blush would be interpreted as resulting from looking up for quite a long time.

'Mrs Darcy, I presume?' a velvet female voice addressed her, 'I'm sorry for my husband's taste in décor, he just will not bow to convention in these more private rooms. Says he has to please the masses in his state rooms but nowhere else. I'd blame his decorator, but I know that poor man tried to dissuade him from having a low ceiling like this decorated with a realistic painting at all. Apparently it's not fashionable, but His Highness insisted.'

Well, so much for Elizabeth's fascination with the anatomically interesting painting going unnoticed. At least Mrs Drummond might congratulate herself that her taste in decorating was shared by her future monarch. Actually, her ancestor's taste in décor. And that painting had been religious in its subjects. Suddenly, Elizabeth stopped caring so much about propriety, she liked the painting, it was daring and very beautifully done. She framed her reply quickly, and rather impetuously.

'Please don't be sorry on my account, I must admit I rather like it, I've always been fond of Greek myths though some people find them irreligious. And of course you are right, I'm Mrs Darcy, and those two fascinated by your beautiful instruments are my brother and sister, Mr and Mrs Fielding.'

'The newly-weds,' the lady replied, 'I'll introduce myself to them later. They look like they will be busy for at least half an hour, would you care to join me in the garden? If you like Greek mythology you'll see plenty to please your eye. I'm Mrs Fitzherbert, by the way.'

Elizabeth curtseyed respectfully, she had only a faint idea who the Fitzherberts were, but if she claimed to be the Prince's wife she must be of higher rank than Elizabeth. Still she could not help being her usual outspoken self, though she would not mention the 'my husband the Prince' part in front of his lady.

'I'd love to see the garden, Mrs Fitzherbert, I have an almost heathenish love for nature and especially trees, if left to my own devices I can ramble through fields and woods for hours all by myself, very improper for my current status as a landowner's wife.'

The lady gave as good as she got.

'Though you must be very glad to have that status, I suppose, for according to rumour your husband's northern estate has some of the most beautiful woods in the country.'

'So they are, so they are. We've sorely missed them these last few months, we're going north come Monday and frankly, I cannot wait.'

Elizabeth now addressed Georgiana and Eric to let them know they would be alone with the servants for half an hour, and Eric managed to spend a few seconds on her to reply. Then she let Mrs Fitzherbert lead her past a liveried servant, through the double doors they used as entrance, straight back into the garden.

'So soon? I'm sorry to hear that, I hoped we could get acquainted. From the descriptions in the newspapers and some personal accounts from friends who've met you, I thought I might like you a lot. And I think my hunch was correct. I asked to have you included in the invitation so I could meet you. I like music, but George takes it ever so seriously, pondering every piece he hears for days, wanting to hear it again and again. It gets boring sometimes, and I thought I'd like to have someone to talk to.'

All right, this was the time when Elizabeth tried to remember what she knew of Mrs Fitzherbert, who was known to have been the Prince's mistress for years, when they were both in their twenties. Then they'd had a falling out, of course they did, who'd want the man of her choice to be married to another, and if rumour was correct, just to have his substantial debts covered by the British people? Then several mistresses later, for of course the Prince had not settled with his wife, Mrs Fitzherbert was back together with him. To Elizabeth it sounded more like a tragedy than Mrs Fitzherbert's being mercenary. No self-respecting woman would choose to be treated that way, she must truly love her Prince.

'I think you may like Mr Fielding's music, it's much more accessible than the usual modern compositions. It goes straight to the heart.'

'I've read so much about his work, I can't wait to hear it myself. I was thrilled to hear how your husband let his sister marry Mr Fielding, despite the latter's low birth. I suppose you had something to do with that?'

