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“What took you so long? I do not have all night.”

“Yes, mum—I mean, no, mum,” Martha sputtered.

“Help me with this gown and then fasten my necklace. I do not want my uncle to be kept waiting.”

Martha did her best, albeit, not as efficiently as Suzette, and Cecile was finally ready. She was waiting in the parlour when her uncle came to escort her to the dinner party. Cecile thanked him for accompanying her, and he assured her he was delighted to do so.

As usual when she was in her uncle’s company, all she could focus on was the fact that, with her aunt dead, she would be one of his heirs. He had no children and only eight nieces who would inherit his wealth. However, the man was in good health, and at eight and fifty, he could live another ten years. Cecile sighed as he offered her his arm, and they left the house.

As they settled into his carriage, she was thankful that Lord Tierney could not hear well and, thus, was not very talkative. The silence that ensued gave her ample time to ponder just how she might force Mr. Darcy’s hand on the matter of marriage as she needed immediate relief, and her uncle could not provide that.

~~~*~~~

In another carriage negotiating the route to Matlock House, William fidgeted with his cravat.

I should not have let Mr. Noble stay on as my valet. He should have retired long ago. He always ties my cravat too tightly!

Sighing, he realised that it was not the cravat or Mr. Noble who raised his ire, but the situation with Mrs. Preston. His chided himself for getting into this quagmire. I should never have encouraged the woman. Even to please Georgiana.

How does one explain? I am sorry to have raised your expectations, Mrs. Preston? It was foolish of me to think I could settle for someone I do not love.”

Having dinner tonight with the Fitzwilliams was the price he must pay for Richard’s help in keeping his aunt and Cecile Preston away the day before, but as William drew closer to his uncle’s home, his apprehension increased manifestly. He had found no time to plan a workable strategy concerning Mrs. Preston.

Even though he had explained to Elizabeth that she was in London, she was still confused when she awoke. She had reacted to the strange house, first by getting upset with Mrs. Drury; and second, by trying to leave—from her room and then the house. As at Netherfield, William was the only one able to calm her, so he spent most of the day doing just that, not that he minded. Quite the opposite, just being able to hold her close to him was a balm to his tortured soul. He found himself longing for the day when holding her would be by mutual desire and not because she was sick.

His thoughts drifted back to Mrs. Preston. There was no doubt she was a fine match for someone seeking a marriage of convenience. She was intelligent, able to converse with ease in social settings, she was wealthy and her connections were above average. Nevertheless, she was not the desire of his heart—Elizabeth was.

Acknowledging that brought him a peace he had not known since he left Kent. Truly smiling from the heart now, he grasped the truth of it—even if Elizabeth never fully recovered, he would thank God for the chance to care for her as long as he lived.

Satisfied that he finally knew his own heart, William resolved to do whatever was necessary to discourage the widow. After all, he was taking Elizabeth home to Pemberley, and Mrs. Preston would likely never be there again. It was just as well that he made that clear tonight.

The abrupt motion of the carriage’s stopping brought him back to the present, and with a new determination, he descended from the coach. Stopping to take a deep breath, he straightened his waistcoat and turned to see Richard as he came down the steps to greet him.

~~~*~~~

Cecile could not believe it. Not only had Mr. Darcy been cool to her when she addressed him after going through the receiving line, but he had not asked her to dance even once. The Matlocks had had the large music room cleared of furniture, so everyone that wanted to dance would have room to do so. She had situated herself next to him several times during the evening, giving him the opportunity to talk, but Mr. Darcy had acted as though they were barely acquainted.

She was livid, though she could not let anyone know. Determined to get to the bottom of this puzzle, Cecile decided to try another tactic. Near time for dinner, she walked over to William who was engaged in conversation with Richard, and smiling as pleasantly as possible, declared, “Mr. Darcy, I find myself free for our dance now, sir.”

William raised his eyebrows, but unwilling to embarrass her, bowed slightly and offered his arm. As Cecile turned, William shared a look with his cousin that signified something dreadful was about to happen. Richard blew out a breath as he watched William escort the lady to the dance floor. Suddenly feeling the presence of someone beside him, he turned to see his mother.

“What in the world is wrong with my nephew? Last he was in Town, he could not smile at Mrs. Preston enough, and now he acts as though he hardly knows her.”

“Perhaps now he regrets his attention to her,” Richard replied, never taking his eyes off William. Lady Matlock raised one eyebrow and turned to study her son.

“Because…”

“Perhaps, because he has found his true love.”

With that Richard left his mother watching Fitzwilliam and the widow Preston going through the steps of a dance as though they were strangers. Sighing, she rushed to find the butler to direct him to rearrange some of the place cards before dinner.

“Mr. Darcy, would you mind telling me why you have been avoiding me?” Cecile said calmly, a pleasant smile that did not adequately represent her feelings, plastered on her face.

“I do not follow you, madam.”

Madam? “That is so formal for friends, is it not? Come now, sir. We both know of what I am speaking. You said you would call on me as soon as you came back to Town. Tonight I overheard Colonel Fitzwilliam say you have been here two days already. And, you have barely spoken two words to me this evening.”

William began to feel some guilt, but he knew it would be best to come right out and tell her the truth. “I am sorry, Mrs. Preston. I wanted to speak to you before now, but I have not had the opportunity.”