Behind the scenes, pandemonium ruled as the manor’s servants pandered to guests’ requests, some mannered and others ill mannered. Young pages were paged to assist footmen, who were run off their feet with many servile feats. The butler whined about the wine cellar’s rapid depletion as attendees were wined and dined; and he was glad the ball would soon wind up. After supper was served, the chef, his assistants, and their tempers finally stopped steaming, stewing, and simmering. Unfortunate scullery maids would labour until daylight before they were all washed up.

Above and beyond the overworked servants, a few other occupants of Matlock Manor had not exactly enjoyed the night’s proceedings. Lady Anne Darcy had collapsed outside the library; and Miss de Bourgh had summoned Lady Rebecca’s efficient French abigail, a pretty maid by the name of Mademoiselle Frances Atwarre, who brought the English patient around with smelling salts. Miss Anna Darcy had fetched her uncle; and after his sister recovered from her swoon and related the sordid story of Richard and Miss Jane Bennet, the Earl dispatched an express message to a home several blocks away. Lady Anne left her brother to deal with his youngest offspring while she headed back to the library and an ordeal involving her eldest.

A sheepish Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was escorted to his mutton-chopped father’s study, where he was raked over the coals and lambasted for unseemly behaviour and its ramifications. As a soldier, the officer was used to standing in formation to receive information; so with the best intention, not to mention apprehension, without pretension he stood at attention to defend his own contention.

Jane had been taken aside by Miss de Bourgh, and Anna soon joined them and tried to comfort her friend while the raised voices of her uncle and his son filtered down the hall from the vicinity of the Earl’s study. Miss Bennet was absolutely mortified, guilt-ridden over her shameless conduct, and torn between wanting to flee and the need to take a stance with Richard while he faced the music, even if she did not particularly care for the tune. “Oh, Anna, I am so sorry for causing such turmoil; and I believe it would be preferable for me to leave now. I should fetch my sister from the library; and regardless, we really must warn Mr. Darcy and Lizzy before … ”

Anne de Bourgh interrupted, “No, Miss Bennet. Please do not go in there. I have every reason to suspect you would barge into the middle of a marriage proposal. At least I think that is what Fitzwilliam and your sister are doing behind closed, locked doors … although Aunt Anne has just returned and obviously has visions of another sort of engagement.” Three heads turned to watch a determined Lady Anne Darcy as she fumbled with a large ring of keys confiscated from her disgraced nephew. She finally found the one to open the locked library, and it soundlessly turned in the keyhole. 

There had been uproar at another London townhouse when a messenger arrived with a dispatch requesting the immediate presence of Mr. Thomas Bennet at Matlock Manor.

“Thomas, you are not leaving without me! If something has happened to one of our precious girls, they would want their mother in attendance. Oh, my dear, what do you suppose is the matter? We should never have permitted Jane and Lizzy to attend that ball without a chaperone.”

“Come along then, lovey, but do not agonize yet over the reason. Our daughters are in good hands with our Darcy friends. Whatever has transpired, I am confident it must not be of a serious nature.” His face underwent a change as he muttered, “However, if even one hair on their beloved heads has been harmed, I may become quite barbarous.”

As they hurriedly entered their carriage, Mrs. Bennet had dramatic visions of the last legion of handsome barbarians plundering and pillaging at Matlock Manor.

The anxious Mrs. Bennet might have been comforted had she known that in Matlock Manor’s library at least one handsome barbarian was not engaged in any plundering or pillaging; and although Mr. Bennet felt confident his beloved daughters were in good hands with their Darcy friends, he might not have been comforted had he known where one of those hands had touched Lizzy during a waltz run-through. In fact, ‘run through’ might very well have been the action taken against the young man. Said fellow was actually making a valiant attempt to keep himself under good regulation by maintaining a safe distance from the temptation of his fetching fiancée while he enjoyed the pleasure of her exclusive company. Darcy searched the shelves for a book of sonnets by Shakespeare, in love with the idea of reading one or two to his future wife. As he ran his hand along the spines, the title Lost Empires, by Zan Tium, diverted him until Elizabeth reclaimed his attention.

“Mr. Darcy, I wonder why Jane has been delayed for such a stretch of time. What now seems ages ago, I opened the door to this room seeking a moment of privacy; and my sister was supposed to meet me here directly. With her help, I need to repair … something … before I am able to return to the ballroom.”

“Elizabeth, may I be of assistance?” He walked over and stood toe-to-toe in front of her.

How can a man look so divine, smell so heavenly, but have such a devilish twinkle in his eyes? “Good heavens, absolutely not, sir! I mean, no thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

“Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, we are betrothed now. Could you not call me Fitzwilliam rather than ‘Mr. Darcy’ or ‘sir’ whenever we are alone?” She nodded; and he continued, “We have been fortunate to have this time in private. However, we really should return to the ballroom now. I would certainly not want to miss the opportunity to finally waltz with you after agonizing all evening about doing so. What may I do to help you?”

“Perhaps you could locate my sister and send her to me, sir, … Fitzwilliam.”

“Sir Fitzwilliam? I do not believe you are entitled to bestow that title, my love.”

“Teasing man!”

“Never fear, milady. Sir Fitzwilliam, the advocate for missing sisters, shall set forth immediately on a quest for his true love’s lost sibling.” Darcy kissed Lizzy’s forehead again, purposely strode across the room, and yanked at the doorknob. “What the … ?”

“Oh, I completely forgot. I do believe your cousin locked us in on his way out.”

“We are locked in? That insolent, insufferable instigator and his insupportable interference!”

“Yes, how insupportable. Instead of leaving, you loitered and got locked in the library with Lizzy. Lousy luck, hmm?”

Darcy quickly returned, slid his hands around the column of her graceful neck, gently stroked his thumbs against her smooth skin, and gazed into her fine eyes. “Elizabeth, time alone with you has been priceless and precious; and I suspect I shall have to thank Fitz for it. Nevertheless, until your father has sanctioned this betrothal, we must be circumspect. You are the best thing that has happened in my life so far; and were I to circumvent propriety and give in to my lustful, licentious longings, lady, your lovely, luscious lips would be long-lastingly locked with mine in a lascivious, lingering, loving kiss.”