Elizabeth's reply was a little too frank, but that might have to do with the beauty of the garden all around her. It was supposed to be landscaped but compared to Pemberley of course it wasn't exactly. She preferred to see nature unadorned but there was not a living thing in this garden that hadn't been tampered with by human hands: the tall grasses were the kind with the prettiest plumes, the solitary trees had been pruned to absolute symmetry, the clumps of brush were arranged from lowest to highest and according to colour. The lawn was free of moss and trimmed to the exact same height everywhere. But there was an attraction in the perfection as well, and it was in the middle of such a large city, she could not but love to see the grass turning a vivid green once more, the rose bushes rambling across the romantic seats putting out leaves, the solitary trees stretching their perfectly trimmed shapes against the background of, a kind of wilderness? Was that truly a patch of wild wood straight ahead? Distracted, she blurted out, 'I merely pointed out to him that he was ruling his sister's life and thinking nothing of it. According to the law it was his right, but he didn't even notice he was doing it. He did his very best not to patronize me, but he did it to his sister as a matter of habit. When he saw the truth in what I told him he gave her the right of choice and she chose what made her happy. Nothing more.'

'Nothing more than her own choice, Mrs Darcy? Is there anything more important? I twice acted as society expected of me but it never brought me happiness, not like Mrs Fielding's or yours. These days, I don't let a man tell me what to do, and I bear with the censure. But it took me some time to find that out, you and Mrs Fielding seem to have made a much happier choice.'

'A year ago I'd have agreed with you, Mrs Fitzherbert. Now I think I've mostly been very lucky.'

And Elizabeth truly believed that. Visiting Charlotte had proved again how lucky she had been to catch the eye of a man who respected her mind as much as he wanted her physically. Maybe even more, he could have had almost any woman he chose but he fell for the one who challenged him. Meeting Mrs Fitzherbert did cause Elizabeth to suspect the Prince must be much the same, though of course he could not choose whom to marry, especially not a Roman Catholic woman who had been twice-widowed before even meeting him.

'I expected you to be much older, Mrs Darcy, from your descriptions I thought you were close to thirty, but I can see you are likely not much older than twenty. I will admit I was a bit afraid you'd catch George's eye, he adores intelligent women, and you are beautiful as well as smart. But I guess we're both safe, he has never fancied a girl half his age before, though I'm certain you could captivate his attention if it pleased you.'

Was there a certain challenge in this last statement? Elizabeth preferred to think there wasn't. She wanted to like Mrs Fitzherbert, and she knew the woman had to accept a lot of competition for the dubitable honour of being the Prince's mistress. Elizabeth preferred to be Mr Darcy's lawfully wedded wife, and was no contender for the Prince of Wales' attentions.

'You can be sure of my not trying, Mrs Fitzherbert. I'm perfectly happy with my husband, and though I admit I'm curious to meet the Prince of Wales, I'd just as soon avoid being noticed by him. Can we take a short stroll through that little wilderness out there? I love nature at its wildest, and I suppose this is as wild as it gets in London.'

'It's my favourite, too, Mrs Darcy. I so wish you were staying in town a little longer, despite your tender age I suppose we could be good friends. But maybe we'll meet again next season.'

'I can hardly imagine not spending part of next winter in town, Mrs Fitzherbert, and though I suppose we move in quite different circles, there is always an opportunity to meet.'

That was sufficiently vague not to be a promise, if Georgiana and Eric were indeed to go to the continent, Elizabeth did not expect Fitzwilliam and herself to want to move to London, not even for a few weeks. She might even be with child by that time and showing it, in which case she didn't want any reporters to see her. If they were still interested in the Darcy family next season, which she hoped would not be the case.

The patch of wilderness was not as unspoiled as Elizabeth expected, even here human hands had interfered with nature to try to improve it. The trees were as perfectly trimmed as all others, there was not a stick of dead wood in sight and the only undergrowth were carefully planted early blooming plants, bluebells and expensive tulips, the path was made of symmetrically laid flagstones and kept free of moss and even the slightest blade of grass or any other weed. There were seats along the winding path and statues of beautiful women in various states of undress, white-faced marble ladies and luscious bronzes polished to a high sheen. Beautiful and valuable, but no comparison to Pemberley's natural woods, not for Elizabeth anyway.

By now they were approaching the end of the wooded area, and Elizabeth wondered whether Georgiana and Eric had finished their preparations. Hopefully the Prince would not keep them for too long after their concert, there would be a middle-class hall waiting for Eric at nine, and though he was not a gourmand like Mr Hurst, who lived for his dinner, Eric did like his sustenance, he needed to eat before tackling a large audience.

