Excentryke's Musings

Title: At the Request of Georgiana
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandom(s): Bridgerton / Pride & Prejudice
Pairings: Darcy/Eloise, Daphne/Hastings

Rating: PG
Word Count: 11k

Warning(s): society, second sons, elopements, ruined reputations, Georgiana finds her voice
Summary: “No, please,” Georgiana begged as she looked up at Darcy with green eyes after meeting Elizabeth Bennet.  “She is the lady Richard spoke about, is she not? The one you meant to marry? Please don’t marry her.”

I.

“No, please,” Georgiana begged as she looked up at Darcy with green eyes.  Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Darcy could hear her quite clearly.  “She is the lady Richard spoke about, is she not?”  Georgiana turned again toward the pianoforte, “the one you meant to marry?  Please don’t marry her.”

Darcy was stunned.  Georgiana had barely strung a sentence together since her intended elopement with Wickham the previous summer at Ramsgate, and now she had spoken three sentences.  The content left much to be desired, but certainly merited discussion.  Fully turning from the window, Darcy asked, “Do you dislike Miss Bennet so much?”

“She laughs,” Georgiana tried to explain, fidgeting slightly with her left hand.  “I do not care for her laughter.”

It was true, Elizabeth Bennet laughed.  Darcy had thought she only made sport with him. 

“Has she,” Darcy asked carefully.  “Has she offended you, sister?”

Georgiana hesitated.  “I heard her laugh at Bingley.  It was unkind.”  She turned back toward Darcy, her verdant gaze wide and imploring.  “Does she always take such imprudent liberties?”

“I had not known she was unkind,” Darcy admitted, though that was not exactly true.  There had been a certain unkindness to Elizabeth’s laughter at Rosings the previous Easter.  However, Georgiana, now that she had spoken, seemed to have found her voice—

“I know that you feel keenly that I do not have a sister, that you wish to give me that.  If Anne were in better health, you would have married her years ago simply out of duty to me and to Lady Catherine, but she is clearly unsuitable.  I do not know why your mind turned to Miss Bennet, and I will never ask you, Brother, but if it is simply for my sake, I ask that you do not marry her.  It would bring me more pain than happiness.”  Her gaze flicked up to his green eyes that mirrored hers in color.  “I would not ask you to forsake your own happiness.”

“No, Georgiana,” he lied.  “I would not be forsaking my own happiness.”

A slight tension, that always seemed to be present in her shoulders, seemed to ease somewhat.  “I am glad.”  Georgiana seemed to hesitate, but then she walked up to him and took his hands in her small ones.  “I am glad, too, that your mind has never turned to Caroline Bingley.”

“No,” Darcy agreed with a small smile.  “Caroline Bingley would bring neither of us felicity.”

Georgiana seemed to be debating a thought, and Darcy dipped his head so as to look into her green gaze.

“What is it?”

“It is only, I know whom you should wed.”

“Do you?” he asked with all due seriousness.  “Is she among your companions in London?”

“You do not believe me,” Georgiana sighed, her voice becoming as quiet as a whisper again, now that it had gained some strength.

“No, sister,” Darcy assured her, escorting her away from the window and toward the couches.  “It is only, there are so few ladies who are of your acquaintance.  I merely wonder who the lady would be.”

Georgiana hesitated.  “The lady does not lack accomplishments, but she does not care to display them.  She is the second eldest sister of the Viscount Bridgerton—Eloise.”  She reached for a book and pulled out a letter.  “You remember I told you of Lady Whistledown?  Eloise has been tasked by Her Majesty the Queen to unmask the lady and has been corresponding with me on the subject since we arrived a week hence.  It appears that Lady Whistledown just learned about Lord Berbrooke and now Eloise believes it to be a servant.  It is most diverting.”

Darcy stared at his sister.  He had not seen her so animated in well over a year. 

Taking the letter, he opened it and began to read it over.  Miss Eloise Bridgerton certainly had a flair for description and, incidentally, a most elegant hand. 

“Does Miss Eloise have other suitors?  And what of her elder sister, Miss Bridgerton?  Is she married or is she still a debutante?”

Georgiana’s green eyes lit up.  She angled the letter toward her, which was still in Darcy’s hand, and pointed to a particular line.  Darcy looked closer.  It seemed that someone named Daphne had had a brief and unfortunate engagement with Lord Berbrooke but that was now at an end. 

“Daphne is this year’s incomparable.”

Darcy looked up at his sister.

“Daphne is the eldest Miss Bridgerton.”

Darcy nodded knowledgably.  He was well aware from conversations at White’s about the Queen’s yearly choice of an incomparable and how desirable the position was.  If Miss Daphne Bridgerton was this year’s incomparable, she was only just out on the marriage mart, meaning that Miss Eloise was most likely not out in society.

“You are only just sixteen, Georgiana,” Darcy reminded his sister.  “How old is Miss Eloise?”

“She is seventeen years of age.”  The brother and sister exchanged a look.  Although not yet quite presented to society, she was well able to marry. 

“And Miss Eloise, you believe, will add not only to your happiness as your sister, but will add to my felicity as my wife?”

“Undoubtedly,” Georgiana promised, accepting the letter back.  “You hate ladies of society and Eloise hates being a lady in society.  She would far rather attend a political lecture than a ball.”

“She is a radical then?”

“Eloise is trusted by Queen Charlotte with an important commission!  That should tell you everything!”  Georgiana took a deep breath.  In that moment she looked so much like their mother, the Lady Anne Darcy, with her dark curls and delicate features.  “I think I even saw her smoke a cigarette once.”  Her eyes flicked toward him quickly, as if she knew this would intrigue him.  “She hardly cares for an estate such as Pemberley.  She told me once she would probably live her life out at Aubrey Hall, ignoring all her nephews and nieces.”

Darcy sat back considering.  “How do you propose I meet the lady?”

Georgiana sat there, holding the letter, thinking.  “Perhaps we should go to London before the end of the season and I can invite her to tea.  You can become acquainted with her, and when she is presented, you will simply have to court her.—or you can try to court her now.”

“We cannot abandon the Bingleys,” Darcy told her firmly.

“Whyever not?  Plans change.  We simply have family business in London.”  Her eyes glittered, in a way that they had not since she was a small child.  “And is that not so?  Do I not need a sister?  There are only three weeks left to the season.  We can surely leave them here for that long.”

Darcy was slightly hesitant.  It was only yesterday that he had introduced Elizabeth to his sister Georgiana with hopes of once again proposing to the lady—but Georgiana and her happiness meant everything to him.  If she did not wish him to marry Elizabeth, and she certainly had given a reason, then he would not pursue the matter.  Could he go and pursue a London miss on his sister’s say so?  Could he order his heart on the orders of another?  However, looking at Georgiana, she looked so hopeful.

If he did not like the lady, he could simply return to Pemberley.

And nothing ventured was nothing gained.

“This is not a promise,” Darcy stated.  “I am not saying I shall marry your friend.”

“No,” Georgiana breathed.  “Of course not!”  She smiled, a small private smile, but it gave Darcy hope for Georgiana’s future happiness. 

All that was left to be done was to order their trunks packed, to order the horses, and inform Bingley.  Their regrets could be conveyed through Bingley when Elizabeth and the Gardiners came to tea on the morrow.  He and Georgiana would already be well on their way to London, leaving at first light.

