Chapter 135

Finally, Elizabeth could imagine what Eric must have felt like at almost every concert. The prince's friends were all gathered around her in mindless adulation. They who had looked like reasonably sensible men from a distance, while they were enjoying superior music, turned out to be empty-headed, vain, and hopelessly enamoured of their master. He wasn't even their master, they were all high-ranking nobles in their own right, but they didn't seem to have a mind of their own anyway. It was annoying and very tiresome to be admired not for some superior quality, but because someone else showed an interest. Which was similar to what Eric experienced, though his admirers probably liked his looks, too. Elizabeth was well aware that neither of these men would have even looked at her twice if she hadn't been reasonably pretty herself.

Although the prince did seem to be the type to look further than the outside, Mrs Fitzherbert was not hideous but she was not an outstanding beauty, not at her age, nor could she have been even when younger. A person's nose didn't change much with age after all and she had a sizeable one. None of her features were coarse or graceless, but neither could they ever have been truly refined. Her eyes were heavily lidded, and age had not been kind to her skin, which was very light and seemed to have wrinkled more than say Mrs Annesley's, who was of a similar age, in her early forties.

Oh well, it was clear enough these gentlemen tried to please Elizabeth because they thought she was in their adored prince's good graces, having caught his attention so quickly and so totally. For he was trying to make eye-contact with Elizabeth even now, while he was undoubtedly discussing Eric's romantic music, a much more interesting subject of conversation than what Elizabeth and himself had been talking about. He seemed to want to include her in their lively discussion, but that would bring his whole entourage down on Eric and Georgiana, who might not appreciate being groomed by men of influence right before they'd have to face another hall filled with admirers. Let them talk to the prince in peace, while Elizabeth entertained a gaggle of gentlemen, like she'd seen Mrs Kemble do so skilfully in Newcastle.

It was much better not to have the prince paying attention to her, it would make Fitzwilliam jealous as well as Mrs Fitzherbert. Just like Nick Fowler feared Fitzwilliam because he had power over ordinary servants, so Elizabeth instinctively felt it was better not to be noticed by someone so much more powerful than her husband as the heir to the British throne. Despite liking the Prince, he seemed the kind of person she could get along with really well, he was kind, intelligent and even learned, she preferred to let their acquaintance end here. The guzzling of wine going on around her and in which he participated reminded her of the stories surrounding Frederick's clique. Nice enough at first glance, but who knew what was going on behind the scenes?

'Mrs Darcy, would you like another glass of wine?' one of the younger men asked. He had been one of those completely taken by the music, she couldn't help that influencing her opinion of him for the better.

'Thank you for your offer, Lord Every,' she replied as a matron to a youngster, when he must be about her own age, 'this is excellent wine, but isn't it a lot stronger than common vintages?'

At least three of the older men took turns telling her how Madeira wine was made on the far-away island, how it was aged, and how it acquired its sweetness and high percentage of alcohol. She still hadn't answered the young Lord's question, though, and she dared not be rude and refuse his offer altogether, but she could not let herself become intoxicated either, that would be very dangerous to her reputation and possibly even her virtue.

'I always drink my wine well-watered, but I would not desecrate Madeira wine that way. Therefore I will beg you to give me just the wine, one third of a glass instead of a full?'

He was young enough to comply, and she would make it last until they were ready to leave, which could not be long. Mrs Fitzherbert was keeping an eye on her watch, Elizabeth had seen her check it regularly. She could not want Elizabeth to linger, nor did Elizabeth want to do anything else with the Prince besides taking leave of him very politely. Too bad he had such a reputation for being a philanderer, or she could have enjoyed talking to him.

Elizabeth did not own a pocket watch, but by the time she was thoroughly fed up with her current company she was certain it was time for them to go. So far she had refrained from looking in Eric and Georgiana's direction, not to give their host the opportunity to catch her eye, but now she really wanted to know how her brother and sister were faring. She looked up and saw both of them talking with the other couple, they seem to have a good time, even Georgiana. Excusing herself to her companions she moved towards the little group and was received heartily.

'Mrs Darcy, you managed to escape my entourage! And now I suppose you are going to help Mr and Mrs Fielding to escape mine. Too bad, I would have liked to hear more about Mr Fielding's travels to Prague, I was so taken by his musical representation of the rough country around it. And I was looking forward to getting to know you, Mrs Darcy, we only exchanged a few polite sentences. Are you really going to the country to hunt?'