'This is a lovely garden, Mrs Fitzherbert, and I'm glad you showed it to me. When all is said and done I'm still a country girl, I will not miss town, especially not the reporters keeping an eye on everything we do, and having an opinion on it.'

'I wholeheartedly agree on the reporters, you can imagine that they have made my life an absolute hell for years with their impertinent questions and incessant curiosity. I rarely go out anymore, and we have to carefully check any staff we hire for they keep trying to plant their own people in our household. George was getting positively paranoid about being spied upon by reporters hiding out among the staff, but we've managed to get that under control. Now we're merely glad we have everything we need right here, the house is nearly finished, and George employs someone to find us some entertainment every night. Or afternoon. I think it's commendable of your brother-in-law to consider his audience and I told George so.'

Elizabeth had no idea what she meant, something must have happened while she was away, and seeing her expression her hostess explained.

'George sent a page to invite Mr and Mrs Fielding for tonight, but they begged to be excused because Mr Fielding had a prior engagement. According to the page, a concert in a middle-class neighbourhood. He was rather outraged, the page, as a new boy and of a very good family I suppose he is not used to being thwarted. But George didn't make much of it, he merely rescheduled to this afternoon. Still, if he likes Mr Fielding's music he will have him over again and again, Mrs Darcy, and he does expect to be indulged.'

That might become a problem since they were planning to leave town the day after tomorrow, but there was no use in making problems where there were none as yet.

'I was off to Kent to see a friend, fortunately I dressed to impress my obnoxious cousin before we left or I would have appeared before the Prince of Wales in my travelling dress, my girl barely had the time to redo my hair and powder, and add some accessories.'

'You must be hungry then, and tired! I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, let me make it up to you by making certain there will be coffee during or after the show. We enjoy the services of two confectioners, you cannot believe the artistry they make of cakes and sweets. I'd offer to have you taken back home now but George knows you're expected, he will want to meet you. He reads all the papers, you see, he's not as ignorant a spendthrift as he is portrayed, he can be quite serious. You'll notice.

It's just amazing how I keep forgetting you're barely of age, Mrs Darcy, I can imagine why the reporters love you. And your Mr Darcy. He was virtually unknown to society, wasn't he? You certainly changed that, you and Mrs Fielding are the envy of all the ladies I know with your handsome men.'

'They all probably think it was on my insistence that he finally showed himself but it wasn't: it was Mr Fielding's career that forced both of us to come out of the woods. I'd just as soon have stayed anonymous.'

This seemed to surprise Mrs Fitzherbert, but by now they had reached the house and she led Elizabeth back in, past the servants guarding the door, who greeted politely and nothing more. Of course there was no-one else present but Eric and Georgiana, with Georgiana playing Eric's work on the little black piano! They had done other things in the privacy of their own quarters than indulge in the rights of a married couple, that was very obvious.

But as soon as they spied their hostess, she stopped playing, she could not have mastered this piece well enough to play it in public, this was just practice. Mrs Fitzherbert used the moment of silence and her guests' attention well.

'Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Fielding! You are very welcome here, I hope you like our instruments. I'm Mrs Fitzherbert.'

The young couple both got up and Eric bowed as Georgiana curtseyed. Elizabeth was so proud of both of them, they had such excellent manners.

'You have a lovely piano, Mrs Fitzherbert, it was perfectly tuned and I will love playing it tonight. I suppose quite a few famous hands have touched that keyboard, it will be such an honour to follow in their footsteps. We have brought our own instrument as well, not because we had no faith in yours, but because it is perfectly suited to my own compositions. You will hear the difference, I'm certain.'

'I'm certain His Highness will, Mr Fielding, thank you for taking the trouble. Prince George will be here any minute now, with his best friends and some people he cannot ignore. Please greet the Prince by his title, the rest can introduce themselves after your performance. He prefers to keep the formalities to a minimum on these occasions.'

