Author's Note: We return briefly to Longbourn in this chapter before seeing a little of Elizabeth's time in London. Next chapter, a night at the theatre and maybe the ball, we'll see. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 30
Saturday, 29 February 1812
Longbourn

Thomas Bennet was bored. For much of the last fifteen years, he had spent time in his book room reading and ignoring his family and estate. Elizabeth had proven to be a good companion, and he had enjoyed the time spent teaching her. She had been a good companion for him, far more of a companion than his wife had ever been.

Despite his lack of interest in his daughters, they were a distraction from the sameness he was suffering. His wife had stopped bothering him after their last argument and spent her time either in her room or with her sister in Meryton. They rarely encountered one another anymore; both had taken to having their meals on trays. He ate in his book room, and she in her sitting room when she was not dining out.

Few gentlemen bothered to visit Bennet before his daughters left, and none sought him out now. If they had concerns, they met directly with the steward or his brother Phillips, knowing that he had entirely surrendered its running over to Elizabeth and her husband.

No one wrote to him either. Any school friends who might have corresponded at one point had stopped long ago once his replies grew further and further apart until he finally stopped altogether.

Therefore, he was quite surprised to see his brother Phillips enter his room. He had not been announced; had Hill asked to show him in, he would have declined, so they gave him no choice.

"Mr. Collins is dead," Phillips began without preamble. "I have begun investigating for any other heirs, but based on my previous search, I believe none will appear. Therefore, I have taken the liberty to write a new will, leaving the estate to Elizabeth as she is the only one who has ever been interested in the estate. She does not need it since her husband has Pemberley, but together with Gardiner and me, she will decide which of her sisters will eventually inherit. I have not shared this with her yet."

Bennet laughed harshly. "You have written a will for me. Is that not a little presumptuous? What if I do not wish to make Lizzy my heir? After all, she deserted me and married against my wishes."

"Bennet, I do not care what you want. I am telling you what you will do, and I will ensure it comes to pass, one way or another. You sit in your bookroom all day and ignore your wife. Before your daughters left, you sat in your bookroom all day and ignored your daughters, except for Lizzy, who you treated as your steward. You still ignored her when you chose to and used her to run the estate so you could pursue your own interests. You attempted to keep her from marrying a man she loved and who loved her in return because you wanted her to continue to do what you would not."

"I will not sign this document nor any others you put before me. You have deceived me once; you will not do so again. I will leave Longbourn to whoever I choose," Bennet retorted stubbornly. With his arms folded across his chest, Phillips thought he looked like a small child insisting on getting his way.

"That will require you to leave your bookroom to go to St. Albans or another town to get a lawyer to come here. It will also require you to pay it from your 'allowance' from the estate. I already know you have spent your present allowance as everyone in town knows you attempted to demand Mr. Thompson in the bookstore bill the estate for your books. I also know you are out of port, which is why you have offered me none. Perhaps, if you were to stir from your bookroom and apologise to Lizzy, you might find she is willing to discuss matters. But perhaps not, since she has come to realise how you have used her over the years."

Bennet scowled again. "She is the one who defied me. Why would I apologise to her?"

"She chose to go where she was loved for herself. Lizzy was deeply hurt when she realised you only fought against her marriage because you wanted her to remain here to run Longbourn and keep you company. That is, when you wanted company since when you wanted to be left alone, you sent her away."

"So she chose to run away with that man. She will be no happier with him than she was here. He will only use her as a broodmare and never appreciate her wit or intelligence. She will be trapped at his estate in a year, and he will visit when he wants to get her with an heir. He will seek his pleasure with mistresses and courtesans and ignore his family." Bennet was firmly convinced that the narrative he had crafted in his mind would prove true. It mirrored the kind of marriage he might have enjoyed had he desired to venture away from his home. Early in his marriage, he had sought pleasure in a few "respectable" places in London, but it did not take long for him to realise he preferred the company of his books over that of these women. At least with a book, he could derive enjoyment repeatedly, not just once.

"You continue to be a fool, Bennet, and I am done with you. Fanny is tired of you ignoring her and intends to stay with Agnes and me for a while. If you would like her to return home, you must come to Meryton to retrieve her. My brother Gardiner has also offered for her to come to London for a time later this spring, and she is considering it. We understand that Lizzy will be in town for a few months, and she hopes to see her there."

Bennet frowned but opted not to speak again. He waved his brother-in-law away and returned to his book when that gentleman showed himself out.

When Phillips returned to his office, he wrote a letter to the Darcys and the Gardiners to inform them of the conversation that day and how he intended to get around Bennet's obstinacy regarding the disposition of Longbourn.

Monday, 2 March 1812
London

The trip to the modiste was successful, though Elizbeth was glad it was over. She was astounded at the number of dresses her aunts had ordered and had nearly groaned in frustration several times as she was helped in and out of each of them to check the fit. She whispered her secret to the modiste so the dresses would not grow too snug as quickly as her body would likely change in the coming months.

After sharing her news with her husband the other night, he had promised to remove her from London as soon as she wished, willing to ignore Lady Matlock's edicts and protestations if necessary. Elizabeth had laughingly reassured him that would be unnecessary and could not help but laugh harder at the look on his face that evoked. Never before had she seen her husband pout, but his face was undoubtedly one mimicking a child who had been deprived of a treat.

Recalling this — and what had followed — made Elizabeth smile and tolerate another hour or two of the poking and prodding required.