II.

Eloise was pleased to receive a note from Georgiana that Sunday after church.  She had thought that her friend was going up to Derbyshire for the rest of the summer, but it seemed she had returned on a small matter of family business, and would Eloise like to come to tea on the morrow?

“Mama?” she asked as she came into the drawing room.  “Georgiana Darcy has returned to Town.  May I go tomorrow for tea?”

“Take your maid,” Anthony told her, giving her permission before their mother could speak.  “Mother is needed to chaperone Daphne and her callers.”

Mama looked over from where she was pouring herself a dish of tea.  “I thought Miss Darcy was going to Derbyshire.”

“She’s returned for the rest of the season.”

“But is she not yet out?”  This was Daphne.

“Not out,” Eloise agreed.  “She did not exactly say the reason.  She is to go to Pemberley in August.”

Daphne looked pensive but didn’t say anything else.  It was decided.

Eloise was allowed the carriage the next day and she presented herself during calling hours, not expecting anything out of the ordinary.  Mrs. Ainsley was present, as she always was, and Georgiana was pleased to see her. 

“Yes, I was there for but two full days,” she told Eloise, offering cakes.  “I asked Fitzwilliam to bring me back.”

“But surely you were glad to be back at Pemberley,” Eloise noted.  “You were so looking forward to it.”

“There were—circumstances,” Georgiana admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.  “Perhaps I will tell you about them when we are both married and have children.”

“Children?” Eloise asked, shocked.  “Why would I ever have children?”  She took a bite of her cake just as the doors to the drawing room opened.  “No.  I remember when my sister Hyacinth was a squalling baby.  It was quite dreadful.  She was always crying.  Mama was always sad as Papa had just died.  It is not an enviable position.”

Georgiana had ceased paying attention but instead was looking over Eloise’s shoulder.

“Fitzwilliam,” she breathed, and Eloise looked over her shoulder in shock.

A man, a very tall man, with Georgiana’s dark curls and green eyes, was standing in the doorway.  He had also unfortunately heard every word Eloise had just spoken. 

However, he did not show it on his face.

“Ladies,” he greeted, “I hope I do not disturb.”

“Not at all,” Georgiana whispered, her voice pushing through a little.  “Fitzwilliam, this is my friend, Eloise Bridgerton.  Eloise, this is my older brother.”

Eloise tried to smile.  “Charmed.”  She couldn’t have said anything more inane.

For some reason, Darcy stared at her a good long moment, before entering the room.  Eloise followed him with her eyes.  Darcy sat on the far side of the couch his sister occupied and it was only then that Eloise noticed there were four cups with the tea service.  One for her, one for Georgiana, one for Mrs. Ainsley—and one for Mr. Darcy.

Her eyes flashed to Georgiana, but she seemed wholly unrepentant.   

“How is your sister Daphne?”  Georgiana was clearly choosing a neutral subject.  She couldn’t have chosen a worse one.  Eloise hated being compared to her elder sister.

Eloise swallowed.  “Accepting calls.”  Her eyes flitted to Mr. Darcy, wondering if he was the sort of man who would pay calls to her sister.  “There are so many of them, it’s hard to keep track.”

“Any favorites?”

This was definitely a subject Eloise didn’t like.  She placed her dish of tea to the side.  “If Mama is to believed, the Duke of Hastings, but Daphne won’t say anything.”

“I remember Basset—I should say, ‘Hastings,’—from Cambridge,” Darcy admitted, entering the conversation.  “He was a gambler.”

Eloise wasn’t entirely certain what to do with this information.  “Isn’t that what men do?” she asked.  “Play cards and bet on horses?”

“Not all men,” Darcy told her sternly.  It seemed he disapproved.  He wouldn’t approve of any of Eloise’s brothers, then.

She cleared her throat and looked over at Georgiana who was regarding her brother with interest.  “Did he have any good qualities?”

“He wasn’t much of a scholar,” Darcy told her.  “I remember he was always with Bridgerton, your eldest brother.”

Well, that only made sense.  They did have the Duke of Hastings to dinner before he was a suitor for Daphne’s hand.  It must have been because he knew Anthony. 

“I haven’t much conversed with the Duke,” Eloise admitted.  “What would he have to say to me?”

Darcy seemed to have been waiting for this question.  “He could always ask you what you thought of the latest Mrs. Radcliffe novel.”

“Well,” Eloise stated, certain not to square her shoulders so as not to appear antagonistic, “that would assume the Duke of Hastings reads Mrs. Radcliffe novels.  I would presume he does not.”

“Any man entering the season would read Mrs. Radcliffe novels so as to have a topic of conversation.”

“He would not choose poetry?” she inquired with a smile.

“That would assume his dancing partner was well read, and poetry is meant for love making.  A first dance is never a lover’s conversation.”

This surprised Eloise.  “I suppose it is more of a gentleman’s handshake.”

“I suppose it is,” he agreed, a light brightening in his verdant gaze.  “But a gentleman’s handshake is between equals.”

“Two gentlemen are not necessarily equal,” Eloise parried back.  “You are assuming too much about the participants.  A man and a woman on a dancefloor, however, very well may be equals.  The woman may even be superior to the man.”

“Do you think yourself superior to men?”

“Men or a man?  Which man in particular?”  Eloise was enjoying herself now, leaning forward even.  “I steal my brother Anthony’s horse.  Do I think myself superior to him or am I simply a wayward sister?”

“You forget I know the Viscount Bridgerton.”

“Then you know he gambles and bets on horses.  As you know, I am a woman and can do neither.  Perhaps you already think I am superior to some men.”  She looked over at Georgiana to see she was closely regarding them.  What exactly was she planning?  Eloise had never taken Georgiana to be calculating before, but she may have misjudged her friend.

“Your mama must be dreading when you come out to society,” Darcy observed.

“She is too busy thinking on Daphne and the Duke of Hastings,” Eloise admitted.  “I’m sure she believes I shall be a triumph as my sister is.”  She leaned back and took Darcy in from where he was sitting.  He really was quite tall, but then again, so was Georgiana for a girl her age. 

The clock chimed the hour, echoing in the room.

Eloise let it sound out the hour.

“I’m afraid that means Mama will be wondering where I’ve gone.  I would hate for her to have to send a footman after me.”

Georgiana stood gracefully, Eloise and Darcy joining her.

“Do say you’ll come again,” Georgiana whispered, her voice a little stronger than it had been before.  “I have some new music from Handel that you’ll enjoy singing.  I’m quite certain of it.”

“I would have you come to us but I’m afraid our drawing room is much occupied by suitors and flowers at the moment,” Eloise told her friend, not looking at Darcy.  “Send your card and I’ll be sure to come.”  She curtseyed to both brother and sister. 

Leaving, she was pleased to see that the carriage had already been called, most likely by Mrs. Ainsley. 

When she got in, she turned to Sophie.  “That was planned, wasn’t it?”

“I did see the extra teacup.”

Eloise nodded, thinking.  “Don’t tell Mama just yet.”

“Miss Eloise—”

“I don’t know what Georgiana is scheming.”

Sophie hesitated.