And sure enough, as Mrs Fitzherbert showed Elizabeth to a seat close to the piano, the door opened and a group of ten men filed in, dressed to perfection and very formally, but chatting all the same. They wore old-fashioned breeches and buckled shoes, and some even wore wigs. Elizabeth could see instantly which one was the Prince, not because his style of dress was in any way different from that of the others for it wasn't. He merely resembled his descriptions very closely, and to be honest, some of the caricatures in their newspaper had been very striking, though generally rather unflattering. The real man was slightly less chubby, those drawings made him grossly fat which this man certainly wasn't. But his face was rounded, with at least one extra chin, and he did not have an athletic figure like Fitzwilliam or even Frederick, which made him easily recognizable. Still, he his features were not coarse or plain and he looked every inch a prince, and Elizabeth had no trouble at all feeling suitably impressed.

The four of them had risen at his entrance, of course, and were acknowledged by a mere nod of the royal head. Eric, Georgiana and Elizabeth simultaneously bowed or curtseyed, and did not sit back down until the Prince did. As instructed by Mrs Fitzherbert, Eric started to play immediately, a fiendishly difficult sonata, on the large instrument. Georgiana sat next to him and watched her husband with infatuation, such a sight to warm Elizabeth's heart. Then she took a good look around.

They were sitting in a large circle with the piano at the centre, a totally different set-up from the usual rows opposite the instrument, but of course this was a huge room with only a few people watching. Elizabeth was sitting closest to the little black piano, on the very right of the circle, and right next to her sat their hostess. Then there was a gap in which at least ten chairs might have been placed, and almost opposite the two of them the single file of important men started with the Prince of Wales himself, then four men his own age, all wearing breeches and buckled shoes and very lavishly ornamented coats in the army style, though not the army colour, of course. Apparently that was still the fashion among the truly highborn. Then two older men in a similar style but somehow even more old-fashioned, that might have been because of the powdered wigs they still wore with pride. Their cravats weren't worth mentioning. These must be the important hangers-on. Close to the piano on which Eric was playing now, the three youngest members of the group were still enjoying themselves. They looked like sportsmen, wearing boots instead of shoes and unadorned coats that could almost be hunting gear. Their hair was as long and as lavishly styled as Fitzwilliam's, and one of them even sported a moustache and a short beard. That did seem risky to Elizabeth, it made him stand out more than might be wise. But he must be a favourite of the Prince, so he could probably do whatever he liked.

Looking at the Prince himself to see how he liked the music, Elizabeth found him watching her, at least it seemed that way. Mrs Fitzherbert was sitting in her line of sight, and the Prince's, which made it more difficult to see what he was doing but also enabled her to do it a lot more secretively. At least towards him, his youngest friends could easily see anything she did, but they were captivated by the music. Maybe they would not be bored after all.

Yes, he really was trying to check her out, suppose he had read the newspaper and now wanted to see for himself whether her dress truly looked like it was made in Cheapside. Elizabeth found she still didn't care, she did not have to charm this man, preferably not. It was kind of satisfying to be wearing glass beads to a royal audience.

The next time she tried to take a good look at him, he actually managed to catch her eye and smiled and nodded. He was close to forty and looked like it, but he had a charming smile and she could not help returning it, it would be rude not to anyway. Suddenly Elizabeth understood why their hostess would have upset her life for decades to please this man, he seemed very much the charmer his reputation made him. Well, maybe they'd get a chance to find out whether he was also good company. Though having enjoyed an education fit for an Heir Presumptive, and in concurrence with his reputation as a patron of the arts, that could hardy be otherwise.

Meanwhile, it was great fun to watch Eric play and see his audience listen and watch in total rapture, especially those younger men. And Georgiana, she could not get enough of her beloved husband's talent. Until it was her own turn to perform, their Italian duet on pianoforte and harpsichord, the sonata that Eric always improvised an accompaniment to, this time he played the little black Zumpe while Georgiana wrestled with the grand piano.

After an hour of music Georgiana took a more comfortable seat while Eric readied himself behind the Zumpe, but Mrs Fitzherbert tactfully intervened.

'Thank you so much for your beautiful playing, Mr and Mrs Fielding. May I suggest that before you continue we all take a little refreshment? Mrs Darcy told me she hasn't had the chance to eat much today since she came all the way from Kent before being packed off to visit us.'