'I certainly am, Your Highness,' Elizabeth replied, tickled he should choose the topic that would scandalise most men. 'I can't wait to try my Christmas present.'

'The hunter was your Christmas present? Your husband must love you a great deal to gift you with a horse.'

Elizabeth smiled, maybe this could shock him.

'Actually, he gave me a hunting rifle, made especially to my size.'

'He did not! An English gentleman gifting his wife a rifle, so she can ride astride and shoot? Are you going to jump obstacles as well?'

'I suppose I'll have to during a hunt, don't you think? I've never hunted before, I'm going to have a lot to learn. Are you a sportsman, Your Highness?'

He didn't look like it, but who knew what kind of a rider he was. Though most chubby men were sedentary types. He did look slightly sad.

'I used to be when I was still a young man. But these days I'm mostly too busy to leave town, I love driving my own phaeton and ponies and I do ride whenever I get the chance but alas, no time for hunting trips. And usually there is a carriage waiting to take me wherever I want. I hear your husband has the most wonderful team in town, though I suppose he is an avid sportsman as well if he wants you to ride and even hunt.'

Elizabeth did not check her laugh and observed, 'I kind of take them for granted, his thoroughbreds, but they are really fast indeed, I left Kent an hour before lunch and arrived in time for this visit. Though I didn't have time to dress to newspaper standards. But you are right, as proud as Mr Darcy is of his team, he much prefers to ride. He cannot wait to go back to the country.'

'I can hear you are longing for it, too, Mrs Darcy. But I hope you'll do us the honour of waiting on us one last time before leaving. Maybe Monday evening, or the next? If you bring Mr Darcy I'll make sure to leave my entourage behind, and we can talk after listening to Mr and Mrs Fielding.'

'They're leaving on Monday, George, you were just in time to catch them in town.'

Good, it was better Mrs Fitzherbert tell him they could not come.

'That cannot be true! I was looking forward so much to hearing those magnificent compositions again, and to claiming Mrs Darcy for a whole evening of lively conversation. But there is still tomorrow, isn't there?'

Visit on a Sunday? He could not be serious!

'Never mind, I can see you're scandalized by my suggestion to have fun on a Sunday. But I'm certain Mr and Mrs Fielding here play their pianos on the day of the Lord, and not just hymns. You are never deprived of superior music, Mrs Darcy, as I am, all too often.'

He was right, of course, they did play the usual on Sundays. And the others enjoyed their efforts thoroughly and without a bad conscience.

'Can't you postpone one day, please? All of you? It would make me very happy, Mrs Darcy. And I would make it worth your while, Mr Fielding. I know young couples can use some help to form their own establishment, and I am known as a patron of the arts. I can help you make a name for yourself beyond the adulation and the papers, among people who truly appreciate music. Please think about it.'

Of course they could not refuse. Elizabeth didn't want to come back here but she could not admit to that or even show it in her expression, they'd have to go and appear pleased. At least she'd have Fitzwilliam with her, if only he wouldn't show his jealousy too badly.

Eric merely looked tired, already, and he had another concert in a few hours, but Georgiana could not help showing some alarm. She wanted to leave town, really badly, which was not like her at all, so it must have to do with her wanting to be alone with Eric. And rightly so, they had had no honeymoon or even more than a day's rest from concerts for over three months. And even on their very wedding they had been the subject of adulation and speculation. But they dared not refuse, that much was clear.

Help came from an unexpected quarter. Mrs Fitzherbert might be a mere mistress, she knew how to handle her man, be he the Heir Presumptive to the most important country in the world. She took him to the side for a few moments, then they both returned.

'I'm sorry,' the Prince now remarked, 'I'm often a bit selfish, people tend to give me what I want even if it is unreasonable. Maria tells me you haven't even had a honeymoon, and that you are very tired, Mr Fielding. In fact, I can see you are, and you have another show this evening. I will not make any more demands on your time, your music will keep, and if I cannot wait for next season any longer, or find someone else to play romantic music for me, I'll visit you in Derbyshire. Just myself and Maria, Mrs Darcy, don't worry. I want to see you ride astride and hunt, I think I can still shoot a few pheasants myself. Will you take your surprising little instrument with you, Mr Fielding?'