Eloise glanced at her.  “You think she means for her brother to marry?  Why would she choose me?”

“Only Miss Darcy could say.”

“Still,” Eloise tried to coax, “not a word.”

Sophie seemed to consider.  “Only if you wear the violet next time and let me do your hair.  I want to see you at your best advantage.”

“Surely Georgiana will notice.”

“Surely Mr. Darcy will, too.”

This caused Daphne to consider.  “What do you think of him, Sophie?  I know you have opinions.”

Sophie didn’t answer for a full minute.  “Wear the violet,” she bargained, “then I shall tell you.”

Home was much as it always was.  The drawing room was full of flowers and Daphne was not answering Mama’s questions about the Duke of Hastings.  She was, however, to have ices with him the next day.  Eloise would have found it fascinating if she found such things of interest.

Her search for Whistledown continued.

She received Georgiana’s card after a morning with Penelope and hesitated to accept it.  What was Georgiana thinking?  Could it only have been an aberration?  Perhaps she should ask.  Taking out a sheet of writing paper, she thought a moment and then put pen to paper.

III.

Georgiana gave him a letter over the breakfast room table.  It was unusual for friends to correspond when in close proximity to one another, but it seemed Eloise Bridgerton had written a letter to Georgiana even though she was to come to tea later that morning.

Are you planning on serving four dishes of tea and, if so, dearest Georgiana, I must wonder at your purpose?

“She is not stupid,” Darcy noted, “She also has not gone and told her brother, the Viscount Bridgerton.”

“No,” Georgiana whispered.  “She wouldn’t do that without consulting me first.”  She took the letter back. 

“Should you like me not to join you this afternoon?” he questioned gently.  “You, after all, wish for Eloise to be my wife.”

“I do wish for Eloise to be the next Mrs. Darcy,” Georgiana murmured.  “Do you like her?”

“I find her to be an engaging young woman.”  She did not flatter.  She did prevaricate.  She did not blush.  She also did not goad or tease him.  She was simply a young woman who was not looking for a husband.  “I do not find fault with her.”

“That is not the same as liking her.”

“No, it is not,” Darcy agreed carefully.  “I do not know your Miss Bridgerton well enough.”

Georgiana thought a moment.  “If music be the food of love, then you shall hear her sing.  She will come to tea, and then we will perform.  You shall come when you hear the pianoforte.  I will send Mrs. Ainsley if you should not come.”

“If that is your wish.”  Darcy would bow to Georgiana’s wishes, even if he was still heartsick for Elizabeth Bennet.  However, she was lost to him now.  That was plain for him to see, and he must mend his heart and continue on with his life.

He finished his breakfast and withdrew to the library.

He was aware of when Miss Bridgerton arrived for tea.  He was looking on from a window. 

Eloise Bridgerton was slight with dark hair and blue eyes.  She was wearing violet that morning with a pink blusher.  It brought out the blue of her eyes.  He could almost say she was pretty in the correct light.  She was so different from the vivacious Elizabeth Bennet with her honey blonde hair and sky blue eyes that darted about in mischief, but that was almost a blessing.  He would not wish to be considering marrying Elizabeth Bennet’s copy.  Best to break from her altogether.

Mrs. Ainsley never came and when he heard the pianoforte, he slipped into the drawing room, accepting a dish of tea that Mrs. Ainsley prepared for him. 

Georgiana was always accomplished on the pianoforte.  Her technical skill was unparalleled and her breadth of feeling was indescribable for one so young.  Eloise Bridgerton stood just to the left of the piano and sang the haunting soprano line as if she had known it all her life and hadn’t learned it just a few minutes before.  Her voice was pure, bell like, and unblemished.  Darcy’s breath caught in his throat.  He had never heard anyone as accomplished as Eloise Bridgerton.

At the end of the piece, Georgiana looked up and glanced at Darcy knowingly.

She had been fully anticipating his reaction. 

Eloise, in contrast, held the final note and then broke into a full grin, turning to Georgiana and pointing to something in the score. 

Eloise Bridgerton was simply enchanting and clearly unaware of her power.

Georgiana stood and led her friend over to the couches and Mrs. Ainsley poured them each a dish of tea, and Georgiana looked over at her friend.  “Brava!” she murmured, clearly pleased.  “I knew Mozart would be perfect for you.  I am never wrong.”

“No, you were not,” Eloise agreed, her blue eyes flashing in amusement.  “I had not given him enough credit.”

“What do you think, Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana asked, turning toward him.

Darcy was not caught off guard.  “I believe Mozart wrote with Miss Bridgerton in mind.  It is clearly apparent.”  He nodded his head toward her.  “Simply masterful, Miss Bridgerton.  I applaud you and your accompanist.”

Eloise did not blush.  Instead, she looked right into Darcy’s eye as if looking for a lie.  Not finding one, she looked away.  “We must try Bach next time,” she suggested to Georgiana.  “Or Haydn, though they are so dissimilar.”

“Haydn,” Georgiana whispered with a decidedness that was unlike her.  “You would sound beautiful singing Haydn.”

“We must be singing all of these German composers because of Prince Frederick,” Eloise surmised, turning slightly to include Darcy in the conversation.  “You have read of his arrival in Whistledown?”

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed.  “If Whistledown is correct, Queen Charlotte means for him to find a bride.”

Eloise blithely looked back at him.  “I do not ascribe all men with the intention of finding a bride.  There can be discourse between the sexes without matrimony being the object.”  She looked the perfect part of childlike innocence in her violet gown with a bow in her hair, pink gloves on her hands.  However, a woman hid underneath and Darcy could see that plain as day, and the Viscount Bridgerton would be a fool not to realize it as well.

“You think men and women can just be friends?”

“I have observed such friendships.”

Darcy felt like he was setting a trap for her.  “Name one and I will take you and Georgiana out in the phaeton.”

“We do not need to go out in the phaeton,” Eloise demurred, glancing at Georgiana.

“You prevaricate.”

Her eyes snapped back to his.  “Well, if you must know, my brother and Penelope Featherington are correspondents.  Colin is away in Greece and I know she writes to him every week.”

Darcy set down his dish of tea and smiled slightly to himself.  “I daresay Miss Featherington is in love with your brother Colin.”

“I daresay not.”

“She would never admit it.”

“If she would never admit it, as you say, you cannot lose your point,” Eloise pointed out.  “I am her dearest friend.”

“And your dearest friend is Georgiana,” Darcy pointed out politely.  “It is an unequal friendship, the more unequal as Mr. Bridgerton is your brother.”

Eloise was quiet for a moment.  “She is my closest neighbor.  I have known Penelope since we were children.”

“That is not the same.  I daresay you would admit confidences to Georgiana you would not confess to Penelope, and so would be the same for her.  She would certainly not admit that she had hopes for your own brother.  However, she betrays herself with her behavior.”

“I do not believe—”

“Would you write to me at Pemberley should I ask?”

Eloise looked shocked.

“I prove my point.  However, we digress.  Prince Frederick has arrived on our shores.  I wonder if any of us shall see him since none of us move in society, myself by choice, and you and Georgiana due to your age.”

“No, I do not suppose we will see him,” Georgiana murmured, “unless we take out the phaeton and he is to promenade.”

Eloise looked over at her friend before returning her attention to Darcy.  “I do not believe Anthony would approve.”