And she was right, Elizabeth was very hungry. Eric's music was food for her soul, and she hadn't been distracted from the performance by her empty stomach, but another hour without anything to eat was not an appealing prospect, especially not now she had been reminded of her situation. Of course Eric complied, he had seen for himself how little time Elizabeth had had between her arrival and their departure. And who knew, he might be hungry, too, or maybe he was just curious what would be served between meals in a Crown Prince's household.

They did not have to wait long, as soon as their hostess nodded to one of the liveried servants he rang a bell, and three liveried men entered with trays. Immediately, as if they had been waiting outside the room for some time. One was bearing several bottles of wine and quite a number of glasses, all on an ingeniously stacked tray. Elizabeth would not want to try to carry all that, she'd drop at least half the glasses and most likely all of them. The second had a China pot of what was probably tea, and everything needed to enjoy it. And the third was wheeling in a display with several beautiful works of art, a silver dish heaped with softly tinged roses in full bloom, a miniature of a beautiful group of life-like statues she had seen in the garden, and several cake stands laden with beautiful little cakes and fondants. Elizabeth's mouth almost started to water at the sight of such a feast, but despite her hunger she managed to keep a straight face and wait for the servers to start sharing out their delicacies to the guests.

But before these servants had set their trays down on a table fetched from some obscure place in the room, another host of servants arrived with a display of fruit and one of cold meat, as well as bread and pastries. This was a light snack between meals? No wonder the Prince was well-padded!

As Mrs Fitzherbert arranged everything to her liking the gentlemen spread out, the elder towards Eric, the younger to Georgiana, of course, and the Prince approached Elizabeth. He nodded and she curtseyed as deeply as she'd ever done, it was not likely she'd ever meet anyone of a higher rank. To her surprise his voice was mellow and very manly, she'd have expected him to sound almost boyish, he was not broad-shouldered nor square-jawed, though his was not a displeasing face.

'Mrs Darcy, I'm very pleased to finally meet you. I will not keep you long, you must be eager to try some of Maria's dainties, she knows exactly what ladies like to eat. Will you join me in drinking a glass of wine as well, though it may be early for you?'

Well, Elizabeth could appreciate the situation enough to postpone her meal, one did not get to meet a prince every day, and she had certainly not expected him to be as kind and informal as this. She acknowledged his offer with another curtsey and replied, 'Thank you, Your Highness, it would be an honour to enjoy a glass of wine with you. Though I admit I will not hesitate to try Mrs Fitzherbert's choice of food, I only heard I was going here half an hour before we arrived, I had no time to imagine what our visit was going to be like.'

As one of the servants handed both of them a beautiful glass of intensely red wine, the Prince first, of course, she could already smell the sweet, heavy aroma, not like anything she ever tasted before. Better take care not to set herself drunk on such a strong wine, on an empty stomach that was a very real danger, and it would make a very bad impression indeed.

The Prince laughed heartily at her observation and offered to toast, not to the entire party but just to her. Determined to trust to her own good sense and that of her future king, she did not show her slight discomfort with the situation. This man was a mature, sensible adult, and he would not do anything foolish. As he took his first sip of his wine, Elizabeth could not help sampling it first as Earl Compton had taught her, swirl it and smell it carefully and deeply, then take the tiniest sip and explore that very thoroughly. It was strong indeed, and still sweeter than any wine she had ever tasted. It must be something special, and so good it was dangerous, for to indulge in it would mean losing her wits very quickly.

'I'm glad you like it, and I'm impressed you know how to appreciate a quality wine. Have you ever had Madeira wine before? Never mind, I can see you have not, it's quite an experience, isn't it? I'd tell you to be careful on an empty stomach, but I'm certain you always are, despite your tender age. I must confess I had expected you to be a little older, Mrs Darcy, you cannot be long past coming of age, and yet you are very sophisticated.'

For a country girl of an unknown family no doubt.

'But aside from your youth the papers seem to have been right for once in their assessment of someone, I was afraid to find they had exaggerated your charms, but they did not. You won their approval and led them by the nose, then played a mighty joke on them with your French couture. And still they love you. I'd hire you to help me make a better impression on the people myself, everybody reads those newspapers and they generally do not paint a pretty picture of me, but I can see there is no artifice in you: you have no idea why they like you so much, you are not using them to get attention.'