Eric was almost speechless with relief, but he did manage a reply.

'I suppose I will, Your Highness, there is no Zumpe at Pemberley. Though we never discussed it. It is not very large, but it may be too unwieldy and heavy to bring along.'

'We probably will, Your Highness,' Georgiana bravely said. 'If Eric wants to compose and practise he will need the right instrument. But first we are going to take a whole week off, he is tired and so am I. Thank you for understanding.'

She didn't believe one moment that this man would travel four days to hear romantic music, but Elizabeth wasn't so sure. She might want to herself, if she didn't have Eric living with them. Maybe he should have taught someone to keep the genre alive. Though of course he had been teaching Mr Clementi.

'Is Mr Clementi ready to play for an audience?' she asked.

'He played for an audience before I was even born, but romantic music is almost the opposite of his own style. I'm afraid he won't consent to perform until he has written his own music at the very least. No, I'm afraid he will take at least six months to meet his own standards and get the right material. Though he must have plenty of interesting experiences to write about, his youth in Italy, his apprenticeship there, wandering the country in his journeyman years, Tuscany, Rome, the Pantheon, Venice. Somehow, playing romantic music brings it all back, he'll start putting his life's experiences to music soon, mark my words.'

'And who is this?' the Prince asked, interested.

'Mr Clementi, Your Highness, a builder of beautiful pianos like your own, as well as a composer, performer and teacher of every music style known to pianists. He lives right here in London. He has been teaching me but is also learning the romantic style, with my help. We have become good friends, though he must be near sixty.'

'Ah, Mr Clementi, I know of him, he is a favourite of my father's. I never did dare invite him over but I suppose if he is the only one remotely competent in this fabulous new music style I'll take the chance. My esteemed father doesn't care much for newfangled things, he will resist a new kind of music, which means your Mr Clementi may want to perform for me instead. Good, I will send someone over to show an interest, so he doesn't lose his motivation to develop this new style with you days away in the North. Are his instruments any good?'

'Certainly, they're much like your grand piano, very high quality, beautifully decorated and very expensive. Same clear sound, too.'

'So you'd use your piano to teach him?'

'He has bought one of these, a larger, decorated one. When Mr Zumpe used to be his most fervent competitor. Mr Zumpe made this little piano, but he usually makes much larger ones. The sound is the same, though.'

'Very interesting, I could talk music and instruments for hours. But Maria is gesturing it is time to let you go to your next appointment, so I will, under protest. Good bye, Mr and Mrs Fielding, it was a pleasure to meet you and hear you play.

And Mrs Darcy, I truly wish you'd stay. You don't need to go to the concert, do you? You can have dinner with us and we can talk sensibly and drink wine.'

Elizabeth laughed merrily, what else could she do?

'I was not planning on attending the concert, Your Highness. I was up at seven to ramble through a lovely park in Kent, then left for London just before lunch and arrived at half past three. My maid managed to do my hair afresh, but you see me in the same dress I travelled in, packed off as soon as I returned. I have had a great time and I'm glad I came, but I am also rather tired and not up to entertaining someone of your intelligence and knowledge all by myself, I'd only disappoint you.'

But now Mrs Fitzherbert surprised Elizabeth by showing she was no stranger to being spoiled and used to getting her way. And, apparently, not afraid of the competition.

'Please do, Mrs Darcy, I'll give you a tour of the house and then show you to a room where you can rest for an hour, and my ladies will choose a suitable dress for you from my collection. I'm certain we have one in your size, they'll make you feel like a veritable princess. Please indulge George and myself, we'll send away all these men, and I promise you'll be home with Mr Darcy at ten 'o clock sharp.'

'Yes, Mrs Darcy, please?' the Prince pleaded, 'you can even have your wine watered.'

He said it as if it was a grand concession, and his cheeky expression broke Elizabeth's will, if that was the price she had to pay for them all to be able to leave on Monday, so be it. Frankly, she was dying to get a tour of the house, this one minor room was so magnificent the rest must be absolutely stunning. And Mrs Fitzherbert would be there the whole time.

'All right, you've convinced me, I'll stay for dinner. Fitzwilliam will not be pleased, but I'll make it up to him.'