“Then I shall write to him and seek his approval for the next time you two ladies choose to take tea.”  He glanced over at his sister who seemed pleased.  He stood and bowed formally to the ladies before quitting the room.

He went to his study, but he stood at the window, looking down over the street. 

Eloise Bridgerton stayed another three quarters of an hour, but Darcy watched her as she left with her maid.  She allowed a footman to help her into her carriage, but she looked back at the house for a moment before dipping inside.  The more he thought about it, the more Darcy thought she looked charming in the violet. 

At dinner that night, Georgiana asked, “Well?”

“She sings beautifully,” Darcy conceded.

“Better than other ladies of your acquaintance?”

Darcy looked over at his sister who was smiling to herself.  He hadn’t seen her so self-satisfied in well over a year.  He was pleased with this development. 

“You know that is the truth, sister.  She is a veritable songbird.”

She patted her mouth with her napkin.  “The question is whether or not music is the way to your heart.”

“The question is not whether or not music is the food of love for me, dear sister, but what proves the food of love for Miss Bridgerton.”

Her green eyes lit up.  “You are of a mind with me?”

“She did not flee after she wrote you that letter and you spoke to her.”

“No, she did not flee,” Georgiana agreed.  “It is not like Eloise to flee.  She thinks it is a peculiar notion that I have put in my head and has decided that she need not pay it any mind.”

“Then why does she speak to me?” Darcy questioned her.

“Because I’ve put the idea in her head,” Georgiana surmised, “just like I’ve put it in yours.”  She smiled again to herself.  “My plan is going quite well.”

Yes, Darcy agreed silently to himself.  It was going quite well.

IV.

Eloise lay on her back and stared at the light blue canopy of her bed.  Today she was going back to Darcy House and yesterday Anthony informed her that she had permission to go with the Darcy’s to Regents Park.  She was not entirely certain this was a good idea; however, her heart beat a little faster at the thought of it. 

Darcy certainly was an imposing man.  He was most definitely taller than Benedict, which was astonishing, and his green gaze was piercing.  Whenever they spoke, which had admittedly only been twice, his eyes lit up when he addressed her and he actually listened to her words. 

It also helped that he was handsome. 

Eloise was not blind.  She noticed this about men.  The Duke of Hastings was handsome but she did not care.  She was afraid she might care that Mr. Darcy was handsome with his curly brown hair and brooding good looks.  He looked just like a gentleman should look, which was a fearful thought.  If he was the epitome of what a man should be, with broad shoulders and an aquiline nose and dark brows and broad cheek bones, then what should happen if she should never see him after this season—or if he should marry another?

Georgiana had hinted that she wished for Eloise to be more than just her dearest friend and she could persuade her brother to her way of thinking, but Eloise did not have such power over Anthony or Colin.  How could any sister have such persuasion over an older brother who was a man of the world?  It also seemed as if Mr. Darcy was listening to Georgiana.  He came and accepted the extra dish of tea, speaking to Eloise almost exclusively, listening to her sing. 

He had even looked at her in wonder when she had performed in his presence.  Eloise knew that she had a beautiful voice, but she had nearly struck Mr. Darcy dumb.  Was it possible that he …. No, it did not do to consider such.

Getting up, Eloise slouched and waited for Sophie to come in with her morning dish of tea.  They had decided on the dark blue for this morning with the white blusher and pale blue and lace bow in her hair.  She would wear her white pelisse.  Sophie did not think it as fetching as the violet, but she could not wear the same color twice in a row (at least according to Sophie and, of course, Mama, should anyone ask her).

The Darcy’s came at half past ten to pick her up in the phaeton.  Eloise would never admit she was waiting at the window, but Mr. Darcy escorted his sister into the drawing room where Daphne was holding court. 

Daphne looked up and looked interested.  Eloise’s stomach immediately turned.

“Georgiana, Mr. Darcy,” she greeted.  “You remember Mama.”

Her mother, the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, greeted them and offered them tea, but Mr. Darcy demurred and immediately claimed Eloise.  Georgiana looked a little fearful of the small crowd in the room.  Accepting Mr. Darcy’s other arm, Eloise turned to say farewell to her mama when she saw that Daphne was definitely noticing Mr. Darcy.  Her stomach dropped.

“Miss Bridgerton?” Mr. Darcy inquired.

She turned to him and smiled.  He was looking into her eyes and not in Daphne’s direction.  “I am quite ready, Mr. Darcy,” she promised and allowed him to lead her out.

The air outside was fresh and she allowed Mr. Darcy to hand her in.  She faced forward with Georgiana beside her and smiled.  Georgiana took her arm.

“I should so hate for my house to be overridden,” Georgiana murmured.

“It is quite a trial,” Eloise agreed.  “I’m waiting for the Duke of Hastings to propose so it can all end.”

“Surely with the season will come visitors whether or not Miss Bridgerton is engaged,” Mr. Darcy noted, as the phaeton rolled away from the house.

“Oh, of course,” Eloise agreed.  “However, it wasn’t half so bad when only Anthony, Benedict, and Colin were in society.  We weren’t overrun.”

“I’m sure Colonel Fitzwilliam and I both look forward to the time when Georgiana is presented to Her Majesty the Queen,” Mr. Darcy noted.

Georgiana’s eyes widened.

“That isn’t for some years yet,” he promised his younger sister.

“And I shall be there,” Eloise promised, “chasing away all your suitors if you should so desire.  I haven’t chased away any of Daphne’s, but I haven’t tried.”  She smiled at Georgiana who offered a small smile in return.

“The Colonel and I shall quite despair when Miss Bridgerton is in the room,” Darcy sighed, taking in Eloise fully as he sat across from her.  “However, I am sure by then she shall be married herself.”

“Do not say such things, sir!” Eloise begged.  “I should not know what to do with myself in the married state!”

“I’m sure your mama will tell you,” Darcy promised her with a glint in his eye.  “That is, after all, what mamas are for.”

Eloise thoughts slid to Georgiana who did not have a mama.  Her eyes flitted to her friend, but she seemed unconcerned.  Flicking her eyes back to Darcy, she found him as annoying as Benedict in that moment, but she could not refute him because she knew he was correct in his assumptions.  Part of a mother’s function was to prepare her daughters not only for society but for marriage.

Turning to Georgiana she asked, “Do you favor the Lady Anne Darcy or your father?”  Both siblings were quite tall with curling brown hair and piercing green eyes. 

“Mama,” Georgiana murmured.  “We have her portrait at Pemberley.”

“If you ever move it to London, you must show it to me.”

“You suppose,” Mr. Darcy inserted, “that you shall never be a guest at Pemberley or more intimately acquainted with the estate.”

“I would not presume,” Eloise pressed, “although I am certain Pemberley is a fine house.”  Her blue eyes flashed at Mr. Darcy in a question.  Was he really following his sister’s suggestion?  Was it his own preference?

“You could come in August,” Mr. Darcy suggested carefully, “once the season is finished.  I’m certain Georgiana would love to have a friend.”

“The Bingleys are our guests,” Georgiana murmured.

“Who are the Bingleys?”