Lady Matlock expressed her satisfaction with the gowns. Occasional disagreements had arisen between her and Mrs. Gardiner concerning the level of embellishments on certain dresses and disputes on the colours and styles of others. However, upon seeing the gowns on Elizabeth, Lady Matlock conceded that Elizabeth's aunt had an uncanny knack for discerning what suited her niece best.

One aspect that endeared Elizabeth to shopping with her aunt was Mrs. Gardiner's remarkable ability to discern what suited her best. It was not solely about the latest fashions but rather about understanding Elizabeth's style and preferences.

The gown chosen for the upcoming ball was an exquisite creation, crafted from silk in various shades of green. Its intricate design complemented Elizabeth well, its silhouette accentuating Elizabeth's graceful figure, with a fitted bodice and a flowing, voluminous skirt that cascaded elegantly to the floor. The back of the gown featured delicate fabric-covered buttons, adding a refined touch and ensuring every angle was as enchanting as the last.

Upon donning this remarkable ensemble, Elizabeth was astonished at seeing herself looking sophisticated and almost regal. In this dress, she would make her entrance before London's social elite. In the flickering candlelight of the ballroom, the hues of the gown would dance, and its intricate details would captivate onlookers, ensuring Elizabeth's presence was nothing short of magnificent.

"You look enchanting, my dear," Lady Matlock exclaimed when she saw it. "I had the Darcy emeralds in mind when we chose this fabric, and I must admit you are correct, Madeline, that the green silk was the perfect foil for Elizabeth's beauty. I liked the blue, but it would have been better suited to a blonde, and with Elizabeth's dark hair, the green is perfect. Elizabeth, if Fitzwilliam has not already shown you the Darcy jewels, insist he show you. It did not occur to me to say anything before, so I hope they are not at Pemberley."

"He has shown me a few of the jewels, and knowing that I would make my debut in society this season, he arranged to bring several items from the collection to Town. I believe one of his errands this week is to go to the bank to obtain some of the ones stored there," Elizabeth replied.

Lady Matlock nodded her approval, and once again, Elizabeth was taken back to be prodded and pinned.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she was helped back into the dress she had worn on her arrival, and it was time to depart. To her surprise, her husband was waiting in the front with the other ladies of their party.

It took great restraint on both their parts not to embrace the other. Since their marriage at Pemberley, they had only been apart for an hour or two at a time. Neither cared for this separation of almost six hours, and Elizabeth was pleased that Darcy had decided to meet them. Despite their wish to be alone, Lady Matlock informed them they still had one or two stops to make.

One of those stops was to a tea shop next door. Elizabeth had insisted upon it; she was tired and needed refreshment after the hours of fittings. Since the party was large, they were spread across two tables; the Darcys sat with Jane and Anne, while Mary and Georgiana sat with their aunts.

Both tables were interrupted several times. Darcy's marriage had been announced just after the new year, and Lord and Lady Matlock had fielded many questions about why their nephew was not in town. Each time, these inquiries were met with the information that the new couple were honeymooning at Pemberley and would arrive in March for a portion of the Season. Darcy's dislike of the Season was well-known, so most were unsurprised that he would stay away as long as his aunt permitted. However, a few chose to believe this was because he had been trapped in an unwanted marriage and that he was ashamed to bring his wife to town.

Most of those who greeted the Matlock and Darcy party at the teashop were of the former variety. These were greeted pleasantly, with Darcy or Lady Matlock offering introductions to the rest of their party and a few minutes of conversation following. When those of the latter approached, their greetings were shorter.

One of those in the latter category was Lady Penelope Harrington, who had believed herself to be a candidate for Mrs. Darcy after he danced with her once at a ball. That he only danced with her because he could not extricate himself without offending a friend of his mother's or that he did not speak to her at all during their set completely escaped the lady.

"Mr. Darcy," she cooed in a voice that grated his nerves, "how lovely it is to see you again. And which of these … ladies, is your new wife?"

Her pause before 'ladies' set Darcy's teeth on edge, and reluctantly, he stood as politeness dictated. Elizabeth stood with him. "Lady Penelope, allow me to introduce you to my wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy." As he spoke, he took Elizabeth's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it in a lingering fashion, intending to make it clear that his wife was his choice.

The lady scowled at his action. "I would have thought it was this one," she said, indicating Jane. "She is lovely, although I hear your bride was quite poor. I expected her to be a beauty, but you have chosen … for other reasons, I suppose."

Both Anne and Jane gasped at her words, though Elizabeth trilled a happy laugh, completely disarming her opponent, for opponent she clearly was.

"Yes, I believe Mr. Darcy selected me for reasons other than wealth, beauty, or connections. He chose for a far more lasting reason, as all those can disappear as easily as they appear. Instead, he chose me for love and for the fact that he wanted a woman who was his equal in every way. I love him dearly, nearly as much as he loves me, and we are very happy."

Lady Penelope scowled deeper, but before she could speak, Mr. Darcy interjected. "Not my equal, my darling Elizabeth, but my superior, in every way imaginable. I chose my wife, Lady Penelope, because she is perfect for me, and I could never have married for any other reason. Now, if you will excuse us, we should return to our party."

And with that, he helped Elizabeth to sit and turned his shoulders so his back was toward the angry woman. Lady Matlock caught her eye, and before Lady Penelope could so much as huff at his dismissal, she indicated that the lady should leave. While Lady Matlock was, perhaps, not as influential as one of the patronesses of Almacks, she did have considerable influence with those ladies, and many others. To be cut by Lady Matlock would cause significant damage to one's reputation, and Lady Penelope could not endure that.