She still wondered how the Prince knew she was worried about the wine, had he been listening in on her conversation with his hangers-on while talking to Eric and Georgiana?

Though Georgiana seemed rather shocked at Elizabeth's conceding, their host and hostess were truly pleased, and Eric really did understand her action. His sister-in-law was giving a powerful and spoiled man a tiny part of what he wanted, to get away with refusing him the rest. She had made a good deal as far as he was concerned, she obviously didn't dislike the idea of seeing the whole house, and he could imagine her enjoying dinner as well, in all its richness and exclusiveness. And with Mrs Fitzherbert around all the time her virtue would also be safe.

But it did mean he and Georgiana would have to be the bearers of bad news, telling Darcy his wife was not coming home, yet, but staying at Carlton House for another few hours in the sole presence of the Prince of Wales and his current mistress. Eric didn't fear Darcy's anger, he was a reasonable man and would understand there had been no escape for Elizabeth. No, Eric feared that Darcy would be crushed, spending every minute his beloved was away from him in acute distress. He was so protective of his young wife, and Eric suspected he still underestimated her. He'd be afraid she had let herself be taken in by the British equivalent of Don Juan, when as far as Eric could see it was actually Elizabeth who had charmed both the Prince and his mistress. Well, he and Georgiana were wise, married people now, and they would try their very best to convince Darcy that all would be well, really.

Of course Darcy could not fault Georgie and Fielding for returning with their beloved piano but without his beloved wife. But no-one, not even Manners and Anne together, could convince him to attend the very last concert of this season with the rest of them. He would stay in and wait for Elizabeth to come home, what if something had happened and she was upset when she returned? She'd need him and he had to be there for her.

When they had all said good bye and left, he fetched a novel from the library. He didn't usually read novels, but Elizabeth had recommended this one highly and he knew other people's troubles were perfect to forget one's own for a few hours. Which worked for almost an hour, she was right, it was well-written and even quite entertaining, but then his stomach started rumbling, breaking his concentration and reminding him he hadn't been able to eat at dinner time. Who could spend time on something as inconsequential as dinner when the light of his life might be seduced by the second most powerful man in the Kingdom at that very same moment? A man who had mistress after mistress, all smart and beautiful, and generally married.

Time came to a halt as his thoughts turned bleak and his stomach churned. He should eat something but he just couldn't, poor Elizabeth, sacrificing herself for her brother and sister. And for him, why hadn't she agreed to come back the next day, or Monday? Then she would have had him to protect her from the Prince.

Maybe she didn't want him around, maybe she was afraid he'd make a fool of himself out of jealousy. It was not unthinkable. It was even likely he'd be jealous if yet another man showed his admiration as blatantly as so many others had done. But what if she didn't want him there because she was actually interested in her powerful host? What if she wanted him to fall for her? So many married women had chosen him over their lawful husbands.

This despicable train of thoughts was fortunately cut short by the door opening. Blushing with shame as if the person entering could read his thoughts he looked up and saw Simon approaching very carefully, tray in his hands. Simon, still acting like a servant? Why?

'Mr Darcy? Frederick said you'd eaten hardly anything at dinner. He was worried and asked me to look in on you, maybe talk a little. Do you mind?'

No he did not mind. In fact he needed to talk to someone, for if he did not those despicable thoughts might find a hold in his mind and poison it, then damage his bond with the woman he loved and trusted. He trusted Elizabeth, why would he think such a thing?

'Don't underestimate the only woman you could love in all of ten years, Darcy.'

Simon's address had changed, not only was he suddenly as familiar as Darcy had asked him to be, his tone was more masculine and rather more decisive than he had ever heard it. This was the man speaking, not the servant. Surprised, Darcy looked up, Simon had put away the tray and now sat down right next to him.

'Your wife may be young but she is not naïve. What can a tubby, forty-year-old, average-looking man offer her that you haven't already given her? Riches? Expensive clothes? Status? You know she doesn't care about those. And our Crown Prince may be spoiled but I am convinced he is a sensible man, he does not force women to give themselves to him. There is no danger, all will be well. Won't you eat something after all? Your wife trusts us to keep you healthy. I've brought soup and a few pastries, nothing more.'

He was so right, and he was such an admirable man. Darcy was glad he was now independently wealthy as well.

'I will try to stop worrying, and I will eat, I'm hungry. And Simon?'

