He gazed over his daughters, Jane and Mr. Bingley crossing the room as well, and addressed Lizzy, “Your husband bribed me with unfettered access to his library and port, so how could I refuse.” He winked at Darcy. “Your mother needed only to hear the word ‘shopping’ and she was compliant. Quite the shindig, Lizzy. I am duly impressed.”

“Perhaps, Papa, I can induce you to dance with me? As you can see, my usual dancing partner is crippled and you appear dressed for the occasion,” Lizzy teased with a tug on his jacket.

Mr. Bennet, in fact, was dandified in a new suit tailored in the latest fashion, although he had refused long trousers clinging stubbornly to the familiarity of knee breeches. Lizzy had never in her life seen him dressed so finely. “I shall consider the matter, Lizzy. If I dance with you, I will likely be required to extend the courtesy to Jane, Kitty, your mother, and Mary, the last of which will probably make this young man irritated.”

His amused eyes lit on Mr. Daniels, who was trailing Mary about as if physically tied to her. Of course, it was understandable to some degree, as Mary was stunning. Kitty and Georgiana had sufficiently nagged until Mary exhaustedly relented and agreed to wear the purple gown with woven wisteria. Mr. Daniels's eyes had literally bulged when he saw her, and the two were since inseparable. If Mary was in any way disturbed by his attention, it did not show. In fact, she was radiant, blushing prettily at her father's reference.

Introductions were extended all around, the flamboyant Dr. George Darcy joining the fray. Mr. Daniels boldly enforced his acquaintance on both Bennet parents, snatching at the fortuitous circumstance. The hubbub around the doorway was convivial and rowdy; therefore, it was several minutes before anyone noticed the newest arrivals.

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh! What a delightful surprise.” Dr. Darcy's booming voice ruptured the tumult, silence descending suddenly as nearly every eye jerked to George and then the door. Lady Catherine stood placidly under the glare, Anne meekly at her side with head slightly drooping. Darcy immediately placed a hand onto the small of Lizzy's back, jointly stepped forward without hesitation to sequester the new arrivals near the elaborate lintel. He bowed regally before his aunt and cousin, Elizabeth at his side with an elegant curtsey.

“Lady Catherine, Miss de Bourgh. Welcome to Darcy House. Mrs. Darcy and I are pleased you have come.” Darcy paused, waiting patiently for her acknowledgement.

“Fitzwilliam, thank you for the invitation. Darcy House is lovely. Reminiscent of the days when your dear mother was Mistress.” She turned toward Lizzy, inclining her head. “I esteem the manor responds positively to having a woman in residence. Mrs. Darcy, I am willing to accept that my prior opinions were hastily reached, and perhaps I should apportion the time to amend this oversight now.”

“‘Perhaps,’ Aunt Catherine?” Darcy said with a cold inflection and scowl, his free hand possessively about Elizabeth's waist.

“Fitzwilliam, you stated as much yourself, accusing me of not allotting the former Miss Bennet the opportunity to prove herself to me. In this you are correct and I confess to this being a fault on my part. Mrs. Darcy she may now be, and I do recognize this as an unalterable fact, yet should I not be given the chance to form my own opinion of your wife? Even if it is arrived at late and after extreme errors in my conduct?”

Darcy was glowering, not at all certain he wished to be reasonable when it came to any action remotely demeaning or judgmental on his wife. Lizzy sensed his rising irritation and spoke first. “Lady Catherine, Mr. Darcy and I wish to end this dispute and heal the rift. We are willing to bend to a degree. This invitation to our home was in an effort to accomplish this, and we are pleased you are here. If you feel you need to observe me to ease your heart, then do so with my blessing. However, I pray you do fully understand that your opinion ultimately matters naught to either of us.”

“Furthermore, Aunt, your assaults on Elizabeth demand an apology which should be rendered, regardless of what your estimation of her may be. In addition, although I cannot fathom an opinion of my wife less than enthusiastically favorable, I will not tolerate a negative word uttered in this house. In that incomprehensible event, you will be escorted out and never welcomed again. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly, Fitzwilliam. Mrs. Darcy, I do apologize for my behavior both recently and in the past. I will not attempt to offer excuses and only pray you will forgive me.”