Well, Elizabeth was not going to tell him her age if he didn't ask directly. Instead she replied mostly politely and brought the conversation from her person to the wine. That seemed rather a safe subject.

'Thank you, Your Highness, for your compliments. I have indeed never sought the approval of any reporter, on the contrary, we planned to mislead them about the dresses from the very moment someone stated with absolute certainty they were French, and they fell for it beyond our expectation. I'd never even think of buying anything overseas, I grew up without luxuries and I don't need them, though I really appreciate this wine. I've never tasted anything like it, sweet and positively heady at the same time.'

'It has been brought here over one of the roughest and most dangerous seas of them all, Mrs Darcy. But I suppose with luxuries you don't mean wine, it's a necessity of life after all.'

If it hadn't been very clear this was meant as a joke, she'd think him insensitive. Wasn't that why the French were supposedly beheading their gentility? Because they had no clue how normal people lived? As it was, there was no doubt he was being witty, and she could appreciate his humour. The papers certainly seemed to think he drank way too much wine, and he knew they did.

'It certainly is, like my hunter, though I suppose he is as English as ale.'

'You have a hunter, Mrs Darcy?'

'I do, though I haven't met him yet. He's at Pemberley, waiting for me to help me learn to hunt. I have a slightly more sedate horse right now.'

'Mrs Darcy, a woman who likes to ride is every gentleman's dream. Now I understand why your husband has a reputation for being very protective of you.'

Really? That was generally known?

Then she realised it was not that story of Mr Hurst's doing the rounds, it was Fitzwilliam's impressive size and dominant person, combined with his natural reticence giving the impression of his being possessive of his wife. And his current habit of wearing black pantaloons and unadorned shoes with his usual fitted coat could not but heighten his appearance of being unapproachable, even slightly dangerous.

'We did marry for love, Your Highness, and I discovered quickly that if I actually wanted to spend time with him I'd have to learn to ride. And then I found out I liked it, it gives such a feeling of speed and freedom. You know I ride astride in the country?'

This was meant to make him twice about proclaiming her the perfect woman, but of course its effect was exactly contrary. This man was not stuck on tradition, that much was clear.

'That's it, Mrs Darcy, I'm going to let you enjoy your wine and finally eat something, before I say or do something to give Mr Darcy a reason to be jealous. I believe Mr Fielding is more than ready to continue and of course he has another performance tonight, he needs to have some time to prepare. Though I hope he will allow me a few moments afterwards to discuss his music with me, I'm very impressed. See you later, Mrs Darcy.'

Elizabeth curtseyed again and observed, 'Thank you, Your Highness.'

Then she turned towards the table with the cakes and to her surprise discovered the number of roses greatly diminished, and the statues beheaded, the dark-brown spongy inside marbled with veins of white. The group of statues was a cake itself, not a work of art as she had thought! She now wondered what the roses were made of, for it was obvious they were another feat of confectionery art.

A very polite servant addressed her to explain what the 'art' was made of. She recognised his accent as French and realised he was not a mere server, but one of the specialists who made these fabulous pieces. She couldn't wait to taste them, all of them.

'The flowers are made of fondant and actually taste of roses, madame, and this cake is chocolate with a filling of lemon cream laced with bergamot. And you should try a cup of this hot chocolate, too, madame, is the latest development in France with vanilla and cream.'

Elizabeth accepted everything he offered, though she guessed wine and hot chocolate might mix doubtfully, but she had rarely tasted hot chocolate and suspected the Prince of Wales' to be even superior to the kind she had been served at Lady Catherine's table almost a year ago.

If Mr Hurst could have seen her carrying a plate with sweet dainties and a cup of hot chocolate he would have turned green with jealousy. Though she generally didn't like food that had been fussed over she expected to enjoy this, and her first sip from the cup proved her right. It was so good that for a moment she feared for her soul, to be tempted so much by something as earthly as food. Sweet, creamy and with something extra she knew was the chocolate, she couldn't wait to taste the cake.