“Bingley was with your brother and I at Cambridge,” Mr. Darcy informed her.  “His two sisters, and Mrs. Hurst’s husband, are also our guests.  You would certainly add to our house party.  I know Georgiana would appreciate your company.”

Eloise considered Mr. Darcy for a long moment.  The invitation certainly came from him and was not only for Georgiana’s benefit.  “It is too soon to make plans,” she decided slowly, “and I would certainly have to ask Mama and Anthony.”

“I shall write to Bridgerton while you consider, and you shall of course wish to discuss it with Georgiana,” Mr. Darcy promised.  “Your brother’s estate is in Hampshire, I believe.”

“Indeed.  Aubrey Hall is quite beautiful.”

“I have no doubt.”  Mr. Darcy looked between Eloise and Georgiana, seeming quite pleased with what he saw.  “—Georgiana returns to Bath with Mrs. Ainsley in September.”

Francesca was currently in Bath.  Eloise would certainly have to write her sister and introduce her friend to her although she believed they were marginally acquainted.

“And where shall you go, Mr. Darcy?” Eloise inquired.

“I shall go to Hertfordshire with Bingley to his estate.  He is renting a property there and he is still deciding if he wishes to purchase one of his own.”

Bingley, then, did not have property of his own—perhaps he was a younger son.  This was certainly an interesting development.  The Bridgertons were not snobs but they certainly moved within their own circles.

“—unless,” Darcy continued, “I have reason to change my plans.”  He caught her gaze, green to blue, and Eloise understood his meaning.

She glanced at Georgiana and saw that she comprehended his meaning as well.  He would have reason to change his plans if he found he had a young wife.  If that were the case, he would not wish to go to a friend’s estate, but instead would most likely wish to remain at Pemberley.

Eloise looked out past her friend and saw that they were far into Regents Park.  She was so deep into conversation, she hadn’t even noticed.

V.

“You have decided then,” Georgiana murmured after dinner was served.  “You have decided for Eloise.”

“Yes, sister, I have.”  Darcy took a bite of his ham.  “You were quite correct in your assessment.  I think she will add much to both of our happiness.”

Georgiana smiled to herself, which pleased Darcy.  The more Darcy pursued Eloise, the more Georgiana came back into herself.  If they continued on this trajectory, by the time he made Eloise his bride, Georgiana would be well on her way to becoming the charming if somewhat quiet girl she had once been.

Darcy’s mind briefly turned to Elizabeth Bennet, and he was quite decided.  He should marry Eloise Bridgerton before September so he would have reason not to return to Hertfordshire.  He did not wish to see Elizabeth again.  Elizabeth had never possessed a good opinion of him, but he did not wish to rub salt in the wound.  Eloise was a fresh start with her startling blue eyes and charming smile.  He would hate to compare the women side by side.  Eloise must surely be superior, he told himself firmly.

He hadn’t expected to see Eloise for several days, but he wrote to the Viscount Bridgerton inviting Eloise to Pemberley for the month of August.  He received a reply that the Viscount was considering it.

Then, on the Friday, Eloise appeared in the drawing room when Georgiana was practicing her scales.

“Georgiana!” she cried to her friend before noticing Mr. Darcy.  “Oh, good day, Mr. Darcy.—Georgiana—Daphne is engaged to the Duke of Hastings and they are to be married on Monday by Special License.  No one will tell me anything.”

Well, it was obvious to Darcy.  Hastings had got tired of Miss Daphne Bridgerton’s many suitors and had obviously compromised her.

Georgiana’s eyes widened.  “Well,” she breathed quietly, “isn’t this what the family wanted?”

“No!” Eloise cried as she flopped down inelegantly on a sofa.  “Yes!  It’s all so confused.”

Darcy stood and pulled the bell.  Eloise would certainly need a dish of tea if not something stronger.

Georgiana came around the piano and came and took her friend’s hand.  “Worry not.  I’m sure all will be well.”

“Of course all will be well,” Eloise agreed wryly.  “Daphne is to be a Duchess.  Prince Frederick wanted to marry her just last night, but no one seems to remember that this morning.”

Yes, Darcy had read something of the sort in Georgiana’s discarded copy of Whistledown.  He wondered how Queen Charlotte would take this new development.  Not well, he surmised.

A footman came and he ordered tea.

Eloise didn’t seem to notice.  She was sitting up and he noticed that she was wearing a rather fetching pink muslin.  It was not so fine as the violet, but the softer shades looked well on Eloise with her dark hair and blue eyes.  He wondered when he had become so sentimental as to notice a lady’s gowns.  He had never noticed what shade or color Elizabeth Bennet was wearing.  He had only noticed her fine eyes.

(Eloise’s eyes were more than fine.  They were startling in their shade of blue.)

When the tea arrived, Eloise was much composed and complaining about lace with Georgiana and Darcy left the ladies to the ladies.  This was a time of friendship that he would not interrupt. 

He went to his study and looked out the window.  Watching when Eloise stepped into the carriage, he noticed that the bow in her hair was a darker shade of pink than her dress.  Darcy would call the color ‘rose.’ 

Eloise turned and looked up back at Darcy House and her eyes searched the windows until they found him and her gaze struck his.  He nodded to her and she nodded back.  An understanding passed between them.

Darcy was content.

VI.

“Should you mind if I married, brother?  I know Daphne married the Duke of Hastings just yesterday, but would you be terribly vexed?”  Eloise had just returned from Darcy House and a slight blush stained her cheeks.  Mr. Darcy had kissed her hand when she had left, and the color had risen in her face unbidden.

Anthony looked up, slightly bemused.  “Whom do you think would marry you, sister?”

“Mr. Darcy.”

His gaze turned sharp.  “Mr. Darcy?  Has he spoken?”

Eloise hesitated.  “Georgiana has implied.  It has been implied that—”

Anthony’s blue eyes flashed.  “Has he been courting you?”

Eloise was uncertain what to say.  “Ask Sophie.”

Slamming his hand down on the arm of his chair, Anthony stood.  Eloise was uncertain if she had ever seen him so angry.  Visibly calming himself, he walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.  “You were right to tell me.”

“Should I have told you sooner?”  Her voice was careful.

“It has been less than a fortnight.”

“True,” Eloise conceded.  She took a deep breath.  “I must say I like the idea.”

“You like the idea of marrying Mr. Darcy?”

“I know he does not have a title,” she admitted carefully.

“Your brothers Benedict and Colin do not have titles,” Anthony pointed out.

Eloise had not exactly considered this.  “He is not a younger son.”

“No, he is not,” Anthony agreed.  “He is a man of great property and wealth with excellent connections.  That does not mean he should have been courting you while you are not yet out.”

Gripping her book in her fingers, Eloise considered.  “Georgiana confessed she put the idea in his head.  Then she put it in mine.”

This did not seem to please Anthony any more than the earlier conversation.  “How old is Miss Darcy?”

“Sixteen, I believe.”

“I would never take your notions for my matrimonial happiness seriously.”

“No,” Eloise agreed, “but you are not Mr. Darcy and I am not Georgiana.”

Anthony rolled his eyes.  “I shall speak to Sophie, sister.”

“Of course,” she agreed carefully.  “Do not be angry with her.”