Lizzy nodded. “Very well, Lady Catherine. Let us start fresh. Welcome to Darcy House.” She glanced past her to Anne and curtseyed politely. “Miss de Bourgh, it is wonderful to see you again. William speaks so fondly of you, and I am overjoyed to have the opportunity to enhance our relationship.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy.” Anne smiled shyly, glancing timidly at the array of bodies in the room. At the initial greetings, most in the ballroom had moved away, busily diverting their attention from the drama unfolding at the door. Lord Matlock and Colonel Fitzwilliam stood nearby, as did Dr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet. Lord Matlock smoothly apprehended his sister, with Colonel Fitzwilliam offering an arm to Anne, both men steering them away and performing the task of introductions.

“Interesting family intrigue,” George stated with a chuckle. “One of the disadvantages of living a continent away is all the fun interpersonal dynamics one misses. Lady Catherine has always been fodder for a laugh or two.” He breathed deeply and patted his chest with both hands, smiling broadly. “All I need now is food and dancing with a beautiful woman or two and life will be complete! Come, Mr. Bennet, let us see what we can scare up.” Laughing, the gentlemen moved away, leaving Lizzy and Darcy in relative solitude.

Darcy was gazing intently into his wife's face, tenderly cupping her cheek while running his thumb over her smiling lips. “You were brilliant, my love. Are you well?”

Lizzy's smile widened. “I am perfect.” She kissed his palm, encircling his neck with both hands and rising on tiptoes to brush his lips. “I have you. How could I be anything else? Now come, we have other guests to attend to. I am rather enjoying being Mistress!”

Darcy laughed, leaning for a kiss to her temple. “You should enjoy it since you are quite adept, as I knew you would be. I love you, you know?”

“I love you too, William.”

Arm in arm, they rejoined their guests. Gerald and Harriet Vernor were talking with Stephen and Amelia Lathrop. Amelia was fast approaching the final two months of her pregnancy and planned to return to Leicestershire on the morrow for the remainder of her confinement. Lizzy was already saddened, especially knowing that with her own condition advancing, it would likely be months before they saw each other.

“Ah, Darcy! Excellent timing,” Gerald Vernor said. “The ladies insist on discussing birth and infancy related topics. Lathrop and I are turning green over here, so rescue us before they move on to the riveting issue of swaddling cloths.”

“Yes, by all means,” Lizzy replied with an impish smile and wave of her hand, “move away, feeble men, and discuss something delicate such as hunting or boxing.” Darcy and Lathrop blushed but Vernor winked, guiding the two toward another knot of men seemingly centered on an effervescent George Darcy.

The orchestra struck up a lively dance tune, the floor taken by several couples. Mary and Mr. Daniels, not surprisingly, were accompanied by the Hugheses, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Bertha, several others, and, to Lizzy's amazed curiosity, Anne de Bourgh and Dr. Raul Penaflor. Lady Catherine sat beside Lord and Lady Matlock, scowlingly observing her daughter.

The mystery of Anne de Bourgh had, in all honesty, not overly interested Lizzy. Her stay in Kent had offered her few opportunities to talk to Anne, only enough to arrive at the conclusion that the sickly young woman was polite but rather timid. Darcy spoke fondly of his cousin, mostly regarding their childhood antics. Lizzy gathered that Anne had been healthy as a youth, or at least Darcy intimated so. Lizzy had no idea what the illness was that rendered Anne pale and listless. Suddenly, Lizzy felt shame for not having taken the initiative to inquire as to the history involving Darcy's cousin, but any mention of the name “de Bourgh” educed the infamous Darcy glower.