It was even better, and she ate it slowly, to savour the delicacy. The flavours were new to her, the chocolate but also something tangy she guessed must be bergamot. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

By now, a hush fell over the room and Eric started to play, and she was hard put to divide her attention between the music and the cake. The cake won, it had help from the chocolate drink, and the fondant rose proved to be as good. Then the kind French confectioner brought her a pastry, unasked, and since her drink was finished by now she sipped her wine very slowly. Eating when someone was playing was not something she'd generally do in company, but everyone around her was eating and drinking while listening to Eric's revolutionary work. She had expected to be surrounded by stifling formality, but instead found herself more comfortable than at Rosings or at some of the private houses where Eric had performed in the last few months.

The little piano was performing fabulously, and Georgiana almost felt at home in this richly furnished room in the presence of the Prince of Wales and who knew how many other highly ranked nobles. That might be because her second performance went very well, but somehow she didn't think so. There was something about this place that made it less formal than a lot of other places she had seen. Maybe it was the Prince himself? They hadn't met him yet, he'd seemed totally taken with Elizabeth, but his general attitude was very relaxed and very informal. It was just what Frederick had warned them against, and Georgiana was glad she'd followed Eric's example and refused the wine they were offered. The hot chocolate they had gotten instead tasted much better anyway, as tempting but it wouldn't set her drunk.

She could see all the others indulging freely, except Mrs Fitzherbert, obviously a very sensible lady despite getting involved with a prince she could never claim as her own, and Elizabeth, who had a glass of wine but was merely nipping at it. Good. Like almost every intelligent man Georgiana had seen in Elizabeth's company, the Prince seemed quite taken with her, and Georgiana loved her brother and would hate to see anyone come between him and his beloved. But Elizabeth was one of the most sensible women Georgiana had ever known, and as long as nothing untoward happened she could handle any man, even the Heir Presumptive.

Mind turning back to the music, Georgiana wondered how an instrument could handle being lugged across half the town on the back of a carriage, even a well-sprung one, and only need a slight adjustment to its tuning. And how such a tiny piano could carry exactly the same mournful quality that a much larger instrument did. Of course it was much heavier than it looked, but still. Then the music grabbed her again, no matter how often she'd heard it before it could still free her mind of all sensible thought, and she gave herself up to the flow of Eric's performance. When he was done she felt almost sad it was over, image what other people must feel since they could not hear him play this beautiful composition whenever they wanted to.

Eric certainly seemed pleased with his performance, he kept an eye on his important audience but whispered to Georgiana, 'Congratulations, my love, you performed beautifully. Now remember, be formal.'

Elizabeth hadn't been, she'd been polite but did not refrain from her usual manner. But of course she hadn't been there when Frederick instructed them, and their host had started their exchange of wit. What was it with her sister-in-law that seemed to draw men to want to impress her with their intelligence and humour? No man ever tried to catch Elizabeth's attention with his importance or riches. Maybe they knew they'd fail, or maybe men like that did not feel her attraction. Well, the Prince certainly did, he came towards Eric but he was obviously rather sorry to not spend more time with Elizabeth. And she would not invite his attentions by joining his conversation with Eric, there were plenty of other men who were eager to make her acquaintance. Fortunately the Prince seemed truly interested in Eric, and in Georgiana herself, he even looked rather affected.

'Mr and Mrs Fielding, that was sublime! You were obviously meant for each other, two such talents.'

Eric bowed deeply and Georgiana followed his example with a curtsey. The Prince nodded kindly in return, and awaited their, 'Thank you, Your Highness,' before he praised Eric's virtuosity, their duets and their singing. But his real enthusiasm was reserved for Eric's romantic work, apparently he'd heard of its existence but never managed to find someone able to play it for him.

'And your instrument, I thought I had the best forte-piano money could but but I guess I was mistaken!'

With respect but not humility Eric corrected, 'Indeed you have the best instrument money can buy, Your Highness, I have never played a better. For virtuous, glad music. I have found that deeper, more feeling music sounds better on an English piano, and for some reason its size doesn't seem to matter. I have a large, ornate one myself, but the general sound is much the same. This one is much easier to bring along, though.'