Anthony made no promises.  He left the room and Eloise found herself very much alone.  She debated whether or not to tell Mama, but she would leave that to Anthony.  She only hoped he would not call Mr. Darcy out.  She had not considered that before she spoke to him.  The thought twisted her stomach.

VII.

Darcy was not expecting the Viscount Bridgerton to appear in his study unannounced; he was also not expecting him angry.  To the Viscount’s credit, although clearly angered, he was nonetheless composed.  He accepted a brandy and took a seat across from Darcy, regarding him for several long moments.

“I take it this does not have to do with our invitation to Pemberley.”

“We may come to that,” Bridgerton told him carefully, still regarding him.  “I hear you might mean to marry Eloise.”

“Did she or her maid tell you?”

“Eloise told me Miss Darcy suggested the scheme.  Her maid told me you were actively pursuing her.  Do I need to call you out?”  He finished his brandy and set the glass down with a sense of finality. 

“It is true I have engaged Miss Bridgerton in conversation in my sister’s presence, along with Mrs. Ainsley and your sister’s maid also being in attendance.  I also mean to marry her when she gets used to the idea.”

Bridgerton just stared at him. 

“Do you always do what your sister tells you to do?”

“No,” Darcy denied.  “Not usually.”

“You say you have behaved honorably, and I’ll believe you because we’ve known each other for over a decade and I’ve always known you to be honorable.  However, it concerns me that you are acting on your sixteen-year-old sister’s initiative.”

Darcy waved his hand in negation.  “Georgiana introduced me to Miss Bridgerton and reminded me that Miss Bridgerton was her dearest friend.  My decision to pursue her has been entirely my own.”  He looked Bridgerton dead in the eye.  “This is not a child’s fancy,” although that was entirely untrue.

“I had not meant,” Bridgerton confessed, “for Eloise to marry so shortly after Daphne.”

“Then I have your consent,” Darcy checked.

“I am not withholding it,” Bridgerton amended.  “Eloise is still very young.  Even if she joins your house party and you were to make your addresses, I could not say for certain that she would accept them.”

“Would you prefer that I ask her before then?”  That didn’t give Darcy much time, but he was willing to bend on this point.  This would give him an August wedding, which had certain advantages. 

Bridgerton hesitated and looked out the study window.  “If that is not too much of an inconvenience.  I should like this matter settled.”  He returned his blue eyes to Darcy.  “You have a little over a week.”

“I shall endeavor to use that time wisely,” Darcy promised.  Standing, he shook Bridgerton’s hand.  He remembered what Eloise had said about a gentleman’s handshake and he almost smiled. 

Looking him over, Bridgerton nodded once.  He was about to go when Darcy called him back.

“My great uncle is the Marquis of Ashmoure and is in poor health,” Darcy related solemnly.  “I am his nearest relation in the male line.”

“You are to be Lord Ashmoure?” Bridgerton checked.

“In a year or so, perhaps sooner,” Darcy agreed.  “I have not told Miss Bridgerton.  In fact, it is not widely known.  My father and his uncle were not on the best of terms.  I myself have never had contact with the man, only with his solicitor.”  He paused.  “I should like to be the one to tell Miss Bridgerton myself.”

“Of course,” the Viscount agreed, tipping his head in thought.  “Little Eloise, a Marchioness.”

“Yes,” Darcy agreed.  “I should like to see her in a coronet.”

The footman saw Bridgerton out and Darcy was left with his thoughts.  He had never thought of Elizabeth Bennet as the future Marchioness of Ashmoure.  The two ideas had been entirely divorced from one another.  However, Eloise—He imagined her sitting in the front garden in Pemberley, a book of poetry in her hands, and the thought brought him a small frisson of happiness.

When she next came, she was wearing a sprigged muslin and a yellow pelisse.  Her blue eyes leapt up and met his and she smiled at him a little tremulously as if she had been caught out, and he was certain to kiss her hand in greeting to assure her all was well.

“Shall I play for you, brother?” Georgiana whispered, her voice so soft he could barely hear her.  “Eloise could sing.  We have the Haydn.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Darcy,” Eloise agreed.  “We women should certainly like nothing more than to perform.”  He could sense a slight tease in her words and his heart softened toward her.

“I would not think that is a lady’s only function,” he promised her.  “I know you are much more capable than mere ornamentation.”

Her blue eyes flashed to him in a question before she was called back to the pianoforte.  The music was got out and Darcy settled in for a wondrous rendition of Hadyn’s works.

Eloise’s voice was as beautiful and as startling as before.  It was so crisp, so clear, so full of feeling for one so young.  Her demeanor was soft, her eyes expressive, but again when she finished, she only held her pose for a moment before breaking out in a grin and turning back to Georgiana.  How Darcy should like it if she looked at him in such a way.

“I believe,” Eloise was saying as they sat down for tea, “that Lady Whistledown is a tradesperson.”

“What gave you that notion?” Darcy inquired.

“I have been disillusioned that it could have been a servant.  A servant does not have the time although they may have the opportunity.”  Her eyes glittered blue at him.  “I am quite convinced.”

“You were saying something about your hems,” Georgiana murmured from her place beside Darcy.

“Yes,” Eloise agreed darkly.  “Mama thinks that now Daphne is married it is time to drop my hems.”

Darcy wondered how much influence the Viscount Bridgerton had in this decision. 

“She is even considering bringing me to a ball.  What would I do at a ball?”

“Which ball?” Darcy asked carefully.

Eloise looked at him in confusion.

“I could come and discuss the latest Mrs. Radcliffe novel with you.”

“You would shake a gentleman’s handshake with me,” she murmured, not looking best pleased.  “You would suppose I would dance.  I shall not dance even if I am in attendance.” 

This surprised Darcy.  “Do not all young ladies like to dance?”

“Am I all young ladies?”

No, no, Eloise Bridgerton certainly was not all young ladies.  He admired that about her.  “I should think you would make an exception for me,” he suggested carefully.  “I do not care to dance myself except with women of my most intimate acquaintance.”

“You think I am a woman of your most intimate acquaintance?” she asked in return.

“Are you not?  You are my sister’s dearest friend.”

“You are not your sister.”

“No, I am someone quite different,” he agreed, looking at her quite openly.  “If I promised not to discuss Mrs. Radcliffe with you, would you then dance with me?”

Georgiana held her breath beside him.

Darcy did not break his gaze with Eloise.

She took him in openly.  “I reserve my answer for when you actually ask.”  She took a sip of her tea.

Darcy was satisfied with the answer. 

Now all he needed was a moment alone with Eloise to inform her of his changing circumstances.  He wanted her to consider before he asked for her hand in marriage.

Darcy left the ladies to the ladies after tea, but he entered a side parlor, leaving the door ajar.  He had a note written out to Miss Bridgerton and delivered to her a half hour before her carriage would be called and then had only to wait.

She slipped in and shut the door carefully behind her.

He turned from the window.  “Miss Bridgerton.”

“Anthony will surely call you out now if he hasn’t already,” she warned.

“He knows I wanted to speak to you.”

“Without my maid?  What can you possibly have to say that cannot be said in front of Georgiana except—” her breath hitched.  “—but you would come to Bridgerton House and apply to Anthony for that.”

“Yes, I would,” he agreed, indicating the sofas.

She looked at him a moment with her sparkling blue eyes before she took a seat, waiting for him to do the same.