She observed her now with inquisitiveness. Anne wore a dark green gown of an older style that completely covered every inch of her skin, only her bloodless, pinched face visible. She was pretty, with a slim figure, lovely brown eyes, and curly black hair. Her pallor was a sharp contrast to the dusky-hued Dr. Penaflor. Little in the way of words was exchanged as they danced. Surprisingly, the frail Anne managed the dance easily and with a natural grace. A faint flush rose on her cheeks, although whether from the exertion or touch of her partner Lizzy could not ascertain. When the dance ended, Dr. Penaflor escorted Anne to her mother's side, bowing with cultured finesse and brushing her fingers with his lips. Lady Catherine glared, though the physician remained unperturbed as evidenced by the dazzling smile sent her way before he retreated.

Lizzy hid a laugh as she meandered through the room, engaging her guests in easy conversation, eventually reaching Darcy's side. He stood with his Uncle George, Richard, and Lizzy's parents. Dr. Penaflor was now dancing with Kitty.

Lizzy linked arms with her spouse but addressed the doctor. “Your friend is apparently intent on squiring each young maiden in the room, Dr. Darcy.”

George laughed. “Yes, that would be Raja. Raised with courtly manners, he would deem it his duty. Although I judge his interest in Miss de Bourgh is primarily professional.”

“What do you mean, Uncle?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “One of the side effects of being a diagnostician. We never can fully push our instincts aside. We were both curiously discussing what treatment she is on for her anemia. Do you know, William?”

Darcy, however, was staring at him in total bafflement. “I fear, Uncle, I do not understand. The physician my aunt employs has determined it to be a heart condition.”

Dr. Darcy raised a brow, apparently an inherited Darcy gesture when perplexed. “A heart condition? That seems unlikely. Of course, I would need to examine her fully to be certain, but she is pale, not cyanotic or breathless, nor is there obvious evidence of edema.” He was frowning as he muttered, studying Anne as she sat across the room, fingers twitching over his lips.

Lizzy found the whole episode intriguing, not only Dr. Darcy's unconscious gesticulations so akin to her husband's, but also the references to Anne's affliction. Darcy was watching his uncle with interest and a glimmer of hope.

“I have long encouraged Aunt Catherine to seek an alternate opinion. Do you think you could help her, Uncle George?”

Dr. Darcy shrugged. “I know of several tonics as well as natural remedies for anemia, if that is her ailment. Heart diseases are difficult. Far too many variables. I have seen some success with the distillation of digitalis. Hmmm… The question is your Aunt Catherine. She never cared for me. I am too outrageous and improper,” he declared in Lizzy's direction with a grin. “You are not the first to earn her disfavor, my dear.”

“How comforting,” Lizzy murmured sarcastically.

“Dr. Darcy, pardon me, but what did you mean by Dr. Penaflor raised with courtly manners?” Mrs. Bennet asked, a keen glint in her eyes.

“Raul Penaflor, Mrs. Bennet, is the third son of a Spanish Duke, and his mother is one of many royal sisters to King Ferdinand. It is all rather a jumble of intermarriage intrigue that exhausts me, frankly.”

Mrs. Bennet's eyes had opened widely, and she was peering at Kitty and Dr. Penaflor as they completed their dance with unveiled calculation. Lizzy coughed a laugh, turning slightly to hide her face into Darcy's sleeve as Mrs. Bennet continued. “How very interesting! Has he a grand inheritance then? Or perhaps a family income?”

Dr. Darcy smiled innocently at Mrs. Bennet. “They have not disowned him, Mrs. Bennet, if that information profits you. Raja, however, is apathetic regarding his lineage and rank. I tease and call him ‘raja,’ which is prince in Hindi, yet he is indifferent. Healing is all that truly matters to him.”

Mrs. Bennet was obviously saddened at the news and chose to ignore Dr. Penaflor thereafter. The evening progressed with all in attendance enjoying themselves immensely. Lizzy danced twice, once with Colonel Fitzwilliam and then with George Darcy. Primarily, she stood happily by her husband, the two randomly conversing with all guests equally. Occasionally, she sensed Aunt Catherine's eyes boring into her, but essentially, she ignored the woman, far too delighted in the evening's gaiety to be irritated. Darcy was in a felicitous mood, smiling incessantly and laughing often. Even his trifling annoyance at his bound arm was insufficient to dampen his spirits.