Still the man sitting there next to him, Darcy remembered this side of Simon from years of close companionship. When had he turned into a servant? Had Elizabeth done that to him? Or had the harassment over his preferences damaged him?

'Thank you. For everything you did for me all those years. I'm sorry that my love for Elizabeth drove us apart, we used to be such good friends.'

Now Simon smiled as if he instantly remembered all those times they spent together, well, at least partly together.

'It was my pleasure, despite my unfulfilled wishes I enjoyed most of them very much. And please don't reproach yourself or Mrs Darcy. I decided to take a step back when Frederick came to live with us: I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I may have gone a little too far...'

And he meant it, he really made his own decision to become the perfect servant! That was a huge relief, to part with someone who had spent a significant part of his life on him would be much easier for Darcy, knowing there would be no disappointment or reproaches towards him.

Simon's expression became soft for a fraction of a second, then he patted Darcy on his shoulder none too gently and stated, 'Come, you need to eat something. I'm sure Mrs Darcy will be faced with foie gras and ragout at this very moment and you know how she detests over-seasoned gourmet food. You may sympathise with her hardships but please don't aim to suffer the pangs of hunger instead.'

That was exactly how Manners described his friends showing affection, Simon even sounded like a college boy! Such a born actor! Deciding to turn the tables on him for a change, Darcy replied as bashfully as he could, 'I submit to your sound reasoning, please allow me to have some of this soup, and I won't decline a pastry either.'

And so Darcy ate his soup with Simon looking on benevolently. After that Simon even joined him by eating one of the pastries himself.

'Oh, that is very good, excellent in every respect. You have a great cook, Darcy, worth every penny you pay him.'

'And don't forget the exclusive ingredients he needs to buy, they cost almost as much as his salary. But it's all worth it, that is certain.'

Pretty soon the tray was empty of food, and Simon sent him one more look of great fondness then retreated back to his own domain. Leaving Darcy alone with his thoughts once again, though he did manage to get back into the action of the novel.

When he finally heard a carriage outside there was no-one to see him running towards the window, eager to ascertain it was indeed Elizabeth arriving, but also quite a bit interested to see the kind of equipage the heir to the throne would use to have a lady visitor taken home. But the carriage waiting outside was all too familiar and the people as well, checking the clock Darcy discovered it was past eleven, a normal time for Georgie and the others to return. Where was Elizabeth?

Of course they all tried to soothe him that all would be well but he could see the doubt in their eyes. Soon they all paired off and took their leave to go to bed, leaving Darcy behind once again, to worry even more. Still he did not blame Elizabeth, Georgie and Fielding had described how much pressure both Prince George and his lady had brought to bear on poor Elizabeth before she'd agreed to stay for dinner.

As the hands of the clock crept towards twelve, Darcy started to despair she'd even come home at all. What was happening at Carlton House? Could the plain, chubby middle-aged Prince have forced Elizabeth to do as pleased him? She couldn't want to actually be with him, could she? She loved only him, didn't she? He didn't want to doubt her but he couldn't help himself, and in an agony of feelings he waited and waited for what seemed like hours.

At half past twelve, the sound of shod hoofs on cobblestones announced Elizabeth's return, and amidst all his feelings Darcy was to glad to be mostly relieved she was coming home, and not at all angry at her for being late. None of this was her fault, she must have been aching to go home all this time.

Before the carriage had come to a halt Darcy had ran down the hall and burst out of the front door. He had no sense of dignity or sedateness left, he just wanted his beloved in his arms. Or did he? A tiny part of him did register that the expected fancy equipage was not there, not the heavy coach pulled by four solid greys each with a liveried groom, no gold plate or fancy ornamentation. This was actually just a high perch phaeton with a pair of magnificent chestnut ponies. Even their blazes seemed perfectly matched in the moonlight. A phaeton? That could only mean Elizabeth was accompanied by none other than the Prince of Wales himself, who had the reputation of choosing to drive himself in such a smart and quick conveyance.

But all thought of princes, carriages and even of horses instantly fled his mind when he saw his beloved coming towards him, enveloped in a priceless fur coat. She was as glad to see him, and even though a burly shape behind her proved it was indeed the prince himself who had returned her they could not but fall into a tight embrace. To have the light of his life back safely, and in his arms where she belonged was a relief beyond imagination. She did not smell as usual, but the thick fur coat might account for that, apparently it had come from some place of storage for it smelled faintly of moth-repellent herbs. Her hair was also different from usual, nice, but done up much more intricately than he had ever seen it.