“Most do not know,” he told her, “but my grandfather won Pemberley from my great-uncle, Lord Ashmoure, in a card game.”

Eloise blinked.  “No wonder you do not care for gambling.  Your entire worth was based on a game of chance.”

“Yes,” he agreed carefully.  “I am the grandson of a second son.”  He felt no shame for it.  His grandfather had been a conservative estate holder and had increased the Darcy fortune exponentially and had passed on a thriving holding to his father and then to him.  His great-uncle was a reprobate and a drunk who lived in Bath, availing himself of the waters and the beauties who came to take the air.  “Lord Ashmoure,” he told her carefully, “did marry but only had a daughter, Lady Isabella.  I am his nearest relative in the male line.”

At this Eloise’s eyes cut to the side, as if considering.  “Are you telling me, Mr. Darcy, that Lord Ashmoure is in ill health?”

“I am informed that he has less than a year to live even with the healing waters of Bath,” Darcy informed her carefully.  “Georgiana knows, of course, but we do not speak on it.  I did not grow up with the expectation of a title.  It will change my life little other than that Pemberley will be reunited with the Marquisate.”

Eloise sucked in a breath.  “I understand.”

“Do you?” he asked her carefully.  “I am telling you that you will be a Marchioness.”

“You have not asked,” she told him boldly as her blue eyes flicked up to his again.  “I have not answered.”

“No,” he agreed.  “However, I will ask.  It is understood.”

“You have given me much to think on—” Her eyes flicked to the door.  She stood and he got to his feet. 

Reaching forward he took her gloved hand and held it in his two larger ones.  Her hands were so delicate and small.  They fit in his larger embrace perfectly.

“Eloise,” he coaxed.

She had been staring at his hands but her eyes fixed on his gaze once again. 

“I am still the same man as I was ten minutes ago.”

Her face relaxed into a small smile.  “I am well aware, Mr. Darcy.  I was just thinking that I could never call you ‘Ashmoure.’  You are firmly ‘Darcy’ in my mind.”

“I would have it no other way,” he promised as he leaned down to kiss her hand before seeing her out to her carriage.

VIII.

Eloise was uncertain if three weeks was too soon to become engaged. 

Daphne had gone to Hastings and Francesca was in Bath.  She could not speak to Georgiana about it and Penelope had no suitors.  Anthony was watching her carefully every time she came back from Darcy House, and she was aware she had spoken to Darcy and they had a gentleman’s understanding—or handshake.

Mama was preparing her for Daphne’s ball and Eloise didn’t like being plucked and prodded. 

“Anthony said Mr. Darcy was most attentive to you,” Mama began carefully as Eloise prepared for the Hastings ball.

“I do not like all these pins, Mama.”

“Perhaps, dear, but you need to hold still.”

Eloise was fidgeting.  She could not help it. 

“Is he much there when you and Georgiana sing together?”  Mama was careful not to look at her.

“Yes, Mama, he is much present.  He believes me to be quite the proper young woman.”

“You are very accomplished,” Mama agreed.  “Not even Francesca is so accomplished.”  She paused.  “Do you like Mr. Darcy?”

The question was careful.

“You care that he is not a prince or a duke,” Eloise realized as her hair was now being put atop her head.

“It is not that.”

“Then what is it?” Eloise demanded.

“It is only that you are not giddy with joy.”

Eloise paused.  It was true she did not sigh to herself as Daphne much did to herself when she thought no one was looking, but she and Darcy were not like that.  “He wants to dance with me.”

“Well, this is a ball, my dear.”

“You know how much I do not care to dance with Gregory or Colin.”

“They are your brothers, my darling.”

Mama was not seeing the point.

“I should not dance with the Duke of Hastings should he ask me,” Eloise insisted as pearls were placed in her hair, “even though he is married to our Daphne.”

“That would be most—oh,” Mama’s blue eyes met hers in the mirror.  “I quite take your point, my dear.”  Mama was flushing.  “He is quite the imposing gentleman.”

“You do not think we look well together?” Eloise asked, fidgeting slightly with her sleeve.

“I did not say that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“It is only that he commands your attention whenever he enters a room.  It was quite obvious that even Daphne noticed him when she should have been speaking to the Duke of Hastings that one time he came to Bridgerton House.”

Eloise had not been aware the Duke had even been in attendance that day, such that she was absorbed in waiting for Georgiana and Mr. Darcy.  “She should be contented.”

“I believe she is much contented,” her mama demurred, picking up Eloise’s gloves for her.  “I wish for you to be equally contented.—I was so wrapped up in Daphne and her prospects I did not realize you had prospects of your own.”

“I am not yet out,” Eloise excused.

“No, but that does not mean that you do not meet eligible men such as your Mr. Darcy.”

Your Mr. Darcy.  Yes, he was her Mr. Darcy, was he not?  The thought brought a flush to Eloise’s cheek, which in turn brought a smile to Mama’s lips.

The ride to Hastings House was short and Eloise’s first order of business was to find Queen Charlotte, but she was left in a corner afterwards.  She had not long to wait before Mr. Darcy entered the outside ballroom. 

He certainly did command the attention of the room.  The heads of every eligible young lady in the ballroom turned toward him, but he seemed unaffected.  He greeted Daphne as hostess, but his green eyes searched the guests until they alighted on her. 

“Miss Bridgerton,” Darcy greeted when he approached her.  “You look very elegant in current fashions.”

“Now that I am out?” she queried, aware that she was very much uncomfortable in a lowered bodice.  “I should very much not like to be on display.”

“I daresay you can wear a blusher tomorrow morning,” he promised her, leaning in slightly as he turned to stand beside her.  Darcy was a great deal taller than Eloise.  She barely came up to his shoulder, but she never felt like he dwarfed her.  Instead, she felt protected from the world.

The music started up and Eloise saw the Duke take Daphne’s hand to start the dance.  The onlookers watched on, but before Darcy could ask for her hand, the heavens opened up and began to drench the guests in a downpour.

“Good gracious!” Darcy exclaimed, taking off his coat and placing it over Eloise’s head.  “Allow me to see you inside, Miss Bridgerton.”

Eloise peaked up at him from beneath the coat and smiled.  A summer rain was so refreshing but she did not like the feel of wet silk against her body.  She allowed him to hurry her inside, noticing that Daphne did not join her guests inside, but instead stood outside in the rain.

“What is my sister thinking?” she wondered as she rushed to a window to look out at Daphne.  “She’ll catch her death!”

Darcy came up behind her and rested a hand gently down upon her own. 

The view was marred with rain but they could just make out the figures of Daphne and the Duke.

“The Duke should really escort her in,” Darcy murmured.  “Hastings is being reckless.”

“Ahem.”  They turned to take in Lady Danbury.  “Spying, are we?”

“Lady Danbury,” Darcy greeted, turning fully toward her and bowing.  “Miss Bridgerton is merely worried for the Duchess’s health.”

“I’m certain the Duke will see to it well enough.—Surely the Viscount is worried that this Miss Bridgerton should arrive at her carriage promptly and not dawdle.”  A superior look came into her eye.  “It seems as if you two are very much acquainted.”

Eloise smiled knowingly at Lady Danbury.  “How could we be, Lady Danbury?  Lady Whistledown has reported no such thing.”