'I suppose I will have to get one of those, too, then, for I want to hear more of this romantic music.'

Eric, do not tell him there are no other romantic composers in London, yet. Do not tell him or he'll keep you in town indefinitely.

'There are plenty of beautiful Zumpe pianos for sale, Your Highness, and a lot of them have this special quality. The problem will be finding someone to play the right kind of music on them, so far we have not heard of anyone else composing or even playing this new music.'

He had to say it, hadn't he? Now this powerful man would not let Eric go to Pemberley to find a measure of rest when he so deserved it. When their new marriage needed some time spent together, without over-eager ladies trying to interfere with their intimacy. Nor did Georgiana want charming powerful men meddling in her brother's marriage, and all those other men, old or young, had already flocked to Elizabeth's side. And looking at the Prince he would not let Elizabeth leave for Derbyshire if he could keep her around to provide him with entertaining conversation, together with her brother-in-law's music. He was already trying to include her in his conversation with Eric. Elizabeth seemed to be avoiding his gaze, though Georgiana could not be certain she did it on purpose, Elizabeth could be very subtle if she had reason to be and there were a lot of other people, men, actually, claiming her attention.

'Mrs Fielding, I'm so glad to make your acquaintance!'

It was Mrs Fitzherbert, she didn't seem concerned with the situation. Georgiana greeted her politely, and was glad their hostess seemed altogether pleased, not worried about her other female guest claiming all the men.

'Mrs Darcy does not seem unduly impressed with men of rank, does she? I know she is a general favourite but having heard she was from the country I expected her to be less at home in a setting like this.'

Was she fishing for information? If so, Georgiana had no idea what it was the lady wanted to know.

'Eric, Mr Fielding, has been giving private concerts for over three months, Mrs Fitzherbert, and Elizabeth accompanied us to most of them. As our chaperone, you see, we have only been married for three days. I guess she has gotten used to being among city people of a certain standing. Also, her courage rises with every attempt to intimidate her.'

That brought the expected laugh and a warm observation, 'That is something she actually said, isn't it? I think I could get to like your sister-in-law very much, Mrs Fielding, and I suspect George feels the same. She told me you were planning to leave for your estate come Monday?'

'We are. It will be our honeymoon. Eric has been dodging admirers of all walks of life for months, and he needs a rest. They'll stop at nothing, I suppose it's only his sense of propriety that is holding them back from doing more than trying to talk to him or touch him. They would demean themselves for him if they thought he'd fall for it.'

Now the poor lady showed some of her experiences for Georgiana to see.

'You have no idea how right you are. Most of those educated, perfectly mannered, even married, girls and ladies out there only need encouragement to shame themselves. I can assure you from bitter experience that fame and power attract a certain type of woman, and not all men can resist their attraction.'

Of course her man could not, if rumour could be believed the Heir Presumptive had had scores of mistresses, some of them married to highly ranked men.

'Why do you suppose those men don't flock to you, Mrs Fielding? You are at least as beautiful and as well-dressed as your sister.'

Georgiana had wondered, they had been eager enough to make her acquaintance when the Prince was talking to Elizabeth. Not that she minded being left alone.

'Would it surprise you to know it's the Prince's attention that makes the difference? I'm afraid George is surrounded by sycophants, Mrs Fielding. Mark my words, as soon as he has spoken two words to you they'll be all over you, too. If you didn't have another appointment soon I'd have to save Mrs Darcy from them. As it is, I think she can handle them for half an hour.'

Georgiana seriously doubted she could ever stand loving a man who would hang out with people he didn't actually like, and who would succumb to the charms of married women, or even any other woman than herself. Poor Mrs Fitzherbert, despite the easy life with every luxury imaginable she could not but be unhappy sometimes. To think such a man was the next king. And the lady's own life wasn't without sin, she was living with a man she was not married to, most people were very eager to condemn a woman for that, though of course Mrs Fitzherbert was a Roman Catholic, which to some was bad enough, even if she had been properly married. Anne's choice seemed much more fortunate, both in the man she had come to love as well as her decision to get married to Frederick.