The dining hall was lavishly decorated, the long tables arranged in rows facing toward the door with the main table slightly elevated lengthwise before the far wall. The Darcys were seated at the main table with Sir Cole, the Matlocks, the Vernors, Sir Arthur Levings of Parwich Hall, Lord and Lady Newburgh of Hassop Hall, Sir James and Lady Harpur of Calke Abbey, and numerous others whom Lizzy had not yet met.
Lizzy sat diagonally across from her husband and between Lady Harpur and a man introduced to her as the Marquis of Orman. Lord Orman was a handsome man perhaps a year or two older than Darcy, unmarried and charming. Lady Harpur said little, whether from shyness or lack of interest in her dinner companions Lizzy could not discern. Darcy was flanked by Sir James Harpur and Mrs. Mary Vernor. Within earshot sat Lord and Lady Matlock and the remaining Vernors.
Dinner was spectacular. Conversation and laughter flowed. Lord Orman was engaging, thankfully for Lizzy, as Lady Harpur said barely two words. Darcy spoke primarily with Sir James and Mr. Vernor, joining in with Lizzy and Lord Orman on occasion.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Lord Orman said, “I understand you are from Hertfordshire?”
“Yes, My Lord, you have heard correctly. Are you familiar with the region?”
“Not much, I confess. I have traveled through on my way to London; however, I have not tarried in the area. Do you miss your home?”
Lizzy smiled. “I miss my family somewhat, but Pemberley and Derbyshire are my home.”
“Of course. Forgive me, Mrs. Darcy, I meant no offense.”
“None taken.”
“Did you leave a large family behind?”
“Four sisters and my parents, as well as cousins. Fortunately, Meryton is not a great distance, and it is the lot of us women eventually to leave our parents for our new families. I am content.” Lizzy glanced at Darcy, who was apparently absorbed in his plate, but she noted the tiny crease between his brows and well knew what it signified.
“Of course.” Lord Orman continued. “Still, it must be difficult to leave what you have always known for the unknown.”
“You would be mistaken, My Lord. It has not been difficult in the slightest. I am exceedingly comfortable here. The scenery and natural formations are widely diverse and majestic here in Derbyshire. Far more so than Hertfordshire, which is pastoral. Unfortunately the weather has not been kind enough to allow me the opportunity to explore as I would wish; however, this will be remedied in the spring.”
“Do you appreciate the out of doors then, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Oh yes, very much.”
“You ride, I presume.”
“Actually, not at all. I prefer to walk.”
He was taken aback, “How odd. A Darcy who does not ride. Who would have believed it? I would rather have imagined horsemanship a prerequisite for matrimony amongst the Darcys.” He seemed to be teasing but Lizzy found the comment a trifle rude. Apparently, her husband did as well.
“I fear you are hasty, Orman, in forming assumptions regarding the character of the Darcys.” He spoke softly but with an edge that Lizzy recognized as irritation and his eyes were a flinty blue. “A person’s caliber is not dependent on a particular accomplishment, nor can a host of accomplishments accurately illustrate one’s quality.”
It was a true statement voiced in a flat tone, but Lizzy, who knew her husband so well, understood he was casting aspersions. Orman knew it also, and there was a moment of silence before he laughed, “Touché, Darcy.”
The conversation turned then to topics more general. The men spoke of politics and the resolving crisis with France. Lizzy struck up a conversation with Mrs. Vernor and Mrs. Samantha Cole, a woman in her late twenties and the wife of the middle Cole son, Joshua. Mrs. Cole reminded Lizzy of her younger sisters, giddy and not terribly bright but humorous and entertaining. Her favorite topics were fashion and society gossip, of little interest to Lizzy; however, she did realize that a fair amount of knowledge on both subjects could be to her advantage so she joined in. She and Mrs. Vernor shared several amused glances, but Mrs. Cole’s insipid chatter did pass the time pleasantly and, oddly enough, Lizzy did like her.
As they stood to leave the table, Lord Orman leaned close to Lizzy and said softly, “I hope I did not offend, Mrs. Darcy. You appear an intelligent young woman and I enjoyed our conversation. I would like to be counted a friend.”
Lizzy was terribly uncomfortable and momentarily at a loss. Darcy, she noted quickly, was on the other side of the table speaking with his aunt, apparently unaware of Lord Orman’s attention. Lizzy took a step backwards, smiled pleasantly, and met his eyes frankly. “Thank you for the compliment, Lord Orman. I can assure you that whomever my husband counts as a friend is also a friend of mine. As I am a new inhabitant of the area, I am leaving these decisions to him. It is far too easy to arrive at swift and errant judgments.”
Lord Orman bowed and retreated slightly but continued undeterred, “Would I be too bold to ask if I may secure your hand for a dance set, Mrs. Darcy? Or does Mr. Darcy make those decisions for you as well?”
Lizzy was stunned, a ready retort on her lips, but they were both startled by Darcy’s deep voice. “Mrs. Darcy is free to fill her dance card with whomever she chooses.” He stood next to her, towering over Orman by at least five inches, calm, and impassively gazing at the Marquis as he offered his arm to Lizzy.
Lizzy smiled brightly at her husband as she placed her hand on his arm, and then turned to Orman. “Thank you, Lord Orman; however, all dances are promised to my husband, by my choice.” She curtseyed and he bowed.
“Perhaps another time then, Mrs. Darcy. Mr. Darcy.” He bowed again and moved away.
“Interesting man,” Lizzy commented sardonically.
“He is a scoundrel, Elizabeth. I cannot fathom what Sir Cole was thinking to seat him at the head table, and close to me. He knows we despise each other.”
“As bad as all that?” She said with an arch smile. “You must fill me in, William! I am becoming quite enamored with the local gossip.”
He looked at her in shock and then, seeing a feigned vapid expression on her face, he laughed. “Perhaps, darling, you should steer clear of Mrs. Cole and her cronies for the remainder of the evening. They are corrupting your good sense.”
To their heightened amusement, Lady Matlock and Harriet Vernor approached at precisely that moment to steal Elizabeth away with the express intent of introducing her to more of the married ladies of the region. Darcy relented only after his aunt promised to be cautious. “Fret not, William, I shall take care of her.”
They had re-entered the ballroom. The orchestra played softly in the background as the two enormous and absurdly ornate Twelfth Night cakes were wheeled in. Harriet explained, “One cake is for the women and the other for the men. Pieces are cut, and the man and woman who receive a piece with the bean in it are crowned King and Queen for the night. It is all silly fun.”
As the pieces were cut and distributed to those who wished to partake, Darcy not surprisingly refusing as he had every year he attended, Harriet and Lady Matlock escorted Lizzy about the room. There were an abundance of women roughly Lizzy’s age or a bit older who welcomed her graciously. Mrs. Samantha Cole fawned over her as if they were old friends, proudly presenting Lizzy to her sister-in-law Mrs. Katherine Cole and soon-to-be sister-in-law Miss Laura Creswell. There was the usual gushing over the dress and brooch and hair, intermingled with cunningly worded inquiries as to how she and Mr. Darcy had met, the wedding details, her family connections, and so on. Lizzy had a marvelous time.