Lady Danbury smiled back at them.  “No, she certainly has not.  I shall look after Mr. Darcy for you, Miss Bridgerton.  I saw the Dowager Viscountess toward the forward doors.”

Eloise understood a command when she heard one.  Looking up at Darcy, who still had not put back on his tailcoat, she gave him a small smile, and curtsied to both of them before leaving.  She hurried toward the back of the crowd and found Anthony and Mama waiting for her with the carriage.

“What a pity you did not get to dance with Mr. Darcy,” Mama exclaimed once they were home.  “There is nothing for it.  You shall have to dance when you and Benedict go to Pemberley.”

“Yes,” Anthony agreed cheekily.  “It is a house party.  Surely there will be opportunities for you to dance.”

“Georgiana could play,” Eloise agreed as she looked out the window.  The rain was pouring heavily.

Darcy had been unable to propose at the ball.  It had been the last event of the season.  The Darcy’s with Eloise and Benedict as their guests were leaving the day after the morrow for Pemberley.  Eloise only wondered when Darcy would propose.  Would it be before she left London or would he wait for Derbyshire?  She glanced at Anthony.  She could ask, but that would be telling.

IX.

Darcy was set to go out the next morning when there was a banging on the front door.

“Who is it?” he asked the butler when he came into the breakfast room with a calling card.  He looked at it and was very much surprised.  It was Mr. Edward Gardiner. 

Sighing, he asked for the man to be shown into his study.

Mr. Gardiner was a middling man with a balding head.  He had the same sky blue eyes as his sister, Mrs. Bennet, and the same fair coloring.  After having made his acquaintance in Derbyshire, Darcy had never expected to see the man ever again.

“Mr. Gardiner,” he greeted.  “This is unexpected.”

“I do apologize,” the man demurred, sweating slightly.  “I received a letter from my niece Elizabeth and she suggested you might aid us.”

“Aid you?” he asked, indicating the man should take a seat.  He poured a glass of brandy and handed it to the man despite the earliness of the hour.  “How can I possibly be of assistance to you, Mr. Gardiner?”

“It’s Lydia,” he admitted carefully.

Darcy remembered the girl.  She was the youngest Bennet daughter.  She had no sense of propriety.

“She’s eloped.”

This certainly surprised Darcy.

“How am I to be of assistance?”  He walked around his desk and took a seat.  Darcy wanted to be seeing to his own nuptial happiness, not to the Bennets’.

“I am not making myself clear,” Gardiner apologized.  “She eloped with Wickham.”

This certainly got Darcy’s attention. 

“I understand from Elizabeth that you have known Wickham since childhood. It is just we do not believe they ever made it to Gretna Green.”

“What supposes you to believe that?” Darcy asked, wishing he did not have to ask the question.

“They were traced only as far as London.”

Darcy controlled himself.  This was not his problem.

“I fear I cannot help you, Mr. Gardiner.  I fear I have washed my hands of Wickham since my father’s death.  I gave him the worth of living he was bequeathed in my father’s will, and that was the end.  To my knowledge he has no fixed address.  I know not of his friends.  I would not know where he would go.  If you suppose him to be in London, then I can only suppose him to be in London, but beyond that I could not tell you.”

Gardiner looked a little desperate.  “Please, Mr. Darcy—”

“I cannot help you,” he stated again firmly.  “I am very sorry but such is as it is.”  He waited a few moments, but when Gardiner said nothing else, he stood. 

Gardiner sat there stupidly.

“My man will show you out.”

The whole business had put a very sour taste in his mouth.  Still, he wished to see Eloise and secure her as his wife.  If anything, this desire was further cemented by the Bennets’ folly.  They should have watched their youngest daughter more closely.  They were now ruined, especially if this elopement failed to take place.

Elizabeth was ruined.

Georgiana had gone to the garden and picked roses, which she wrapped in paper.

“Eloise favors roses,” she told him when he took his hat and walking stick from the footman.  “She has often admired ours when they’re in season.”  Her green eyes flicked up and held his.  “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he told her sincerely, reaching out and touching her cheek.  “You spoke only from the heart.”

“You could have decided not to listen.”  Her voice, so soft, had the smallest bit of strength to it, which made Darcy smile.

“Then I would have been a fool.”

When he arrived at Bridgerton House, Eloise was still in lowered hems, but wearing a modest blusher.  Her hair had been placed atop her head like a lady of society.  He missed seeing her with her hair flowing down her back, but he knew it was only a matter of time when he would see Eloise in unguarded moments.

“Miss Bridgerton.”

They were alone together in the drawing room.

She looked up at him with her startling blue eyes and set aside her book.  “It is now, then?”

“Would you prefer that I wait?” he asked her solemnly.  Darcy would not wish to make her uncomfortable.

“It is not that,” she promised.  “I was just wondering if we were to marry in London or in Hampshire.”

“Where should you like to marry?”

“I had not thought,” Eloise admitted.  “Do you have a preference?”

“We could marry in three weeks at Pemberley—” he suggested carefully, coming around and taking a seat beside her.  The roses had been set aside when he had entered.  “Your family could be our guests.  You would already be at the house.”

She startled but then seemed to consider.  “I should have to ask Mama.  She would wish to be in charge of my trousseau.”

“I’m certain Madame Delacroix has your measurements.”

“Indeed,” she agreed wryly.  “I wouldn’t even need to be present.  Mama could have it all decided for me.  Perhaps that would be best.”  Her eyes flicked up to his, blue to green.

“Then all that remains to be said,” he coaxed, reaching forward and taking her hand, “is whether or not you consent to be my wife.”

Her eyes looked into his and held.  She opened her mouth to speak, but he would not be silent.

“I did not think that I would love you,” he admitted, “but it is a quiet but ardent love.  You are feminine intelligence itself and I would like nothing more than for you to consent to be my wife.  I am aware that by expressing such feelings I am not only speaking for myself but for my sister, and I trust the felicity of the entire family will be well held in your hands.  I hope that my addresses are not unexpected by the Viscount and the Dowager Viscountess and that my expected elevation to title will be found acceptable as to our relative positions in society—”

Eloise reached a finger up and placed it over his lips.  “Hush, Darcy,” she chided.  “I do not need grand speeches.  It is enough that you love me.”

He reached up and pulled her hand away.  “Then, I take it that my addresses are received favorably, Miss Bridgerton?”

“Very favorably,” she agreed.  “In fact, I fully consent to be your wife.”  She broke out into a grin and he smiled at her. 

Leaning forward, he hesitated, but she reached for him and their lips met in a soft but ardent kiss.  He pulled her toward her and she cried out in shock.  He caught her and plied her lips apart only to kiss her fully, his tongue dipping out into her mouth.  Darcy heard her breath catch and he gentled the kiss, cupping the back of her head with his large hands.  As the kiss ended, he pulled away, leaving one last kiss on her lips.  His eyes flitted open to see her staring back at him with wide blue eyes. 

“My Eloise,” he sighed.  How well the name suited her. 

“Darcy?” she asked, slightly confused.

“Forgive me for taking liberties, my love,” he apologized, running his hand down the back of her neck.  “I will always be gentle with you.”

She gave him a small smile and he smiled back at her.

The End.