'I'm so sorry to be late, my love, there was so much to see, we totally lost track of time.'

She held him at arms' length, fortunately her arms were much shorter than his own and she was not too far away, and said feelingly, 'You've been worried sick, I can see it. I'll make it up to you, I promise.'

It was hard to regain control of his feelings, but now he knew Elizabeth was safe and aware she was very late, Darcy did not want to humiliate himself further before his future monarch. He had shown his feelings much too strongly, he was not ashamed to adore his beautiful perfect wife, but very ashamed not to just have trusted her to return when the circumstances allowed it.

'Oh, to be young, beautiful and so much in love,' spoke an amused voice right in front of him. 'Please don't blame your wife, Mr Darcy, it's all my fault. I'm afraid I'm terribly spoiled and used to getting my way. Mrs Darcy did not dare refuse me her company for a few more hours.'

Darcy looked up from Elizabeth's delicious throat which he was planning to kiss next, it was bad manners to ignore anyone, not just the royal heir, they would have plenty of time for kisses and the likes later.

'Thank you for bringing her back yourself, Your Highness.'

'It was the least I could do, I knew it would be a bit chilly at this time of the year to use my private team, but you have no idea how long it takes to ready my official carriage. Mrs Darcy assured me she would not be offended to sit in a simple rig in an ancient fur coat if only it would take her home quickly to spare you further anguish. You are a lucky man, Mr Darcy, I've heard it took you ten years to find your true love and I assure you, it was time well-spent.'

He offered a surprisingly firm handshake, and Darcy could not help liking this man, despite what the papers said about his spendthrift and shameful affairs. And despite him saying he was spoiled without showing the slightest form of shame for being thus. He knew he was used to getting his way but obviously thought he had the right to expect people to do his bidding. Never mind, as long as he left Darcy's wife alone he was welcome to his entitlement.

'I'm very glad to have met your husband, Mrs Darcy, and to find him handsome, decent, and very fond of you. You deserve to be loved.

Mr Darcy, I'm looking forward to getting to know you, next season in London, or maybe a little before that if your brother-in-law's music keeps haunting my mind day and night as it does even now.'

Darcy bowed as deeply as he managed to acknowledge the Prince's kindness, though he had no idea what the man meant with his allusions to hearing Fielding play again before next fall. Hopefully he was not going to summon them to Carlton House in the middle of summer. Well, Darcy was not going to ask, better to let sleeping dogs lie.

'Well, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy, I'd better return to my own house before I'm spotted by some overzealous reporter, though for their benefit I hope they are allowed to go home at night. It has been a true pleasure to have your company, Mrs Darcy, thank you very much for obliging me. Feel free to keep both the coat and the dress, Maria doesn't fit them anymore, and she doesn't like to go out in public anyway, for obvious reasons.'

He took Elizabeth's hand and kissed it reverently, and Darcy thought of galloping Bucephalus across a certain long hill close to Pemberley, an incongruity but the situation needed his favourite horse as well as his favourite place to be. Then they shook hands once again, the Prince reminding Darcy of Manners, the same outgoing jolliness but underneath that, the conviction to know best and the iron will to enforce it.

'Thank you very much for your kindness, Your Highness, and will you please convey my regards to Mrs Fitzherbert? I've had a magnificent time. And my heartfelt thanks for the offer of coat and dress. Please do not be offended if I return them after all, it's not that I don't love them but I have little opportunity to wear garments of such magnificence and they belong to Mrs Fitzherbert, I'm quite certain she is attached to them, she did hold onto them for all these years.'

Well, someone at least was not impressed by the Prince's forcefulness. Pride for his strong-willed beloved filled Darcy, and he couldn't wait to tell her so.

'I bow to your superior knowledge of the female mind, Mrs Darcy. Come to think of it, Maria does get attached to clothes. Thank you for thinking of my domestic felicity. Good night!'

And with that he turned on his heels, climbed the high seat with remarkable agility for such a heavy man, and drove off. Shame it was the middle of the night, Darcy would have loved to check out that team.